Today marks the opening of the 2015 Triennial at Manhattan's New Museum, billed as "the only recurring international exhibition in New York City devoted to early-career artists from around the world." From the looks of things, there's a lot of art to wade through, but in the eternal quest for virality, one work has emerged an early standout.
The Mad AssHatter Himself, Tucker Max, went to war with Chicago's Transit System over a series of advertisements for his film, I Hope They Serve Rosé On Fire Island, or whatever it's called. Guess who won?
Have you been laid off recently? Are you so depressed about the state of the job market that you find yourself sleeping all day? Have we got a job for you! The New Museum says it's looking for women ages 18 to 40 to take sleeping pills and sleep on a bed in the middle of the museum from 12pm to 6pm daily as a part of a new exhibit by artist Chu Yun. Even better: The museum is paying $10 an hour for the gig, which is a lot more than you're getting for sleeping in your own bed. Insomniacs and people with a fear of exhibitionism need not apply! [New Yorkology]
You can't fault the New Museum for trying to capture a bit of the election buzz. The institution unveiled an oil portrait of Michelle Obama today by Elizabeth Peyton, which features the First Lady-to-be listening to her husband address the crowd at the Democratic National Convention with daughter Sasha sleeping in her lap. It's now part of Peyton's exhibition, "Live Forever: Elizabeth Peyton," and will be on display until January 11th. [Unbeige]
For the bargain basement price of $275, the New Museum will provide you with the perfect accessory for your delusions of grandeur and persistent copraphobia: Gilded poo! The Museum actually sells capsules stuffed with gold leaf, "each approximately 1 inch long," in "sets of three," which they suggest that you swallow upon purchase. "Pure gold passes straight through the body and ends up in your stool resulting in sparkly shit!" according to their website. (The gold pills are made by long-ago Gawker fave Just Another Rich Kid.) If you're an actual museum member, they'll knock the price down to $247.50. Does that include a museum staff member willing to bear witness to the these Turds of Treasure when they materialize? [New Museum]
Last night Radar magazine had a party at the New Museum to celebrate "the most exciting rogues, renegades, and rule breakers of the year," a list that included facially scary but totally funny comedienne Kathy Griffin, 'The Squid And The Whale' teenfeelings-proxy Jesse Eisenberg, and something called "Spankrock." We didn't notice any of these people (institutions?) in attendance last night, but then, the party was on the ground floor and seventh floors of the New Museum and we fled the college-aged crowd on the first floor as soon as an opportunity presented itself in order to spend time on the seventh floor talking to the same 10 people we always talk to. The view from up there is almost pretty enough to convince you that it makes sense to build misshapen towers all over the Lower East Side. Anyway, Radar had decorated the walls with quotes from their various rogues and renegades and they spelled Riviera wrong. But hey, nobody's perfect.
We just got back from the press preview of the New Museum on Bowery. We took Richard Blakeley along to film. The austerity of the gallery space (with its high ceilings and poured concrete floors) and the vibrancy of the work mesh extremely well. The museum also featured a lot of old dudes talking about poetry and some bored-looking guards who were already muttering to themselves—though the museum doesn't officially open until the 1st.
