Reflections on Ostalgia

First let's do away with the problem of the name: "Ostalgia" might mean a nostalgia for East German Communist times, but it is not the proven thrust of the fascinating and diverse melting pot of works housed in the 5 floors of the New Museum through September 25. The works are more ambivalent than that. Similarly, "ost" refers most directly to East Germany, but these works come from artists all over the former Eastern Bloc.

 Three Capacity Men, 2005, by Thomas Schutte with photographs from U-NI-TY, 1991-94 by Michael Schmidt’s 

If one ever thought if was possible to synthesize the works and experiences of artists from the 1940s to now from all of the countries into a coherent narrative without a didactism that overrules the complexity of the situation...well, clearly that is a tall order. Maybe it's best to leave it as Massimiliano Gioni, curator at the New Museum, says here:

“I had no ambition to tell the truth about the Soviet Bloc. Memory is never reliable, but it’s all we’ve got and this exhibition is about remembering a time and place that is quickly going away.”

Like Younger than Jesus, another show of Gioni's, the curation somehow sidesteps any guidance. However, in the sprawling, exhausting, bewildering expanse of works that make up Ostalgia, there is certainly a lot of worthwhile art to see.

No. 14 in the 'Relationship' series, 1989, Nicolay Bakharev

Bakharev has many photographs in the this show that, like this one, ignored the official ban on nudity.

No. 22 from 'Ogonyok' series, 2001 by Sergey Zarva

The artist paints the covers of a formerly popular Soviet magazine, although for him these are relics found in parent's and friend's houses as he was born later, transforming the covers into negative, demonic masks.

Julius Koller, U.F.O.-NAUT J.K. a (U.F.O.), 1987

Koller's work is part of a series called UFO, standing for Universal-Cultural Futurological Operations, among other things, and dealing with a new approach to Anti-Happenings and the Anti-Images. I'll leave you to draw your own conclusions. (It baffles me; I just really like the plate.)

The hundreds of works are fascinating overall, both as artworks and in their strong relation to life in the former Eastern Bloc. Each of them and their creators have distinct stories worthy of being told. The best way to get a sense of the many threads is to start on the 5th floor, where a room-sized mural acts as a visual history charting communism's rise and fall in the Eastern Bloc. Cotter of the New York Times was right to say that what could have been an amateurish survey turned into something more. I honestly can't wait to go back and have a second chance to delve into these works. And that is the first time I've thought that this summer.

Two Rainbows

Can you find the second rainbow? Clearly this was taken before the series of 100+ degree days, but with a little luck we might get some rainshowers this afternoon. Fingers crossed.

A Shimmering Heat

The Manneporte near Étretat (1886), Claude Monet 

At least Monet's shimmering heat has the ocean. We're looking at temperatures that of 101 here in New York, and the asphalt is indeed shimmering.

Coney Island

The Steeplechase, Coney Island (1929), Milton Avery

Luna Park Sign (1928), Walker Evans

Fourth of July, Coney Island (1958), Robert Frank

There might not be a steeplechase any more, but Coney Island remains essentially the same over the decades.  I loved finding these old photographs by Walker Evans and Robert Frank just for that reason. Especially at night, walking along the 100 year old boardwalk, one feels that people have been doing this here for ages.

Abandoned Subway Stations

There is something haunting about the abandoned underground tunnels of New York city, a mix of elegant early architecture, graffiti, and perhaps Mole people. City Hall Station, above and below, opened as part of the first subway line on October 27, 1904. Because of platform lengthening to accommodate longer trains (and thus more passengers) in the 40s and 50s, it was decided to abandon the station in favor of the nearby Brooklyn Bridge station, and so City Hall was closed to passenger service on December 31, 1945. 

Much more fancy than the other stations of its time, City Hall was designed with unique decorative tiling and skylights. Unlike other stations abandoned during the platform lengthening process, City Hall Station was securely sealed off because of security concerns. It remains pristine, as can be seen in these photos from a rare 2004 IRT Centennial celebration held there. It has since be re-sealed.


Other examples of abandooned stations fared differently:

91st Street Station

Full collection of 91st Street station images here. This station was closed in 1959 when the 96th Street station was lengthened and looks by far the most heavily graffitied.

18th Street Station

Less artfully graffitied, these 18th St. Station images show what happened to the station abandoned in 1948 when the 14th Street station was lengthened.

Worth Street Station

There is also a full collection of images from Worth Street Station. Stations that were closed in the city due to lengthening seem to have the most graffiti, maybe because they were still remembered 20 years later after the rise of spraypaint or maybe because they are so close to the working stations that edged them out.

Everything you ever wanted to know about the history of the NYC underground from its beginnings in 1904 until today can be found on www.nycsubway.org, and if you are like me you'll find the section on Abandoned Stations particularly interesting in their descent from elegance to chaos.

Colored Plastic Things

The Straws on the Doors via Economy Custard

Two of my favorite photography blogs seemed to be sharing a moment as I caught up on my Google Reader today. Both posted photos of unusual collections of colored plastic on wood, and both blogs worth a gander.

David Ikus

Cy Twombley: Selected Examples

Originally published Sunday, March 1 2009 and reblogged in honor of the artist's death today at 83.

A Progression Into Chaos

Beautiful images for your Sunday morning. Twombly's work is something I never tire of, even if seeing these images on a screen really takes away from their painterly quality and large size. Cy Twombly is one of my favorite contemporary artists, and if they would bring Le Quattro Stagione, his quartet of paintings, back to the atrium of MoMA, I would be quite happy.

There were fireworks.