Here’s an old one. Makes me want to step out into the street. (Black and white version, just to make it a tougher choice, below.)
Once upon a time, I was on a walk with a friend and stumbled onto this wall scene. It almost induced me into falling into a trap of expounding on What is street art? that child of the mythical beast that is What is art? but not today, Galvatron. Other Internet hills to die on today. (Color version plus a detail shot below. And, no, I wouldn’t wear that t-shirt.)
Some things are straight, some things are crooked; some things are muddied, some things are clear. A new year dawns with old doors and some will open, some will remain closed. I’m looking forward, but it is winter, a time when bitter winds prevail. Still, on it goes; let’s see what happens.
The door was not part of the mill building’s original design; I believe this is the one they put in for Büchel’s failed exhibit. Less light coming in there, but the entrance way provides a wider ingress available for the often large objects displayed in this football field sized art gallery at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art.
Some things no longer remain.
When you go to a new place and find something totally unexpected, it can really jar you but also spark the imagination. That’s what happened to me, at the Assabet River National Wildlife Refuge, when I wandered into the path of the ruins(?) of these military bunkers. I had gleaned from the signage that the area was formerly a military base, but I didn’t quite expect these imposing, mysterious structures to rise up beside the trails.
Some doors are open, some are closed, but there’s always a photographic opportunity. (Color version after the break.)