Nestled among gritty brick buildings of the Bowery in SoHo, in downtown Manhattan lies the über-modern, starkly white New Museum. The seven-story structure rises like an off-kilter stereo speaker. Tokyo architects Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa designed the new home for the museum formerly located several blocks away from its current location, which opened on December 1, the date of the museum's thirtieth anniversary.

The first clue that the contemporary art museum is not your typical chic, stuck-up SoHo gallery is the one thing that breaks up the bright white monotony on the exterior of the building: a sign with rainbow-striped letters reading "Hell, Yes!" It sets the mood for the exhibitions inside. They are not what you expect to see when you walk into a museum, and they should not be taken too seriously.

A four-part exhibition, "Unmonumental," fills the four floors of the museum.   Through collage and sculpture, "Unmonumental" takes everyday 21 st -century objects like frozen food boxes, t-shirts, chairs, keys, belts, and handbags and turns them into thought-provoking works of art.

Sculptures are scattered on the floor across each of the galleries; the traditional barrier between the work of art and the observer is broken down. You can stand face-to-face with works like a life-sized wax woman until you realize that there is a burning wick on top of her head. You can only stand in front of a thrift store couch with a fluorescent light stuck through the cushion for so long until you ask yourself: is this art?

Is something made of cut-up cardboard or rusty beer cans, the junk found in just about anyone's garage, true artistic expression, when anyone could conceivably put it together? I looked at a piece made of a bicycle with handbags filled with bricks on its handlebars, and wondered: does this make some kind of a statement about consumerist capitalism? To be honest, I had no idea what it meant, but I didn't care: it's art because someone put pebbles in a Coach purse and called it art.

"The job of the artist is to challenge, to be visual and to create," said art history teacher Andrea Karanik, "In their time, artists who are celebrated today, like Monet and Warhol, were rejected by critics and the public. In the long run, the stronger work will come to stand the test of time."

One piece of artwork was especially expressive because it was intensely relatable. Sewn together on pieces of jersey cotton are common bumper sticker slogans: "What would Jesus bomb?", "My other car is a broom", "Mean people suck". Anyone who has read these phrases on the road can stand in front of this oddly shaped sculpture and laugh.

Whether or not you think you understand the messages behind such artwork is less important than standing, bemused, in front of them trying to figure the messages out.

Ride up the elevator, with its lime green corrugated metal walls, and challenge yourself to redefine art. Even the gift shop sells more than just photos of art. There are creations like "melting snowman canisters," books filled with cryptic collages, and a coffee mug with the "Hell, Yes!" logo.

The museum is free for students 18 and under.