Back at the Met!

 The Metropolitan Museum of Art started allowing visitors again a couple weeks ago. I decided to wait a few days to visit. I wanted to allow ample time for them to get their shit straightened out. 

By the time we got there, it was all good in the 'hood. I was impressed. The whole checkpoint charlie took 2 minutes. It may have actually been faster than pre-COVID because there were so few people around with the zero tourist situation and the timed tickets and all. Tom and I ended up dawdling by the naked Greek sculptures waiting for Bente and Charlie to turn up. We were way early because we'd planned for a far more elaborate on-arrival time suck.

The tea pots were so cute. Plus the "shopkins" from the 17th century. I loved them when I saw them in March in the new British galleries and yup, they're still there, right where I'd last seen 'em!

Getting up on the roof involved a line longer than the line to get in the joint to begin with. But the site-specific installation was worth checking out. Very political, from what I inferred but didn't bother to read anything about. You could see the cityscape through the holes in the terra cotta. 

Honestly, I go to the roof deck for the view. And the cocktails. Ever since I saw the Roxy Paine metal sculpture up there years ago, I'm ruined. The artistic bar has been set too high. 

Unfortunately, due to the 'rona, there's no cocktails up on the roofdeck. Unless you BYOB, discreetly. Which we did not. 

So we poked around the wall and watched a few instagrammers posing in their sexy museum outfits get yelled at for stripping off their masks. But I'm sure surviving the museum guard talking-to was worth it for them. All of their followers will now get to see their pouty lips from the good side.