Rachel, who I had met in 1985 and who is pictured below, was attending art school in Philadelphia in 1996. One of her classes had arranged for a field trip to New York to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art and several galleries in Soho. After checking out the Met, Ray and I decided to sit out back and watch the rollerbladers in Central Park. We were young voyeurs in a trendy world we only knew of in movies and storybooks. Such a simple, brief snippet in my life, but without question, one of my fondest and happiest moments.
After the museum we all headed to Soho, with Rachel and I ten minutes ahead of the group. We stopped at a gallery and saw George Rodrigue's Blue Dog pieces for the first time. One on the fuel tank of a Harley Davidson. We walked on and stopped at Todd Oldham's shop that had gorgeous wallpaper in the fitting rooms and clothes too expensive to touch. Then we came upon a gallery owned by Tony Shafrazi. It was not until many years later that I learned the importance of this man on the art world. But that's a story for another time. As luck would have it, the gallery was showing the works of Jean-Michel Basquiat, a favourite of mine. Ray and I were the only ones in the gallery except for three grown ups chatting by a desk. I asked the woman if I was allowed to take pictures and she said so long as they were for personal use only. (Um, hi, I was like nineteen, clearly they weren't going anywhere.) So I was able to snap the above photos just before Rachel's class came bursting into the place with ferocious energy. But those few quiet minutes spent standing inches from so many significantly beautiful pieces was one of those spectacular moments that I visit in my memory time and time again.
After the museum we all headed to Soho, with Rachel and I ten minutes ahead of the group. We stopped at a gallery and saw George Rodrigue's Blue Dog pieces for the first time. One on the fuel tank of a Harley Davidson. We walked on and stopped at Todd Oldham's shop that had gorgeous wallpaper in the fitting rooms and clothes too expensive to touch. Then we came upon a gallery owned by Tony Shafrazi. It was not until many years later that I learned the importance of this man on the art world. But that's a story for another time. As luck would have it, the gallery was showing the works of Jean-Michel Basquiat, a favourite of mine. Ray and I were the only ones in the gallery except for three grown ups chatting by a desk. I asked the woman if I was allowed to take pictures and she said so long as they were for personal use only. (Um, hi, I was like nineteen, clearly they weren't going anywhere.) So I was able to snap the above photos just before Rachel's class came bursting into the place with ferocious energy. But those few quiet minutes spent standing inches from so many significantly beautiful pieces was one of those spectacular moments that I visit in my memory time and time again.
Love this "snippet" from the '90s!
ReplyDeleteThis was definitely one of my best days ever. Ahhhh, youth....
ReplyDelete