Friday, Dec. 17, 2010

Today's artists 'paint' a new vision of 2-d art

By C.B. LIDDELL

Special to The Japan Times

The term "Primary Field" can either mean a group of aspirant candidates (in the United States) or an idea from physics that most laymen will find hard to understand; so the title of the "Primary Field II" exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art Hayama is surprisingly apt. Like many group shows of contemporary art, it gathers together a selection of artists who still have the weight of unfulfilled expectation on their shoulders, and whose art is likely to leave some members of the public scratching their heads.

Exploring new artistic terrain: "Joudo 2" (2007) by Mana KonishiDEPOSITED TO SHIZUOKA PREFECTURAL MUSEUM OF ART

The first Primary Field in 2007 focused entirely on sculpture. This time, the selection redresses the karmic imbalance in media by focusing entirely on 2-D art ("paintings," as we shall see, doesn't quite cover it). This progression raises the possibility that the next PF will swing toward yet another media — perhaps video or conceptual art.

But, what about this PF? For a contemporary art exhibition to focus on 2-D art is a path fraught with dangers and challenges. Two-dimensional art is intrinsically the least radical and "transgressive" medium of artistic expression. For better or worse, but probably the latter, contemporary art has — excuse the pun — painted itself into a corner of always challenging every norm and shaking each shibboleth; and this, it seems, is harder to do within the confines of a simple flat plane.

Despite the limitations of the medium, "Primary Field II" works hard to maintain its "contempo" credentials. First of all, it is clear that the seven selected artists have been chosen mainly for the way their diverse approaches explore the full range of possibilities of 2-D art. Luckily, this does not mean a total absence of merit, as the beautiful landscapes of Mana Konishi are an untrammeled joy. But her work is good because it is so traditional and conventional, rather than, as the artist takes pains to assert, because her work cuts images from their contexts to create worlds that are both "familiar and unfamiliar." This kind of edgy spin is merely the kind of tactic that conventional painters have to dig up to be included in shows like this, and is not to be taken seriously.

The realist paintings of Konishi and Mitsuko Miwa, who obviously like furniture, and the more abstract but still recognizably figurative works of Yasue Kodama and Nobuyuki Takahashi provide a middle ground to the exhibition that allows visitors to approach the remaining three, more radical, artists without too much of a jolt.

For example, Kodama's more ambiguous nature paintings are within touching distance of the purer abstraction of Tsuyoshi Higashiyama's. This is partly because Higashiyama's abstraction maintains an organic feel.

There are also affinities between Takahashi's figurative reductionism and the thread art of Zon Ito. The latter's inclusion is an obvious attempt to challenge conventional boundaries, as this "painter" sews to create lines onto his canvases. Both artists deal in figurative minimalism, but while this is largely forced on Ito by his preferred means of expression, Takahashi's simplification is a conscious artistic choice. As a consequence, Takahashi's works have an invigorating sense of how our minds embrace images, and how the artist "destroys" what he sees in order to re-create it on canvas. Ito's works, by contrast, sometimes seem like the meanderings of an insect.

Simple pleasure: "A Hot Spring Bath (Red)" by Nobuyuki Takahashi (2008) BASE GALLERY, TOKYO

The remaining artist at the exhibition is Takeshi Hosaka. He creates simple frame-and-box art decorated with stripes; rather like cubic humbug candies. The only reason I can think of why these uninteresting works are included is because they cross the border into 3-D art, and so tick the all-important curatorial box of challenging "conventional boundaries" again. This, if I may say so, has become its own kind of convention.

From a curatorial point of view, this is undoubtedly a well-designed exhibition. It sets out to show the full amplitude of 2-D art and does so admirably. But, the successful curator, it has to be remembered, is often the natural enemy of the simple art lover.

"Primary Field II" at The Museum of Modern Art, Kamakura & Hayama runs till Jan. 23; open 9:30 a.m.-5 p.m., closed Mon. and Dec. 29-Jan. 3. For more information visit, www.moma.pref.kanagawa.jp

Friday, Dec. 31, 2010

Japanese art has come a long way: a curator's top five 2010 exhibitions

As festivals took art out of the 'white cube,' galleries also began thinking outside the box

By SHINYA WATANABE

Special to The Japan Times

This year's art scene was largely dominated by two new major events, the Aichi Triennale and the Setouchi International Art Festival, both of which not only utilized gallery space, but showed a large number of works outside of the "white cube." They indicated a trend in Japan of art tourism merging with the stimulation of local economies, something that in today's economic climate, appears to have proved successful.

Meanwhile, under some pressure from the growing influence of neighboring countries, such as China and Korea, Japanese art professionals — not only artists but also exhibition and event organizers — are coming up with innovative forms of expression in the search for new forms of art. There were plenty of wonderful art exhibitions organized by museums and commercial galleries exploring this. Here are my top five, each of which I believe is of significance in Japanese contemporary art.

"Yasumasa Morimura: A Requiem — Art on Top of The Battlefield"
Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography (March 11-May 9). Now showing at the Hiroshima City Museum of Contemporary Art till Jan. 10.

Tales of the unexpected: "A Requiem: Unexpected Visitors / 1945, Japan" (2010) from "A Requiem: Art on top of a Battlefield" by Yasumasa Morimura © YASUMASA MORIMURA, COURTESY OF SHUGO ARTS

Known for his self portraits in which he transformed himself into famous Hollywood actresses, Yasumasa Morimura surprised his fans this year by turning himself into several men for this "Requiem" series of images.

For Morimura, the 20th century was a time of war and an age of "the man." He chose to portray historical figures ranging from Western modern art masters, such as Pablo Picasso and Andy Warhol, to heroes of the third world, such as Mahatma Gandhi and Che Guevara. Japanese cultural icons were also included, such as manga author Osamu Tezuka and writer Yukio Mishima.

All were impressive portrayals; however, his most challenging piece has to be "A Requiem: Unexpected Visitors / 1945, Japan."

Born in 1951, the year that marked the end of the Allied Occupation, Morimura considers himself to be the offspring of the United States and Japan. For this image, he staged a wedding-like photo with General Douglas MacArthur of the United States as his father and Emperor Hirohito of Japan as his mother — both photographed at his real parents' green-tea merchant house in Osaka. Emperor Hirohito and his actions during World War II continues to be an extremely sensitive subject in Japan, yet here Morimura tackles the Imperial family without raising any tension among Japanese right wingers.

His new video "Gift of Sea: Raising a Flag on the Summit of the Battlefield," based on Shigeru Aoki's painting "Umi-no-sachi" ("Gifts of Sea," 1904), reinterprets Joe Rosenthal's iconic photo of soldiers raising the American flag on Iwo Jima in 1945. By making this a self-portrait, Morimura effectively narrates and questions transitions of the 20th century from both a 20th-century world-historical point of view as well as on a personal level.

"Isson Tanaka: The New Total Picture"
Chiba City Museum of Art (Aug. 21- Sept. 26)

Born in 1908 in Tochigi Prefecture, nihonga (Japanese-style painting) artist Isson Tanaka found little opportunity to show his work, especially after he moved to southern Amami Island at age 50. When he passed away in 1977, he was still completely unknown. It was not until a TV program in the 1980s showed his work and described him as a "Japanese Paul Gauguin" that Tanaka started to garner public attention.

This exhibition, the largest ever of Tanaka's works, was indeed the "total picture." It covered unknown works, including early paintings created during his childhood, others painted when he lived in Chiba Prefecture and later works he completed on Amami Island. Tanaka's compositions are daring for nihonga — like huge wide-angle lens photographs — with pine trees and tropical foliage set against backgrounds of southern blue skies and wide oceans.

All the art works — from his early classically influenced and calligraphic pieces, to his later, bolder works — were displayed to create a narrative context about Tanaka, giving the exhibition profound historical significance. It's no wonder it turned out to be a blockbuster of a show, where even the exhibition catalog sold out.

The curator of this grand exhibition, really should be applauded for introducing this talented and previously unknown artist in such a comprehensive and impressive manner.

"Shadows: Works from the National Museums of Art"
The National Art Center, Tokyo (Sept. 8-Oct. 18)

A collaboration of five national museums in Japan, this massive exhibition brought together a wide variety of mediums under the theme of "Shadows." One hundred and seventy works were selected from more than 33,300 artworks housed in the five museums.

Not only was this a rare opportunity to enjoy such a wide selection of fine quality of work in a single location, but the cross- genre artworks also allowed viewers to compare and contrast Western and Japanese painting, Japanese and foreign photography, and crafts and design.

Being able to see works by the likes of painter Gustave Courbet alongside Japanese near contemporaries such as Ryusei Kishida was fascinating. And after understanding the historical contexts and transitions of how modern artists approached shadows, contemporary expressions — such as Jiro Takamatsu's "shadow painting" and Krzysztof Wodiczko's metaphoric use of shadows in video art — became more accessible to the viewer. Particularly powerful were the substantial number of photographs from acclaimed artists such as Alfred Stieglitz, Robert Frank, Seiichi Furuya and Daido Moriyama.

"Genpei Akasegawa: Harvest from a Walk"
Yokohama Civic Art Gallery Azamino (Oct. 22-Nov. 7)

Local humor: "Jurassic Washbowl" (2008) by Genpei Asagawa. COURTESY OF THE YOKOHAMA CIVIC ART GALLERY AZAMINO

Born in 1937, the avant-garde artist Genpei Akasegawa is perhaps best known for the 1960s "Thousand-yen bill incident," when he was indicted for counterfeiting ¥1,000 notes to make invites to one of his shows. Since then, he has matured greatly. This exhibition displayed photographs taken by the artist during walks he took in his neighborhood in the last four years.

Since the '70s, Akasegawa has been taking photos of ordinary objects that look like conceptual artworks — a fun concept that became known as "Hyper-Art Thomasson." Also an Akutagawa Prize-winning author with a way with words, Akasegawa liked to give humorous titles to his unusual photos of ordinary objects. He titled a photo capturing the very tip of the Diet Building directly behind major construction work "Enlarging the Diet Building"; while an image of a trash bag with "nonflammable" printed on one side is titled "The House of Classification." The show celebrated a joyful freedom of photography, illustrating Akasegawa's talent for capturing transient moments of our everyday lives just before the art of them escapes us.

"Fumito Urabe: A Silent Wasteland"
Gallery Side 2 (Nov. 5-Dec. 4)

Loaded with ideas: "My Vehicle (Daughter)" (2010) by Fumito Urabe. COURTESY OF THE ARTIST AND GALLERY SIDE 2

"A Silent Wasteland" was the debut solo exhibition of Fumito Urabe, a 26-year-old Aichi-based artist who, unusually, also trained to become a Buddhist priest.

Right at the entrance of the exhibition space, miniature farming tools made of decayed wood and metal were unassumingly hung on the wall. On another wall, small paintings on tin plates, which compositionally use unpainted spaces in a similar way to Cezanne, give us a lyrical impression. The allegorical "My Vehicle (Daughter)" — a red tinplate miniature car, displayed on a pedestal and loaded with small boxes containing stones, wood and seeds — is a poignant piece that beautifully leaves its interpretation to the viewer's imagination.

Urabe draws much inspiration from kuu (vanity or a lack of substance), a Buddhist concept that is quite different from Western philosophy. In Buddhism, dependent origination (the law of conditionality) teaches that no single thing can exist independently of others, and therefore kuu goes beyond identity to become a spiritual awakening. Urabe subtly portrays this traditional Buddhist concept in all his contemporary art works, creating unique pieces that are sure to make this up-and-coming artist someone to look out for in the future.

Shinya Watanabe is an independent curator based in Tokyo and New York. He has Masters in Art from New York University and curates contemporary art exhibitions, mainly focusing on the relationship between art and the nation-state.

Friday, Jan. 7, 2011

The Blue Rider years: "Impressionism III, Concert" (1911) by Wassily Kandinksy COURTESY OF THE LENBACHHAUS, MUNICH AND MITSUBISHI ICHIGOKAN MUSEUM

The Kandinsky narcissistic blues

Abstract Expressionism born from the imagination and self-absorption of a master

By C.B. LIDDELL

Special to The Japan Times

Anyone who has seen the unrefined figurative works of Mark Rothko can easily understand why he later turned to his abstract Color Field works. Because of examples like this, there is always a suspicion that abstract art is merely the last refuge of the technically inept. Wassily Kandinsky — often seen as the first true abstract artist — however, proves this to be a misconception.

From the imagination: "The Bride" (1903) by Wassily KandinskyCOURTESY OF THE LENBACHHAUS, MUNICH AND MITSUBISHI ICHIGOKAN MUSEUM

With 60 paintings from Munich's Lenbachhaus museum, half by Kandinsky and most of the rest by associates from the Blue Rider group, "Kandinsky and the Blue Rider" at the Mitsubishi Ichigokan Museum looks at the artist's early career. In the process, it reveals that he was a fast learner, an excellent figurative artist and probably just a little too wrapped up in himself.

But why did this talented artist take the abstract route? The answer seems to lie partly in his character. In the show's first section "1901-1907: A Time of Phalanx, a Time of Travel," a picture of a ruthless, strong-willed individual who often disregarded the society around him, starts to emerge.

One of the most interesting facts about Kandinsky is that he came to painting rather late in life, but then made remarkably quick progress. In 1896, at age 30, he decided to turn his back on a successful academic career, leave his wife behind in Russia and settle in Munich, Germany, to study art. If this had occurred a few years later in his life, it might have been described as a mid-life crisis.

In Munich, the confidence and high-powered intellect that he brought from his former occupation saw him quickly make the transition from art student to leader. In 1901 he helped found Phalanx, a group of artists with an anti-conservative bent, and although he was only five years into his own career, he also became the artistic director of the group's school.

Kandinsky's paintings from this period seem to fall into two types. On the one hand there are heavy re-workings of plein-air impressionism that don't really satisfy, such as "Kochel — Lake with Boat" (1902). In these works, there is a feeling of painting by numbers, of paying too much attention to the sights around him and doing what was expected by others. In sharp contrast to this, he also painted purely imaginary works such as "The Bride" (1903) that evoked a subjective, romanticized, mythical Russia.

The difference between these two artistic strains seems to suggest that Kandinsky was at his best when he turned from the outer muse to the inner one, from society and reality to imagination and idiosyncrasy.

This tension between the individual and the wider world was also echoed in his private life. Around this time he started an extramarital affair with one of his students, Gabriele Munter. You can see her in "Kallmunz — Gabriele Munter Painting II" (1903) and in the sensitive "Portrait of Gabriele Munter" (1905). Conforming to the moral dictates of the time, Munter wished to hold back their relationship until Kandinsky could divorce his wife. This, however, led him to constantly pressure her — until she gave in. Kandinsky's internal drives were more important than external moral censure.

To be together more easily, the couple took to traveling around Europe, as shown by several of the works on display. A cheaper way to escape the tut-tutting of Munich society was discovered in the picturesque village of Murnau, South of Munich, where they could stay together easily, often with other artist friends.

The second part of the exhibition focuses on this period, from 1908 to 1910, and the art that was created in Murnau. These are among Kandinsky's best paintings. The lyrical sense that he had previously shown in his purely imaginative works is combined with a keen appreciation of his surroundings in works such as "Railroad at Murnau" (1909). This shows a steam train against a sunny Alpine background, capturing both the visual drama and the psychological impact that the sight must have had on the painter — a fruitful melding of his inner and outer muses.

In narratives of Kandinsky, the sojourn at Murnau is usually presented as an important transitional stage on the road to what is regarded as his main historical achievement, namely the development of a fully fledged abstract style. But this period could be seen, instead, as the culmination of his art.

His later work was dominated by over-elaborate theories that few others appreciated and became increasingly esoteric and arid, the hallmarks of an artist who had tuned out all other voices and listened only to his own. Such self-absorption was also reflected in his private life. When the Blue Rider group broke up in 1914 on the outbreak of World War I, Kandinsky was forced to return to Russia. He left Munter, whom he had once promised to marry and never saw her again.

"Kandinsky and the Blue Rider from the Lenbachhaus, Munich" at the Mitsubishi Ichigokan Museum, Tokyo runs till Feb. 6; admission ¥1,400; open 10 a.m.-8 p.m. (Wed., Thu., Fri. till 6 p.m.), closed Mon. For more information, visit mimt.jp

CULTURA

«El bien está enraizado en la conciencia; el mal es un hongo»

Gianrico Carofligio es procurador antimafia, fiscal, senador y autor de novela negra

ANTONIO ASTORGA

Día 12/01/2011 - 04.01h

JAIME GARCÍA

-¿A un fiscal le «pone» enviar tipos a la cárcel?

-Nunca me he sentido satisfecho por un proceso que termina en condena. Aunque sea un criminal, no es agradable mandar a alguien entre rejas.

-¿Cuál es «su» satisfacción, entonces?

-Una investigación bien llevada que acaba en éxito. Cuando interrogas y usando tu inteligencia consigues la confesión. Lo echo de menos como fiscal.

-¿Qué pasa por la mente de un asesino?

-Nada. En muchísimos casos de homicidio que investigué, los motivos eran estúpidos, banales, y el homicida no experimentó nada fuera de lo común.

-¿Dónde surge la maldad?

-Hannah Arendt, en su libro La banalidad del mal, explica que el mal surge por motivos absolutamente banales. El bien está enraizado en la conciencia, pero el mal es como un hongo, no tiene raíces.

-¿Por qué se mata?

-De modo terrible, en el crimen organizado hay una racionalidad enferma, una locura, un estado de guerra: se mata a un enemigo. Hay un motivo.

-¿Y en la realidad?

-No hay ninguna justificación, ni enferma ni sana. Por un gesto estúpido y loco se arruinan las vidas.

-¿La realidad es escandalosa?

-Sí. Por la estupidez que gobierna muchos de los actos y las actitudes de los seres, incluidos y sobre todo los seres humanos inteligentes. Y por el poder del hombre. Poder y estupidez son escandalosos.

-¿Vamos a más o a menos en estupidez?

-La sociedad da muchos pasos hacia atrás, pero vamos a mejor. Y la estupidez siempre está al acecho.

-¿Cuántos casos ha investigado como fiscal?

-Han sido casi veinte años de duro trabajo...

-¿Alguna lección que no olvidará jamás?

-He descubierto que las personas no se corresponden con nuestros estereotipos. Hay criminales simpatiquísimos, que te cautivan, que no son malos, y con los que haces «amistad». Y hay personas «bien» que son una auténtica carroña, pura canalla. No hay que fiarse de los esquemas.

-¿La mafia es el cáncer italiano?

-Es un problema de algunas partes de Italia. En Calabria sobre todo, pero en Sicilia ya es menor.

-Aquí padecemos el cáncer de ETA, otra mafia.

-El de ETA es un tipo de terrorismo que ha usado métodos mafiosos (asesinatos, secuestros, extorsión...). Los métodos son similares a la mafia.

-¿Se acabará con la mafia?

-Sí.

-¿Cómo lo haría un buen cirujano de hierro?

-Arrestando a los mafiosos. Hay que extirpar el cáncer de la mafia. Es lo que deben hacer fiscales y policías. Meter a los mafiosos en la cárcel. Hay que trabajar para que el cáncer no se reproduzca. Y actuar en el tejido social, labor ya de educadores.

-¿De qué modo se debe «educar» a los jóvenes?

-Haciéndoles ver que la legalidad es conveniente. En la labor quirúrgica de represión, una parte muy importante es atacar el patrimonio de la mafia. 

-¿Por qué triunfa la cultura de la banalidad?

-La televisión comercial propone modelos totalmente banalizantes. En Italia, la cultura del berlusconismo ha hecho un inmenso daño. Muchos jóvenes solo piensan en convertirse en cosas que le suscita el imaginario televisivo, que es vulgar.

-Eso ya lo advertía Umberto Eco.

-Cualquiera con un mínimo cerebro está en contra de Berlusconi. No es una cuestión de derechas o de izquierdas, sino de sentido común.

-¿Y cómo se mantiene él en lo más alto del poder?

-A don Silvio le quedan dos telediarios, como se diría aquí. Berlusconi tiene un enorme poder económico, político y mediático, pero está al caer.

-¿Italia está cansada del «berlusconismo»?

-La contaminación ha sido muy profunda.

-A usted no le tiembla el pulso ante el folio en blanco. No conoce el «miedo escénico», pues.

-Ser magistrado me ha ayudado para darle una ambientación creíble a mis novelas. En ellas no hay cosas «nada reales» que encontramos en otros libros.

-¿Por qué escribe novela negra?

-Porque así vencía el miedo.

Chef de emociones

De la mano de un romántico abogado de Bari, desengañado en amores, llamado Guido Guerrieri, el italiano Gianrico Carofiglio (Bari, 1961) arrasa en la novela negra (un millón de ejemplares vendidos) con 5 obras exquisitas cocinadas a fuego lento; su última se titula «Las perfecciones provisionales» (La Esfera de los Libros). Quinta estación literaria y cinco grandes premios. Guido y Gianrico luchan por la justicia en tierra corrompida. «Me gusta contar historias realistas. Hay dos tipos de libros: a) cuando en una hora se te olvida lo que has leído; b) si después de leerlo, reflexionas. Pienso que mis obras pertenecen a la segunda categoría». ¿Guerrieri es el alter/ego-Carofiglio? «Si le encanta al público femenino, sí. Bromas aparte, es un personaje que por la edad, estudios, trabajo... tiene muchos elementos biográficos en común conmigo. Mis novelas son autobiografías de la emoción».

THE APPRAISAL

Even for Chefs, Home Kitchen Can Be Tight Fit

Chang W. Lee/The New York Times

Jehangir Mehta, the owner of two restaurants and a contestant on “Iron Chef,” in his home kitchen in Murray Hill.

By CHRISTINE HAUGHNEY

Published: January 10, 2011

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While some New Yorkers eat out or order in so often that they have been known to use kitchen cabinets as shoe storage, real estate brokers continue to talk up the merits of apartments that feature “chef’s kitchens.” The term conjures up visions of professionals using acres of counter space and island stoves to perfect their braising and baking — like Julia Child’s kitchen memorialized in the Smithsonian.

Enlarge This Image

Suzanne DeChillo/The New York Times

The chef Anita Lo in her kitchen at her apartment on Charles Street. Her weekend house has a chef’s kitchen.

But just as New York’s finest art is found on the walls of the city’s bankers and not on the walls of its celebrated artists, most apartments with chef’s kitchens are not owned or rented by real chefs. In fact, most chefs, like most other New Yorkers, struggle to stretch every cranny of kitchen space.

Jehangir Mehta works from an 8-by-8-foot kitchen in Murray Hill that he and his wife renovated three years ago. While he loves his $5,000 Jade stove and his Bosch dishwasher, Mr. Mehta, the owner of Graffiti in the East Village and Mehtaphor in TriBeCa and a contestant on the television program “Iron Chef,” does not have room to do much but stand and turn around. His twins, Xaera and Xerxes, who turn 2 in February, often sit on the counters as he works. Most chefs he knows have modest kitchens.

“A lot of them who are here are living in a regular-size apartment,” Mr. Mehta said, “and you just have to make do with what you have.”

Anita Lo, the owner and chef at the West Village restaurant Annisa and a former contestant on the show “Top Chef Masters,” has a chef’s kitchen at her weekend house on Long Island. But on weekdays she lives in a walk-up on Charles Street. The dimly lighted kitchen has the counter space of two subway seats, and an outdated stove used to store pans. Her refrigerator, she said, is part Manhattan bachelor pad with “booze, water, condiments,” and part nutty professor with cheese cultures and “goose fat from 1980-something.”

Jo-Ann Makovitzky and her husband, Marco Moreira, are both chefs and owners of Tocqueville and 15 East in Union Square. Before they had their daughter, they so rarely used the 6-by-10-foot galley kitchen in their Upper West Side rental that Con Edison suggested they turn their stove’s gas off.

Just before the birth of their daughter, Francesca, they renovated their kitchen with a four-burner gas stove. Now their kitchen is large enough to entertain guests and for husband and wife to each have a cutting area.

But Ms. Makovitzky, who also caters dinner parties for wealthy clients, stressed that it still had its limits. She stores her beloved copper pots in the oven and has little space to bake. There is not enough room to roll out dough or to use her KitchenAid mixer. “It’s surely not like the kitchens when we go into my clients’ homes,” she said.

Literary License

A listing for a triplex town house at 323A East 50th Street ($2.295 million) begins with a tribute to Ralph Waldo Emerson: “Earth laughs in flowers.” It goes on: “Jolly jonquils could have you tiptoeing over the potted tulips which you personally planted.” In this home, buyers can “read the paper, sip some wine over dinner al fresco or simply lollygag after a long day on one outdoor level, while you muse on and mull over your planting schemes for your other outdoor level.”

One Can Dream

A full-floor penthouse once rented by Donny Deutsch at 502 Park Avenue, with five bedrooms, eight bathrooms (two in the master bedroom), a study and four terraces, can be yours for $25 million.

And That’s Not All

A $19 million maisonette at 998 Fifth Avenue, across the street from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, has not only wood-paneled walls and a climate control system for every room, but also a separate cooling room, “which you can use for your furs and your wine,” said Cornelia Eland, a Stribling broker.

No Ikea Here

A four-bedroom condo at 33 Vestry Street ($14.95 million) will give Google a workout with its “Basaltina stone tiles and Mafi wide plank wood flooring,” the “open-plan kitchen by Bulthaup B-3,” the master bathroom’s “Novelda limestone flooring with Gris de Sienna and Novelda crème micro line chiseled wall” and fireplaces with “Pompeii stone hearths.”

A version of this article appeared in print on January 11, 2011, on page A23 of the New York edition.