sunday at the met.

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After a restorative lunch of soup dumplings at Nan Xiang in Flushing on Sunday afternoon, we headed back into the city and ducked into the Met for a couple of hours to see their new Islamic Art wing.  An interesting space, filled to the gills with incredible art and archaelogical finds.  (Bonus: I’d forgotten that, with the exception of a few galleries, non-flash photography is permitted at the Met, so the Hasselblad and I shot away; it was most unfortunate, however, that the lab did some wonky things on the processing end, to give everything a dull, streaky gloss — which thankfully you can only really see on the images taken in the darker gallery spaces.  But still — argh!)

Also, when did this start, this phenomenon of not taking photographs of the art, but of oneself next to said artwork?  In addition to the digital camera aficionados wandering around the galleries taking snaps of their favorite pieces, I noticed quite a few people getting their pictures taken alongside the art itself, posing ever so suggestively.  Most curious.

The Met being the Met — ie, we couldn’t handle more than one wing in an afternoon — we headed downtown in the fading weekend light to find some hot beverages to warm us up.  On 32nd street, I trailed a man with a most excellent fur hat for the better part of the block, trying desperately to get the camera in focus.  No luck.  (It is not easy to get a behemoth to focus while walking down the street and trying not to run into anyone!)  But still, I managed to snap a photograph of what I was told was, from a third party perspective, a pretty hilarious mise en scene.

It was a particularly lovely Sunday, as far as Sundays go.
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