Holla at the Höller exhibit

Half way through my two hour wait to "experience" the Giant Psycho Tank at the New Museum (Carsten Höller) I reaffirmed the stubbornness (not patience) that kept me in line as I realized this exhibit was 50% of the reason I flew to the city in January (the middle of winter, a time I avoid). The two hours I spent in line without a smartphone or a pen and paper were mind-numbing (a word of advice if you go: don't leave your phone in coat check). I have not voluntarily waited in line that long - ever. The only exceptions are hospital or doctors' office waits, which are never voluntary if you are like me.

I am like me, and I AM whining about the wait. It's kind of like a ladies room wait - what takes so long!? Holler's solo exhibition was allegedly about the EXPERIENCE (should read: the experience of waiting in lines). As a trained scientist, Holler took ideas that root in scientific principle and brought into reality objects that follow thoughts like "what if...birdcages were hung like an Alexander Calder mobile?" or "would the placebo effect work on patrons that could take a pill voluntarily and not know it is empty?" or "what if you could float like you would on the Dead Sea in an indoor tank?"
Perhaps less overt, but still a big deal, the question is addressed "what if patrons could touch the art?" and "what if a visit to the museum was as fun as a visit to 6 Flags?"
Well, the lines were just like a six flags, without the funnel cakes (next time?).

In an exhibit that crosses the bridge from Natural History what-ifs to contemporary high art, Höller's work is somehow a smashing success. It drew the usual crowd with a sprinkle more children in family groups gawking at the slide the kids were too short to ride, and a heap of college age hipsters, especially as I left at 3:00p.m. (the time they got up from hangovers and decided to go do something crazy).

The Giant Psycho Tank was pretty crazy and worth coming out for (though I'm not sure worth a super long wait unless you've got a way to occupy your time). It was peaceful and surreal, floating (why do bodies float in a circle?) without holding your breath (like I did as a little girl in the bathtub).

His corridor of wonders was less epic after seeing the main draws, but not every "what if..." has an answer that is as cool as an indoor slide.

The slide was like any neat ride: a moment of childhood movement and play. I don't understand the need for Elmo's voice in the slide, however. Ending on the 2nd floor (it started on the fourth), the ride takes you through the 3rd floor Psycho Tank waiting line where bystanders can view your expressions through the plexiglass top half of the tube (but you are sliding too fast to notice eyes on your facial expression). It ends with a trippy entrance to the flashing lights on the 2nd floor, which is a little bit of a rude awakening from such an adrenaline rush. Höller is, admittedly, influenced by psychoactive mind-altering drugs, which inspire the experiences behind the work. I can't help but wonder what the exhibit would be like on mushrooms since it already attempts to recreate those effects for the sober.

One less experiential work was "One minute of doubt", a 1-minute video of cars in a parking lot jammed up (one trying to pull in, one pull out, one move around). It was a slappy one liner based around its title to convey meaning. Clever. Other pieces functioned similarly, swapping the experience for the title-based meaning, such as the placebo pill patrons could take.

One aspect of Höller's work I have not yet heard addressed is the fact that Höller himself did not construct these objects. His background is in science, not construction, so no doubt skilled technicians executed the plans for the tank, slide, carosel, aquarium, and likely the smaller pieces. So why does Höller get a pass while Hockney calls out Hirst on the very same activity? Is it because Höller's pieces are so damn cool no one cares about the question of authorship? I will just scratch my head on that one, raining down salt from the tank that is still all over my scalp (do I need another shower?).

Clearly there was a lot going on. The New Museum was the perfect venue for the show with enough space to disallow over-stimulus of very stimulating work. The museum is also hip enough to run with the art-attraction thing under any scrutiny, demonstrating they don't give a ((censored)) what critics say. After all, their ticket sales skyrocketed to attraction status with this show. Maybe they should keep the slide...

Over to Chelsea I found the usual: nothing much to speak of. The Flomenhaft Gallery (547 W. 27th St, suite 200) did have a very well rounded and mature group show of African American artists including Romare Bearden, Faith Ringgold, Beverly Buchanan, and Carrie Mae Weams. Highly recommended and resonating folk art traditions and racial themes, the show is a succinct and poignant selection of voices to eloquently address the popular and pivotal theme of racial identity in modern and contemporary artwork.

Ceres Gallery (547 W. 27th suite 201) exhibited work by women regarding the iconographic representation of females throughout art history titled "inside/outside". Visually captivating overall, the show well supplemented the theme often overplayed by feminists. Some pieces were the usual overly preachy, but most were balanced and dashing pieces of art which worked well together.

- Lynne Mayocole "Flower Child" 2011 - cast cotton fiber. This piece was captivating until I saw the other side, a crude doll-like female figure with a giant bush. Case in point of over-done feminism

- Perri Neri "Leaving" 2007 oil. This one has a beauty to it that compares to the Douthwestern sunset. A ravishing color palate and vivid expression, it was a painting that needed nothing other than paint (rare in today's mixed media trend)

- Phyllis Rosser "Insensible Rock" 2011 wood. I'm a sucker for driftwood.