In today’s NY Times, “Anyone who liked swings as a child — and that should include quite a few of us — will probably feel a surprisingly visceral attraction to Ann Hamilton’s installation “the event of a thread” at the Park Avenue Armory.” The installation is open until Jan. 5th. If you’re in New York, go there. Don’t plan on any great revelation about art, creativity or the world at large. Just ride a swing for an hour.
It’s odd having giant swings in a coliseum-like building that are connected to a large opaque curtain and other swings across the way. I suppose the “event of a thread” is intended to remind us of the connections between us regardless of whether we’re near or far. I’m sure there’s a deeper meaning here. After all, the exhibit also includes homing pigeons caged and ready to fly about, dozens of radios in paper bags scattered around, two readers of poems at either end of the room and an operatic singer who comes out onto a balcony every hour to sing something incomprehensible.
Who knows what it all means? The artist, probably, artsy types, perhaps. But it doesn’t really matter. The scene in the middle of the city is surreal and riding a swing is as freeing as being out on a sailboat or skiing down a mountain. The objective as kids was always to swing as high as possible or get a friend to push you higher and while making that you’re goal, you tune out all the stress of the day, all the unimportant emails, tweets, blog posts and phone calls and just focus on getting that swing to go higher and higher.
Some people stand on the sides seeming to wonder if they should drop all pretense and try the swings. Others sit tentatively, moving slowly at first before gaining the courage or losing their self-awareness to move their swing faster. It’s a great way to observe human behavior when presented with something unexpected. And then there are those of us who jump right on and want to get themselves airborne. That’s me, and it was great to feel free as a bird, however, short it lasted.