i didn't wake up expecting much. i was fourth on the list and the salvation army truck guys start work at 8:00 so if they showed before 2 i was going to be a happy camper. they would clear fifteen boxes and bags from my mom's apartment making it more appealing to prospective buyers which in turn would make my brokers happy. my brokers love the mad men vibe what with all the authentic mid century modern furniture. we called it danish modern back when nobody thought of it as middle of the century.
the truck showed up early and minutes later I was locking up and heading back to the city. (i don't know about the other boroughs but when kids who grew up in queens talk about 'the city' they mean manhattan. or anyway they did in the middle of last century)
off the E train i wandered down the high line from 14th street, eyeing my destination, as i have during its construction, with skepticism. the whitney museum. now i no longer think of it as the new whitney or the downtown whitney. it's the whitney. and i'm in love.
renzo piano's building, itself a masterpiece, is nonetheless wholly devoted to art. it doesn't merely display, it celebrates the whitney's remarkable collection. the building doesn't call undue attention to itself: yes, you notice the architecture but you notice, more, the way it enhances the work, the way it pours light into spaces impressive enough to inspire awe and comfortable enough to allow small works to sparkle.
the building fits itself seamlessly into its location, inviting the city in with lots of glass, moving the inside out in numerous outdoor platform spaces with stunning vistas of the city and the river. it lavishes love on the meatpacking district and i suspect that love will be returned. expect crowds.
enough with words.
romare bearden (detail)