Hello and welcome to my blog. My name is Steven Sklyarevskiy and I am an 18 year old honor student at the Macaulay Honors College at Baruch College. As an honor student I am required to take part in absorbing the culture of New York City but as I progressed with my accumulation of knowledge and experience I began to notice a very interesting idea that shows up in countless mediums of art, death. Boiled down to a small idea, art is life. Art grows from the seed planted in the artist’s mind and takes root on a canvas, a stage, or even a laptop. This natural connection with life brings upon itself death because one side of a coin cannot exist without the other. Death can mean cold emptiness or even rebirth. Some people fear death and others embrace it as a part of life or a transition into new life. Come with me as I explore the art world and you may even run into a few ghosts.
December 14, 2011
December 12, 2011
Dead Preacher with Dead Dreams
Not too long ago I went to the Macaulay building to listen to David Mills’ presentation of Langston Hughes’ poetry and a short story.
The story was of a southern preacher who was consumed with greed and wished to perform a false miracle to seem like a saint.
He asked for the help of one of the nuns which whom he is having an affair.
He also asked for the help of one of the men from the choir, a man who he was not aware had a relationship with the nun that ended in heartbreak. The “miracle” he wanted to perform was a fake crucifixion by nailing in between his fingers and be reborn the next day.
The choirman let his envy get the better of him and actually nails into the preachers arms and crucifies him.
Mills contorted his face and changed his voice to speak from the perspective of every character. He finished his one man show with a dramatic reading of Langston Hughes’ “A Dream Deferred.”
Hughes presents an interesting idea; what happens to dead dreams? It is an artist’s job to give life to art and a person’s job to give life to dreams. Death would seem like a negative entity but also as new life.
Dead Museum
On October 11 I went to the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum with my friends Derek, Devon, Serge, Jessica, Kenny, and Raymond. We were excited to see the new temporary exhibits as well as the permanent installations.
We were unpleasantly surprised, however, to find out that part of the museum was under construction and therefore unavailable for us to enjoy. That did not stop us and we continued make our way up the rotunda stopping to look at the paintings that were still handing. I enjoyed a piece that was painted in Germany after the collapse of the Berlin Wall. It was a huge canvas with the logos of everyday items like Gain laundry detergent being swirled and mixed together. The visible message of cultural diffusion throughout Germany made the painting quite beautiful and definitely memorable. (I’d put a photo but the security at the Guggenheim was very adamant about their “no photos” rule)
The museum was so quiet, empty, and lacking in life. Without the colorful paintings and exhibits lining the halls it seemed as if the museum itself was dead. Even in “death” it was like the museum was the exhibit. A mesh of paper painted to look like a broken chain link fence guarded unavailable areas. Light installations in the hallway (as opposed to the natural light that would be present usually) were made to look like hanging lights you’d find in a mine. Colorful lines were put on the ground and on the wall to keep our attention at you move the dark and desolate hallways between exhibits. The sound of people discussing art was all but silenced as there weren’t many people who wanted to see an all but empty museum.
All in all, it was very interesting to go there while it was under construction because I’ve been there when it wasn’t. There were fewer paintings but that meant that you could really concentrate on the ones that were there and not get overwhelmed with the hundreds that are there usually. I could have done without the constant smell of paint though.
