It's All Fun and Games Until Someone Loses an Eye
Saturday night Dustin and I went to Jennifer's for a Board Game Party. She had Cranium (my personal favorite), Taboo and all kinds of games. With Taboo, I learned how good I am at giving clues (particularly when they involve celebrity impressions), but not picking them up.
But we had to split the night between Jennifer's and a birthday party for D's friend Derek in a gorgeous house in Brooklyn. We ate mint and radish sandwiches and mingled.
We hung out with the cutest married couple in the whole wide world.
And talked to this couple about the top three events that had happened since we last saw them (which was at Seder). Their biggest thing was spending six weeks in Southeast Asia.
The next day was the last day of the Annie Leibovitz exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum. We decided we just had to go, braving the winter chill (which finally arrived).
We showed up and 3,000 of our closest friends were there to greet us.
We were told by a very helpful security guard that the outside line was an hour, then there was the line to get into the elevator, then there was another hourlong line once you got upstairs just to get into the jam-packed gallery itself. Seeing the above crowd, we definitely believed her. But we didn't want to stand in line, so Dustin pulled what he calls "The Mexican." That's basically cutting in line. But I've never seen anyone do it like he does, which is to say, with complete succcess. It may be unethical, but man it's awesome to skip an hour of waiting time. We slithered past everyone and got some tickets, then walked up five flights instead of taking the elevator... then arrived at this line for the actual gallery:
... which snaked around the length of the whole fifth floor. While scoping out the situation to find a weakness in the line security, we took a look at Ron Mueck, whose sculptural exhibition turned out to be one of the coolest, not to mention creepiest, collections I've ever seen. He makes amazingly lifelike sculptures of various sizes... some are teeny teeny tiny and some, like this one, are huge.
This one was a newborn baby girl, so realistic that it kind of made me nauseous. (We're not actually allowed to take pictures... Dustin got these on the down-low. We were really into breaking the rules that day.)
This was a giant lady.
However I, not being an actual Mexican, got a little overconfident in trying to sneak into line and got caught. It seems I have a lot to learn, or so says my sensei. So we had to stand in at least one line. This big one...
... without which we never would have seen all of the other cool art on this floor, including this sculpture by a late septuagenarian. The hands are not separated from the rest of the stone, they are carved out from it.
We finally made it into the gallery, and it was, in fact, jam-packed with people. It was hard to see things and I got more than a little claustrophobic. However, it was a fabulous exhibit. The photographer had curated her own collection, comprised of amazing celebrity portraits combined with intimate, poignant photos of her family, including Susan Sontag and their daughter Sarah.
I like the White Stripes.
She even included some grand-scale landscapes, the impact of which was magnified by Leibovitz's desaturation of color and unique use of light.
When it was all over, we went to Klong, a delicious Thai restaurant, for dinner.
And that was my weekend.
love,
*jenna*
But we had to split the night between Jennifer's and a birthday party for D's friend Derek in a gorgeous house in Brooklyn. We ate mint and radish sandwiches and mingled.
We hung out with the cutest married couple in the whole wide world.
And talked to this couple about the top three events that had happened since we last saw them (which was at Seder). Their biggest thing was spending six weeks in Southeast Asia.
The next day was the last day of the Annie Leibovitz exhibition at the Brooklyn Museum. We decided we just had to go, braving the winter chill (which finally arrived).
We showed up and 3,000 of our closest friends were there to greet us.
We were told by a very helpful security guard that the outside line was an hour, then there was the line to get into the elevator, then there was another hourlong line once you got upstairs just to get into the jam-packed gallery itself. Seeing the above crowd, we definitely believed her. But we didn't want to stand in line, so Dustin pulled what he calls "The Mexican." That's basically cutting in line. But I've never seen anyone do it like he does, which is to say, with complete succcess. It may be unethical, but man it's awesome to skip an hour of waiting time. We slithered past everyone and got some tickets, then walked up five flights instead of taking the elevator... then arrived at this line for the actual gallery:
... which snaked around the length of the whole fifth floor. While scoping out the situation to find a weakness in the line security, we took a look at Ron Mueck, whose sculptural exhibition turned out to be one of the coolest, not to mention creepiest, collections I've ever seen. He makes amazingly lifelike sculptures of various sizes... some are teeny teeny tiny and some, like this one, are huge.
This one was a newborn baby girl, so realistic that it kind of made me nauseous. (We're not actually allowed to take pictures... Dustin got these on the down-low. We were really into breaking the rules that day.)
This was a giant lady.
However I, not being an actual Mexican, got a little overconfident in trying to sneak into line and got caught. It seems I have a lot to learn, or so says my sensei. So we had to stand in at least one line. This big one...
... without which we never would have seen all of the other cool art on this floor, including this sculpture by a late septuagenarian. The hands are not separated from the rest of the stone, they are carved out from it.
We finally made it into the gallery, and it was, in fact, jam-packed with people. It was hard to see things and I got more than a little claustrophobic. However, it was a fabulous exhibit. The photographer had curated her own collection, comprised of amazing celebrity portraits combined with intimate, poignant photos of her family, including Susan Sontag and their daughter Sarah.
I like the White Stripes.
She even included some grand-scale landscapes, the impact of which was magnified by Leibovitz's desaturation of color and unique use of light.
When it was all over, we went to Klong, a delicious Thai restaurant, for dinner.
And that was my weekend.
love,
*jenna*
posted by jenna at 11:07 AM
2 Comments:
Let me just say that I love how I'm not in any of the pictures from my own party.
And also, how bored everyone looks.
About 12 years ago I went to a wine-tasting exhibit in Phoenix of Annie Lebowitz. That too was a long line for her autographed book. I couldn't afford one. It was neat to see her, but boy, I regret not going all the way that night! oh, you know what i mean!!
AND, last week I used a Sontag essay for night class. Great blog, my dear.
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