I haven't bothered to go since the Matthew Barney spectacle in 2003, which (like Iron Man, or some other big cheesy summer blockbuster) I couldn't resist.
This show pitched a woo that I could not resist. The juxtaposition of Bourgeois' supercharged objects against the gentle, curved Frank Lloyd Wright interiors is a brilliant success. There is a tension, a conversation between them. The work looks natural in the space, instead of forced or flailing, as so much has before. While the Guggenheim's winding walkway lends itself to retrospective, it is perhaps the most difficult exhibition space in the world, and I think it's met its match.
I liked the new-ish cells very much, and I think Louise Bourgeois has found her inner Bower bird, as have I of late.
my studio yesterday (Blue Luxury, in Progress)
my studio, last week (Red Luxury, in Progress)