On Thursday the 6th i finally went to see the Richard Serra show at MoMA, first thing in the morning. Early on a weekday morning is the ideal time to visit the museum, which is great if you're unemployed. (Though not if you're broke -- $20, ouch!)
The focus of the show of course is the main gallery of gigantic steel sculptures, which are amazing. I'd seen several of Serra's sculptures in this vein at Dia Beacon and Gagosian, but it's always a pleasure to see them again and again -- especially in a museum setting, where even the teenagers who normally wear "i could do that" sneers are enthralled.
For me (and, i assume, for most of us) the materials and curves evoke naval vessels -- but i feel like these pieces can be appreciated and enjoyed by anyone, anywhere, without requiring any awareness of the history or vocabulary of contemporary art. Some of the spaces created by the works feel like temples or grottoes of steel rust.
Another gallery held a retrospective of the massive (but smaller-scale) sculptures Serra created throughout his career, largely made of big lead plates. I hadn't seen any of these in person before, but i was less enamored of them -- probably one should start here and move on to the ginormous steel pieces after.
The one piece in this section that completely blew me away was the 1967 "To Lift". I kept coming back to it on several passes through the gallery, and each time it almost made me laugh out loud at how much it packs into the pure simplicity of its presence. It really is the immediate physical evidence of a single bodily action of the artist, a raw artifact that is its own description, an object that is exactly how-it-was-made and nothing else. It melds the aesthetics of both mathematical curves and the human body and its scale in a way that i, at least, have never noticed before. It must have been an awesome thing to see in '67.
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