Whenever my friend Ellen comes to town, it means an action-packed few days. Last weekend was no different.
My other friend Aki and I got Friday night started early with a visit to Chelsea Market.
The market is a lot more happening than it used to be. I remember going years ago and it being kind of empty except for a couple of markets and bakeries. Now there are tons of little eateries, as well as tons of people.
I got there a little early so I had time to squeeze in a —
— at the Chelsea Wine Vault. Most of the wines were delicious. One white was a tad dry for me. I didn’t expect to like the reds, but they were very mellow. My favorite of course was the sweetest one, which was also bubbly. That was enough to get me good and tipsy so I didn’t even need an $8 happy hour cocktail.
Then for dinner Aki and I split a ground lamb hummus entree from Dizengoff for $14, or $7 each.
That with a little cucumber and tomato salad and a fresh, hot pita each was surprisingly filling and unsurprisingly delicious.
We wanted dessert and thought Seed + Mill had ice cream in cones and cups, but turns out they sell their goat’s milk ice cream only by the pint at their Chelsea Market location. The guy tried to convince us to get some halva. We tried some (free sample), and while it was good, it wasn’t ice cream.
We met up with Ellen at the Whitney which was, you guessed it, free! Friday nights admission is pay what you wish. Also my Pratt alumnus ID gets me and one guest in for gratis.
As you can guess, the line to get in was hella long, especially since it was the last weekend of the Biennial. But it moved pretty quickly, and before we knew it, we were in.
So how was it? Hard to say. There were so many people, it was hard to get a handle the exhibit. Maybe it would have been more meaningful if I had the chance to read and absorb, but instead I was just annoyed and overwhelmed. I did, however, enjoy the Calder exhibit that opened that night.
The last Whitney Biennial I really liked was way back with Matthew Barney’s CREMASTER Cycle series. I can’t remember what year it was. I don’t remember being impressed by any since then although maybe I’ve just forgotten.
Next up: a Saturday at Storm King.