The arousal begins in the Metropolitan Museum of Art‘s Great Hall, erected with such robust buttresses and ample arches in 1870. Then, enter the accepting folds of the galleries, one inside of the next inside of the next, to explore your way through 5000 years of art—the mysteries of the Temple of Dendur, a genteel reverie in the Renaissance beds, the yielding petals of Georgia O’Keeffe. Paintings by Blake or Bosch or Botticelli indulge fetishes from Munchkin sodomites to a creamy-thighed Venus. Not turned on by exhibitionism in the exhibitions? Get some air in the sculpture court, posing with the other sculpted bodies and ivory-skinned nudes.
This article from the Village Voice Archive was posted on June 25, 2008