It was a hot summer’s night. The temperature here in London had soared into the 30’s during the waking hours, bringing with it a dense heat usually only found on the continent.
It’s my last night in NYC and I’m exhausted. Pathetic I know. But the idea of taking the A train downtown is the last thing I feel like doing after a full on day walking. But there’s one more thing I want to do. I set off slightly unenthused but I have to get to The Whitney Museum of American Art. I’ve been told that it’s the place to go since its move to the trendy Meat Packing District and I know I’ll only be cross with myself come tomorrow if I don’t make it. Despite its promise however, I’m having mixed feelings following my jaunt to MOMA yesterday which I found to be decidedly underwhelming. This coupled with my tiredness and I’m somewhat grumpy as I trudge to Chelsea early evening. Continue reading “An art buyer, a film director and an unemployed tourist go to the Whitney…”