Travel Tuesday

I've been seriously hurting for a good museum visit for at least, I don't know, three years. There are some historical museums here in Key West that I've yet to check out; but "historical" is not my idea of "good" so I haven't been motivated to go. I will eventually, soon, just to say I did and, more importantly, so as not to be a negative Nancy. But even before moving here: museum offerings are not stellar in Las Vegas. The last great exhibit I saw there was an Andy Warhol and Friends collection at the Bellagio Gallery of Fine Art. And for all the years I spent going to the First Friday Art Walk (which turned into a joke after Zappos moved its headquarters downtown and started funding and expanding the festival), I only encountered two artists whose work I semi-cared for.

But my gallery drought is about to end in Miami this weekend!

Though I am six months pregnant, that only stops me from drinking, not from enjoying art, food, and shopping. I've already been sampling online what I'm going to experience in real life. I'll spare y'all details about the food. It'll take too long. I'm pregnant; I'm going to eat everything.

But as far as the art goes:

(these two by Iman Issa at the Perez Art Museum of Miami)

Sculpture art makes me shudder for personal reasons. I get so many ideas for stories, essays, poems, films, magazines, even my own gallery ideas, that I can't ever possibly do them all, or even really decide which ones to do. And once I narrow it down, I get halfway through and think: ugh, is this even worth it? Is this good enough to see all the way through? That's why my novel took 10 years to write. That's why I don't hawk my book of short stories and poems, like, ever. So for an artist to get an sculpture idea, say, something like the ones above and actually go through the hassle of sculpting it, the thought seriously makes me cringe. They must really believe in themselves. But...should they? The only thing moving about the sculptures above is the artist's stubborn dedication. What made her stick with 'em? What about them made her stand back and feel proud and confident? Whatever it is, I'm not seeing it. I'm identifying with and admiring, with a shake of my head too, the artist's inner processes. Not the sculptures themselves. But I guess that counts enough as a point towards a successful end piece, huh?

(this, from the Margulies Warehouse collection)

I understand stuff like this, though. A burst of emotion caught on paper. If it took between 5 and 15 minutes to make in the heat of the moment, then I consider it legit. If it's something that took months to perfect, then I call it bullshit.

(this one by John Espinosa at MoCA, North Miami)

I have mixed feelings about stuff like this. One one hand, it's a sculpture that, in my mind, took a great amount of time, during which the artist surely could have come to his senses and abandoned the project. But on the other hand, I get neon. Not in a way I can put in to words. I don't know what it is about it that speaks to me, but I get neon. And what are the birds doing? They're doing enough of something to make me wonder and stare. So, okay then.