...And I'm thirsty

I have a little problem with contemporary art. Namely, most of it is crappy. So when I learned that this week's intern field trip was to P.S.1, The Museum of Modern Art's contemporary art space, I was a little less than thrilled. I was even less thrilled when I went to the website the night before to see what was up. Finnish art? Now I have nothing against Finland. I'm sure the Finns are a delightful people, what with their reindeers and lovely sweaters, and um, other stuff. But what kind of art was going to be there?

Well, I'm pleased to say that I was totally wrong. I saw some totally awesome art today. Here's a link to the exhibit. You can see detail pictures of many of the coolest things there. There were four things I thought were especially cool. For the design aficianados among you, there was the Futuro Lounge, which is a version of futuristic plastic pre-fab housing from the 1960s. It was refitted as a space to watch installation videos. It was hard to imagine the place functioning as a home, but it would have made a thouroughly awesome bar.
If you go to the page I linked above and look at the rotating images at the top, you'll notice a rabbit standing in front of a pool of water. The picture doesn't do this one justice. The room was dark, lit from above with all the light shining into a round pool of water. It looked like moonlight and was cold and beautiful. The rabbit was standing on its hind legs with its front paws on the edge of the pool, and if you were standing across from it, it seemed to be looking directly at you. It was so beautiful I didn't want to stop looking at it, but there was almost something sinister about it all.
Also sinister, VERY sinister, was an installation by an artist named Markus Copper. Called Kursk, it was set in a small room off a quiet stairwell in a corner of the museum. It was dark when you walked in, and before you were several rows of large black old-timey diving suits hanging from the ceiling. Creepy enough, in its way. But then they started to move. Lights went on and off in their helmets, their arms (holding giant wrenches) started to move up and down. The whole thing was accompanied by banging noises and wooshing sounds. It was terrifying. Turns out it's an homage to a group of Russian sailors who were trapped deep under the sea in a nuclear submarine and all died. With the added background knowledge, the whole thing was even more disturbing. I don't know what it must have been like for those poor men, but if it was anything like that room, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. This one will be with me for a while. (The photo on the website is nothing like the actual room -- not nearly as dark and grim.)
There were other great things, like clothing made out of feathers and natural seeds and grasses, movie projects, more rabbit art, but I want to leave on a high note after that last thing there, so I'll mention the thing that I was most excited by. The Complaints Choir. I had seen a few of these videos on youtube before, but was pleasantly surprised to see that there were many more playing in one of the rooms in the exhibit. I guess the originators of the project were Finnish? If you haven't heard about this project, basically they go to different cities, get a group of volunteers together, and then write and sing songs based on things the people complain about. It's really awesome. The version from Helsinki, though not in English, is beautiful (there are subtitles). I especially liked this one, from Birmingham, England. The refrain is particularly catchy. I've been humming it all day.



So I'm glad I got proven wrong about contemporary art, and had a lovely and educational day despite myself. I like it when that happens. So go watch the complaints video, because for the moment, there are no complaints here. Happy weekend!