Yesterday, Anjali and I hit up the MoMA to see the latest exhibition, The Artist is Present by Marina Abramović.

On the 2nd floor of the museum, Abramović sits in the center of a taped-off square facing another chair, and people are encouraged to sit with her for as long as they wish — just staring without any verbal communication.

I read a lot about Abramović and the piece before visiting on Saturday, but I was completely blown away at how intense it was to witness in real life. The artist looked as if she were made of wax (or on the verge of death), and with the exception of a few blinks, she never moved or lost focus of the person sitting in front of her. The chatter around the square was filled with quiet questions and theories about her motivations and her appetite and her blank, yet piercing gaze. My main curiosity was what moved people to become SO emotional — to the point of tears — during a session with her.

Jezebel.com’s account of waiting in line to sit with the artist put things into a little more perspective about why the piece instills so much emotion in some:

We talked about how we so rarely look at each other in daily life. When two adult strangers make eye accidental contact, we hasten to look away. “It’s like we’re scared of connecting,” he said. It’s a hard thing, to really see another person, and to be scrutinized yourself in return.

The 6th floor was the second part of the show, which contained a retrospective of Abramović’s career. The space housed a variety of older videos of her work and several oddly-dressed and nude models reenacting her past performances — two of which stood facing each other, naked, in a hallway where we were encouraged to walk through them.

Nothing like a little Saturday afternoon thrill.

I really thought the show was one of the best and most memorable I had ever seen. Each piece really made us think or giggle or cringe or (possibly) understand — and I always found it difficult to look away or move on. I’ve also never seen so many Midwestern tourists with shocked, embarrassed faces, terrified and confused at the perversity of some of the installations.

At least the work never failed to create some sort of emotion in everyone.

Abramović once said, “I’m not interested in doing anything I’m not afraid of,” and I think that alone is what makes her work so intriguing and beyond compare.

If you’re in NYC, I highly recommend checking it out — the show closes on May 31.