Every year, tens of thousands of people move to New York City in part because of all that it promises in the arts. With a virtually uncountable number of movie theaters, museums, theatrical venues, and art galleries (line up a few chairs, and your kitchen can be a venue), the city remains the center of the world of the arts, Berlin be damned. For newcomers, the plethora of art-consumption possibilities encourages an outsize dream of cultural indulgence. Yet more people here (though there aren't statistics on this) seem to spend their time feeling guilty that they missed the Marina Abramovic show at MOMA or lamenting that they didn't see Doug Wright's Grey Gardens at the Walter Kerr rather than taking their cue from the super-organized types who circle all the don't-miss listings in the weeklies and rush around maniacally checking off their arts bingo card. In fact, those anal-retentive folks can seem a bit gauche. This is a city where seeming to care too much looks overeager and where ambition is rampant but quiet: In public, we can only sneer... More >>>