“Madonna has so much influence in every sphere. I think she could kill people just by looking at them.”
We walked by the paparazzi step-and-repeat and down a blue carpet in MoMA’s sculpture garden, passing male models who held umbrellas for guests in case of rain.
She has a lot of restraint, I suggested.
“She’s the only person that would make me pass out if I met them.”
Then: “Madonna, I’d like you to meet Ryan Trecartin! He’s a fabulous artist.”
Ryan Trecartin did not in fact pass out when Klaus Biesenbach introduced him to Madonna, though neither of us was able to muster any words for the occasion. She didn’t have much to say either. She just looked up at us dubiously (murderously?), her weapon eyes framed by black hipster glasses as she chewed on a piece of bread. (LOOKING GOOD! Perez Hilton e-scrawled on the shot-from-the-hip photo he posted the next day.)
Madonna sat next to James Franco, who sat next to Marina Abramović, who sat next to Terence Koh, who sat next to Lizzie Fitch at a small table that also included Trecartin, Spike Jonze, Guy Oseary, Daphne Guinness, Martha Wainwright, and professional crier Laurel Nakadate.
full article at artforum