Whitney Biennial

It's probably been said more times than I know that the worst thing about
post-modernism is that nothing is shocking, that feeling of having your
breath taken away, so valued in human experience stops happening pretty
fast if you allow yourself to get jaded enough.

The only thing that really grabbed was the gospel music and the end of the show.
The esoteric spiritual universe of the monks was situated out in the courtyard,
from the south

Maybe the work a day sense of the show was an attempt to get back to the
the ethics that shaped the early abstract expressionist and other hallmarks
of American art. It seems that as the art world has become more centered around
grad schools, there seems to be a real nostalgia and a desire to recreate
the more working class reality that the sign painting Abstract Expressionists
and share cropping Beats were part of less by choice than necessity. Though
with debt and unemployment soaring the question of choice seems once
again as always a luxury rather than a given. This internal struggle seems to be
the theme of the show. Whether that makes for good art is another question.

Minotaur which was this representation of the ultimate macho man was done
by a self trained artist.Another type of macho was Nina Berman's depictions of the Iraq war veteran, a memorable photo collection of a young soldier horribly disfigured by the war trying to hold together his marriage and life back home.
There was a fun red foam thing that you wanted to climb under by Robert Grosvernor. A performance artist who clawed her way out of a box.

There was a lot of gestural abstraction, this is especially showcased on the website.

And maybe if the Biennial Art didn't grab me I don't remember ever being as
happy at a Biennial. Somehow, I saw a million friends at the show, running into
them unplanned.