After you go visit the really terrific Alighiero Boetti show at MoMA, which I love, and after you see his ("his") tapestries and thingies on the second floor, don't forget to sneak through the surprisingly expansive second-floor galleries, which are showing a kind of semi-show, a kind of rotating collection-display they're calling "1980 to Now." Apparently at some point they'll like, reinstall it and update it or whatever. This is sort of better than being like "here are some recent things that people gave us!" But it's also kind of a curatorial nightmare, because you're making a declaration about, well, 1980 to now.
"His film has no distinctly audible dialogue so doesn't need subtitles, and he doesn't move his camera during the first half-hour. There is no music, just the sound of bells, of the wind in the trees, of the bleating of goats." —Would you like to see a movie tonight? Le Quattro Volte is playing at MoMA at seven. Fair warning: you could perhaps achieve the same qualities of stillness and reverence by staring at your bedroom wall. It's only 88 minutes long—but my God, thirty minutes of unmoving camera! (Also, the title is not to be confused with the delicious four-cheese pizza. I'm hungry.)
"Last week, the artist agreed to begin her performance early, specifically to accommodate BjÃ¶rk, Matthew Barney, and their young daughter. But no more, says a source within MoMA's communications office (who also prefers not to be named). 'It has been a balancing act to accommodate the wishes of the artist with MoMA's responsibility to the public,' this source said. 'In these final days of the performance, no one will be seated with Abramovic before public hours.' Except, it turns out, Marisa Tomei, who was allowed early access to the artist on Sunday morning."