Turning Japanese I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so

Hands down, one of the busiest weeks in New York for me yet.

Monday, George and I saw Lou Reed at the launch of the Highline Ballroom. Rushing to arrive promty at 7pm paid off, and we were able to snag a spot right near the stage. I was surprised to discover that Lou is a real character. "Larry, pay attention to my hand signals and turn up the fucking vocals" is not a line in a song, but he threw it in there anyways. And although he had prompters with the the words on them (give him a break, he's getting pretty old) it was an incredible show. To be so close to such a music icon, well, you could just feel the energy.









The next night, it was over to the the Chelsea Art Musuem where I've been working on promoting an exhibition of photographs by the talented Japanese artist Miwa Yanagi. Every piece in the show is from the incredible Deutsche Bank Collection, which is committed to supporting emerging artists, and in North America, focused on works on paper. Yanagi's photographs are breathtaking, and speak to the roles of women in Japanese society while commenting on the misguided notions of beauty, power and desire. I am extremely proud to be publicizing this show, which is already getting attention from Art Actuel, French Photo and (fingers crossed) the New York Times.





On Thursday, it was time for the opening of Mr. (just Mr.) at Lehmann Maupin Gallery. Mr. is a protege of Takashi Murakami, and there's been a lot of buzz surrounding his first show in New York. I'm not a huge fan of the paintings, but the sculptures are really fantastic, and the giant head pictured here actually doubles as a room, complete with a small bed and girlie toys scattered on the floor. I missed the performance piece to head off to the Andreas Gursky show at Matthew Marks and the Glenn Brown show at Gagosian (where I met Larry for the first time).





Openings in Chelsea were followed by the Mr. afterparty at Park. Murakami (pictured with me and George here) let loose with some moves on the dance floor, while Mr. mugged for the press. Two hours into the party Patrick McMullan showed up, and he and I had a chance to talk about some of his upcoming projects, including a book about glamour that will be released in the fall. Everybody loves it when Patrick arrives, he kind of makes a party official. By the end of the night he had invited George and I to a party he hosts on Mondays. I think we might try to go - depending on how much sleep I get this weekend........