tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10865885608559618942024-03-15T18:09:46.844-07:00THE BLUE LANTERNTHE BLUE LANTERN - ARTS JOURNALISM FOR THE LOVE OF ITJane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.comBlogger443125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-54159992030520149522024-01-30T16:46:00.000-08:002024-01-30T16:46:27.768-08:00Berthe Morisot: Things You Can't See In A Painting<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mYBEI3XDAK9Bexgjuit7fBpVqKoupfVXGXsB-lquNhTKjY_RXhyphenhyphenPrTlol2BhVVTixbiPqjlQ7l4ugkxlxybNrpt8ajeMEIKkqRdvdasdtymNlvYXmwwFNONawtvBy6l-a3Ce3dFGhslJD9V1YnYLm1efpeLO8QEXbSju7De6L9vgH0dGZ2CIGbskSx0R/s974/Berthe%20Morisot%20+%20Two%20Girls%20+%201894%20+%20%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Phillips%20Collection%20+%20Washington%20DC.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="974" data-original-width="800" height="620" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_mYBEI3XDAK9Bexgjuit7fBpVqKoupfVXGXsB-lquNhTKjY_RXhyphenhyphenPrTlol2BhVVTixbiPqjlQ7l4ugkxlxybNrpt8ajeMEIKkqRdvdasdtymNlvYXmwwFNONawtvBy6l-a3Ce3dFGhslJD9V1YnYLm1efpeLO8QEXbSju7De6L9vgH0dGZ2CIGbskSx0R/w509-h620/Berthe%20Morisot%20+%20Two%20Girls%20+%201894%20+%20%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Phillips%20Collection%20+%20Washington%20DC.jpg" width="509" /></a></div><br /><p></p><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">(T)here is only one true Impressionist in the whole revolutionary group - and that is Mlle Berthe Morisot." - Paul Mantz, 1877 </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When the Barnes Foundation organized their Berthe Morisot retrospective in 2018, they called it "Morisot: Woman Impressionist." Cue the Greek chorus. But that moniker obscures as much as it reveals. Morisot felt no impulse to eroticize her female subjects as male artists did; she foregrounded their subjectivity, their interior focus. She was able to reveal the life of women as she had experienced it herself. After her death in 1895, Morisot's star faded and, with it, her critical reputation. Almost a century would pass before Tamar Garb and Kathleen Adler addressed her erasure from Impressionist history.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Scumble: to soften or blend an outline with a thin wash. Morisot's paintings were praised for their luminous quality, a technique she adapted from the her work with Corot who taught her to paint outdoors. Kept out of traditional (male) art classes, young Berthe was tutored at home.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">On the advice of Pissarro, in 1858, Manet, Degas, and Morisot applied to the Copyists' Office at the Louvre for permission to set up their easels in the galleries. By 1864, Morisot's paintings were hanging in the Salon de Paris.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pO-rgxipR7a5zrJR7Zd6cA1Ngy2V1QAT6aaOBvYTB7DWUAcdT-lDIPiCenIKdIiurfzy5hJeImGz2F84y8RMrKvHqkT9FlhJMWaEoZ9bHhtX2cbjpMdoa4yuPm8HKateZTusMKPcOP4IlTlhDjHfrVBWlPN2wgggDnW9fcNq05gvqrhKK8a0fytmfSbE/s490/Berthe%20Morisot%20+%20Self%20Portrait%20+%201885%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Musee%20Marmottan%20Monet%20+%20Paris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="490" data-original-width="400" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1pO-rgxipR7a5zrJR7Zd6cA1Ngy2V1QAT6aaOBvYTB7DWUAcdT-lDIPiCenIKdIiurfzy5hJeImGz2F84y8RMrKvHqkT9FlhJMWaEoZ9bHhtX2cbjpMdoa4yuPm8HKateZTusMKPcOP4IlTlhDjHfrVBWlPN2wgggDnW9fcNq05gvqrhKK8a0fytmfSbE/s320/Berthe%20Morisot%20+%20Self%20Portrait%20+%201885%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Musee%20Marmottan%20Monet%20+%20Paris.jpg" width="261" /></a></div>Unlike her friends, Berthe Morisot did not have to soften her experimental inclinations to suit the tastes of potential patrons; her bourgeois background provided Morisot with economic security. On the other hand, she did not share their freedom to go on painting expeditions to the country in search of interesting subjects or spend her evenings soaking in the ambience of urban cafes. Fortunately, her family welcomed her unconventional friends into their home, so long as the young men were presentable.</div><div><br /></div><div>Morisot's mother was the great niece of the great 18th century painter Fragonard. In her work the lilacs and the grays become gestural scratches that are halfway to abstraction.</div><div><br /></div><div>The young woman with long red hair was Berthe Morisot's daughter, and frequent model, Julie Manet.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Images: </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Berthe Morisot - <i>Two Girls</i>, 1894, oil on canvas, Phillips Collection, Washington, DC.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Berthe Morisot - <i>Self- Portrait</i>, 1885, oil on canvas, Musee Marmottan Manet, Paris.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-59595280447444983712024-01-12T12:44:00.000-08:002024-01-12T12:44:48.825-08:00Aymeric Fouquez: A Quiet Eye<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWhZHKZLybHcHfcTtGYsnOhv5mM7qq_Xe0_hiHWQHfGaKBWqLx4bTGDmh5vHkocLisw8qv_1FjS1NKTuTVjoq99Qfr4zkDR8K8rxUjO1VVpK9aM-sRumRefrG4yF0UE7H6b7kmV6Sgdq669v_dAZDK7ZwQIQY2-jmsF6YztRurYssQNb0b3oKx8fag6Wu/s430/Aymeric%20Fouquez%20+%20Nord%20+%20separable%20chromogenic%20prints%20+%20Pompidou%20Center%20+%20Paris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="344" data-original-width="430" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXWhZHKZLybHcHfcTtGYsnOhv5mM7qq_Xe0_hiHWQHfGaKBWqLx4bTGDmh5vHkocLisw8qv_1FjS1NKTuTVjoq99Qfr4zkDR8K8rxUjO1VVpK9aM-sRumRefrG4yF0UE7H6b7kmV6Sgdq669v_dAZDK7ZwQIQY2-jmsF6YztRurYssQNb0b3oKx8fag6Wu/s320/Aymeric%20Fouquez%20+%20Nord%20+%20separable%20chromogenic%20prints%20+%20Pompidou%20Center%20+%20Paris.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div>"This landscape looks like a secret<br /><div>because the river can't be seen</div><div>from the spot where I am standing.</div><div>And there fore it is</div><div>the landscape where I most easily</div><div>would be able to do without myself.</div><div>Among there green hills and blue mountains</div><div>my person</div><div>almost feels an insult."</div><div> - excerpt from "The River's Secret" by Hendrik Nordbrandt, translated from the Danish by John Irons</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The mostly grey and white palette of Ayermic Fouquez reminds me of the Danish painter Vilhelm Hammershoi, with its silvery greys and pale colors. Unemphatic, yet memorable. Fouquez finds poetry in otherwise unremarkable common landscapes. The photographs capture a singular instant but I sense a prolonged meditative process in Fouquez's selection of the moment. In his work the horizon is low and flat but remember that Denmark is bordered by Germany.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Born in Chateau-Thierry in France, Fouquez studied photography at <i>l'Ecole nationale superieure</i> in Arles. Aymeric lives in Cologne, Germany.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Aymeric Fouquez, from the series <i>Nord</i> (<i>North</i>), 2006-2018, separable chromographic prints, Pompidou Center, Paris.</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-68737078953391567172024-01-12T11:58:00.000-08:002024-01-12T11:58:44.909-08:00Ebisu Catching a Goldfish<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNS2HR2LkqMWv5W_l_apFTHIQO6Bc0p9o16a-PTwIUxOAeH9OFpOKXiV92DrO33UV_ceKibM0mzm9_VwFsogtMIhX7eTYPFPwAQB0lTJNpDqinvMfWP_XYdJPYCUFwl6VnaxnVu2ZzB_m5PCFg-wBj7EVkTQSE0dJiQJumfnqKYSQxYJWCJ59Q71TmtXF/s650/Katsushika%20Hokusai%20+%20Ebisu%20Catching%20A%20Goldfish%20+%20circa%201830%20+%20Museum%20of%20Asian%20Art%20+%20Berlin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="147" height="575" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGNS2HR2LkqMWv5W_l_apFTHIQO6Bc0p9o16a-PTwIUxOAeH9OFpOKXiV92DrO33UV_ceKibM0mzm9_VwFsogtMIhX7eTYPFPwAQB0lTJNpDqinvMfWP_XYdJPYCUFwl6VnaxnVu2ZzB_m5PCFg-wBj7EVkTQSE0dJiQJumfnqKYSQxYJWCJ59Q71TmtXF/w129-h575/Katsushika%20Hokusai%20+%20Ebisu%20Catching%20A%20Goldfish%20+%20circa%201830%20+%20Museum%20of%20Asian%20Art%20+%20Berlin.jpg" width="129" /></a></div><br />But perhaps the heart<p></p><p>Does not want to be understood. </p><p>Your shadow falls on its pond</p><p>and the small fish hurry away.</p><p>They have their own lives,</p><p>not yours, which they love.</p><p>And if to you it is anger,</p><p>bewilderment, grief,</p><p>to them it is simply life:</p><p>their mouths open and close,</p><p>their gills, they are fed, they breathe.</p><p>The gods are not large,</p><p>outside us, they are the fish, </p><p>going on wit their own concerns."</p><p><br /></p><p>"The Gods Are Not Large" by Jane Hirshfield, from <i>The October Palace</i>, New York, Harper Perennial: 1994.</p><p><br /></p><p>Image: Katsushika Hokusai - <i>Ebisu Catching a Goldfish</i>, circa 1830, Museum of Asian Arts, Berlin.</p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-53695690626905940362023-12-31T12:09:00.000-08:002023-12-31T12:09:56.021-08:00Ocotillo Nocturne<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6fp0_mMo-LiX0J09GtQqt088-OtYa0bxzUW33VzElSiYGAYwnwWrypY6oQB1UeCNZrqRojXxA-sFF18O5hKbg-pZmB0PQ72TZ-KHGzFYHiw9kKDKSQhGtSvcNBoCaPh1oADJnV1-EnnRJ9K-wytypZWTeAUsqy_S9tMIYvc6dzWh4zZLk-myDNunLKJG/s560/Fred%20Tomaselli%20+%20Ocotillo%20Nocturne%20+%201993%20+%20acrylic-synthetic%20resin%20-%20pills-leaves%20on%20wood%20+%20Whitney%20Museum.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="419" height="423" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-6fp0_mMo-LiX0J09GtQqt088-OtYa0bxzUW33VzElSiYGAYwnwWrypY6oQB1UeCNZrqRojXxA-sFF18O5hKbg-pZmB0PQ72TZ-KHGzFYHiw9kKDKSQhGtSvcNBoCaPh1oADJnV1-EnnRJ9K-wytypZWTeAUsqy_S9tMIYvc6dzWh4zZLk-myDNunLKJG/w316-h423/Fred%20Tomaselli%20+%20Ocotillo%20Nocturne%20+%201993%20+%20acrylic-synthetic%20resin%20-%20pills-leaves%20on%20wood%20+%20Whitney%20Museum.jpeg" width="316" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Those long ghostly black fingers, visible in silhouette, are the branches of the Ocotillo cactus. The 'vine cactus' is indigenous to the desert of the Imperial Valley. Tucked into the southeasternmost corner of California, Ocotillo is a land of little rain.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"I want people to get lost in the work. I want to seduce people into it and I want people to get lost inside the world of the work. In that way the work is pre-Modernist. I throw all my obsessions and loves into the work, and I try not to be too embarrassed about any of it. I love gardening. I love watching birds and all that gets into the work." - Fred Tomaselli</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">His light-filled geometric patterns pulse with energy and if they appear familiar yet difficult to place in any known cosmology, this only intensifies our impression of deep time. Surely, this feeling is evoked by the desert at dusk.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Fred Tomaselli - <i>Ocotillo Nocturne</i>, 1993, acrylic, synthetic, resin, pills, and leaves on wood panel, Whitney Museum of American Art, NYC.</div><p></p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-26204769987772359672023-12-24T13:33:00.000-08:002023-12-24T13:35:13.114-08:00A Commedia del arte Christmas<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQ0mfIUTtQMchETLYajx0VWLH9LLH5jV-ZiPrZx8EhQGORlOyoS4c1X1ykgHGikLlkitggJW-UvknfmeDS9w2HFbUUvM0kCPRHfRPAqTrYwh_ix1CCoVQQ2LEAS3A4dhibN2rMt3lQq0XEwKmEG759P2dJEwpG9HRvqV_8lfKCLyIbASUDEfGtE2C2kUx/s758/Maurizio%20Fraschetti%20+%20Marionnettes%20+%202002%20+%20Alinari%20Archives%20+%20Florence.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="505" data-original-width="758" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQ0mfIUTtQMchETLYajx0VWLH9LLH5jV-ZiPrZx8EhQGORlOyoS4c1X1ykgHGikLlkitggJW-UvknfmeDS9w2HFbUUvM0kCPRHfRPAqTrYwh_ix1CCoVQQ2LEAS3A4dhibN2rMt3lQq0XEwKmEG759P2dJEwpG9HRvqV_8lfKCLyIbASUDEfGtE2C2kUx/w412-h274/Maurizio%20Fraschetti%20+%20Marionnettes%20+%202002%20+%20Alinari%20Archives%20+%20Florence.jpg" width="412" /></a></div><br /><div><div style="text-align: justify;">Marionettes, (puppets controlled by strings), have been performing at Christmas markets since medieval times. These marionettes included characters from the commedia del arte, such Pulcinella. The name marionette means 'little Mary' in tribute to the Virgin Mary. </div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Merry Christmas to one and all.</div><p></p><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Maurizio Faschetti - untitled, December 2002, photograph, Alinari Archives, Florence.</div></div></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-1932007184124004702023-12-18T10:12:00.000-08:002023-12-18T16:48:47.081-08:00Eileen Agar: Water Sprite<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQgMAyg_8xShSt2FvgdWtYqUw028QW28WU5X2H0hyphenhyphenWOJaK-Sq4ZWDIwhwb2ty7vM-3OmuytkfVYgWGt3EqjgVGRmOtrvh_eXbmLvkUIkMXYOxppWP9-UQwdSJPJBPTK8Oup_ehUtPncxxthzk0jdmFGAWk6NWIKVJwpndvxZggk1cSlD_6BQVM8EsHjm9/s956/Eileen%20Agar%20+%20Ondine%20+%201972%20+%20acryllic%20and%20collage%20on%20canvas%20+%20Andrew%20Kreps%20%20Gallery%20+%20NYC.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="956" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYQgMAyg_8xShSt2FvgdWtYqUw028QW28WU5X2H0hyphenhyphenWOJaK-Sq4ZWDIwhwb2ty7vM-3OmuytkfVYgWGt3EqjgVGRmOtrvh_eXbmLvkUIkMXYOxppWP9-UQwdSJPJBPTK8Oup_ehUtPncxxthzk0jdmFGAWk6NWIKVJwpndvxZggk1cSlD_6BQVM8EsHjm9/w457-h306/Eileen%20Agar%20+%20Ondine%20+%201972%20+%20acryllic%20and%20collage%20on%20canvas%20+%20Andrew%20Kreps%20%20Gallery%20+%20NYC.jpg" width="457" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Try telling a fish about water. Dynamism radiates in all directions from Ondine. Underwater, she floats within a protective penumbra, rather like thee spikes of a porcupine. We also see a fish tail that will, in time, morph this water sprite into a mermaid. From fish to mermaid is an evolutionary transformation. The human face is overlaid with vegetal growth in the red (blood) and green (vegetable) oval filigree. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In the manner of a Renaissance portrait of a venerable lady, Eileen Agar's <i>Ondine</i> offers her left profile to the viewer. It calls to mind these lines from <i>Undine</i> :(1811) by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqe:</div><div style="text-align: justify;">"... in each element there exists a race of beings, whose form scarcely differs from yours, but who very seldom appears to mortal sight ... you now see before you, my love, an undine." Faces in profile recur in Agar's work, caught in the act of amazement. And those round eyes remind me of Picasso's images.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Where can we situate the work of a surrealist like Agar? Historical painting shows an event that happened at a particular moment. Genre painting shows something ordinary that happens all the time. Surrealist painting suggests what existd beyond reality.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Eileen Agar (1899-1991) was born in Buenos Aires. As a young girl she was sent to school in England. In 1926, she met her lifelong partner, Hungarian-born Joseph Bard. By 1930, Agar had begun to do art that was recognizably aurrrealist. She is buried in the storied Pere Lachaise Cemetery in Paris.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Eileen Agar - <i>Ondine</i>, 1972, acryllic and collage on canvas, Kreps Gallery, NYC.</div><p></p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-3997362790846547862023-12-10T11:39:00.000-08:002023-12-10T11:39:26.970-08:00In the Footsteps of Dorothy Parker: Wendy Cope<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpLWmmronDAJPwy6rRChWUQCXhDWQMgRdDTPZJc3vMM5VZ2MusAr-fiQNh3HX8CS13E112OPdMnka303Ke_c41qJZ0IxfUKs4VF3Lq1h2u9yGJ-8L1l_WWinmzZaNIUwxtUDJ-ma5Qupkymkdm93tjV7JpBCnRBYrVKGwOOhloXJ3I7FX8k1JeRXzNc5k/s724/Joel%20Meyerowitz%20+%20from%20the%20Pack%20Series%20+%201977%20+%20Kodachrome%20+%20Pompidou%20Center%20+%20Paris%20(2).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="579" data-original-width="724" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpLWmmronDAJPwy6rRChWUQCXhDWQMgRdDTPZJc3vMM5VZ2MusAr-fiQNh3HX8CS13E112OPdMnka303Ke_c41qJZ0IxfUKs4VF3Lq1h2u9yGJ-8L1l_WWinmzZaNIUwxtUDJ-ma5Qupkymkdm93tjV7JpBCnRBYrVKGwOOhloXJ3I7FX8k1JeRXzNc5k/s320/Joel%20Meyerowitz%20+%20from%20the%20Pack%20Series%20+%201977%20+%20Kodachrome%20+%20Pompidou%20Center%20+%20Paris%20(2).jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>"At Christmas little children sing and merry bells jingle,</p><p>The cold winter air makes our hands and faces tingle</p><p>And happy families go to church and cheerily they mingle</p><p>And the whole business is unbelievably dreadful, if you're single."</p><p> - Wendy Cope</p><p><br /></p><p>Wendy Cope (b.1945) is a British poet, author of five published volumes, and the recipient of an OBE.</p><p>Image: Joel Meyerowitz - untitled,, from the <i>Pack Series</i>, 1977, kodachrome, Pompidou Center, Paris.</p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-81687996260561389232023-11-24T14:16:00.000-08:002023-11-26T15:00:21.258-08:00Helen Torr: Little Boat<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RNoKUj7QyHWP6L5qJKxvGhYcH84cLxrRSliIqBcsgiksaEN3JZUkOS0NzB9sDz_Cj-vVjjjHZXR0H0kQEy9s3r8W68UsBUa51RFdRNFhztw9kT3wZxoqDHLsd-O9v-LxSi2O8RBJHK70ZTMlJLXIa0oIzEknn2xhzSJmqEed5dbOq_yXO6650XW6gXoK/s715/Helen%20Torr%20+%20Houses%20on%20a%20Boat%20+%201929%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Metmuseum%20+%20NYC.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="552" data-original-width="715" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9RNoKUj7QyHWP6L5qJKxvGhYcH84cLxrRSliIqBcsgiksaEN3JZUkOS0NzB9sDz_Cj-vVjjjHZXR0H0kQEy9s3r8W68UsBUa51RFdRNFhztw9kT3wZxoqDHLsd-O9v-LxSi2O8RBJHK70ZTMlJLXIa0oIzEknn2xhzSJmqEed5dbOq_yXO6650XW6gXoK/s320/Helen%20Torr%20+%20Houses%20on%20a%20Boat%20+%201929%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Metmuseum%20+%20NYC.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Where is the lambent light Long Island is fabled for? In Helen Torr's <i>Houses on a Boat </i>the sky lowers over turbulent waters, possibly a reflection of the artist's own uncertain future. Painted shortly before the catastrophic stock market crash that begat the Great Depression, five houses huddle precariously on a boat that can barely contain them. Seeing them as a metaphor is irresistible; however, I should add that Torr had a predilection for dark colors in the 1920s so tread carefully around this metaphor.</div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Helen Torr (1886-1967), a student of William Merritt Chase, married Arthur Dove who was friends with Georgia O'Keeffe. When Torr, whose nickname was 'Red', met Dove, both were married to others. But they soon left their respective spouses and, in 1924, set up home on a houseboat off the north shore of Long Island at Halesite. Throughout their life together, the couple suffered extreme financial hardships, basically living from hand to mouth. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Torr exhibited her work only twice, once at Alfred Stieglitz's American Place Gallery in 1933. Torr stopped painting after Dove died in 1946. Her wish to have her paintings destroyed after her death was ignored by her sister.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image - Helen Torr - <i>Houses on a Boat</i>, 1929, oil on canvas, Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC.</p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-36055373592909553452023-11-13T14:51:00.000-08:002023-11-13T14:51:47.899-08:00Diwali, Festival Of Candles And Light<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKcjscYYsT6JdLoO09abcw9BD8-dlXQ9-0lPR06Zxby0AoPGfAiODzRPiQ0DwnxevCJLfnHpCLq52RXb3bGo-B4qWuMZ4moHI7jSuwydihRUVBgdmb-WlcyA5e6XxqzaMdcZ3FmG1xUhjo03bUWdLKc64ti-B3FOlNRxwNAE_gQVU1Q94Nn64_UQ-cwl2/s633/Frantisek%20Kupka%20+%20Ordonnance%20sur%20verticales%20et%20jaune%20+%201913%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Pompidou%20Center%20+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="633" data-original-width="630" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkKcjscYYsT6JdLoO09abcw9BD8-dlXQ9-0lPR06Zxby0AoPGfAiODzRPiQ0DwnxevCJLfnHpCLq52RXb3bGo-B4qWuMZ4moHI7jSuwydihRUVBgdmb-WlcyA5e6XxqzaMdcZ3FmG1xUhjo03bUWdLKc64ti-B3FOlNRxwNAE_gQVU1Q94Nn64_UQ-cwl2/s320/Frantisek%20Kupka%20+%20Ordonnance%20sur%20verticales%20et%20jaune%20+%201913%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Pompidou%20Center%20+.jpg" width="318" /></a></div>"Even after all this time<p></p><p>the sun never says to the earth,</p><p>"You owe me."</p><p><br /></p><p>Look what happens</p><p>a love like that</p><p>lights the whole sky."</p><p><br /></p><p> - Hafiz (1325-1390), Persian lyric poet</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Image: Frantisek Kupka - <i>Ordonnance sur verticales et jaune</i>, 1913, oil on canvas, Pompidou Center, Paris.<br /> </p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-59678890585158671182023-10-31T13:25:00.005-07:002023-10-31T13:32:32.833-07:00Larger Than Life: The Flowers of Santido Pereira<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGGu3r8uoy1l9IgtE4h-DaVAtWpmpfnKQrIKlyGXrfCsi_y4OCfZNfcZkxlhLBk526krKcMt_2GNPtE5gkWBLrDpLBdkVjUstZnl259xCif9rNfnXBrodTuMvyjL2lq8aAab9uLq2IWmSdYw6Fkt93Afdc-2A0hsS9G8bbtWvhMbpJdkkj_4wRyaLXYtQ/s1920/Santido%20Pereira%20+%20untitled%20+%20wooden%20sheet%20%20offset%20with%20paint%20+%20Xippas%20Gallery%20+%20Paris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1280" height="312" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwGGu3r8uoy1l9IgtE4h-DaVAtWpmpfnKQrIKlyGXrfCsi_y4OCfZNfcZkxlhLBk526krKcMt_2GNPtE5gkWBLrDpLBdkVjUstZnl259xCif9rNfnXBrodTuMvyjL2lq8aAab9uLq2IWmSdYw6Fkt93Afdc-2A0hsS9G8bbtWvhMbpJdkkj_4wRyaLXYtQ/w208-h312/Santido%20Pereira%20+%20untitled%20+%20wooden%20sheet%20%20offset%20with%20paint%20+%20Xippas%20Gallery%20+%20Paris.jpg" width="208" /></a></div>"There are too many waterfalls, here, the crowded streams<div>hurry too rapidly down to the sea, </div><div>and the pressure of so many clouds on the mountaintops</div><div>makes them spill over in soft slow-motion</div><div>turning to waterfalls under our very eyes."</div><div> - excerpt from "Questions of Travel" in <i>Geogrpahy</i> III by Elizabeth Bishop, written shortly after she moved to Brazil in 1951.</div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;">The Brazilian artist Santido Pereira (b.1996) calls his print technique "incision, cut, and fitting." You can see the results in the bromeliad at left; for the past five years he has focused on the tropical plants of the Atlantic rain forests of northern Brazil. Bromeliads are said to symbolize thes human connection with nature, with its healing and regenerative qualities. Native to South America, they have stemless leaves and a deep calyx, and they are attractive to butterflies...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Composed of a wooden sheet and thick layers of paint, Pereira's engravings have spurred a renaissance in Brazilian prints. At the same time, his work honors the scientific tradition of botanical illustration which developed on the 6th century. Plant species are placed at the center of the page, seen against a neutral back ground.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Born in Curral Comprido, in the northern state of Piaui, one of the country's poorest, Pereira spent his early years in close companionship with nature; not surprisingly, his work is viewed through a lens of nostalgia. He trained at the Acacia School in Sao Paulo.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Santido Pereira in untitled (Bromeliad), wooden sheet offset with paint, dimensions estimated as being about 4' x 3', Xippas Gallery, Paris.</div><p></p></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-67225272480349338372023-10-15T11:11:00.000-07:002023-10-15T11:11:51.062-07:00Two Women Crossing A Field: One Of van Gogh's Last Paintings<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrT2xfgFaS72C1F2NPGbxPe2pZP3Dvqit46k3UI82GF-gofjhQZIFXWF5hR1m0FJGmCJg4F2tK1w8JGZ3NdtrzboImlYviAL-U3IYmHRdx_8I5ZWXmomhPGzAtWtCmUL0YVdSKYKM98ydMQVOq3siagzVLVWdYFuP1zWFvqLEYc46hQhZfLMu0wv_V6S2f/s800/Vincent%20Van%20Gogh%20+%20Two%20Woemn%20Crossing%20a%20Field%20+%201891%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20McNay%20Art%20Museum%20+%20San%20Antonio.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="800" height="269" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrT2xfgFaS72C1F2NPGbxPe2pZP3Dvqit46k3UI82GF-gofjhQZIFXWF5hR1m0FJGmCJg4F2tK1w8JGZ3NdtrzboImlYviAL-U3IYmHRdx_8I5ZWXmomhPGzAtWtCmUL0YVdSKYKM98ydMQVOq3siagzVLVWdYFuP1zWFvqLEYc46hQhZfLMu0wv_V6S2f/w533-h269/Vincent%20Van%20Gogh%20+%20Two%20Woemn%20Crossing%20a%20Field%20+%201891%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20McNay%20Art%20Museum%20+%20San%20Antonio.jpg" width="533" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"> Vincent van Gogh died in July, 1890 at age thirty-seven. During his last few months van Gogh painted dozens upon dozens of landscapes. In July he wrote to his brother Theo that had immersed himself in "the immense plain against the hills, boundless as the sea, delicate yellow." The young green wheat fields of May enthralled him, "vast fields of wheat under turbulent skies." He averred that his "canvases will tell you what I cannot say in words, that is, how healthy and invigorating I find the countryside." At the time he painted <i>Women Crossing a Field</i>, van Gogh had temporarily stilled the turbulence within him. There is a gentleness in his brush work, his chosen colors are harmonious, the scene is tranquil.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Vincent van Gogh - <i>Women Crossing a Field,</i> 1890, oil on canvas, McNay Art Museum, San Antonio.</div><p></p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-80151421980739001382023-10-02T14:13:00.003-07:002023-10-09T13:37:51.441-07:00Georgia O'Keeffe's Autumn Leaves<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSiMn7YIBDMHgIfwUlnyrCr6Udx1Dqv72cIiNWdW_QKDJXlp-y30BC2KX9gPOL2wQrUQ0w1vyg1RSBcmGJFrNAllIKVDXxz5cuy6TY-pvI6cXADPnPYht6m4WDG0lk1APFyXf1TD06A2UBCL4OQX03caOmErZsnqJxFMXYLl0DHjJITy-q9ztmM2yKc62/s524/Georgia%20O'Keeffe%20+%20Autumn%20Trees%20-%20The%20Maple%20+%201924%20+%20O'Keeffe%20%20Museum%20+%20Santa%20Fe.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="524" data-original-width="440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSiMn7YIBDMHgIfwUlnyrCr6Udx1Dqv72cIiNWdW_QKDJXlp-y30BC2KX9gPOL2wQrUQ0w1vyg1RSBcmGJFrNAllIKVDXxz5cuy6TY-pvI6cXADPnPYht6m4WDG0lk1APFyXf1TD06A2UBCL4OQX03caOmErZsnqJxFMXYLl0DHjJITy-q9ztmM2yKc62/w269-h320/Georgia%20O'Keeffe%20+%20Autumn%20Trees%20-%20The%20Maple%20+%201924%20+%20O'Keeffe%20%20Museum%20+%20Santa%20Fe.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"The falling leaves drift by the window,</div><div style="text-align: justify;">The autumn leaves of red and gold,"</div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"> excerpt from "Autumn Leaves," the English Lyrics by Johnny Mercer</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Hints of red and gold circle the center of this early (1924) painting by Georgia O'Keeffe. This one reminds me of some transitional works by Piet Mondrian, the familiar pared down to its most basic elements.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Twenty-one years later Joseph Kosma, a Hungarian emigre to France, under house arrest and forbidden to compose, teamed up with French poet Jacques Prevert to write <i>Les Feuilles mortes</i>, known in English as <i>Autumn Leaves</i>. It was recorded by Yves Montand and more than a thousand others, making it one of the most successful songs of the twentieth century. Kosma also wrote the scores for a number of French films, including Jean Renoir's <i>The Rules of the Game </i>(1939), regarded by many film critics as the greatest film of the century. A scathing satire of wealthy people oblivious to the clouds of war gathering on the horizon, its message was subversive so it was cloaked in a love story.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Georgia O'Keeffe - <i>Autumn Leaves - The Maple</i>, 1924, O'Keefe Museum, Santa Fe.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p></p></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-49496659996843452932023-09-21T17:40:00.003-07:002023-09-24T12:01:59.664-07:00Helene Schjerfbeck: Through My Travels, I Found Myself<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMFsOCOPT2k9rT3wkON_Xtk5pC1-8IAVUqDk1SPhWC3U9PHU5K9_LgAinMRZKagbN53l08Q-kce_ePqrCMC47-8J6oSvfLOZ8glgXqgKfHL1-PvmakTQGhU9UsgSrr-n8CE2gmaxxm2B6B5ZHlWEXbqc23skfvGHTUtJAW3Un6ZdLsurmpTMMuW31ZfLL/s813/Helene%20Schjerfbeck%20+%20Landscape%20at%20Hyvinkka%20Finland%20+%201914%20+%20Oil%20paint%20and%20charcoal%20on%20canvas%20board%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+Paris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="813" data-original-width="736" height="353" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdMFsOCOPT2k9rT3wkON_Xtk5pC1-8IAVUqDk1SPhWC3U9PHU5K9_LgAinMRZKagbN53l08Q-kce_ePqrCMC47-8J6oSvfLOZ8glgXqgKfHL1-PvmakTQGhU9UsgSrr-n8CE2gmaxxm2B6B5ZHlWEXbqc23skfvGHTUtJAW3Un6ZdLsurmpTMMuW31ZfLL/w320-h353/Helene%20Schjerfbeck%20+%20Landscape%20at%20Hyvinkka%20Finland%20+%201914%20+%20Oil%20paint%20and%20charcoal%20on%20canvas%20board%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+Paris.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Paring its elements down to near abstraction, this moody landscape shows its Nordic origins. Helene Schjerfbeck has been called "Finland's Munch" for her status as an early modernist. I fancy this as an autumnal scene, the colors muted by the retreat of the sun.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Best known for searching self-portraits, Schjerfbeck inhabited her landscapes with her pensive personality. A woman of contradictions, she was reclusive and at the same time a knowing follower of fashion. </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Helene's father gave her a pencil and Helene began to draw at the age of four while she was recovering from a broken hip...at eleven she won a drawing scholarship to the Finnish Art Society, the youngest student to ever attend the school.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">A grant from the Finnish government enabled her to visit Paris, launching her on extended travels around Europe, from Pont-Aven, Concarmeau in Brittany to Florence, limited only by her lameness and associated health problems. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">In 1902 she moved to the village of Hyvvinka, twenty-five miles north of Helsinki. She died in a sanatorium in Helsinki in 1946.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image: Helene Schjerfbeck (1862-1946) - <i>Landscape at Hyvvinka</i>, 1914, oil paint and charcoal on canvas board, Musee d'Orsay, Paris.</p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-45922783033177982302023-09-02T17:25:00.006-07:002023-09-24T13:31:26.959-07:00Shaken, Not Stirred: The Retro Cocktail Hour<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNES-G-ByZvhktR9EhymHZEVtTtcfUWqG4_IGl09NRdcudsA7sZPTlH68uz46DgPgTPhokhmrzC4utaEeWB6dsNRGPGHAvJofVnDGZ1-xJ2Q5sYosbjvYvClzncnB9Hw_VBBjwF0ePfipE1ibK7SbOo-kqo-Jx3TqTXgCogFcvKKBkcE70sZq-HNg5e1J/s758/Cocktail%20ensemble%20+%20Bamberger%20bequest%20+%20Newark%20Museum.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="618" data-original-width="758" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNES-G-ByZvhktR9EhymHZEVtTtcfUWqG4_IGl09NRdcudsA7sZPTlH68uz46DgPgTPhokhmrzC4utaEeWB6dsNRGPGHAvJofVnDGZ1-xJ2Q5sYosbjvYvClzncnB9Hw_VBBjwF0ePfipE1ibK7SbOo-kqo-Jx3TqTXgCogFcvKKBkcE70sZq-HNg5e1J/w364-h297/Cocktail%20ensemble%20+%20Bamberger%20bequest%20+%20Newark%20Museum.jpg" width="364" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">A heady mixture of gum-shoe jazz, space age pop, B-movie soundtracks, bossa nova, and all manner of musical exotica, Retro Cocktail Hour is hip, arch, and cool from a place that few would apply these adjectives to - Kansas! The program describes itself as being the home of "incredibly strange music." Hosted by Darrell Brogdon and a sultry-sounding woman with a tiki torch who says, "I'm the designated driver on the highway of Cool." </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Every program begins with the sound of a cocktail shaker in action. Said cocktail shaker is a fixture of the Underground Martini Bunker where the martinis are always dry. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">When stereo was introduced in the 1950s, it had to be sold to a public happy with the sound equipment they already had. Companies that sold both equipment and the records to play on it moved aggressively to promote it with in store demonstrations of sound moving from left to right and back. Stereo required to customers to buy new record players. A new musical genre was created to show off the new technology: RCA called its version "Living Stereo." This movement began in the 1950s so there had to be an underground bunker in there somewhere.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jazz musicians moonlighting under such bizarre names as the Waitiki Orchestra and the Italian Secret Service punctured any stuffed shirts who might wander in and also protected the reputations of the pseudonymous players, Latin percussion played a prominent role via such musicians as Perez Prado, Juan Esquival, and Tito Puente; it punctuated the fun while providing an antidote to the all too serious Cold War. Easily the most recognizable tune is the 1959 hit <i>Quite Village</i> by Martin Denny. Denny used almost entirely percussion instruments to exotic effect.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div>Contemporary practitioners of the genre include Big Kahuna and the Copa Cat Pack and my personal favorites - Pink Martini.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lately vinyl records are making an unexpected comeback, so everything retro is new again. Wonder where my Dual turntable is now.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can listen to the Retro Cocktail Hour <a href="https://www.retrococktail.org/" target="_blank">here</a>.</div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: unidentified maker - Cocktail ensemble, Bamberger bequest, Newark Art Museum, Newark, NJ.</div><p></p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-1147595992269759672023-08-22T09:50:00.000-07:002023-08-22T09:50:41.144-07:00Seongmin Ahn : An Artist Of The Diaspora<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_qlSJz56fovfSX_at3crvGLkvdEo6DCX4TeC8t3RyKx3YPywNEN6snIIobxxSs4Bkk1b-cxX-ZMSYWbntfi2mIqQexXcDJunT97563qI-Xzj1l3DzPbkWmq9cbEYep8P7DCLL0Bdc0cnZIn6L15napbfsFjFqw1P0-TN6_t6SS4g1k_A6RF9w_AAtoTP/s600/Seongmin%20Ahn%20Aphrodisiac%20%20+%202019%20+%20ink%20-%20%20pigment%20-%20wash%20-mulberrry%20paper.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="400" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_qlSJz56fovfSX_at3crvGLkvdEo6DCX4TeC8t3RyKx3YPywNEN6snIIobxxSs4Bkk1b-cxX-ZMSYWbntfi2mIqQexXcDJunT97563qI-Xzj1l3DzPbkWmq9cbEYep8P7DCLL0Bdc0cnZIn6L15napbfsFjFqw1P0-TN6_t6SS4g1k_A6RF9w_AAtoTP/w274-h412/Seongmin%20Ahn%20Aphrodisiac%20%20+%202019%20+%20ink%20-%20%20pigment%20-%20wash%20-mulberrry%20paper.jpg" width="274" /></a></div><span style="font-size: 18px; text-align: justify;">“In my paintings, by symbolic action and opening a drawer, two seemingly separate dimensions become integrated. It is a matter of how to find connection and openness.” -Seongmin Ahn</span><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 18px;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 18px;">Like alchemy, chopsticks pull noodles out of the waves against a background of Taoist indeterminancy.</span></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Untitled, sans-serif" style="font-size: 18px;">An immigrant, Ahn portrays the natural world, using Baroque ornamentation on familiar Asian subject matter like the waves and mountains here in <i>Aphrodisiac.</i> </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">Joining the two cultures, Ahn combines her artistic training in Korean black ink wash and color painting with Western influences from abstract art and conceptual art. </span><span face="Untitled, sans-serif" style="font-size: 18px;">In bold compositions and areas of saturated color, her painting style also reflects the influence of <i> minhwa </i></span><span face="Untitled, sans-serif" style="font-size: 18px;"> Korean folk art that reached its greatest popularity during the 19th century of the Chosŏn dynasty (1392–1910).</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Untitled, sans-serif" style="font-size: 18px;">Ahn was born in South Korea where she studied art at Seoul National University. She</span><span face="Untitled, sans-serif" style="font-size: 18px;"> now lives in New York City, </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span face="Untitled, sans-serif" style="font-size: 18px;">Image: Seongmin Ahn - <i>Aphrodisiac</i>,2019, ink, pigment, and wash on mulberry paper, Courtesy of the artist's website.</span></p></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-92092150160715997382023-08-11T16:11:00.007-07:002023-08-11T16:14:20.987-07:00Andre Devambez: Crepuscule<p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfD7CJTy29lNYtxcE0fSyTmzKDWALb3g2_bJuiI8pngbgMJbKwdh6euFjOk5du8VzcDz11BMpCaHNifJ-X5rFpXCCOirObWe0-dv54mRA_o2BbQYceDLdQFXBgP4DE2nOG-hZgM2jlZYYLIxPlHB-qOmUeSBpwnCEqYw7AgoScRWgSpld1RHXozQ8e_1PO/s1216/Andre%20Devambez%20+%20Procession%20at%20Twilight%20+%201902+pastel%20on%20canvas%20+%20%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Paris.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="477" data-original-width="1216" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfD7CJTy29lNYtxcE0fSyTmzKDWALb3g2_bJuiI8pngbgMJbKwdh6euFjOk5du8VzcDz11BMpCaHNifJ-X5rFpXCCOirObWe0-dv54mRA_o2BbQYceDLdQFXBgP4DE2nOG-hZgM2jlZYYLIxPlHB-qOmUeSBpwnCEqYw7AgoScRWgSpld1RHXozQ8e_1PO/w598-h235/Andre%20Devambez%20+%20Procession%20at%20Twilight%20+%201902+pastel%20on%20canvas%20+%20%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Paris.jpg" width="598" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i>Procession at Dusk</i> is a pastel by French artist Andre Devambez. A twilight procession of monks is observed from afar as they move towards the lighted windows of the monastery. This scene is both solemn and poetic. Its composition emphasizes the glow of candles in the distance, looking like fireflies, while the setting sun is mirrored by the tree trunks in the foreground. They contrast with the bluish tones of the evening landscape, rendered in sfumato. The summery cast of the landscape suggests a date near the Feast of the Assumption. It is possible that its conception dates from the time Devambez was resident in Italy.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">This work sheds a new light on Devambez's early career. Known for his bird's-eye views and steep perspectives that earned him the nickname "painter of the 6th floor." However this pastel testifies to his predilection for gathering scenes that are observed in a detached mannerThis work is therefore unique in his oeuvre. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">André Devambez was born in Paris and grew up in the world of Maison Devambez, the family engraving and publishing business founded by his father. Andre showed an early interest in drawing and soon enrolled in the École des Beaux-Arts in Paris. He was awarded the Prix de Rome which allowed him to perfect hiscraft at the Villa Medici in Rome. On returning to Paris, Devambez his bird's-eye views revealed his innovative framing. At the same time, he workedr as an illustrator for magazines such as <i>Le Figaro illustré</i> and <i>l'Illustration</i>. In 1910, he was invited to create decorative panels for the new French Embassy in Vienna. A true jack-of-all-trades, painter, engraver and illustrator his work includes serious and light subjects.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Purchased last year from a private collector by the Musée d'Orsay, <i>Procession at Dusk</i> is a large pastel on canvas by André Devambez (1867-1944). As one of the rare works from the beginning of the artist's career, this 1902 pastel will be included in the exhibition 'Pastels. From Millet to Redon.'</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image: Andre Devambez - <i>Procession at Twilight</i>, 1902, pastel on canvas, Musee d'Orsay, Paris.</p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-39541820954115542822023-07-23T15:28:00.004-07:002023-07-23T15:31:38.052-07:00Ernest Chaplet: A Porcelain Life<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQEhyBi_MICkzpghIFqCJVC2XYgac_tQAizbEbSC7iUk1KiEoALzfdr5tg-abD7y2vCH9HgFTaW5ZtOdhf5Zge_94AmkxwM04WKKCMlP9Ai0rph-hSOiX38TsybeJ5xch4sCACoDllMFuZKVqdLiVEGbzccHeBN3Rg5UY9-P2vKe7I6TO2u4TvMXQRw1l/s500/Ernest%20Chaplet%20+%20Vase%20with%20Japonist%20decor%20+%20between%201883-1885%20+%20gray%20sandstone%20molded%20and%20engraved%20with%20gold%20+Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Paris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="344" height="461" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgQEhyBi_MICkzpghIFqCJVC2XYgac_tQAizbEbSC7iUk1KiEoALzfdr5tg-abD7y2vCH9HgFTaW5ZtOdhf5Zge_94AmkxwM04WKKCMlP9Ai0rph-hSOiX38TsybeJ5xch4sCACoDllMFuZKVqdLiVEGbzccHeBN3Rg5UY9-P2vKe7I6TO2u4TvMXQRw1l/w317-h461/Ernest%20Chaplet%20+%20Vase%20with%20Japonist%20decor%20+%20between%201883-1885%20+%20gray%20sandstone%20molded%20and%20engraved%20with%20gold%20+Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Paris.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"In such a porcelain life, one like to be sure that all is well, lest one stumble upon one's hopes in a pile of broken pottery." - Emily Dickinson</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">In this marvelous vase designed by Ernest Chaplet (1835-1909) I see so much detail integrated so harmoniously. The choice of blue for the flowers is unexpected. The vase is molded and glazed with colored highlights. At center is a hen with her chicks and a cockerel incised into the sandstone. The design was taken from a series of Japanese woodblock prints <i>Kacho sansui zushiki</i> or <i>Drawings of flowers, birds, and landscapes</i> by Katsushika Isai (1821-1880), a pupil of Hokusai. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Cite de la ceramique</i>, French museum of ceramics was founded in 1824, eleven years before Ernest Chaplet was born in Sevres. His parents owned a cabaret and, by all accounts, the boy had a happy childhood. At age thirteen, Ernest became an apprentice at the porcelain factory. Later he was put to work decorating everyday earthenware while doing his compulsory military service.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Chaplet would become the supervisor of Haviland et Cie in 1882. The Haviland Brothers, David and Daniel, founded their eponymous company in France to produce porcelain for export to America. The company, and specifically Ernest Chaplet, was instrumental in the revival of the use of stoneware in the late 19th century. Felix Bracquemond discovered a set of Isai's drawings at a painter's studio in Paris in 1865. Two years later, after seeing the <i>Exposition Universelle </i>in Paris, Chaplet opened an experimental studio in the suburb of Auteuil where he put his friend Bracquemond in charge. This particular piece was the product of their long anf fruitful collaboration.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Ernest Chaplet (1835-1909) - vase with japonisme decorations, circa 1883-1885, gray sandstone molded and engraved with gold, Musee d'Orsay, Paris.</div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-30778823650503673292023-07-15T17:05:00.000-07:002023-07-16T09:49:05.531-07:00August Morisot: Cathedral of the Pines<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsGtWLqoXbtY3dkv04DkEhnQ14SJJUT8upZGPcHrkYu0BbXH3VS4d0OBhNqJp5LJDfZvuSWmXFTcYTGz7kq4gOUark95baxaoL5vXciztBuDFNq-ASdxjbZxoG88qYJrLENaBIvCEUs46aX2GBgM5Md0so5iBM-SBZqOoecYO7lZTV4ylhFHwEgSRvK4nQ/s496/August%20Morisot%20+%20Le%20grand%20bois%20+%20circa%201917%20+%20watercolor%20-%20pen-%20black%20ink%20-%20gouache%20-%20on%20beige%20cardboard%20+Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Paris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="496" data-original-width="353" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsGtWLqoXbtY3dkv04DkEhnQ14SJJUT8upZGPcHrkYu0BbXH3VS4d0OBhNqJp5LJDfZvuSWmXFTcYTGz7kq4gOUark95baxaoL5vXciztBuDFNq-ASdxjbZxoG88qYJrLENaBIvCEUs46aX2GBgM5Md0so5iBM-SBZqOoecYO7lZTV4ylhFHwEgSRvK4nQ/w332-h466/August%20Morisot%20+%20Le%20grand%20bois%20+%20circa%201917%20+%20watercolor%20-%20pen-%20black%20ink%20-%20gouache%20-%20on%20beige%20cardboard%20+Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Paris.jpg" width="332" /></a></div>"I hear you call, pine tree, I hear you on the hill, by the silent pond<div>where the lotus flowers bloom, I hear you call, pine tree.</div><div>What is it you call, pine tree, when the rains fall, when the winds</div><div>blow and when the stars appear, what is it you call, pine tree?</div><div>I hear you call, pine tree, but I am blind and do not know how to</div><div>reach you, pine tree. Who will take me to you, pine tree?"</div><div> - "I Hear You Call, Pine Tree" by Yoni Noguchi</div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="text-align: justify;">Half a century after </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Japonisme </i><span style="text-align: justify;">took </span><i style="text-align: justify;">tout </i><span style="text-align: justify;">Paris by storm, the artist August Morisot interpreted the woods of southwest France using what he had learned from </span><i style="text-align: justify;">ukiyo-e</i><span style="text-align: justify;">, "art of the floating world,' its flatness and the high stylization of its constituent elements. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">This is <i>Le Grand Bois</i>, the Meyriat Forest near Bourg-sur-Bresse where August Morisot summered with his family from 1904 to 1913. Deploying black ink with the precision of a goldsmith, he used shades of red and orange to pattern the leaves and their complementary colors of blue and purple for the shadows and forest undergrowth. Morisot's style has also been compared to Maurice Denis in its oscillation between the style of the Nabis and Art Nouveau.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">August Morisot (1857-1951) excelled in several media: painting, engraving, textile design, and even glass-making. A native of Burgundy, he studied at the <i>Ecole des Beaux-Arts</i> in Lyon from 1880 to 1885. He taught at his alma mater from 1895 until 1933 when he retired in 1933 and moved with his wife Pauline and his daughter Marcelle to Brussels. He died there in 1951.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Morisot was sent to the Orinoco Basin in Venezuela as part of a scientific investigation in 1886 by France's Ministry of Public Information; his job was to document the local flora and fauna. The effect light filtering through the canopy of tropical vegetation made a profound impression on Morisot, reminding him of Gothic windows. The journey was perilous and Morisot risked his life for it. He suffered violent fevers, resulting in a religious conversion. When he returned to France he converted to Catholicism. Jules Verne would use this expedition as the basis for his book<i> Le Superbe Orenoque </i>(1898). After 1900, his taste for symbolist literature led him to populate his forest landscapes with fairies; he wrote <i>The Voices of the Forest </i>about it.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Note: Yoni Noguchi ( 1875-1947) was the first Japanese poet to write poems in English.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: August Morisot - <i>Le Grand Bois </i>- circa 1917, watercolor, pen, black ink, and gouache on beige cardboard, Musee d'Orsay, Paris.</div></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-78423866021212026412023-07-02T13:19:00.006-07:002023-07-03T10:09:44.669-07:00Mood Indigo: Firelei Baez<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsbo7l5WKB81sgxsBzySPOoWH7Ubd4eYDwG2nW53JNUF6wYwNH4lrpJNEyHh2t3UxvRQY-3INYPZo7H6VTQJ_o1X7z6qJzvlGxU6EnBdEgB5nYLBXmuqC96QrKB5cf3h4f-1nLyAhJjeO8M0S8Efc6KG2Q6k4T5uHYySAXx-Y7PHxGsONHSz-ARyrDw/s1293/Firelei%20Baez%20+%20Haitian%20Mermaid%20%20-Describing%20the%20West%20India%20Navigation%20from%20Hudson's%20Bay%20to%20the%20River%20Amazones%20+%202023%20+James%20Cohan%20Gallery%20+%20NYC.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1056" data-original-width="1293" height="355" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEsbo7l5WKB81sgxsBzySPOoWH7Ubd4eYDwG2nW53JNUF6wYwNH4lrpJNEyHh2t3UxvRQY-3INYPZo7H6VTQJ_o1X7z6qJzvlGxU6EnBdEgB5nYLBXmuqC96QrKB5cf3h4f-1nLyAhJjeO8M0S8Efc6KG2Q6k4T5uHYySAXx-Y7PHxGsONHSz-ARyrDw/w435-h355/Firelei%20Baez%20+%20Haitian%20Mermaid%20%20-Describing%20the%20West%20India%20Navigation%20from%20Hudson's%20Bay%20to%20the%20River%20Amazones%20+%202023%20+James%20Cohan%20Gallery%20+%20NYC.jpeg" width="435" /></a></div><br /> "I started early - Took my dog - <div>And visited the sea -</div><div>The Mermaids in the Basement </div><div>Came out to look at me -"</div><div> - Emily Dickinson</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">We can intuit what Firelei Baez had in mind in this painting by reading its title (see below, it's quite long). Women were largely absent from epic narratives of the Caribbean basin; Baez has a repertoire of Caribbean and African folklore for inspiration. As Baez's title illustrates, conceptual art asks the viewer to connect the dots; it only takes imagination to find an underwater world within. Are there mermaids lurking near those white speckles (bubbles)? Are those green splotches underwater shadows reflecting light from above? Whatever we read into the paint daubs, they are rendered as scumbling as viewed under a microscope. Baez has declared that, for her, the imagery comes out of the application of the paint to the canvas.</div><div><p style="text-align: justify;">Firelei Baez was born in 1981 in the Dominican Republic and her family moved to Miami when Firelei was eight. She studied art at Hunter College and Cooper Union in New York City where she now lives in the Bronx.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Baez traces descent from Haiti and Dominica, two countries that share the island of Hispaniola. Haiti, on the western side was colonized by France while the Dominican Republic was controlled by Spain so there is no single narrative that encompasses these two very different variants of colonization. (Think of the contrast between the neighboring states of Georgia and Florida, the one settled by the British and the other colonized by the Spanish). The cultivation of indigo was key to the economic development of Haiti; tobacco and sugar were also extremely significant exports. The process to turn the plant into a dye was developed in West Africa, a history that Baez knows by heart. For her, the underwater world is blue, indigo blue.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image: Firelei Baez - <i>Haitian Mermaid - Describing the West Indian Navigation from Hudson's Bay to the Amazonas</i>, 2023, oil and acrylic on archival printed canvas, 73 7/8 x 60 7/8 in., James Conan Gallery, NYC.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p></div>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-17080587813066413712023-06-23T09:27:00.003-07:002023-06-23T09:27:43.909-07:00Adam Zagajewski: And That Is Why<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTfxqB1sJV6_YktiECYXi5MLSGXLOgNO6WVSJTHhoGbg4QQYu-Du4moe4Ef6dOGlJgGhwN6FYXFRvlYioDxGhr-FrYuvuUW6wQks1Khr8XAdrdx1IS61Sim1Wpyxh9pBPdM007XX2ozx5dbasMyvdBm_p_bm3TulQerJunQPTU8sI8Shu5d9-MGINTpV_/s758/Sophie%20Crespy%20+%20gallery%20interior%20at%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Grand%20Palais%20+%20Paris.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="505" data-original-width="758" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaTfxqB1sJV6_YktiECYXi5MLSGXLOgNO6WVSJTHhoGbg4QQYu-Du4moe4Ef6dOGlJgGhwN6FYXFRvlYioDxGhr-FrYuvuUW6wQks1Khr8XAdrdx1IS61Sim1Wpyxh9pBPdM007XX2ozx5dbasMyvdBm_p_bm3TulQerJunQPTU8sI8Shu5d9-MGINTpV_/w418-h278/Sophie%20Crespy%20+%20gallery%20interior%20at%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+%20Grand%20Palais%20+%20Paris.jpg" width="418" /></a></div><br /><p> "And that is why I paced the corridors</p><p>Of those great museums</p><p>Gazing at paintings of a world</p><p>In which David is blameless as a boy scout</p><p>Goliath earned his shameful death</p><p>While eternal twilight dims Rembrandt's canvases,</p><p>The twilight of anxiety and attention</p><p>And I passed from hall to hall</p><p>Admiring portraits of cynical cardinal</p><p>In Roman crimson</p><p>Ecstatic peasant weddings</p><p>Avid players of cards or dice</p><p>Observing ships of war and momentary truces</p><p>And that is why we paced the corridors</p><p>Of those renowned museums those celestial palaces</p><p>Trying to grasps Isaac's sacrifice</p><p>Mary's sorrow and bright skies above the Seine</p><p>And I went back to a city street</p><p>Where madness pain and laughter persisted - </p><p>Still unpainted."</p><p style="text-align: justify;"> -"And That Is Why" by Adam Zagajewski, from <i>True Life</i>, New York, Farrar. Straus and Giroux: 2023.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">For Adam Zagajewski, the past is always present in everyday life and, as this poem eloquently lays out, nowhere is this fact more visible than in museums. The past isn't dead; it may not even be past.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The poet Adam Zagajewski (1945-2021) was born in Poland and died in Poland; however he lived in Berlin, then Germany, moved to France in 1982 and later taught at universities in the United States.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image: Sophie Crespy - photograph of a gallery at the Musee d'Orsay in Paris, courtesy of Grand Palais, Paris.</p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-51608327125028406232023-06-09T11:33:00.007-07:002023-06-15T14:02:11.296-07:00Chatelaine: The Stories of Hilma Wolitzer<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgQ2IkOp-cCFkwismY0xZT5MMMzzI8GbZQl7SKJjUFYudIyxX6kILzysAj6TH-znIxCyAkTJRIxGUxFbUTUIOyD9UjdOH3QphNDnOnThjyvBEkT7z5s81_U0UStsxYC-jzTkmFzTu-2HyLVvVay8Hq6jd61ZAvMdfPuPSbi5fULlK_VDHWtrdbZ9fQQ/s560/Susan%20Hall%20+%20New%20York%20Portrait%20+%201970%20+acrylic%20and%20graphite%20pencil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Whitney%20Museum%20+%20NYC.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="560" data-original-width="500" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsgQ2IkOp-cCFkwismY0xZT5MMMzzI8GbZQl7SKJjUFYudIyxX6kILzysAj6TH-znIxCyAkTJRIxGUxFbUTUIOyD9UjdOH3QphNDnOnThjyvBEkT7z5s81_U0UStsxYC-jzTkmFzTu-2HyLVvVay8Hq6jd61ZAvMdfPuPSbi5fULlK_VDHWtrdbZ9fQQ/w327-h366/Susan%20Hall%20+%20New%20York%20Portrait%20+%201970%20+acrylic%20and%20graphite%20pencil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Whitney%20Museum%20+%20NYC.jpeg" width="327" /></a></div>"Some women marry houses."<p></p><p> - excerpt from "Housewife" by Anne Sexton</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The housewife as chatelaine, as mistress of an establishment, was the 20th century successor to the woman who produced the goods and services needed to sustain the 19th century family, the one who was lionized by Catharine Beecher in her influential book <i>The American Woman's Home</i> written with her sister Harriet Beecher Stowe and published in 1869. First published in 1883, <i>Ladies' Home Journal</i> would become one of the most successful magazines of 20th century America by appealing to newly affluent middle class wives who saw themselves as home managers and consumers.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">These are the women who populate the droll stories of Hilma Wolitzer, newly reissued as <i>Today A Woman Went Mad in the Supermarket</i>, published by Bloomsbury. But make no mistake, Wolitzer's gimlet eye misses none of the pitfalls and contradictions of the post-war housewife. About her own years as a domestic engineer, Wolitzer has said: "I made a lot of Jell-O."</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Recurring characters Howard and Paulette "married in those dark ages before legalized abortion." When Paulette announces her pregnancy to Howard, "all I could really feel was the doombeat of his heart and the collapsing walls of his will." That's how it was then. So, too, in "Photographs' Paulie, as Howard calls her, reflects, "The doctors in my life were of the old-fashioned tongue-depresser variety, who probably accepted kickbacks on unnecessary, but lawful, hysterectomies." That, too, is how it was.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">The emotional complications and displacements of sex at mid-century even extend to retirement living. This from "The Sex Maniac: "Everybody said there was a sex maniac loose in the complex, and I thought - it's about time." There are many sightings but no actual encounters. "There had been an invasion of those widows lately as if old men were dying off in job lots." The piercing gaze of Hilma Wolitzer remains as fresh as it was in 1970s and 1980s when most of these stories first appeared.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Susan Hall (b. 1943) is an American artist who was born in Port Reyes Station, California and attended the University of California, Berkeley.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image; Susan Hall - <i>New York Portrait</i>, 1970, acrylic and graphite pencil on canvas, Whitney Museum of American Art, NYC.</p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-36129093874173586632023-05-29T13:46:00.005-07:002023-06-03T18:06:40.122-07:00Yvonne Jacquette: Up/Down/Inside/Out<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp1Xh_tPpENDjOjitanGOiJh9x5IGDluLDz28jeT2Jwu_GhMVd8mA5zblOrcGD-eyKxIqOwBQzR_eaM-V0TvMob2XcQW_RoqSYDEnVZrGjyWS5YJVU8L120QtnbzSgeQRqbnzSRWXzxWoIRi-by6MXH3o2M8AVGHagy-SQPrziCJBW9ge81YQyCs1fpQ/s1008/Yvonne%20Jacquette%20+%20Film%20Cans%20+%202020%20+oil%20on%20linen%20+%20D%20C%20Moore%20Gallery%20+%20NYC.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1008" data-original-width="614" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp1Xh_tPpENDjOjitanGOiJh9x5IGDluLDz28jeT2Jwu_GhMVd8mA5zblOrcGD-eyKxIqOwBQzR_eaM-V0TvMob2XcQW_RoqSYDEnVZrGjyWS5YJVU8L120QtnbzSgeQRqbnzSRWXzxWoIRi-by6MXH3o2M8AVGHagy-SQPrziCJBW9ge81YQyCs1fpQ/w245-h402/Yvonne%20Jacquette%20+%20Film%20Cans%20+%202020%20+oil%20on%20linen%20+%20D%20C%20Moore%20Gallery%20+%20NYC.jpg" width="245" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The artist Yvonne Jacquette died on April 23 at the age of eighty-eight. She had participated in planning a new exhibition that combines early and recent work and is now on view at the D.C. Moore Gallery in New York City.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jacquette's aerial views earned her the sobriquet "Canaletto of the skies" after the Venetian painter famed for his topographical views. Like Canaletto, The line between what is real and what is imaginary is shifting. Typically, she built layer over layer of shifting perspectives. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Film Cans</i> is a rare still life, an unusual subject for Jacquette, rendered from an oblique angle that evokes for me the works of Chinese artists of the past two millennia. Of course, the humble film can is usually dark gray but the addition of many other colors hints at the varied marvels witin.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jaquette depicted Manhattan from a rented airplane, circling the island; sometimes she worked from a perch on the upper floors in the Empire State Building. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Jacquette was married for four decades to Swiss filmmaker Rudy Burckhardt until his suicide in 1999.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Image: Yvonne Jacquette - <i>Film Cans</i>, 2020, oil on linen, D.C. Moore Gallery, NYC.</div><p></p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-83032440540835219912023-05-21T15:00:00.001-07:002023-05-21T15:00:26.598-07:00Flowers Under a Tree: Paul Georges & Gustav Klimt<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsy4DHAxsC9_CJhX8feDknaUqwfK8rbhnI2bWm830kJ_gQIRcXwRE6OZM2Pi7v0tSTsn0FCvorXpQEVtWeVJdq7GY0M-OHXeNzgfOGoVoAgkRwRI2YnkxRRohA0cj760B8DEw25WlGPGy97d1lj3VrZspz1bePzDcuPDE4xGVvgqXwCjwZ7-eB_d1LlQ/s705/Paul%20Georges%20+%20Calla%20Lilies%20+%201987-89%20+%20oil%20on%20linen%20+%20Simon%20Lee%20Gallery%20+%20London.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="705" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsy4DHAxsC9_CJhX8feDknaUqwfK8rbhnI2bWm830kJ_gQIRcXwRE6OZM2Pi7v0tSTsn0FCvorXpQEVtWeVJdq7GY0M-OHXeNzgfOGoVoAgkRwRI2YnkxRRohA0cj760B8DEw25WlGPGy97d1lj3VrZspz1bePzDcuPDE4xGVvgqXwCjwZ7-eB_d1LlQ/s320/Paul%20Georges%20+%20Calla%20Lilies%20+%201987-89%20+%20oil%20on%20linen%20+%20Simon%20Lee%20Gallery%20+%20London.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">The American painter Paul Georges (1923-2002) studied with Fernand Leger in Paris from 1949 to 1952 While there he met his future wife Lisette Blumenfeld at the studio of Constantine Brancusi.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Before that, in 1947, he was one of a stellar class that studied with Hans Hoffmann at Provincetown. Jane Frielicher, Wolf Kahn, and Larry Rivers all became fast friends that summer.</p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">Georges is be</span><span>tter known for his allegories and self-portraits but I was taken with </span><i>Calla Lilies </i><span>by its echoes (deliberate or by chance) to a famous landscape by the Austrian Gustav Klimt. The composition is similar and so are the colors; here Georges has chosen more angular, spiky or, if you look aslant, abstract forms. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;">Before that, in 1947, he was one of a stellar class that studied with Hans Hoffmann at Provincetown. That summer Jane Freilicher, Wolf Kahn, Larry Rivers, and Georges all became fast friends at the Cape Code summer school.</p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">His paintings are in the collections of numerous major museums are color and sound the United States. Georges died at his home in Isigny-sur-Mer, Normandy.</span> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7U9lByA5EgibQZF2ajYwj2aBgH4pjn6cNUlPTvH2-gL6HE93G8gotRho9gK3NXd-l0mLlUQV4yRuZtEWkvUjAWbnh-Xox9KsBSNNJcdmQH-dztz1JbFh8sJk1GONapjgeWq_XQ5cnOrFt1FKeDBJrQxXJ4EI-HWmAmlhu5MSIN0YByEtoE261vBEsA/s600/Gustav%20%20Klimt%20+Rose%20Bushes%20under%20the%20Trees%20+%20circa%201905%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+Paris.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="591" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu7U9lByA5EgibQZF2ajYwj2aBgH4pjn6cNUlPTvH2-gL6HE93G8gotRho9gK3NXd-l0mLlUQV4yRuZtEWkvUjAWbnh-Xox9KsBSNNJcdmQH-dztz1JbFh8sJk1GONapjgeWq_XQ5cnOrFt1FKeDBJrQxXJ4EI-HWmAmlhu5MSIN0YByEtoE261vBEsA/s320/Gustav%20%20Klimt%20+Rose%20Bushes%20under%20the%20Trees%20+%20circa%201905%20+%20oil%20on%20canvas%20+%20Musee%20d'Orsay%20+Paris.jpg" width="315" /></a></div><p><span style="text-align: justify;">In </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Rose Bushes Under the Trees </i><span style="text-align: justify;">(1904-1905), the focus is also on color and simplified forms, vibrant greens and flattened forms that mesmerize the viewer's eye with repeating decorative patterns. Klimt's brush work is fluid and circular, suggesting the invisible presence of a passing breeze. </span></p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">I like to think that Georges may have seen Klimt's painting, in reproduction if not in person.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">Images:</span></p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">1. Paul Georges - <i>Calla Lilies</i>, 1987-1989, oil on linen, Simon Lee Gallery, London.</span></p><p><span style="text-align: justify;">2. Gustav Klimt - <i>Rose Bushed Under the Trees</i>, circa 1904-1905, oil on canvas, Musee d'Orsay, Paris.</span></p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-27244654476403060742023-05-13T11:17:00.003-07:002023-05-13T11:17:48.134-07:00Albert Gleizes: Lazy Afternoon<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcpSTyQunxeyQxMo5ZNENCiaa7LhmAL-i5k7WLS_zDu_9ZZmJSDReHzIouQK0q4HpWCTaAvGWw04d4Nn8QvFKofUtfAKegsgkN3BismpyfOAdKk6dFSgMBejmaWvp-1qs957hY6V8CR09tGMn5Z9ohU2E_6c82rnjjrQ-XSYfkL2MZ-KiiiO1Ev7IYg/s800/Albert_Gleizes,_1913,_L'Homme_au_hamac%20Man%20In%20A%20Hammock%20+oil_on_canvas%20+Albright-Knox_Art_Gallery,_Buffalo,_New_York.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="665" data-original-width="800" height="388" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcpSTyQunxeyQxMo5ZNENCiaa7LhmAL-i5k7WLS_zDu_9ZZmJSDReHzIouQK0q4HpWCTaAvGWw04d4Nn8QvFKofUtfAKegsgkN3BismpyfOAdKk6dFSgMBejmaWvp-1qs957hY6V8CR09tGMn5Z9ohU2E_6c82rnjjrQ-XSYfkL2MZ-KiiiO1Ev7IYg/w467-h388/Albert_Gleizes,_1913,_L'Homme_au_hamac%20Man%20In%20A%20Hammock%20+oil_on_canvas%20+Albright-Knox_Art_Gallery,_Buffalo,_New_York.jpg" width="467" /></a></div><br />"It's a lazy afternoon<p></p><p>And the beetle bugs are zooming</p><p>And the tulip tress are blooming</p><p>And there's not another human in view"</p><p> - Jerome Moross & John La Touche, lyrics for "Lazy Afternoon," a song written for the 1954 musical <i>The Golden Apple</i>.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Everything in <i>Man in a Hammock</i> means something, so there's a lot to decipher. Like every Cubist worthy of the name, Albert Gleizes plays fast and loose with traditional linear perspective - and it works brilliantly. The mobile perspective mimics the back and forth of a swinging hammock. A strong series of diagonals anchor the man to the moving hammock while, at the same time, merging him with the landscape. His right foot rests on a typical Parisian park chair. The eye is drawn to a small still life near his right hand - a table holds a spoon, some lemons, and a glass. As he holds a book in that hand by Gleizes's friend Alexandre Mercereau, this may be a portrait of his fellow artist; so, we can intuit the town in the background as Cretail. .</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Albert Gleizes (1881-1953) always insisted that <i>he</i> was the founder of Cubism. Unlike Braques and Picasso who used subdued colors in their Cubist works, Gleizes preferred to work in bright colors. Gleizes was inspired by the paintings of Alexandre Mercereau who exhibited his paintings in Moscow and Prague. The two men would collaborate in founding a utopian community a Abbaye de Cretail, a suburb of Paris.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image: Albert Gleizes - <i>L'homme au hamac</i> (Man in a Hammock) 1913, oil on canvas, 56 x 67.75 inches, Albright Knox Gallery, Buffalo.</p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1086588560855961894.post-78406914239785193042023-05-01T14:05:00.006-07:002023-07-16T10:28:50.305-07:00Winslow Homer: Working Girls<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNjHa8iTCMah2Xz7ZTUKIvy3dtG8HZJuQLxH7CT8bJstsTFWU6i7Xb0WNRrDpGBuMWN4NWkQ513elvmpAJI2m2b3xHFtf8ngx8LUABsKJIbxPYb3OI7THqp3vSW9UHtecxq6FMdb2v3CcLS0ljWXhNYVK7ijLuO_cOxqKHKcdKBfLgC5-6pgfY5iFZA/s557/Winslow%20Homer%20+%20Fresh%20Eggs%20+%20no%20date%20givern%20+%20watercolor%20gouache%20and%20graphite%20on%20wove%20paper%20+%20National%20Gallery%20Of%20Art%20+%20Washington%20DC.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="557" data-original-width="450" height="366" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPNjHa8iTCMah2Xz7ZTUKIvy3dtG8HZJuQLxH7CT8bJstsTFWU6i7Xb0WNRrDpGBuMWN4NWkQ513elvmpAJI2m2b3xHFtf8ngx8LUABsKJIbxPYb3OI7THqp3vSW9UHtecxq6FMdb2v3CcLS0ljWXhNYVK7ijLuO_cOxqKHKcdKBfLgC5-6pgfY5iFZA/w296-h366/Winslow%20Homer%20+%20Fresh%20Eggs%20+%20no%20date%20givern%20+%20watercolor%20gouache%20and%20graphite%20on%20wove%20paper%20+%20National%20Gallery%20Of%20Art%20+%20Washington%20DC.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">"He has chosen of the least pictorial features of the least pictorial range of scenery and civilization; he has resolutely treated them as if they were pictorial, as if they were every inch as good as Capri or Tangiers; and to reward his audacity, he has incontestably succeeded." - Henry James on Winslow Homer, from "Some Pictures Lately Exhibited." in <i>Galaxy</i> (July 1875)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;">I was taken with this farm girl's dress, its orderly rows of white dots dominating the center of the picture. The tools on the wall and the baskets and barrel form a pleasing diagonal line that opens the image out from the young girl at its center. And with what deftness the artist delineates the rooster in the lower right corner. <i>Fresh Eggs</i> nicely illustrates the decorative quality that appeared in Homer's pictures in the 1870s.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Young girls, usually outdoors, working as shepherdesses or dreaming under sheltering trees. Young women, often school teachers, making their way in the post-Civil War world as it slowly opened its doors to female education and independence. Winslow Homer possessed an instinctive sympathy for them all, perhaps influenced by his close relationship with his mother, Henrietta Benson Homer, herself an amateur watercolorist and Homer's first teacher.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Image: Winslow Homer - <i>Fresh Eggs</i>, 1874, watercolor, gouache, and graphite on wove paper, National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC. </p>Jane Librizzihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03943563452168571716noreply@blogger.com2