HEARD In Grand Central Station
As I resume my monthly pilgrimage to New York, the first thing I wanted to do this time around is see Nick Cave's HEARD.NY sculpture/performance art installation at Grand Central Station. I got to New York Saturday morning and went directly to Grand Central Station (my regular mode of transportation leaves me in Chinatown), since the performance was schedule to start shortly. For some reason lugging my suitcase around didn't seem like a bad idea, since I was going to a place where many people carried around luggage. Unfortunately when I arrived at Grand Central Station, it was mobbed with people, and the concourse where the performance was held was cordoned off. So I decide to come back the next day, very early, to secure my spot.
I arrive at Grand Central Station a little after 9am, and it was empty, except for the occasional passerby and the security guards. This was fine with me, because my anxiety quickly subsided, and I could take pictures without people in the background.
I found my way to some benches, and sat for an hour, but was kicked out by security because that space was reserved for children. I instantly thought of my niece, who I could use as to get a better view would enjoy the performance in such a prime location. And then I thought, Once again I was robbed of a childhood experience for being born at the wrong time. But that didn't stop me from going back to my "go-to" age in my head (8 years old), and enjoy the magical moment that I knew was coming, and which I anticipated with excitement.
I created this story in my head about how these magical horses lived in Grand Central Station, were asleep most of the day, except for two times a day, when the all simultaneously awakened. I imagined how they would roam the city, and how everyone would stop for them, give them passage, as they are so special that they captivated the hearts of everyone.
The moment comes when they awaken, and roam.
My camera started capturing these snow-like particles. Some might think it was dust particles reflecting off the light. I say it's horse magic.
Then, the front and rear segments disengage, for a vibrant display of dance.
The segments rejoin, and return to their playful gaits and trots, and ultimately to their state of slumber. I'm sure I'm not the only one there who wanted to bring one of these beautiful creatures home with me.
