Some of you already know that Barry and I kinda collect art things--lots of art things. So, if I occasionally make a point of talking about one artist or another in the midst of my political diatribes and my almost-cute New York anecdotes (or whatever), I guess I risk describing the merits of that particular person's work as worthier than any not so cited. I want to make it clear that such an elevation is not the interpretation I intend, today or at any time in the future (unless otherwise specified at the time, of course).
Nevertheless, I am extremely fond of the work of Yashitomo Nara. I first literally almost tripped-over the images here in New York a very few years ago, and I haven't been able to escape his snare since. I'm sure this impact is only remotely related to the fact that the subject of so many of his creations, the cute, pig-tailed, pissed-off little girl who won't take any nonsense from anyone, so resembles the wondeful Sister from whom I am currently estranged.
Nara also does dogs. Today B and I walked over to Tomkins Square Park where a beautiful and moving, I guess cow-sized (not related to that horrible multiple-cow project of late memory) crying-dog sculpture rests in a very homey open pavillion, simply crying its eyes out for us and for its kind. I understand that the piece is intended to be a symbol of empathy and friendship, the tears a metaphor for the healing realized for an individual embraced by a loving community. Maybe that's too much to ask of a plastic dog, but maybe not.
I've always loved that park, but it hasn't always been easy.
Oh, the dog. He's leaving us after this tuesday.
The installation is sponsored by Haagen-Dazs. The work is destined to be installed at the Westchester Medical Center's new Maria Fareri Children's Hospital.
