Guggenheim.

Colette and I met Marc at the Guggenheim last weekend. The Guggenheim is one of Colette's favorites. Those ramps to walk up and then down - the sights, the sounds, the curves, the colors. The space outside. Everything is perfect for exploring, downdogs, dramatic breathing in and out - eyes wide open and shut.









Colette walked into the gallery space (which has been carved out of the grand open forum of the Guggenheim) and saw bodies sprawled all over the floor. She was delighted. "Dodo!" (Everyone is sleeping!) She joined right in, staring up at the rings of color above. Marc was glad to follow her lead.







James Turrell's rings were lovely in their moody fluctuations. Marc and I agreed the exhibition was strange in that it cut off one of the most compelling components of the museum - the ramp that leads up and down, allowing one to see the art from many vantage points. There was a sheath of fabric creating a tunnel from the top of the rings near the ceiling down to the lobby floor. We both wished we had been able to view the innards and workings behind the skin. Alas, no. We followed the ramp all the way up anyway - Colette loved the walk - and found a long line toward the top. No one knew what they were waiting for. Once we arrived many minutes later in a tiny room with a poorly lit, gray rectangular painting (?) on one wall of the space - our expectations were a bit dashed. Ah well. The rings are still worth the visit, however. If possible, go lie on the floor with the others on a week day when there are fewer little Colettes and bodies to distract. I think the light circles would be amazing to soak in with few distractions.