So as I pointed out in a previous post, NYU makes up for its lack of frat parties with a plethora of museum tours. Between visiting the modern MoMA and the ecclectic Whitney Biennial, I spent my weekend wandering the museum mile on the Upper East Side.
My favorite piece is pictured above, a photo series of letters by Moyra Davey entitled "We Are Young and We Are Friends of the Times". Here's a short little response I wrote about it while at the gallery:
They cover the wall. Not top to bottom, side to side, but somehow the twenty-six rectangular prints seem to encompass the whole side of the gallery. Natural folds and creases make these prints seem touchable, personal, until it becomes clear that they aren’t. They are pieces of art in a museum. They are blown-up versions of intimate letters. The scratches, tears, words, creases are magnified and pinned up to a wall for us to read. But we cannot see the whole message—only single words. Letters. Farewell! Friday. Your’s truly. Adieu. However, it is not only the portions of scribbled out writing preventing us from fully being able to read these letters. We do not know the sender or receiver. We do not know the context and times during which these messages were sent. We do not know if there are coffee dribbles, teardrop stains or lipstick smudges on the original papers. We do not know the relationship, but we want to.