The “New” MoMA, And The Gorillas In The Room

Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (except *)

MoMA, 1st floor lobby sign, October 19, 2019. I’ve been through this before. The last time, it was a nightmare. How would this “new” MoMA be?

MoMA and I go a long way back. It’ll be 40 years next year. 

I can remember this like it was yesterday…The entrance to Pablo Picasso: A Retrospective at MoMA, 1980. My Art show attending career began when I walked through that entrance. *MoMA Photo.

I first went to The Museum of Modern Art in 1980 for their incomparable Pablo Picasso: A Retrospective that took over the whole museum. I was on the road with a band at the time and I flew back to NYC twice to see it. Though it was not my first trip to a museum to see Art, it began my career of seeing Art shows and is burned indelibly in my mind since. While I came away feeling the late works were underappreciated, the earliest works which were new to me, like Science and Charity, 1897, Painted at age 15, seen through the entrance, above, particularly astounded me, and it never let up from there. An almost impossibly high bar had been set. I wasn’t able to attend MoMA regularly until after the 1984 renovation, which I call MoMA, 1984. Looking back on that MoMA now, I have quite fond memories of the building. I’ll never forget being in the gallery the museum dedicated to Claude Monet’s Water Lilies, 1914-26, long a very important bridge between representational Art and abstraction for me. As I recall, it was a small room, with a bench along the window overlooking West 53rd Street. You entered the room where panel 1 met panel 2, at about 10 o’clock as you faced it. You sat there and the three huge panels surrounded  you, making you feel like you were inside it. It was one of the greatest feelings I’ve ever had looking at Art. I didn’t think MoMA, 1984 was anything special at the time, but given how lacking MoMA, 2006, the most recent MoMA was, which of course, is still with us in the partially new MoMA, 2019, I now feel quite nostalgic for a building that was “adequate” at best, overall.

The heart of Art darkness. Construction for MoMA, 2019 in progress at the famous main entrance, behind the arrows pointing visitors to the temporary entrance, December 20, 2018.

I saw Matisse-Picasso at MoMA Qns in 2003, where MoMA was temporarily as MoMA, 1984 became MoMA, 2006, which I went to innumerable times (and have written about a number of its shows here on NYNYC), from it’s earliest days. MoMA, 2006, which opened that November, was terrible, in my opinion (I replaced a stronger negative). I remember standing in utter shock looking at Monet’s Water Lilies installed around the base of the huge, open space, they called the “atrium,” where they had no sense of their compositional continuity or unity. Barnett Newman’s Broken Obelisk, 1963-9, installed in the center of the space looked better there than anything I’ve seen there that came after it, which is not really saying anything all that positive.

The newly renovated main entrance. Opening day, October 21, 2019.

“The Shopping Mall of Modern Art,” I took to calling MoMA, 2006, the one we’ve been living with these past 13 years. I don’t live in the suburbs partially because I hate malls, yet, here we were given one. The Architect, Yoshio Taniguchi, said1 “The model for MoMA is Manhattan itself.“ He spoke about how Central Park is like MoMA’s Sculpture Garden in his concept. Apparently he felt the rest of Manhattan is one giant shopping mall, cause that’s the design we got- a department store, nothing more, nothing less, who’s floors/departments are connected by an escalator, as they always are. If MoMA had decided to move to an entirely new location instead of turning MoMA, 2006 into MoMA, 2019, whoever would have come into the building would have a virtual turnkey Macy’s II ready to go. “Contemporary on 2,” “This way to the Permanent Collection, and home fixtures…I mean Design”…

That brings me to the Gorillas in the room…Both of them.

“There’s a hole
In my life
There’s a hole
In my life”*

The “atrium,” Member’s Preview” for the “new” MoMA, October 19, 2019.

The first is that 110 foot tall gorilla in the building officially or unofficially called the “atrium.“ For some reason that I have not for the life of me been able to figure out over a few hundred visits these past 13 years, the Architect decided to drop a 110 foot tall atrium, (the “hole” I call it), smack dab in the middle of the building that, apparently, even some of the world’s great curators haven’t found a defining use for in almost one and a half decades2. I don’t blame them. I blame the Architect and whoever else thought this space was a good idea. I’ve never seen them use any more than the first 20 feet or so of its 110 until they mounted a decal-like iridescent work, seen above, on one of its walls for the opening of MoMA, 2019. And, I blame those who decided not to remove it in MoMA, 2019.  MoMA created MoMA, 2019, partially, because they “needed more space.” Well, guess what? You’ve got 7,700 square feet, or so, of completely useless space right smack dab in the middle of the building3, right in the middle of some of the most expensive real estate on earth. Instead of extending each of the floors as they should have been originally and filling that hole, they tore down an existing, good, museum, The American Folk Art Museum, formerly at 45 West 53rd Street next door!

Construction of the new building for MoMA, 2019, where the American Folk Art Museum stood, seen on December 20, 2018.

“Shadow in my heart
Is tearing me apart
Or maybe it’s just something
In my stars”*

Frankly, all of this galls me.

“Soaring…””Majestic…””One of NYC’s great interior spaces…” Oh, sorry. I was reading about the Guggenheim. I can’t find anyone saying that about this.

Because of the atrium, the flow of every floor in MoMA, 2006 is broken up, causing headaches for visitors and curators. This goes right to the heart of the museum’s purpose- showing Art. A good number of the galleries in MoMA, 2006 felt strangely shaped, small, or lost. In this case, small doesn’t add “intimacy.” Instead, it serves to actually minimize the effect of the Art being shown in them, in my experience. The Brancusi show mounted before the summer, 2019 closure, and the new Betye Saar show both suffer from this, in my opinion, both being mounted in the same 2nd floor gallery, tucked off to the south side of the hole, behind sliding glass doors (which I also think are an annoying idea and an energy drain), unchanged between Moma, 20o6 and MoMA, 2019.

Apparently, given it’s still here in MoMA, 2019, MoMA is in denial that the atrium is a problem. For me, visiting MoMA, 2006 gives me the unmistakable feeling that I’m continually walking around, and working my way around, the hole, instead of the whole experience just flowing.

MoMA’s floor plan for part of the “new” 2nd floor. I’ve added notations in dark blue- a label for the atrium to point out where it is and how it needs to be navigated around. I’ve also labelled where MoMA, 2006 was (below the added blue line) and labelled where MoMA, 2019 is now (above the blue line) in the margin. Not shown- the other galleries on this floor, located in what MoMA now calls the “South” section (to the left and lower left.). All are effected by the “atrium.” Bear in mind- this is only ONE floor!

In fact, in MoMA, 2019, they’ve decided to double down. Keeping the hole, they’ve opted to extend the existing 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th floors the other way- to the west. I take this as an admission that the floors needed to be extended. We differ on how. You can see this in the 2nd floor floor plan, above. I’ve drawn a blue line to the left from gallery 205 and everything above that is the new building, what I call MoMA, 2019, below is what I call MoMA, 2006. It almost works. It does serve to minimize the “interference”/inconvenience of the hole, unless you’re in a section where you have to navigate around it. Alas, as soon as you are back in the “old” building, the MoMA, 2006 part, there it is, rearing its ugly head again, sending you to a floor plan trying to find your way. But, it also dramatically effects MoMA’s curators, and no doubt, every single show they mount in these spaces. WHY they just didn’t remove the atrium and extend the floors and make the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th floors full floors? (The 6th floor is a different matter, I believe due to the heights of the buildings. It already is a full, raw, space in the MoMA, 2006 building and a cafe has been installed on 6 on the MoMA, 2019 side (which I have not seen as yet. You can walk through from MoMA 2006 to MoMA 2019 on 2, 3, 4 and the 5th floor, but you can’t on 6. If you’re on 6 in MoMA 2006, you have to go down to 5, walk over to MoMA, 2019, and then go up to 6 on that side, or vice versa). That they didn’t remove the atrium is another, huge, mistake in my view. Alas, it’s too late for tears. And having been sad about MoMA’s building since MoMA, 2006 opened, I’m about cried out. Yes, MoMA, 2006 was so bad it actually kept me from going at times.

Where the heck am I going? Before going anywhere, it’s a good idea to check the “central scoreboard,” as I call it. West? North? South? What? Look quick! Those listings next to each floor change to show other things going on on that floor. Seen on the official opening day, October 21, 2019.

Another question for me is HOW do you redesign the building into MoMA, 2006, spending over 850 million dollars doing so, and not early on in the game ask, “WHERE are we going to put our most popular works?” Apparently, no one asked. Over the subsequent 13 years of the building, Monet’s Water Lilies and Van Gogh’s Starry Night, to name two, were continually moved, and never once looked to have found THE place for them. I lost count of how many places I saw the Water Lilies in MoMA, 2006, all the while with that indelible memory I recalled earlier in my mind.

The brand new elevator doors open on my first visit to MoMA, 2019’s 2nd floor, October 19, 2019.

SURELY someone would ask that question when it came to designing MoMA, 2019! Two visits in? The answer is a decided…I’m not sure.

Home? At last? Monet’s Water Lilies, 1914-26, in a gallery devoted to his Water Lily Paintings (yes, they have others). We’ll see how long these stay here.

The Water Lilies seem to have been given some thought. They are decently situated in a gallery that contains only Monet Water Liliy works on an angled wall, similar to one of the installations they had in MoMA, 2006. You can scan the whole work continuously but it doesn’t give you a “wrap around” feeling. Starry Night fares far less well. It’s stuck in a corner(!?) at the end of a long gallery. I was shocked when I walked in and saw this. It’s just terrible.

Cornered! Vincent van Gogh’s beloved Starry Night, 1889 can be barely seen (as usual), though it’s now stuck in a corner. Seen on the official opening day, October 21, 2019

In this large gallery one other Van Gogh is installed half way down the wall to the left. I didn’t get the feeling of connection with the other works shown near Starry Night. Munch, who I greatly admire, is seen on the left hand wall, and while many pair him with Vincent, he gives me a completely different feeling, though l’ve wondered if Vincent may have been an influence on the Artist who was a decade younger. MoMA may have felt that putting other Van Goghs next to Starry Night might have created too big a crowd. I can live with seeing Munch next to Van Gogh’s. As seen in this gallery, due to the new arrangement of the galleries, multiple works by the same Artist are spread out, often across galleries.

Picasso, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907.

That means that if you want to see, say, the Picassos, you have to plot a path to a number of rooms, where you might see one, or you might see 3 or 4. If you have multiple Artists on your hit list of pieces to see? You’re going to need a good chunk of time- just to plan your routes. Especially if they’re installed over multiple floors. I have mixed feelings so far about this arrangement, but I’ve been living with this collection for decades, and while I prefer seeing it chronologically so you can see how Art has evolved over time, mixing it up can be a nice change of pace and reveal new synergies. This “theme” strategy, which is more like that of a special exhibition, feels geared to people like me who have lived with the collection for a while and might welcome being surprised (if that’s what they feel). First time visitors, or those here with limited time, may feel differently.

Picasso, The Charnel House, 1944-5. The iconic Guernica is a work Picasso Painted in 1937, in the early days of World War II. The Charnel House was Painted at the end of the War, bookending Guernica, though far less well-known. Guernica was part of MoMA’s collection until Picasso died. He stipulated in his will it be returned to Spain. So, including it in the 1980 Picasso Retrospective, where I was able to see both of them, was something of a farewell before Guernica went to Spain.

Picasso seems to fare better than Starry Night. At least three of his major works (Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907, Three Musicians, 1921, and The Charnel House, 1944-5) get walls all to themselves- in different galleries.

The upper left corner of Dali’s, The Persistence of Memory, 1931 (aka the “Soft Watches”). Picasso watch- Girl before a Mirror, 1932, is partially seen in the rear to the right.

As for other works on the most popular list, one was easier to find. Dali’s The Persistence of Memory, 1931 (aka the “Soft Watches”) gets a pillar to itself front and center in gallery 517. And on the opposite side of the same wall is Frida Kahlo’s Self-Portrait with Cropped Hair, 1940. That was easy. I only had to ask once to find it. (The Water Lilies? I asked 3 times. I saw another visitor seeking them ask twice.)

I found the galleries to be well lit, as readers well know, lighting is one of my long standing peeves in most spaces I see Art. One gallery of 2 Hopper Paintings accompanied by a good many Photographs was a bit dark, I presume this was intentional for conservation purposes. The consistency of the lighting across the museum that I’ve seen thus far is to be commended.

Lower level gift & book shop. One of at least 2 in the museum.

The first floor lobby felt like being in any of the faceless, large Times Square hotels nearby. It felt that a lot of money was spent here. Yet, I can never recall asking someone “How was your visit to such and such museum?” and getting the response, “Oh, the lobby was amazing!” I believe “sinking” the gift shop/book store is a mistake. Getting anywhere in MoMA, 2019 requires taking stairs and elevators. The last thing people may feel like doing is taking MORE stairs just to visit a shop. We shall see.

Not listed on the floor plan, the previous cafe has been replaced by a Brancusi gallery on 5 (gallery #500). Behind it, we now get free access to the outside patio overlooking the Sculpture Garden.

“There’s something missing from my life
Cuts me open like a knife
It leaves me vulnerable
I have this disease
I shake like an incurable
God help me please”*

Jean-Michel Basquiat, Glenn, 1985, left, Keith Haring, Untitled, 1982, right.

Then there’s the other gorilla in the room at the “new” MoMA, 2019. My feeling is that MoMA, The Museum of Modern Art, is dangerously close (if it hasn’t happened already) to remaining just that, indefinitely. It’s not THE Museum of Modern & Contemporary Art many think it is. Their collection of the most important Contemporary Art is nowhere to the level of it’s preeminent collection of Modern Art (the period I consider to be approximately from Edouard Manet’s Le Dejeuner sur l’herbe, 1862, through 1979), or the collections of important Contemporary Art in LA, SF or Chicago, in the US. MoMA (and all the NYC museums) have fallen hopelessly behind in collecting important Contemporary Art. Jean-Michel Basquiat (J-MB) is a classic case, but he’s not alone. As they admitted, they didn’t collect his work early on and now it’s too late. I recently recounted MoMA’s history (or lack thereof) with J-MB in my series on the J-MB shows going on in NYC this year. Revealingly, only one of the 5 shows in NYC was mounted in a museum- The Guggenheim. Then, when I walked into the member’s preview for MoMA, 2019 on October 19th, low and behold there was a Basquiat front and center in the second gallery, above. It turns out they borrowed it from a private collection. This seemed to me to be a classic case of “smoke and mirrors,” of trying to hide this large hole in their Contemporary Art collection- and, after all these years (40 next year), possibly an admission they were “wrong” about Jean-Michel Basquiat.

Louise Lawler’s Does Andy Warhol Make  Your Cry?, 1988, above, and a group of 24 Untitled Film Stills, by Cindy Sherman.

Elsewhere on the 2nd floor, the entire first gallery, titled “Public Images,” was made up of work by women Artists, as if to immediately counter the oft mentioned fact that a very small number of women Artists have been given retrospectives by MoMA. They have also installed a Betye Saar show, The Legends of Black Girl’s Window, across the atrium, centered around a recent acquisition by the museum of earlier work by Ms. Saar. It doesn’t include any of her more recent, powerful, work, some of which were presented in Washboards, 1997-2017, presented earlier this year at the New York Historical Society. While nothing will detract from her overdue appearance in a substantial show in another NYC museum, I was left wondering why they didn’t mount the long overdue full Betye Saar Retrospective, who is still going strong at 93, while she’s alive to enjoy it. Looking at MoMA’s permanent collection online, time and again, I found either a lack of any works by important Contemporary Artists (Ai Weiwei? Robert Frank’s Photographs? Leonardo Drew? Rod Penner? Gregory Halpern? Petra Collins?…None by any of them. The most recent work by Betye Saar, who was born in 1926, is from 1972- 47 years ago!), a lack of their important work, or a lack of depth of these works (2 works, each, by Henry Taylor, Francesca Woodman, 1 Painting and 10 Prints by Richard Estes, 2 Paintings, 2 Studies and 22 Drawings by Kerry James Marshall and Jean-Michel Basquiat– 0 Paintings, 2 Prints, 10 Drawings). A close look at what is installed in the Contemporary galleries on 2, which makes a point of being inclusive, strikes me as an attempt to rewrite MoMA’s perception in the face of criticism, and, some smoke and mirrors- how much will require more than 2 visits. In the meantime, go and make your own study.

Before the crowds. Parts of 4 galleries, Contemporary Art, 2nd floor. Member’s preview, October 19, 2019.

Tourism is a big deal for MoMA, the other NYC museums, and NYC. If the Art going public begins to perceive the reality that NYC is not the place to go see important Contemporary Art, one of the most popular periods of Art there is at the moment, this would be a disaster, especially after having just spent over 450 million dollars on MoMA, 2019. Smoke and mirrors might buy them some time, but whether they can overcome the self-inflicted damage they’ve already done remains to be seen. MoMA was incalculably helped to become THE Museum of Modern Art by a visionary curator, Alfred Barr, during its formative years. More recently, those in charge didn’t believe in the work of these Contemporary Artists at the time, didn’t have the vision and foresight Mr. Barr did, and so they missed the boat.

Mark Bradford, James Brown is Dead, 2007, Torn-and-pasted printed paper, 47 3/4 x 267 inches. I’ve made no secret of my admiration for Mr. Bradford, who I consider one of today’s most important Artists. In fairness, since I’ve mentioned some of the Artists omitted from their collection, MoMA owns 4 of Mr. Bradford’s larger works, 1 Sculpture, 1 Video and about 17 Multiples. So, I find it interesting they chose this work for display.

They, and their counterparts at the other NYC museums, may well have cost NYC it’s world leading status as THE Art capital of the world, we shall see. It’s too late now. Only mass, and massive, donations will help to close that gap now.

Though I am a paying member, I dreaded going to see the “new” MoMA, 2019. Such is the level of disdain I have for MoMA, 2006, which I consider to be the worst major museum building I’ve ever been in, it actually keeps me from going to see the Art! Maybe I’m just too used to MoMA, 2006 that MoMA, 2019 actually feels “not so bad.” Well Let’s see. MoMA, 2006 cost 858 million dollars according to The Times. I’ve seen 450 million as the cost of MoMA, 2019. That’s at least 1.3 BILLION dollars to make something I just said was “not so bad.”

Well, in 10 years, when MoMA decides that they “need more space,” which you know they will, I know where they can get 7,700 square feet of it, without tearing down anyone else’s building. Let’s say by then it will cost another 500 million to create MoMA, 2029. Then, they’ll have a chance at actually making the building “decent.”

Gee…Wait a minute. Between MoMA, 2006 and MoMa, 2019, they’ve spent 1.3 billion dollars? If they spent that on Art back when MoMA decided to build MoMA, 2006? You might actually have a collection of important Contemporary Art on the level with MoMA’s collection of Modern Art.

Instead? We got one of the biggest Architectural design mistake in NYC in my lifetime, right up there with not allowing the world’s greatest Architects, beginning with Frank Lloyd Wright, who’ve tried to build here a chance to build more than one building each. More? That the powers that be at MoMA thought putting a gigantic hole in the middle of the most expensive real estate on earth was a good idea, and then less than 10 years later tear down an actually good museum saying they “need more space” is plain hubris.

On second thought, maybe that hole does signify something about Manhattan after all. It signifies the hole in the collections of Contemporary Art at MoMA, and the other Big 4 NYC Museums. Smoke and mirrors aren’t going to be able to cloud that realization from many for very much longer.

“Be a happy man
I try the best I can
Or maybe I’m just looking for too much?”*

*-Soundtrack for this Post is “Hole In My Life” from Outlandos d’Amour by The Police, performed live in Paris in 1979, here-

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  1. In the same New York Magazine piece, the author, Alexandra Lange, concluded that MoMA, 2006, “…is a question, sublimely unanswered.” 13 years later, I’ve still got a few questions, which I ask in this piece. Living with them has been painful, not “sublime.”
  2. Yes, the Tate Modern in London did something a little similar, but dissimilar enough to make the difference, and they’ve continually found good uses for it since it opened around the same time as MoMA, 2006.
  3. Where did I get 7,700 square feet from as the size of this space? I’ve been unable to find out the official square footage of the atrium (interesting, no?). It hasn’t been published anywhere and those I asked at the museum didn’t know or wouldn’t tell me. So? I took it upon myself to calculate it. 110 feet is the published (known) height. I stepped off 35 paces from wall to wall and each of my paces is 24 inches. That’s 70 feet, and 7,700 square feet in total by my guesstimation.

Riffing On Miles Davis

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited)

Here we go, again. Or, to quote the late, great Eddie Jefferson in “Moody’s Mood for Love”- “Here I Go, Here I Go, Here I Go, Again…”

The film, Miles Ahead, gives me cause for concern. No, I haven’t seen it yet. I’m not sure I’m going to see it. Why? Probably for the same reasons I didn’t go to see the Steve Jobs movie. While I’m all for artistic freedom and creative license, as time goes on it seems that “docudramas” that purport to be “about” someone real tend to paint incomplete pictures of their subject. They “riff” on them. Whether they are “good” movies, or not, whether they do any justice to the truth of their subject, or not, the public comes to base their opinions of their subjects on these films. Sometimes, (like Lady Sings The Blues “about” Billie Holiday, which “incongruously transforms Holiday’s messy, bisexual, masochistic romantic history into a glossy romance about a troubled, needy woman-child and the endlessly patient dreamboat who could slow but never entirely halt her march toward self-destruction,” according to Nathan Rabin of The Onion AV Club), even worse, they may leave them feeling there’s no need for them to look past the film for themselves. (Both Billie Holiday and Miles Davis wrote Autobiographies.)

This is very sad.

I’m hoping the film, whatever it’s “about,” will inspire viewers to want to hear more of Miles’ music, ideally, all of it, and that will be the primary result of it.

Last time I checked, very few Artists or Musicians had been canonized as saints, though in my personal Church of Art, they’re revered to me. They’re human. They had flaws. Some did very bad things. Allegedly committed crimes, even murder. Some did drugs, and weren’t exactly nice or easy people to know. Miles Davis has been accused of doing some bad things. Does creating great timeless Art or Music that effects millions of people make that Ok? That’s not for me to say.

Larger Than Life. Miles in a 4 foot poster from Tutu. From my collection.

I do know this-

Miles Davis was probably the most influential Artist in my life. While I never met him, his signature and mine actually did wind up on the same piece of paper once, a few inches apart, and I was fortunate enough to see him perform about 40 times. That’s as close as I got to him. But, his music, especially his albums? They’ve been closer- they’ve been a part of me since I learned how to work a record player.

When his album Bitches Brew came out, only the latest in a string of game changing albums he released every few years, it was so controversial, it led to the break up of the band I was in at the time. At that point I was playing electric bass in a friend’s blues band, and listening to jazz. After Bitches Brew, an unprecedented mix of jazz, rock, funk, avant garde, and what came to be called “world music,” and the first-shot-over-the-bow that something very new and different was going to be happening hence forth, a lot of us realized it was possible to play electric instruments and play jazz. So, I started looking around for a band to do that with, eventually found one, and went on the road with them for five years. They were all far more accomplished musicians than I was. Miles was a legend, even back then, to all of them, too. He has been as long as I can remember.

It’s hard to think about the impact that every single one of Miles’ albums had at the time it came out, going back to the Birth of the Cool, which is exactly what it was, in the late 1940’s . It must’ve been like Picasso creating a new work to the artists of his time. Miles had the ability to move mountains with every new album. Musicians would listen to them and think about them vis a vis what they were doing. Miles was always Miles beyond. In fact, all of his albums from the late 60’s bore the moniker “Directions in Music by Miles Davis.” That said it all. With Bitches Brew, people began to argue that it “wasn’t jazz.” If you had followed the thread of his music through the 1960’s, you could hear where he was going and you could also hear the same thing that always defined Miles, more than anything else- His sound.

No one could play a melody like Miles. And then, no one else had his sound.

He started the 1960’s fresh off what is widely considered the greatest jazz record ever made- Kind of Blue  in 1959. His 1960 group, now referred to as his “First Great Quintet” included that other great master of post war jazz improvisation- the tenor saxophonist, John Coltrane. The two couldn’t be more different, and made perfect foils for each other. Miles was the inventor of space- what Artists call “negative shapes,” that is, what isn’t there- in music’s case, silence. Miles could say more with less than any Artist in Jazz history- even with one note. (Even when I heard him in a concert late in his career, racked will illness and apparently having trouble moving on stage, there would be that one moment, that one note that would sear the night and make your jaw drop. The silence that inevitably followed making it infinitely more poignant.) John Coltrane was on his way to developing what became his signature “sheets of sound” style, would solo after Miles and his voluminous brilliance would serve to frame Miles the way black velvet sets off a diamond. Of him, Miles famously once said, “I had 7 Tenor players once.” Coltrane left to form his own group, but somehow Miles managed to put together another great group- his, so-called “Second Great Quintet” with Wayne Shorter on Tenor, Herbie Hancock on Piano, Ron Carter on Bass and Drummer Tony Williams. As the sum of its parts, this band of Masters, was, for me, the pinnacle. To this day, I revere every note I have heard them play in the slightly over 2 years they were together as I do no other group I have heard. No group has taken the art form of the acoustic jazz quintet further.

Then, it changed, again. He went from the Second Great Quintet to an increasingly more electric sound. This was the mid-1960’s and rock and funk were influencing him. Herbie and Wayne remained for the first few albums, and then they, too, left and were replaced by people like Keyboardists Joe Zawinul, Keith Jarrett & Chick Corea, Guitarist John McLaughlin, Bassist Dave Holland, Drummer Jack DeJohnette, and many others, quite a number of whom went on to have had long and important careers.

Today, Miles’ influence is everywhere. His legacy lives on. While many of his side men, like Hancock, Shorter, Corea, Jarrett, Holland, Marcus Miller, Mike Stern, et al, are still among the biggest names in jazz, his legacy is being handed down to their side men, and on it goes. For me, a day doesn’t go by that I don’t hear a piece of his.

So? Why do I dread this movie?

Because unless you grew up with this, it’s really hard to capture on film. Jazz was (and still is) a very hard way to make a living- mostly in small clubs in an environment filled with drugs, alcohol, crime, trouble and little to no money for most. Yes, there was  scandal and a lot of controversy in Miles’s life. It’s very easy to make a drama out of it. I hope that’s not all it does. To do so, would be to miss the point.

From here, to eternity. My other 4 foot "Tutu" Poster. This one, the cover shot.

From here, to eternity. My other 4 foot Tutu Poster by Irving Penn. This one, the classic cover shot of “The Prince of Darkness.”

It would be to miss why Miles is an Artist for the ages.

While I don’t believe in comparing Artists qualitatively, I do think it can be illuminating to see similarities and differences between them. Miles is often called “the Picasso of Jazz,” and I can understand why- Their lives largely overlapped (Picasso- 1881-1973, Miles 1926-1991. Miles also painted.) They both refused to be pigeonholed, and changed styles as frequently as it suited them. They both continued to grow and evolve as Artists literally right up to the very end. When I think about Picasso and Miles Davis, I wonder if the total number of pieces Picasso created may be very similar to the total number of performances that Miles Davis gave, when you consider live and studio performances. Though Miles was infrequently in the studio during large portions of his career, he was active as a live performer. Whatever the total numbers might be, the two are similar in that they were both extraordinarily prolific.

Picasso was very aware of the history of art and what was going on in and around him, witness his long relationships with Matisse, Braque, among others, Miles immediately sought out, then played with Charlie “Bird” Parker, the greatest musician of his time, soon after arriving in NYC to study at Julliard, and, startling to many, the  young unknown, barely out of his teens, was asked by Bird to join his group. Interestingly, as time went on, Miles, in turn, nurtured the careers (to varying degrees) of the likes of John Coltrane, Wayne Shorter, Joe Zawinul and Herbie Hancock among many others. He was also very aware of what people like Jimi Hendrix and later, Prince, were doing, and played with both.

Along with Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong and a few others, his performances of standards define them.

Along with this, the kid from East St Louis, Illinois wound up sonically defining New York City. It’s impossible for me to listen to Kind of Blue, which may be the greatest improvisation in music history, without seeing a tone poem of New York City in my mind each time. (A live performance shortly after its recording, with John Coltrane-)

No one else I have ever heard, in any kind of music, has come closer to it. A couple of years ago the Village Voice  ran a list of the greatest New York City songs. Nothing from Kind of Blue, which was recorded on 30th Street in Manhattan, made the list. Someone is out of their mind. Kind of Blue celebrated its 50th anniversary in 2009. Get back to me on how some of the songs the Voice picked are doing in 50 years. The “cool” sound, style and attitude he created, and embodied, in the 1950’s became en vogue everywhere, nowhere more than right here.

Maybe one day I’ll see the film and feel my fears were for naught. Miles Davis made a unique and extremely valuable contribution to music, to American and World culture. Even though he didn’t die that long ago, this contribution is already in danger of beginning to be forgotten. This is not something to be taken lightly. His legacy is important- to me and countless others. I’m writing this to express how I feel about Miles (and “riff” about him the way the film may), and to say that I hope anyone interested in him hear as much of his music as you can1

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Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.

  1. Miles created a long legacy of recorded music, and changes styles of music more often than almost anyone else has. Kind of Blue, seems to be where most people start. After that, I’ve written an entire piece called “Directions In Listening By Miles Davis”Directions In Listening By Miles Davis” with some thoughts on what to check out next. He also wrote an Autobiography. Soget to know him through those and make your own mind up about him. If you want to know what’s really important about Miles, do yourself a favor- Go to the source- start with his music. It’s a font that will be inspiring millions for as long as music is played.

    Yes, Miles Davis was a complex man by all accounts. Like Steve Jobs, people will be trying to understand him and tell stories, even make films about him for many years to come. Both were, by all accounts, incredibly complex men. That alone makes it very hard to do them justice in a 2 hour film. Some love Miles, some loathe him, many found him scary, difficult or impossible to deal with. All I know is that Miles, the Artist, is one of the greatest Artists in music- that’s what’s important, and the rest is, now, details. If you go and see the film, keep this in mind and try and imagine the effect his music had at the time and how often it changed the musical world. That doesn’t happen often. How many Artists take those kinds of risks anymore? How many risk losing their audience? And how many do it over, and over, and over, and over, again? That’s a big part of his legacy that shouldn’t be forgotten, and one I hope will be emulated by those still being influenced by him, those who want to get to the heart of what’s really important, like this-

    Next time you listen to Miles, listen for that one note that says more than words ever can- it’s there in every one of his performances, and then listen for the silence.

    *Soundtrack for this post is “It Never Entered My Mind” as performed by Miles on “Cookin’ & Steamin’ with the Miles Davis Quintet” (there are other versions), a long time personal favorite. It was written by Richard Rogers & Lorenz Hart and published by Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

    POSTSCRIPT- June 20, 2020- I finally did see Miles Ahead. I found Don Cheadle’s performance to be amazing. It’s obvious to me how much care and passion he put into this film. Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter appear onstage during the final credits, which makes me believe they had some level of awareness of the film’s content, though I am not saying they gave their approval to it- I simply don’t know. Still, it strikes me as a dramatization, and as such, it’s fine as an ancillary source. I still say- go to the source (if you’re looking for a visual source, check out the new documentary film, Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool, which ran on PBS’ American Masters series in early 2020), get familiar with Miles’ accomplishment, and his own words, and then, if you’re looking to see his life interpreted dramatically, riffed on, by someone else, check out the film. If not, you are selling Miles, and yourself, short, if the film is all you know about him. It reminds me of the dramas being done on Picasso, that other endlessly creative 20th century Artist. That they keep Miles’ and Picasso’s name in front of the public is good, I guess, but if that’s as far as the public’s interest goes, and they don’t discover who these people REALLY were for themselves? They are left with distorted views, which is what I feared when I wrote the above in March of 2016, and this is not good, in my opinion.

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Picasso Sculpts The Next Dimension

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Written & Photographed by Kenn Sava (*- unless otherwise credited)

In the summer of 1980 I made 2 trips to New York specifically to see the Picasso Retrospective at Moma. Consisting of over 350 works (including the masterpiece “Guernica” in its farewell before being returned to Spain as Picasso requested in his will), it filled the entire building. I remember walking around the show in a daze. After the first floor, my brain had glossed over the way it does during mind-blowing sex. I staggered back out into the sunlight utterly overwhelmed…

Here it ALL was. ALL of what “Modern Art” was, and is. What else did you need to see?

Being a working musician at the time, I didn’t give any thought to what it must have been like to have been an artist seeing it. It must have felt like I did the first time I heard Jaco Pastorius a few years before. As a bassist, I almost threw my Rickenbacker 4001 electric bass into Miami’s Biscayne Bay that night (for real)- there was almost nothing left to play on the bass. I sold my Rick and started playing the upright bass, double bass or bass violin as it’s variously known. Can you imagine being an artist and seeing this show? You must have left it feeling like I did after hearing Jaco-

“Now what? What’s left to do that he didn’t do?”

I was reminded of all of this while attending another Picasso blockbuster show at Moma today, 35 years after that one- Picasso Sculpture.

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“Do not attempt to adjust the horizontal…the vertical…” or, your Absinthe Spoon.

Like many artists in all realms of the arts, and many “other” people (I’ll be there, too), Picasso may not be high on the list awaiting canonization as a saint. Yet, as an artist, his legacy is likely to astound and influence artists and art lovers alike for centuries to come. Had he “only” been a sculptor people would be talking about him being among the greatest, both in terms of his work and how many unique styles he invented or co-invented.

Hmmm…kinda like that Spanish painter. What’s his name? Oh yeah. Picasso.

It’s the name that stands like the gigantic monolith in “2001” in the middle of the road to the future of art, where everything that is or will be is built on the shoulders of what was.

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“Open the Pod Bay Doors, Pablo Ruiz.”

I feel for the artists of today, or tomorrow, who’s life and work lie along that road. What’s left? Indeed.

Even only viewing his work in one medium (if you can call it one)- sculpture, his achievement is almost beyond comparison. Amazingly, though his dad was an artist (a painter) AND an art teacher, Picasso had no training in sculpture. Perhaps this is why, after he found his footing in it, his work quickly achieved a freedom that had never been seen before. He had nothing to “unlearn.”

Then, he began his journey towards freeing his vision. That is what we see here.

Whether working in “traditional” materials (especially bronze- more on that in a moment), or using things that had never been used in sculpture before, what’s now called “found” materials, his endless creativity, often in this show in interpreting the human form, astounds. In spite of the fact that there may be more monographs on Picasso than any other artist of the 20th Century much of what’s on view was new to my eye. Unlike any art monograph yet published (Coco Rocha’s app “Study of Pose” possibly excepted), you can get a full 360 degree view by walking around almost all of the pieces on display on Moma’s 5th Floor. As much as anything else it is, sculpture is a 360 degree medium.

Scale makes no difference to the impact these works have, either. Some are a few inches tall, moquettes (models) for what became very large/monumental public sculptures, like the one in the Daley Center, Chicago. Thought startlingly tiny for those who have seen the monumental versions, they have a different effect, yet one that is every bit as compelling. They reminded me of the amazing show of Bernini’s original small clay models of many of his monumental masterpieces at TM a couple years ago. Like architects creating architectural models (and there happens to be an interesting show of them on the 2nd Floor in the drawings galleries), Picasso, also, proves to be a master of scale.

What would Michelangelo think?

The first thing Picasso changed was the definition of the word “sculpture.” Truth be told, a number of these pieces are not “sculpture,” in the traditional sense. Some are collages (an art form he co-invented), multi-media works, a few are constructions, plastic arts, and yes, some are traditional sculptures. But, as they are 3 dimensional works, they are being called sculpture under a broader than traditional definition.

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Click, to enter another dimension.

The second thing he changed was the materials that could be used (including every day things like gloves, sand, upholstery fringe, absinthe spoons, nails, tin plate, and wire – all by 1930).

Most compelling for me among the traditional materials were the bronzes Picasso made while living in Paris during the Nazi occupation. They constricted bronze to military use only, but Picasso brazenly managed to get enough of it to  continue to work in it during the occupation. He, and his collaborators, no doubt risked death making these works in, of course, a style of art the Nazis had already branded “degenerate.” For me, the examples displayed are among the highlights of the show. (Since my posts to this point have been about shows that have ended, or were about to, and this one recently opened and runs until February 7, 2016, I’m not posting pics of the work to allow you to see it for yourself, which you should. Photos are allowed, and I’ll probably post some later.)

But, of course, the changes Picasso made didn’t end there. His creativity knew no bounds, and no one “style” could hold him for long.

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Cubism, which he co-founded, the style of painting that plays with dimensional perception, in 2 dimensions, has to rely on different techniques as sculpture. This may be why this section of the show is more interesting than it is filled with his best work. In the case of the work on view, it’s more an appendage to the paintings.

As we move to the next chronological gallery, it seems that as Picasso moved ahead from Cubism, he moved past dimension to dismantling the human body in ways no one- not even the surrealists had considered. In these works, starting with his wire figures, a whole nother world suddenly opens.

It’s as if Picasso had finally achieved the goal he was after when he (Braque, Gris and Leger) started Cubism- to achieve an entirely new way of seeing that existed beyond the 3 dimensions he was “bending” with Cubism, one that existed only in the dimension of his imagination.

After this breakthrough, Picasso was finally free. He then proceeded to dip in and out of the styles he had created, or elements of them, as parts of the larger language he had compiled over all these years by the time of his oft misunderstood later works, and often in the service of depicting his current muse in ways that only he could see her.

And then? We could, too.

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Soundtrack for this post- “Kind Of Blue” by Miles Davis- the whole album, released in August, 1959. I’ve often called Miles “the Picasso of Jazz.” The similarities in their careers, personalities, bodies of work are fascinating and compelling.

NighthawkNYC.com has been entirely self-funded & ad-free for over 8 years, during which 300 full-length pieces have been published! If you’ve found it worthwhile, PLEASE donate to allow me to continue below. Thank you, Kenn.

You can also support it by buying Art, Art & Photography books, and Music from my collection! Art & Books may be found here. Music here and here.

Written & photographed by Kenn Sava for nighthawknyc.com unless otherwise credited. To send comments, thoughts, feedback or propositions click here. Click the white box on the upper right for the archives or to search them. Subscribe to be notified of new Posts below. Your information will be used for no other purpose.