Went to an opening organized by Luc Sante called the The Museum of Crime and the Museum of God tonight.   I tried reading the text written on each wall of the gallery - sometimes getting half way though it and then lost interest in the rest.

According to the notes that go with the opening:

“…A “museum” is nowadays an institution, an anchor of civic pride that comprises the local cultural treasury, often begun as a collection of trophies picked up in military or economic wars. In its older sense, though, a museum is a ragtag assemblage of bones and shells, reliquaries and chromolithographs, medical oddities and thinly veiled pornography. That sort of museum could once be found in storefronts, in the back rooms of bars, in tents on the fringes of popular resorts, and in wagons traveling an endless circuit of small towns. It might pretend to some edifying purpose, although that was transparently a hustle; on the other hand it could actually contain meaning, although very often one unknown to its proprietor and imparted to its visitors through some invisible means that bypassed thought. It is in that sense that this museum should be understood.

It is a collection of curiosities of sometimes dubious pedigree, assembled entirely from my walls, my filing cabinets, and my attic. The bipartite name, in part an homage to the nineteenth century language of broadsides and sermons, establishes the twin poles of a visual predilection. This predilection—not necessarily identical with a taste or a sensibility—is mine, although I don’t entirely understand it.”

But I thought it was an interesting show anyway - even if I did not have the patience to really explore the objects and read most of the writings.

It was raining fairly hard this afternoon - the sky got black, literally, but it had mostly cleared up this evening - even so, it was still raining quite a bit around 7PM, when I arrived at ApexArt.

At 7:30, I decided to have dinner next door, at a fairly upscale Italian place, and took my time, sketching, thinking and reading - and then made my way home.

Richard Diebenkorn painted Large Still Life in 1966 and I like this painting much more than the others in MOMA’s collection because it reminded me of Henri Matisse, and I think that’s a good thing, in this case.

For me, Large Still Life is totally satisfying as a painting, yet it has many abstract elements of color handling and texture that are much different than Matisse, even though the Large Still Life hearkens back to the French Painter. I kinda wonder what the paper near the foreground is …what does it have written on it? I guess we’ll never know.

Giorgio de Chirico’s The Song of Love is probably much more romantic in it’s name than what the painting represents.

The Song of Love is more of a mathematical formula, an enigma, or a cryptic dream - full of symbolism - what works for me best is the cloud peaking out from behind the plaster cast of a head. The hanging glove reminds me of “slap in the face” ….like….”take that“! The Ball….well, I’m not sure what it means in this painting and the image of the building tops - exquisite - it evokes feelings in me - like a reminder of something past.

Pierre Bonnard’s, The Bathroom, was painted in 1932 and is one of my favorite Bonnard paintings. When I got close up to the painting I saw a lot of detail in bursh work that is lost in the photo - not to worry - you can always go over to the MOMA and see the painting - it’s wonderful.

Well, I think that’s enough posting about MOMA’s collection tonight - I have more to post about this trip over the weekend.