ELLIOTT AT THE MUSEUMS

When in New York, Elliott will have culture …
BROOKLYN MUSEUM OF ART - ©MURAKAMI
Shelaine went shopping with her friends on Saturday so I grabbed the keys, strapped Elliott in the car and drove over the Brooklyn Bridge, wishing her a happy 125th birthday as we rolled across her spine. The Murakami show is great for kids, as long as they’re too young to ask questions. We had to stow the stroller so Elliott got to walk! He doesn’t get holding hands yet so I followed his lead and reined him in with his hoodie. It was fun circling the gigantic flower centerpiece five times and swooping him up in my arms to prevent a little finger painting.

Takashi Murakami has a strange mind – like he’s trying to appeal to a seven-year-old girl with the wit of a thirteen-year-old boy and the neurosis of a middle-aged man (sounds perverse when I spell it out like that … see it for yourself and we’ll compare notes). Then abruptly in 2007 tranquility appears in two pieces with Shogunesque bearded Buddha-type men with grown-up titles. My favorite: “That I may time transcend that a universe my heart may unfold.” Elliott’s favorite installation: the Kanye West video – he sat on my lap on the floor enraptured and didn’t even twitch his toes.

To add a little feminist balance to our day we stopped in for a quick tour of Judy Chicago’s Dinner Party before trotting over for a romp in Prospect Park. Kylee worked up an appetite pushing Elliott on the swing so we set out in search of a snack and were delighted to find Cheryl’s Global Soul where Chef Cheryl greeted us at the door. If you like spicy, the Thai mussels are excellent. (And if you’re tempted to give your toddler an empty mussel shell to chew on, trust me, it’s not a good idea!)

THE CLOISTERS (METROPOLITAN MUSEUM OF ART)
Sunday was a gorgeous day for a trip to The Cloisters, especially since I’d never been, Shelaine loves medieval art, and we had the car. On our way North we met up with Robert and Jack for a scrumptious brunch at Community Food and Juice at 112th and Broadway. I recommend the beet salad. And to spice it up add the side of sliced avocado (which I pilfered from Elliott’s meal). Delicious!

Elliott experienced the entirety of The Cloisters lying down, to the envy of several reluctant museum-goers who, upon seeing Elliott in repose, admitted to their companions they’d rather be napping. I like to take in my medieval art fast and fleetingly, as if I’m being chased through a castle by a two-headed lion. Relaxing in the courtyards is appealing - and these had vibrantly melodic birds and lovely lush herbs - but inside the cavernous stone spaces my claustrophobia kicks in and I pine for the too few slivers of sunshine. Elliott’s mother will have to take him back to The Cloisters sometime when he’s awake because one visit in this lifetime is enough for me.



MUSEUM OF MODERN ART
Our motto: why go to the beach on Memorial Day when you can have New York to yourself?! Elliott grabbed glances at every painting at MoMA as we breezed past the permanent exhibits in search of the Rothko's in Gallery 19, and playfully participated in the light installations of Olafur Eliasson. While soaking up the sounds in the strobe lit rain falling into trough in black room (my makeshift title) Linda commented, “It reminds me of the ‘70’s when we were all dropping acid,” to which a passerby replied, “I was thinking the same thing.” At which point it occurred to me it might not be the best place for Elliott to linger for a prolonged period, though he seemed to enjoy the sensory over-exposure.

Having our fill of indoor art, we hopped out to the sculpture garden to frolic in the fresh air with Maillol’s bronzes, which proved to be a perfect capstone to a sublime weekend. Elliott and I then headed home while Shelaine, Becky and Erin went for a stroll up Fifth Avenue and Benedicta and Linda went underground to see “Mother of Many Children,” a film about Linda’s childhood tribe in Canada.

Hopefully I will always find stimulating art to inspire Elliott and he will always provide me with a convenient excuse to duck out for a nap. Sounds like a perfect relationship.