MAD

Last Friday evening I visited the Museum of Arts and Design, or as they say-- "MAD"-- located on Columbus Circle at 59th Street on the Upper West Side. ( As an unrelated but interesting piece of trivia, all distances from NYC are officially measured from this point.)

The museum occupies a building erected in the mid-twentieth century by a wealthy heir named Huntington Hartford. The structure, designed in the "modernist" style by famous architect Edward Durell Stone, came to be regarded by many as ugly and dysfunctional. It lay vacant for years until major alterations were made. More recently, MAD moved in.

Last week was the first time I stepped inside this building, despite living in NYC most of my life and visiting many city museums over the years. What prompted my visit was an extensive article in the NYTimes that morning about the opening of an exhibit at MAD showing some of Doris Duke's famous collection of Islamic Art, which decorated her home in Hawaii. Also included were video, photos, and architectural plans for the estate. As you may know, she was the heiress to a huge tobacco fortune and considered the richest woman in the world.

The exhibit was beautiful. Everyone--not just one-thousandth of 1%-- should live as she did on something like her five landscaped acres in a custom-built mansion facing the Pacific Ocean outside Honolulu; the world would be a better place for it. Her Islamic treasures were museum quality, and the entire compound exuded refined taste and elegance. The show, entitled "Doris Duke's Shangri La", will continue until February 2013.

The remainder of this blog expresses my surprises. First, one might think that a large and highly complimentary review in Friday's Arts Section would create a big turnout to see the show. On the contrary, I was nearly alone at the exhibition! Another surprise is how small this museum is. I am sure there are plenty of private residences in Manhattan that exceed the square footage of each floor by a lot. Another surprise was going up to the top floor, where a restaurant named Robert (!!) is located. After being practically alone downstairs, I encountered a fancy restaurant with prices to match and a breath-taking view of Central Park, filled with diners out for an elegant and romantic dinner. The final surprise was two lower floors devoted to art made by the undoubtedly very poor Northwest Native Americans.

Great juxtapositions in this building at every turn. It's MAD.