A Commonplace Book

I wouldn’t usually bother writing down my thoughts on an event three weeks after I’ve been, especially with no photos of my own to show, but the PopRally event organizers at MoMA really did an amazing job organizing the DFA Color Chart Party earlier this March. (It is rumored that some photos of my tie-dyed socks are incoming ASAP via the unfailingly prepared Irene.) Of course, my glowing opinion of this most recent soirée is at least a bit affected by how spectacularly disastrous the previous PopRally event went.

That party, June’s Paper Rad feat. Cory Arcangel, was a confluence of pretty much everything that could go wrong at an art museum party. The crux of the problem was that the majority of the event’s open hours were occupied with a cross-media performance which, between my love of glitch music and affection for interactive entertainment not to mention deconstruction thereof, I should have loved. Instead, I spent the whole time wondering how much longer I should stay to justify the $12 I spent on the ticket.

I can even guarantee my memory of the event wasn’t skewed by liquor because I only stayed at the party for about an hour and a half, not nearly long enough to get through the two hour line to the open bar. I think they might have actually been muddling mojitos up there.

I feel a touch bad for opening with the reasons the Paper Rad event went so badly, but it only highlights exactly how awesome the Color Chart party was. There was no line to get in and no line at the (downstairs back-corner) bar, the music ran the perfect mix of vocal and tech house, and there were a ton of people on the dance floor from when I walked in until I walked out at the end.

The exhibition felt a bit like it was thrown together from scattered parts of the permanent collection more as an attempt to draw in viewers than to make a serious argument, but a few different works did stand out enough for me to come back later. Besides, on a Saturday night the gallery was more of a cooling down area from the overheated dancefloor than anything else.

Whatever happened in the months between these two parties, MoMA has definitely got their issues figured out. Last June I walked out of the museum swearing I’d never return to a MoMA party held outside of P.S.1. After breaking that promise and coming back in March, I can’t wait for the next one.

Update: I’ve realized that when I’m writing I default to two-dollar words as I grow more and more tired. “Crux,” “confluence,” and “deconstruction” all in one paragraph? That’s just obnoxious.

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Every team brings a different ethos to New York’s annual Running of the Idiots, AKA the Idiotarod. Some teams, like Colonel Angus, are there to race. Some teams, like the Golden Shower Girls, are there to cause havoc. And some teams, like Kostume Kult, are there to preen.

After a marathon cow-building and costume-designing session the night before, Kostume Kult’s SaKred Kow cart set off at a leisurely pace this past Saturday and took its time enjoying the ride from Chinatown to Red Hook. Clad in a range of oranges that could be described as an assault on the eyes at best, we forsook the race for first in favor of some more wholesome and less goop-covered activities.

Between protesting the local fast-food restaurants, recruiting a Hare Krishna devotee, and stopping at some bars, we managed to escape the worst of the food throwing and cart sabotaging. We also came in so far to the back of the pack, with a time of 3 hours and 36 minutes, that I’m not sure if we actually beat any other teams.

Although it would have been nice to win a prize beyond “Best Recruitment of New Members Along the Course,” I can’t fault the judges for giving “Best in Show” to Team Danger Zone. My instinct is to lump 80s nostalgia right in there with pirates and ninjas as lame and unoriginal (at least there was no Team Bayside High) but Team Danger Zone took it to another level with their costumes, cart, music, and sketches.

Fakework also deserves every bit of applause they get for the effort that obviously went into their Marie Antoinette cart, although they might simply have exploited my weakness for cake and thigh-highs.

And finally I think some credit should go to the Golden Shower Girls despite their having walked away the overwhelming favorite for this year’s “Most Despised” award. No matter how annoying and dangerous they might have been at the front of the pack, I didn’t have to deal with them in the back and they have my gratitude for spending the morning harassing Team We-Have-Neon-Wigs-And-Drank-Too-Much-This-Morning-And-Could-Not-Be-Any-More-Obnoxious-If-We-Tried.

The full set of photos I took is here and some selected favorites are below.