The New New.. New

After imbibing a pricey and strange lavendar martini at Five Points Restaurant* in Noho, A. and I traipsed in the cold to the opening ("Bowery Bash") party to celebrate the new New Museum of Contemporary Art. The crowd (decidedly downtown and upwardly striving) was a sea of rectangular designer glasses and women in variegated plumage, mostly in tones of black.

Everyone peered at each other's faces to see if the other was famous. Many were.. most were not. After milling about wondering where the art was, we found the elevator to the art. I can say now that, for me, the elevator (enormous and apple-green vibrant) was the best part of all of it.

The art? Hm, well, I'm no critic but I'm quite sure my cat created some of it, possibly in the throes of, well, throwing up. I did appreciate the gagglemess of chairs seen here.

I wish it well. The building, plopped onto the reluctantly gentrifying Bowery, is interesting in a "I'm obviously not from here, but am trying my best to fit in" way. I also wish Lisa Phillips, the director (with whom I worked briefly a long time ago at the Whitney -- she was a curator; I was a temp) all the best.

*Crappy website but a nice restaurant; try the truffle-infused wood oven pizzette with Sonoma teleme cheese. La di da.