We went to the Institute of Contemporary Art (ICA) in Boston last Saturday on a whim. An exhibit of art from the 1980s is leaving soon and we'd seen inviting posters around town. The exhibit itself was mostly disappointing, though it left some impressions. It was the time of the AIDS crisis and of Reagan, both inciting artists. There were a few Mapplethorpes, a Basquiat, Koons' inflatable Rabbit. And a lot of what some friends and I who used to often see modern art together referred to as WAS.* As always at the ICA, the building and its surroundings were the most satisfying visually. The gallery overlooking the harbor offered its usual reflections and the waterfront, even on a mild winter's day, was enticing.
From the gallery windows, we watched the unusual sight of a sailing regatta coming in on the harbor in February. The Boston Sailing Center's Frostbite Racing series keeps its hardy sailors sharp over the winter season.
I kept finding the orange floating lines in the harbor outside the ICA intriguing. It took some searching online to find out that they're silt curtains, also called turbidity curtains, used to prevent the spread of silt and sediment near the shoreline. I imagine the one at the ICA is there to help keep a certain depth to the area, which has been used the past two summers for diving championships off the roof.
Perhaps I need a turbidity curtain for my life. Work in particular has been marked by haziness so far this year, muddy with lots of unsettled sediment. But perhaps things are beginning to settle out, at least for the short term. A couple of freelance projects are surfacing. Other possibilities have receded into the murk. An unexpected trip to sunnier climes with friends is also stirring in the mix, bright as the floating curtain. Will report once we've booked, unless I get superstitious.