I was in New York on Friday to see the Georgia O’Keeffe Abstraction show at the Whitney. The exhibit ended yesterday, so I can’t say, Oh, go see it, you’ll love it, because, well, you can’t, though you can still catch it in DC where it begins a run in February. There’s time to drive down to Washington, catch the show, visit the Obamas. (Call first) Unfortunately for me, I waited until the last minute to decide to go and I felt rushed, which was my own stupid fault. It’s never intentional. It’s just that I’ve been busy, you know. And I haven’t been so good at planning recently. Truth be told it’s because I came across an article or review somewhere, then spotting that one important re-Tweet, I gasped “Crap, gotta get down to see this one!”. It’s like making time for the favorite rich aunt who’s come to town; you just have to schedule in that visit, clean up nice, wear your best shoes and the hat she likes. You know she’s going to have a special gift for you. She always does.

“Aunt” Georgia is my favorite. Hands down. Though, I’ve only recently become acquainted with O’Keeffe’s representational abstractions, I think they’re incredible, compelling. The color, her use of space, her way with paint and her desire to simplify her images are akin to the things which continue to find their way into my own work. I understand immediately what she was communicating because our visual language is similar. At some point I have to make a pilgrimage to New Mexico, visit the Ghost Ranch and see the larger collection at the museum in Sante Fe. Who knows what some adobe and a few cow skulls might do for me.

Believe it or not, it’s been over 30 years since I stepped into the Whitney. I’ve no explanation for this. Except maybe my personal preference for the tidy cluster of other great art that’s in and around 5th Avenue and Central Park. It’s all packed in nice and tight, you can see it quick, sometimes all in one day and be back home in time for dinner. I’m an in-and-out museum crawler. I dislike crowds. Anyway, my husband and I hopped the 11:30 Metro North train out of Poughkeepsie, arriving at Grand Central Station around 1. After speed-eating through some decent pizza, we headed to Madison Ave, arriving at the museum just before the rest of the world. With a crowd building up for the docent tour at 3 pm I was anxious before I even took off my coat.

I feel greedy about the art I’ve come to look at. I want it all to myself. And I’m a tad claustrophobic. I grow testy waiting forever on lines where you mechanically queue up to spend all of one minute in front of a piece that deserves much more attention than it is rightfully getting. It’s worse than the DMV. And why are people so boldly taking cell phone pictures when they aren’t supposed to? Hey, read the sign!There are postcards in the damn gift shop. And all the inane chatter. I whip around but I can’t find the jerk who snidely called the show the “Vagina Monologue”. Hello! Where’s the respect? It makes me nuts. I’m protective to a fault.

When I visited the Louvre for the first time a couple of years ago, I would arrive in the morning, as soon as the doors opened, when everything was quiet, before the guards had even had their first cup of coffee. I’d get my front-row, “one-on-one” personal time with Mona Lisa. It was bliss. I did the same thing at the D’Orsay, the Pompidou, Picasso and the Rodin, high-tailing it out the minute someone brushed up against my arm, before the first idiot could be heard asking for directions to the bathroom. I did this in Venice, London, San Francisco, New Jersey. There is something about museum silence that is reverential, contemplative. Perhaps I’m being a bit ridiculous here, but it’s my preference. I want my personal “audience with the pope” if you will. Give me space, people. I’m having a moment.

Whether it’s a blockbuster show or a well kept secret, there’s nothing better than being with art, standing in front of what’s powerful and awe-inspiring, knowing that the hands of genius touched the work on display. As a painter, I respond strongest to two-dimensional work. I’m especially jazzed by very large paintings, pieces on a grand scale, in wide open spaces such as at Dia Beacon where I caught the Agnes Martin exhibit a couple of years ago. Immense sculpture is very exciting, too. A long spring day walking the grounds at Storm King makes me eager to get back to the studio as soon as I can. Who ISN’T inspired by Richard Serra or Louise Bourgeois? These works are all knock-your-socks-off amazing. As often as possible it’s vital that I reconnect to this greatness, to have my core shaken up. To remember why I do what I do.

Below is my list of some upcoming NYC exhibits I hope to see in the near future. I’ll be back with more museum news again. Til then I’m heading back to the studio. Here’s to making and seeing great art in 2010.

Whitney Museum of American Art: The Whitney Biennial Feb 25th-May 30

MOMA:Bauhaus Workshops for Modernity til January 25
Tim Burton til April 26
Picasso, Themes & Variations -March 28-Sept 6

Guggenheim Museum- just missed the Kandinsky show though the paintings still hadn’t been taken down from the wall on Friday and we got to see the work anyway. Thankfully, most of the pieces are in the permanent Thannhauser Collection.

Metropolitan Museum of Art:
Omare Bearden’s The Block -January 15, 2010–Spring 2010

Jewish Museum: Modern Art, Sacred Space: Motherwell, Ferber and Gottlieb-March 14, 2010 – August 01, 2010

Brooklyn Museum: Kiki Smith, Sojourn Brooklyn -Feb 12-Sept 12

©2010 Ann Haaland

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