I returned to NYC after a summer of working upstate, a summer that ended in heartbreak, and ran straight into the arms of another man…
My gay boyfriend! Oh how I missed him. Nothing like your GBF to remind you how fabulous you are and that not all men suck.
A Sunday date night with the GBF exploring the Lower East Side. Yesterday was the second annual LES Opening Night. Manhattan’s trendiest neighborhood built the buzz with a block party, gallery openings, and a fashion show. We spent the glorious, sunny evening strolling around boutiques, sipping wine, and commenting on art.
Mayson Gallery exhibited a colorful collection from many different artists. All humanistic, some humorously and others painfully personal. A lovely space on Broome Street. This gallery won the “If I was actually in a place in life to buy art, I would purchase it from here” prize.
Castle Fitzjohns Gallery featured bold and whimsical art pieces. Artist Sam Tufnell’s sculptures of plastic and resin, like these three little gnomes, were a highlight. Many different mediums here and artists from emerging to world renown. On our way out GBF and I realized that we’d been so taken by the gnomes we’d completely missed two original Warhols on the opposite wall!
This being fashion week, a runway was constructed in the middle of the blocked-off street. We were treated to a fashion show featuring the designs from boutiques in the area.
Pale in comparison to the tents of Lincoln Center, but fun none the less.
Everyone was snapping pictures and there was a great community feeling with everyone crowding on the street. This fashion front row was a hot seat on the asphalt. The models were fairly normal people, my guess is connected to the local stores in some way.
My favorite gallery opening was at BOSI Contemporary. Unlike the other galleries, this showing was dedicated entirely to one artist, André Feliciano. Installations, photographs, and sculptures all complemented each other seamlessly throughout the space. Feliciano celebrates the camera, the medium, the history, the journey from past to present.
What looks like a flower blossom is really a tiny camera. A flower bed of hundreds of tiny cameras all begging the viewer to capture the likeness in a photograph.
When we had our fill of art and the crowds were starting to frustrate us, the GBF and I went to fill our stomachs. We hoped to find the block on the outskirts of Chinatown that features many Vietnamese establishments. Amazingly, we happened upon it without even trying. Our feast of summer rolls, peanut sauce, and shrimp vermicelli was the perfect final act to a stellar evening.
Gay men, art, fashion, white wine, and Asian cuisine; who could ask for anything more?