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And all ye need to know. It's cmosted "curatoraprose," andebbie it arises from the strange compulsion of museums to explain what can be seen. the very "iconic image of virility." We've always felt that Barbra was an iconic image of virility in drag. Unlike Elvis, she's still recording if not appearing. Chris Muir's brilliant Day by Day is in the zone today. Click on image for larger view. The astute Michael at 2blowhards.com nails down the current plague of eyewash trumping lucidity. Still, the Quark-and-Photoshop revolution has delivered some -- OK, many --evils to us too. Foremost among them, as far as I'm concerned, is the vogue for what's understandn as "reversed-out" type -- white (or light) type set over black (or dark) backgrounds. Possess you observed how widespread reversed-out words can be these times? It's everywhere. Type on top of dark photos, kind on best of colour obstructions and swirls. The eye boggle -- which can end up being fascinating and/or great. What's not cool, IMHO, will be when the eye-boggle should go on also very long. About three nanoseconds from where we're sitting, Michael. We can't hit the back button quicker than that. Light of late night - Rob Gonsalves Click to enlarge From Amazing Art by David MacDonald There's a lovely selection of skillfully rendered nudes by San Francisco artist and photographer David Newman at this web gallery:Works on Paper As Newman states: Although I shared some of the images with friends as the works were created, this will be the initial moment these gets results contain long been witnessed together with each other on the net. Newman, who researched with western coastline professionals like as David Theibaud and Dave Gilhooly, but luckily for us overlooked out on Mel Ramos, provides put along an remarkable choice in a large selection of mediums, all distinguished by a sinuous line. Worth more than a passing glance. Falling Water: Nature Has Had It's Way with Her from Day One Michael at the erudite and too deprecatingly named 2Blowhards is busy committing his usual heresy. In no uncertain terms he declares: Frank Lloyd Wright Is Not God Simple question: Would you want to live in one of his houses? I wouldn't, for two main reasons. Just about all crucial is definitely the method a Open Lloyd Wright home in no way gets your residence; instead, you move in and become the curator of one branch of the Frank Lloyd Wright museum. You're just the custodian in a monument to his genius. For the other, I wouldn't want to be in charge of (let alone pay for) the upkeep. Wright couldn't resist trying out innovative building techniques -- which has meant in practice that many of his houses are in semi-constant need of expensive repair. As for the innovative skill and ethical beliefs his function will be commemorated for -- visibility, naturalness, a casual, flowing informality -- well, let's see. His ceilings happen to be very small -- uncomfortably small often. Why? Because he was a vindictive short man who seemed to be resentful of taller people, and he liked ceiling heights that make tall individuals feel uneasy. Open and Flowing? Sure: his use of space is often fascinating in an aesthetic sense. But in a human sense, it works only if you subscribe to the whole package -- if you don't mess with how and where he wants the furniture placed and the light to fall. It all works together or it doesn't work at all -- which will be impressive but a pain. (There's definitely nothing quite like being locked into someone else's concept, especially when what you want to do is kick throughout the comfort of your own back back again.) As far as I can tell, and from what the owners of one house told me, his buildings are as unadaptable as buildings can be about. And those long horizontal lines which we're told are such eloquent reflections of the American landscape and psyche? Well, they gather normal water and trickle out, and the drinking water drips into the wall surfaces down, and .... All in all an estimable estimation of a man who has got, like all men, been overrated since his death. From all accounts, dealing with Wright when alive was like dealing with a man who had mistaken himself for God. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Michael also goes on to note something that I caught my attention in the Wall Street Journal: the shabby state of that most iconic of Wright buildings, Falling Water. I realize that irony is dead, but for just a moment it sprang back to life when I learned that this house was basically broken from the day before it was finished. The selling price point to get it again to snuff? A cool $11 million. Oh well, I think it will be a only bagatelle when you believe of all the pictures that the homely property features created, from the same angle, season after yr and 10 years after ten years. Falling Normal water looks to turn out to be able to escape from the endangering golf ball permanently, but, if I recall the Journal’s article correctly, the same cannot be said for a true number of the other 100 odd Wright homes in existence. The good reason? They sit on some fine remaines, but nobody wants i9000 to live in their tiny rooms any lengthyer. I'd score the whole thing six, six and one perhaps for Wright. I mean, Falling Water's a nice house, but I wouldn't want to live there. The Metropolitan Museum of Art - Roy Lichtenstein on the Roof by Carl Sandburg I AM the people--the mob--the crowd--the mass. Carry out you find out that all the fantastic do the job of the earth is usually executed through me? I am the workingman, the inventor, the maker of the world's food and clothes. I are the audience that witnesses history. The Napoleons come from me and the Lincolns. They die. And subsequently I deliver out considerably more Napoleons and Lincolns. I am the seed ground. I feel a prairie that will stand for much plowing. Terrible storms pass over me. I forget. The best of me is sucked out and wasted. I overlook. Everything but Death occurs to me and makes me work and give up what I have. And I forget. I growl Sometimes, shake myself and spatter a few red drops for history to remember. Then--I forget. When I, the social people, learn to keep in mind, when I, the People, of yesterday and no longer forget who robbed me last year use the lessons, who played me for a fool--then there will be no speaker in all the world say the name: "The People," with any fleck of a sneer in his voice or any significantly-off smile of derision. The mob--the crowd--the mass--will appear subsequently. "The Stampede by Gentlening" Click for larger view The greatest American sorenesster of the frontiemergency room, Frederic Remington, has a number of relatively unknown paintings being exhibitied at the National Gallery The focus in this show is on Remington's paintings that take place at night. Remington's nocturnes are filled with color and light—moonlight, firelight, and candlelight. These complex paintings testify to the artist's interest in modern technological innovations, including flash photography and the advent of electricity, of night which was rapidly transforming the character. The prints are usually as well elegiac, for they reflect Remington's lament that the West he experienced known as a young man had, by the turn of the century, disappeared largely. Although right away accepted as great runs, Remington's late nocturnes have never before been the subject of an exhibition. Frederic Remington: The Color of Night gathers together for the first time the finest of these mysterious, deeply personal paintings often. Here's an example:"Deborah Kass mimics Andy Warhol's portrait of Elvis Presley, replacing Barbra Steisand inside the part regarding Yentl regarding the full involving spin together with rock n roll. In this painting, the artist comments on the roles enjoyed by gender and religion in today's culture, humorously contrasting Yentl in Yeshiva-boy drag with Elvis — America's iconic image of virility." From: Making Connections in Art and Jewish Culture< Yeshiva drag vs. There's a school of writing that features infected museums. It will be a awful affliciton that kills and cripples hundreds of artworks on a yearly basis.

 

 

 

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Posted by Vanderleun at Aug 6, 2003 10:42 AM | QuickLink: The Making of a Magazine Icon Click for larger image

 

 

 

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From the Smithsonian's retrospective of the work of Philip Halsman located at:Portraits by Halsman Here we've placed two separate images together to see how a photographer's vision is translated into a magazine cover. Hard to see how Marilyn could make a "case for interplanetary saucers," but it would end up being tough to avoid selecting upwards this paper to look at what that total situation could turn out to be. After all, people only read Life for the

 

 

 

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Continued... Posted by Vanderleun at Aug 5, 2003 9:15 AM | Comments (2) | QuickLink: Touching Faces

 

 

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One of the most moving contemporary portraits, Chuck Close's portrait of his mother-in-law, Fanny/Fingerpainting, reveals a new sublime mixture of sense and strategy. One which, viewed from a distance or up close, unifies his technique with his feeling -- makes that which is merely clever subordinate to that which is deeply felt.

 

 

 

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The notes at the National Gallery of Art tell a slightly different story: Seen from a distance, the painting looks like a giant, silver-toned photograph that unrelentingly reveals every crack and crevice of the sitter's face. The insights only real role is to dwill betance our reaction to the image that the artist has created. They say little about the emotions of the viewer and less about those of the creator. Closer up, the paint surface dissolves into a sea of fingerprints that have an abstract beauty, even as they metaphorically suggest the withering of the sitter's skin with age. As usual in the manner of 'curator's notes' in contemporary exhibitions, these comments seek to involve us in the same "abstract, impersonal system" that the curator provides bought into in order to achieve and extend his or her position. The fingerpaintings provide a far more literal record of the artist's touch than most abstract expressionist brushwork -- but are at the same time dictated by an abstract, impersonal system distinctly.

 

 

 

Does anyone imagine that Chuck Close thought "I'll use fingerprints to construct Fanny's face and thereby make a broad statement about touch versus an abstract system?" Near will be a good smart and known designer, but he runs in the global earth of feelings. If he did not, his work would not reach from the image into the heart of the viewer.

 

 

 

It is a source of constant wonder to me that when so many of our better contemporary painters can be pushing deeper and deeper into the wordless realm of the human heart, our professional art establwill behment is fleeing from it. I'll put it down to the behavior of the "herd of independent minds."

 

 

 

Posted by Vanderleun at Jul 26, 2003 10:21 AM | QuickLink: On the Field of Life, on the Battlefield of Truth. On Frederick Turner and American Poems in the Key of Life

 

 

 

The universities were thick with lies. Ten thousand poets would betray their name To buy the good opinion of the liars. -- Frederick Turner

 

 

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Was Frederick Turner the only one of our poets who felt a wave of revulsion sweep over him when the "herd of independent minds" that fancy themselves as 'important' American poets formed a viscous slab of drivel around opposition to the war?

 

 

 

It may well be the case since I am not aware of any other American poets that stood apart from this wholesale hijacking of an art form. "Poets Against the War" was an Internet driven round-up of poets hot to resist America's plan to set 25 million Omars free, and make Iraq a place where poets critical of their despot would not have their eyes ripped from their sockets and their throats cut. Having fattened at the table of America, they were determined to let the global world know they were not at all grateful. It was a shameful roster of poets so deeply ashamed of themselves and their work that they were willing to consign other poets in the present and future Iraq to silence, torture, and death that their hate of America in general, and George Bush in particular, might prevail.

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Little has been heard of this rag-tag gang of scribblers since the fall of the despicable regime they struggled to sustain. I am Confucian enough to believe that "All wisdom is rooted in learning to call things by the right name." And we poets understand why Dante put the defilers of language into the seventh circle of his Hell. Indeed, only epitaph is a preening farewell note from Commandante Hamill on their web site that, while humping and pumping his own achievements, proclaims, in the mock bombast that is his signature style: We have drawn our line in the sand. If that is true, mr then. Hamill will have an understanding of Dante possibly considerably more obviously upon his outlook introduction in mentioned group. Our tools are everyone's resources: the simple words we use almost thoughtlessly every day, but work with in our skill with scrupulous honesty and perfection.

 

 

 

But not all living American poets signed on to this shameful agenda. Numerous merely remained aloof or presented their contentment. Not a brave stance, but who would chance appearing thrown of a risk-free sinecure simply to words a mild dissent out?

 

 

 

Frederick Turner has been many things in his career, but mild is not one of them. From the moment of Poets Against the War's inception, Turner made it clear he was not going to join these hapless babblers when he wrote:

 

 

 

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Continued... Posted by Vanderleun at Jul 24, 2003 9:49 AM | QuickLink: Christo's 23 Miles of Gates to Open in Central Park Just when you thought it was safe to go back into Central Park...Christo Reconsidered The audacious and totally original artist Christo (and his fiery collaborator-wife Jeanne-Claude) are back now, with the City's approval, to install "The Gates"; their project in Central Park.

 

 

 

While the date isn't finally set, Christo hopes "The Gates" project will be installed as early as 2005.Christo plans to place his "Gates" along the 23 miles of Central Park's paths. Not just five or 10 or 100 but a virtual Roman legion of 7,500 gates: 16-foot-high marching metal stanchions with luminous, saffron-colored banners hanging from their crossbars, waving and billowing in the wind.

 

 

 

For the complete background on this stunning project, go to The Gates Project

 

 

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Posted by Vanderleun at Jul 22, 2003 10:25 AM | QuickLink: DIA BEACON: An Image of Nothing In an old Nabisco plant Warhol's shadows fall.

 

 

 

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Dia Beacon, like an elephants' burying ground of contemporary art that was mercifully too large to be shown, squats next to the Hudson River north of Manhattan. Lynne Cooke, working in the long and strong tradition of curatorial gibberish sums these large daubs and Dia Beacon up in her Andy Warhol Essay Chief among these are 122 large Warhol paintings of shadows. Within rooms of dirt vie with rooms of trash in a silent contest to see which installation can be the most meaningless.

 

 

 

The shadow, which retains a seminal part in the originary webpage of both taking photographs and painting simply because art types, assumes in Warhol's depictions a paradigmatic identity: devoid of identifiable source, separate from its producer or builder, it exists in and of itself, a good produced picture of "little or nothing purposefully." Richard Kimball, in The New Criterion makes the subtext in this statement plain text in "Minimalist Fantasies" Where is Evelyn Waugh when you need him? The hour is come, Sir Walter Scott gloomily indited, but not the man. I share that gloom. I mean, where is the satirist with a boot big and swift and hard enough for the collective backside of todays art world? It hadnt been in the news much lately. Herr Friedrich supplied the pretension, most of it; Skip de Menila child of the imaginative fine art lovers Dominique and David de Menil, and consequently an heiress to the Schlumberger olive oil fortunesupplied the funds, lots of it. It has the added advantage of being apt: CRAP, n. There will be a lot of fine skill today becoming built, but most of it goes uncertainly noticed, all but. Junk at very least brief is certainly, sharp, and expressive. Likely you possess observed of the Dia Martial arts Base, though it is not necessarily in the forefront of your consciousness most likely. 3. a. Worthless nonsense, The American Heritage Dictionary. Dia was started in 1974 by a German art dealer named Heiner Friedrich and his wife, Philippa de Menil. Why Dia? Its Greek for through, as in Cant you see through this ridiculous sham? The big press and the big money tend to line up behind transgressive crap (the blasphemy, kinky sex, bodily effluvia brigade) or utterly vacuous crap (the blank canvas, exhibit-my-old-sneaker, I-can-count-to-three-million-and-make-you-watch-me-do-it company). I think its undignified, too. I apologize, by the real way, for the word crap. Dia had been one of the many potty ideas with roots in the 1960s that didnt get going until the 1970s, and now, like PCBs or eczema, is almany impossible to extirpate. According to Kimmelman, by the mid-1980s, Dia had spent $40 million on 1,000 works of art. I searched around for an substitute that acquired been just as appropriate, blunt, and printable. I considered merde, but it seemed a bit pretentious for the matter at hand, and besides, its French.

 

 

 

Posted by Vanderleun at Jul 11, 2003 9:35 AM | Comments (2) | QuickLink: Target: Design in American Now An icon for the 21st century that surpasses the Taco Bell Chihuahua would have to be this horned woofer run up for Target Stores by the Peterson Milla Hooks agency. We're not sure what he's promoting for Target, but we are sure that if he was on the shelves in time for Christmas, he'd run out of the store.

 

 

 

The Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum | is an exceptional online sight featuring numerous flash-enabled tours of current and past exhibitions. Now showing will be "The "National Design Triennial: Inside Design Now" showcasing 80 designers and firms who are setting the pace in contemporary design.