Today was Sunday, and if you’re looking for excitement, look no further than Basel on a Sunday. (“You’re a fine one to talk,” says Debbie, reading over my shoulder as she sits and knits in the Nissen’s living room this evening. “You who never leave the house.”) Nevertheless we made an excursion with Timmy in the lead, driving us first through a factory area to what looked at first like a windowless public storage facility or one of those bunkered inner city elementary schools. But on turning the corner it turned out to be something called the Schaulager Kunst Museum where we saw some kunst by Robert Grober of Wallingford, Connecticut, whose fascination with urinals, playpens, amputees and leaky water faucets made for a disturbing and sometimes annoying and sometimes engaging exhibit in what was one of the best exhibit spaces I’ve seen. The building is mostly devoted to storage space for various artworks, but the first two floors consist of lovely open spaces devoted to once-a-year exhibits of select works, and setting up the exhibit Grober must have thought he had died and gone to heaven, as opposed to Wallingford.
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Robert Grober
. 
Today was Sunday, and if you’re looking for excitement, look no further than Basel on a Sunday. (“You’re a fine one to talk,” says Debbie, reading over my shoulder as she sits and knits in the Nissen’s living room this evening. “You who never leave the house.”) Nevertheless we made an excursion with Timmy in the lead, driving us first through a factory area to what looked at first like a windowless public storage facility or one of those bunkered inner city elementary schools. But on turning the corner it turned out to be something called the Schaulager Kunst Museum where we saw some kunst by Robert Grober of Wallingford, Connecticut, whose fascination with urinals, playpens, amputees and leaky water faucets made for a disturbing and sometimes annoying and sometimes engaging exhibit in what was one of the best exhibit spaces I’ve seen. The building is mostly devoted to storage space for various artworks, but the first two floors consist of lovely open spaces devoted to once-a-year exhibits of select works, and setting up the exhibit Grober must have thought he had died and gone to heaven, as opposed to Wallingford.
Today was Sunday, and if you’re looking for excitement, look no further than Basel on a Sunday. (“You’re a fine one to talk,” says Debbie, reading over my shoulder as she sits and knits in the Nissen’s living room this evening. “You who never leave the house.”) Nevertheless we made an excursion with Timmy in the lead, driving us first through a factory area to what looked at first like a windowless public storage facility or one of those bunkered inner city elementary schools. But on turning the corner it turned out to be something called the Schaulager Kunst Museum where we saw some kunst by Robert Grober of Wallingford, Connecticut, whose fascination with urinals, playpens, amputees and leaky water faucets made for a disturbing and sometimes annoying and sometimes engaging exhibit in what was one of the best exhibit spaces I’ve seen. The building is mostly devoted to storage space for various artworks, but the first two floors consist of lovely open spaces devoted to once-a-year exhibits of select works, and setting up the exhibit Grober must have thought he had died and gone to heaven, as opposed to Wallingford.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
(this is your daughter) - ahh, sunday in basel sounds perfect. glad you're making excursions - love you!
Post a Comment