I share the elevator until spring at 625 Madison avenue with an elegant older gentleman, which seems to work in the building. He sees me myself and the others and asks me: “Is there a kind of fashion event happening upstairs?”
I tell him that it is an exhibition of art, and the work is always of first order to it – he should see it.
“I don't think I will have time,” he said, lying down the word “time”. As he goes down from the elevator, he says aerially, on his shoulder, “… unless Anish Kapoor watch. “”
It is a day of overview more sifted to the Spring Break Art Show than the past years.
Maybe it's the rain? It is certainly not for lack of good art. In addition to the day of haute couture visitors, there are colors that burst in all corners of the artists, insistent and alive.
Well, above all. When I visit the standard 1118, I ask if the flowers in the stand are the same as those used in the energetic lives of Painter Tracy Morgan.
Stand 1120, nearby, is charged with ceramic sculptures by Dasha Bazanova, which walk on the tightrope between humor and devastation. Some figures live in the big life in swirl baths, the enracing rum; Others look at you with their perches on a built wooden installation; And some, like his brilliant “Pietà Ordayn” (2022), escape from a macbook screen in ceramic.
One of its figures, which can be seen in a video installation cramming with hot cheetos and takis before vanishing and peeing your own bathtub, seems to have done that exactly.
I ask him if the clip for children's rapper 2012 “Hot Cheetos and Takis”, by Da Rich Kidzz, inspired the use of these two special snacks. She says she has never seen it.
I ask the artist Jess Bass how she created two large 2D rooms at the entrance to her stand, 1129.
“Did you know that there are a lot of people trying to get rid of old used sails?” she said. “I find them on eBay.”
While painting balloons for her sculptural work, she collects her excess of dried painting. She adheres these stains of paint with the sails, painting faces on the spots when she sees a silhouette.
Artist Anne Spalter created her own floral bacchanalia and picnic through the use of the AI combined with keywords from the prompt artists, Lunch naked. Spalter worked with the artist and curator Coco Dolle on the stand, which looks like a poppy version of the “Lunch on the grass” of Manet – and has bouquets of artificial flowers with which to put.
Jeff Bliumus, a long -standing participant in spring holidays, takes me around his “magic carpet” structures, which can all turn on their basis.
“I like the sculptures that you can touch and feel, not (you feel deleted),” he said.
There is also a collection of murals, oblong as money after crossing a Penny press machine. In the latter, Blimis depicts public and political trauma, the assassination of JFK, on September 11, on the attack on January 6.
“We are traveling in our minds, through music, through art, through cinema, to escape these horrible realities, but in the end, we must always come back.”
Some women, old friends from Jeff, visit him in the stand. They underline a pointed nose and glasses exceeding one of its sculptures.
“Jeff, it's definitely your nose!” they say. “You put yourself in your own sculpture!” Then they surround him for a photo with it.
As I walk from Booth to Booth, I come across a group of cabins. There is a man carefully at work on his laptop and three statues with a horned horns nearby.
