NYC | Save the drama for your MoMA

No, I probably won’t get ever sick of what I think are incredibly amusing MoMA/Mama related jokes (please see my last post about the MoMA, here: “Yo’ MoMA is so fat”), and I probably won’t ever get sick of the MoMA itself.  I lurveeee the MoMa and have already been there three times this year.  What I really like is that each time I go there, I have been able to see something different as the special exhibits are always changing.  Maybe I also like that it is walking distance to my apartment and that I can skip all the lines and get in for free with my corporate discount.  Or maybe I just like pretending I’m artsy, as discussed in this post.

In February, Mendy, Nicole and I decided to meet at the MoMA after work for drinks.  What?  For drinks?  Clearly I assumed that we were meeting at the Modern, the bar/restaurant by Danny Meyer (of SHAKE SHACK fame) which is in the same building as the MoMA, because you couldn’t possibly be able to drink *in* the Museum of Modern Art, right?  I can’t imagine what would happen if someone (me?!) spilled vodka on Van Gogh or whiskey on Warhol.  So when I got to the Modern and I didn’t see my friends, I called and then we were all thoroughly confused.  It went something like this:

Me:  “Hey, I’m here, where are you guys?”

Nicole:  “We’re right at the entrance”

Me:  (looking around again, not seeing them) “No, I’m at the entrance, I don’t see you”

Nicole:  “We’re right by the entrance”

Me:  (asking the waitress) “Is there another entrance?  My friends say they are right by the entrance…” (being told no, then to Nicole) “Are you at the Modern?”  (thinking the restaurant)

Nicole:  “Yea, we’re at the Modern” (thinking the museum)

Me:  “You’re at THE MODERN?  Getting drinks at the MODERN…?”  (thinking the restaurant)

Nicole:  “Yea, we’re at the Modern” (thinking the museum)

Repeat for ten minutes.  But we finally figured out the confusion and I walked into the MUSEUM and saw that they *were* serving drinks in the lobby of the Museum of Modern Art.  Apparently, it’s this event they do on the first Thursday of every month, which for some reason I was not aware of.  There was music playing, and tons of people sitting on the steps, just sipping their gin and juice, with their minds on modern art and modern art on their minds.  Of course, you could not bring your drinks upstairs with you, but I still think it’s kind of risky to have tipsy or drunk people around priceless pieces of artwork.  I mean, vodka on Van Gogh is pretty bad, but puking on Picasso?!  Disaster.


My parents visited this past Saturday and I obviously couldn’t resist the corniness of being *at* the MoMA *with* my Mama, so we decided to go there on the rainy afternoon they came up.  One of my favorite things on display right now is “Wishes” by Yoko Ono, in which people just wrote down wishes on cards and she arranged them in a glass box for everyone to read.  The best – and most ironic – is below:


We checked out some of the newer exhibitions, I Am Still Alive:  Politics and Everyday Life in Contemporary Drawing (until September 19th), Impressions from South Africa, 1965 to Now (until August 14th), and Looking at Music 3.0 (until May 30th), where we found Jay-Z himself.


The special exhibit I most wanted to see this time was Picasso: Guitars 1912-1914 (on display until June 6th), since I recently started playing the guitar (ahem: shameless self promotion to put me as the opening act for Rihanna right here), and have always felt a connection with my main man Pablo.  Picasso was obsessed with the shape of the guitar for some time and created both a paper sculpture and a sheet metal sculpture of his obsession and featured it in dozens of his paintings.  In some paintings, you could only see the neck, the soundhole and some strings, or just the curve of the body.  No photography was allowed inside, but don’t worry, there is proof I was there and can look really cool (?) playing an invisible guitar.


And check out how cute my parents are:


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