Category — Critics’ Corner

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The Scottsboro Boys presents a horrifying account of racial struggle through a combination of comical entertainment and troubling revelation. The play follows one of the most racist forms of theatre, the minstrel show, and begins the story, in past tense, of apparent injustice and racism found a long time ago in the South. Most of the actors on stage were African-American, purposefully chosen to play an important role in this historical tragedy. The constant shifting of ethnic and gender roles by these African-American actors generate a different outlook, and point to the fact that the production represents the boys’ perspective throughout the events leading to their ultimate tragedy.

The musical begins by providing the audience with circus spectacles, immediately referring to the minstrelsy of the entire operation. The only Caucasian actor is the conductor of the show who often acts as a medium between past and present. This “Southern Gentlemen” consistently interrupts the overall emotional connection to the story, and often reveals just how far removed the audience is with the injustice that the story depicts. Aside from the provocative dance routines and humorous but cliché catchphrases, the boys continue to narrative a story that is serious, although there are joyous moments filled with laughter and uplifting chords. The “Electric Chair” displays the terrified boy prancing and dancing and eventually dragged around the chair, where the tempo is steadily increasing and the mood is ever changing. There are several instances where fear and joy are displayed, especially the White guards, played by African American actors, strutting around demonstrating their power over the helpless inmates who are destined to be guilty in the Southern courts of law.

The audience is often reminded that the emotions of fear and excitement are constantly pushed to its extremes, revealing that the trials and tribulations these boys experienced are more than a story, that the events the boys powerlessly witnessed actually happened in the South not very long ago. This spectacular musical portrays the unjustified and racist events of the past, a revelation that the audience continues to undergo until the very end. This idea of a show-within-a-show is further exemplified by the use of blackface makeup used by the African American members of the minstrel group. Now, this appalling sort of representation presents the constant oppression even the actors could not escape.

The greatest surprise of the show was the ingenious use of chairs to form the set. During each scene, the chairs are assembled in a different balance, which allows the audience to understand the shift in any one particular scene or moment. The actor’s use of imagination brings life onto stage, and truly adds credibility not only to the scene at hand, but also to the entire show.

To The Scottsboro Boys, bravo, bravo!

Innocent men await their deaths in jail, tortured by their traditional white Southern guard, with absolutely no escape. In the meantime, let’s do the cakewalk! Scottsboro Boys was a musical unlike any I had ever seen. First of all, it was the first I have seen that could be placed in the historical genre and showed factual events of America after the Civil War. Of course, because it is a play and therefore must be entertaining, details were warped and embellished, however the main idea of the play was rooted in harsh reality.

Eight black men and one black boy who are simply trying to change their lives and escape to better things are all illegally riding a cargo train. Two young white women are riding this train as well, and, when the police find them, they decide that if they pretend these men raped them, the officer will completely forget about the fact that they should not have been on the train in the first place.

This lie, which seemed small and insignificant to the racist white women, got these nine men thrown into jail and ultimately destroyed their lives. How could these be turned into entertainment, one might ask. Through the addition of catchy songs and dances, with great caricatures of all the typical figures found in Southern tales such as these, such as the white minister who attempts to present himself as pure and holy yet is still just as racist as the other Southern white men. The caricatures were honestly the greatest I have ever seen. Never did I imagine that I would see an African American man playing a white Jewish lawyer so convincingly. I found myself often forgetting that there was only one Caucasian male in the show, who acted as the emcee and interrupted the story to bring humor into it when it seemed to becoming too realistic and therefore too dark.

Because of these inserts, one almost forgets that the play they are watching is ultimately a tragedy revealing the horrific effects of racism on the lives of nine innocent men. By inserting song and dance into the story, the true implications of the tale hit hard when, at the end of the play, the fates of all nine men are announced. During this scene, aside from a solitary monotone voice, there is absolute silence. When this occurs, the humor and entertainment from the musical vanishes completely, and I left the theater with a sad sense of realization about the horrific events found in American history.

It’s ironic to consider that while I admittedly possess little artistic ability, I have a very critical eye for what I consider art to be. While some may label this knack as hypocritical, I consider it to be an inner voice a reason. Call me old fashioned, but in my mind the best art is that which possesses an identifiable subject, like the statue of David, or any other of Michelangelo’s works. You can only imagine then how I must have felt surrounded by various Jackson Pollacks and other abstract works at the Museum of Modern Art last week.

Before proceeding any further, I think it is important to point out that I have but one minor problem with the (no doubt) effort-filled, time consuming works that were on display: they aren’t art. (Of course, such is just my opinion and it’s impossible for me to prove the validity of such a claim, but I will make it anyway.) Perhaps my opinion has something to do with my long held belief that if I or my little eight-year old brother could produce a piece of equal or greater value then it ought to be classified not as art, but ‘a piece of work;’ it surely took a great deal of time and effort to produce many of the exhibited pieces and I believe that the phrase, “piece of work” (not ‘piece of art’), best captures the intentions of the artist whose work it is, and at the same time leaves a certain reverence for the successes of the artists in the past.

The first ‘piece of work’ that I came across was the two-fans exhibit at the base of the stairwell leading to floor number two. The piece, which featured constantly moving circular strips of material between two fans was certainly an attention-grabber. Was it creative? Yes. Did it pass the MoMLB (me or my little brother) test? No; and it certainly wouldn’t be the last piece to earn that distinction. Perhaps though more than any other section in the museum, it was the Barnett Newman display that I will remember the most. Newman, it appeared enjoyed very simplistic pieces, often only one or two colors were used along with his ‘trademark’ vertical line (how original). The room may as well have contained one painting as they seemingly all were reworks of the same concept. Worse than that though was the slovenly painted inch and a half wide by nine feet high piece of canvas that hung in the far right corner of the room. If that was art, then the molding in my house just needs to be turned upright, and I would have 4 Newman-esque works in each room of my house. Newman’s work though wouldn’t be the last that forced me to question my traditional artistic viewpoint, as nearly everything else that I saw made me ask myself the question, ‘Is this art, or not?’

As I left the museum on Thursday, if nothing else I learned that there are plenty of ways to look at any particular piece of work. Am I really as intolerant toward new forms of ‘art’ as the better half of my paper suggests? No, I am though very leery on those who suggest that anything can be art; ultimately it boils down to the one’s vantage point: art to you very well may not be art to me. Then again, it’s always good to expand one’s horizon, and the trip was no exception, I saw things I wouldn’t have ordinarily seen and am glad that I did.

Modern art is controversial. A lot of people hate it, claiming their infant sibling could create a canvass equivalent to those of Pollock or Newman. Maybe they could, I won’t bother to elucidate the technical details of most of these pieces. People tend to look at a persons art and life separately. Those who claim Jackson Pollock was a foolish drunk who drowned his life in a bottle and occasionally splattered paint on a board are differentiating between his life and work to a hypercritical and frankly illogical degree. Dislike of an artwork is not reason enough to ridicule the artist. For the most part abstract artists were the first of their kind, exploring new mediums and challenging old unspoken restrictions on painting, drawing and design. At a bare minimum these artists deserve a degree of respect and an acknowledgement for their part in the liberating of art.

Not everyone is a fan of red boxes and brown lines, abstract art is an acquired taste; it’s sort of the olive of the art world. The various subcategories of the trend vary so immensely that it is easy to love one work and hate another. I appreciate abstract art. The most extreme versions tend to shy away from my personal taste, I’m not big on hanging up a black canvass and calling it brilliant but someone saw some value in doing so, and others manage to enjoy it.

I have come to know the much of the permanent collection at Moma well, but it’s impossible to wander its halls and not find something that feels new. This time the first piece that stuck with me was “Glass in Snow” by Harry Callahan. Upon initial glass this photograph looks like some random black lines and squiggles thrown upon a paper but after adjusting to the lighting and soft shadows, you recognize the sharp shards of glass implanted in what you’re told is a bank of snow. What I found so appealing about the piece was the invisibleness of the shards, without the description one would have any idea that the figures were glass. It’s dangerous, and really beautiful at the same time. I found the image to be both refreshing and intriguing and Callahan’s other photos were of similar style.

The other piece I was impressed with was “Untitled” by Norman Lewis (1949). It’s an oil painting on canvas but completely different in design from any oil I’ve seen before. My taste in fine art is eclectic but when I draw or paint I prefer design as opposed to figure sketching. This piece is dark and fluid but with contrasting straight edges that don’t actually distract you from the smoothness of the piece. I like the mystery, it looks like it could be the background of a fantasy movie or the sort of thing you imagine while reading a dark novel.

Every time I visit Moma I do so from slightly older eyes. It’s interesting to note the pieces that I always love, the ones I lose interest in and the ones I see differently having since learned different things. Knowledge of an artist’s life can provide a new level of appreciation for his or her work while understanding of a time period can reveal subtle commentaries within a piece. Moma continues to impress me with its unique array of exhibitions and again its lovely permanent collection. I look forward to what it will offer next.

A simple suitcase is able to capture a single momentous time in history that is often forgotten. During the visit to the International Center of Photography, the first exhibit was “The Mexican Suitcase,” which reveals an honest and unaltered aspect of the Spanish Civil War. Upon entrance into the museum, the first visual stimulant was an image of a suitcase, containing rolls of film, purposefully enlarged and placed to introduce the entire exhibit. Upon entering the exhibit, the first photograph I witnessed was of the two photographers, Gerda Taro and Robert Capa. Their works were the focus of the entire exhibit, but the most alarming fact was that they were both romantically involved. This is a fantastic approach because it adds depth to an otherwise formal and plain exhibit. Additionally, it seems like even after death, the photographers Taro and Capa would be forever linked.

As I proceeded further and had the chance to see several photographs, I learned aspects of the Spanish Civil War that certainly would not be discussed in many history courses. The neat order in which photographs were presented in the exhibit kept me highly interested in the topic, and I was able to learn of the traumatizing events that people and nations endured during the war. Beginning with Capa’s photographs, I was able to understand his interest in the war. In his photographs, Capa was capable of embodying the soldiers and their daily activities in a harsh environment. Most importantly, Capa captured photographs of such warfronts, such as the Aragon Front, which revealed the barren and empty areas each soldier had to partake in. This photographer’s style reveals the empty and meaningless nature of the soldiers and the war. Personally, this made it easier for me to visualize and understand the full impact of a war, especially the Spanish Civil War. Another photographer, by the name of Chim, approached taking photographs of the war in a different light. Chim’s photographs presented at the exhibit display themes of religion and its role in the war. From this photographer’s vision I was able to comprehend the importance of religion, its rituals and prayers, to the soldiers. In addition, I learned that religion was intertwined with a certain type of culture found in war.

Although some photographs were easy to study, others were not because of the miniature size of the images. It was sometimes hard to understand what an image portrayed because I would have a difficult time differentiating between the shapes and colors. At certain points during the exhibit, the photographs were made into a collage that was aesthetically pleasing, but hard to distinct as an individual image. Another feature of the exhibit was the silent video documentary on the wall. This was a reasonable attempt to aid individuals during there time, but failed because of the lack of sound. Sound bites often complement our visual perception, and often serve as an effective tool. But this creative addition failed in its utility to further provide further information about the Spanish Civil War or the photographers.

“The Mexican Suitcase” exhibit was small, but powerful enough to convey the historical significance of the Spanish Civil War and life within it. This visit to the International Center of Photography was certainly a crucial part of the curriculum, as it pleasantly surprised me with its content filled with old documents and photographs from the war.

What is art? Is it a series of lines drawn strategically to create an image, or is it a series of lines randomly scrawled across a blank canvas? Is it a blatant image, or is it abstract? Is it a story of a person, or is it a story of emotion? The Museum of Modern Art gave me a glimpse of the wide variety of art that artists have to offer the world.

Upon entering, I saw a glass container holding soil and a few green plants. As simple as this structure was, I thought it resembled the essence of art in nature. I thought it was a clever piece of art right at the entrance of the MoMa, a small glimpse of the art that was to be presented once I passed the ticket holders and walked toward the galleries waiting for my viewing.

When I walked upstairs, I encountered a colorful array of empty food containers and household products stacked and splayed across a wall of white; this was George Maciunas’ “One Year.” It amazed me to see every item Maciunas ate or drank behind this glass display. Maciunas was the leader of the fluxus movement, where artists and music composers all over the world focused on anti-art and anti-music to subvert previous art traditions. The fluxus movement focused on each artist’s individuality and gave each artist the freedom to express his or her art in ways that were untraditional in the past. Maciunas took me by surprise by using organized food containers to use as art materials rather than the typical paint and blank canvas. It was a collage all on its own: Maciunas stacked his food item packages according to the product itself and made the heights vary in such a way that the peaks appeared to resemble the skyscrapers of New York City.

As I walked through the MoMa, I entered the Abstract Expressionism display subtitled “The Big Picture.” These artists aimed to create art that would “reassert the highest ideals of humankind” (MoMa). I noticed many of these abstract works resembled pain and destruction to refer to the war and Holocaust that occurred in the years prior to the movement. Jackson Pollock’s “The Flame” immediately caught my eye as I entered the gallery; the dark colors of black and red emanated fire and the black claw-like strokes resembled victims’ hands outstretched for help during the Holocaust. The oil paint on the fiberboard canvas seemed the painting texture the way flames have texture.

As I continued into the next room, I saw huge canvases with scarce strokes of lines. Barnett Newman was an artist who made paintings that “downplayed traceable signs of the artist’s hand” (MoMa). One particular work called “The Voice” featured a white canvas with an off-white line going down the right side of the painting. As I approached the painting to look at the strokes, it appeared as if the painting was a photograph, for it was completely smooth and I could not tell that it had been painted onto the canvas. All of Newman’s paintings varied in the colors used and the locations of these vertical lines. I noticed that in some of these paintings, the vertical lines were painted first before the “ground,” or the space behind the vertical lines, and others had the vertical lines painted after the ground was painted.

The next room was abundant in paintings with what appeared to consist of random splashes of paint on canvases. Jackson Pollock proved to be one of the most profound abstract expressionists in his time. He used paint pouring and drip techniques to cover his canvases in a completely abstract way. Although Pollock’s “Full Fathom Five” was one of his first pieces using drip technique, it appeared to be the most complex; I had to speculate the painting to see the nails and keys and cigarettes embedded underneath the oil paints. Incorporating these items into his work gave the painting more texture and dimension overall. His other works consisted of the characteristic drip technique he was known for and also varied in colors. Most of his works had the colors black and white in it to show extreme contrasts in the paintings. After seeing his characteristic drip technique paintings, I came across “Echo: Number 25, 1951.” It was completely different from his other paintings and seemed to have an abstract pattern to it. Using only black and beige colors, he created feather-like strokes on his canvas and elegant swirls. It gave the painting a whimsical, feminine touch, which was a vast difference compared to his other works.

As I walked into a room full of sculptures, I came across David Smith’s “Cubi X.” I really enjoyed looking at this structure because I could see the silhouette of a person walking mid-stride. There is a bit of irony with Smith’s use of stainless steel, a metal that does not easily bend; this structure depicts a person in motion, perhaps even dancing, and motion requires fluidity and movement, something that metal is not meant to do. I admire all of these artists, especially the abstract artists due to their vast creativity and vision in creating works of art that require viewers to look beyond what is displayed in front of them; I thoroughly enjoyed delving into my imagination to see what images I could fathom from these pieces of art.

From the first piece we saw at MoMA, “One Year” by George Maciunas, I knew that in order to enjoy this trip I had to abandon my previous notions of what art is. The Fluxus movement is contradictory in nature… an art form that promotes anti-art ideals. Their goal is to expand our definition of what art is and one must keep an open mind when taking in a piece such as this, which seems like just a collection of things piled up on a wall. Even though it is anti-art, I do see elements of traditional art in it. I can tell that each item is carefully thought out and placed, and as a whole makes a pattern of bright colors in an unexpected medium.

Once we got to the main exhibition of Abstract Expressionist Art, I found that the paintings I could appreciate most were the ones that were grounded in reality, and had elements of a face or a body that I could point out. Sometimes I couldn’t pick anything out upon first look, but was able to identify some things after reading the title and background information next to it. This made the experience feel like a scavenger hunt, it was fun to try to guess and find what the artist was trying to portray when he painted. I appreciate this about abstract art because in this way the realistic pieces are too easy, there’s more to this than just drawing what’s in front of you.

One painting I particularly enjoyed was by Adolph Gottlieb, entitled “Man Looking at Woman” (1949) I liked this painting because it uses simple colors, just greyscale with a bit of yellow and maybe a dull pink. There are squiggles and lines which i’m unsure of the significance of, if there is any. These surround the focus of the piece which, as the title would allude, is a man looking at a woman. They are drawn in an interesting way though; the whole piece gives the viewer an air of hieroglyphics. It must be difficult for someone in 1949, which are fairly recent times, to try to capture an art form that dates back to 4000BC but I think he is very successful in reaching his goal.

Another theme that I found in many paintings that texture. It was quite interesting how thick the paint is layered on some of these pieces, and how different colors are used each layer which serves to give a unique look to the painting. Many of them I found were painted using “oil and sand on canvas,” such as “Western Air” by Robert Motherwell. I took a close up of this painting to show what stuck out in my mind, which was the gritty and messy feeling of the painting which could probably only be achieved using the rough sand.

Overall, I had a great experience visiting MoMA. However, as much as I open my mind to what art is, I don’t think I’ll ever gain an appreciation for pieces like this one:

What is art? That was the question we were given when we had arrived at the Museum on Modern Art. Despite spending a couple of hours walking around, observing some of the most famous art works in the world, I left still not knowing exactly what art was. Art is subjective and that is the only answer to that question. What I find to be a masterpiece, you may find to be a piece of trash. And vice versa. Depending on each person, people find different meanings in different pieces of work. It is what you make of each painting or sculpture or drawing that makes it art.

MoMA introduced me to a wide variety of abstract art that I have to admit, seemed very odd to me. A white wall painted over and over in different colors? That’s art? A few swirly lines? That’s a masterpiece? I think I remember myself doing that same work when I was about five years old. Those are the types of thoughts that went through my mind when seeing works such as those. Barnett Newman was a main artist at the museum that had a whole room dedicated to his work. I couldn’t believe that his art goes for thousands of dollars. But that goes to show that art doesn’t have a definite meaning. I should not be criticizing someone who has major works in a museum such as the MoMA. Just because I don’t find his work to be powerful or interesting, that doesn’t mean others don’t either. Obviously people do if Newman is such an acclaimed and successful artist.

Although I have to admit that I wasn’t so amazed by a few of the paintings and other works of art that we saw at the MoMA, most of the pieces we saw I do consider to be art. One of my favorite artists I saw in the exhibit was Jackson Pollock. One thing I especially admired about his work is that his paintings have texture. He had depth in his art and it popped colors out at you that really grab your attention. “When I am in my painting, I’m not aware of what I’m doing. It is only after a sort of ‘get acquainted’ period that I see what I have been about. I have no fear of making changes, destroying the image, etc., because the painting has a life of its own. I try to let it come through. It is only when I lose contact with the painting that the result is a mess. Otherwise there is pure harmony, an easy give and take, and the painting comes out well.” -http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jackson_Pollock
As you can see from this quote by Jackson Pollock, he simply let’s his paint have a life of its own. He doesn’t think too much about what he is drawing. He just DOES IT! It is like he makes abstract art in an abstract manner of doing so. Nothing is organized or prepared. It is simply spontaneous and that is what makes his work so unique.

I think one of the greatest things about abstract art is that you can make the painting or sculpture what you want it to be. There is no concrete picture being portrayed so the viewer can observe the piece in his or her own way. For example, at one point in the museum Matthew and I walked by a sculpture that appeared to resemble some type of animal. Matt said it was a fish. I said it was a grasshopper. It turns out the name of the sculpture was “Australia.” Abstract art brings opinion upon itself and that is okay. We should all be able to find different images and meanings behind what we see.

I am definitely glad that we were able to go to the MoMA because it without a doubt opened up my eyes to the various forms of art in the world. And whether I agree with some or not, it is still good to know the variety behind the different styles.

My trip to the Museum of Modern Art was eye opening, to say the least.

Definitions of art on the Web:

• the products of human creativity; works of art collectively; “an art exhibition”; “a fine collection of art”
• the creation of beautiful or significant things; “art does not need to be innovative to be good”; “I was never any good at art”; “he said that architecture is the art of wasting space beautifully”
• a superior skill that you can learn by study and practice and observation; “the art of conversation”; “it’s quite an art”
• artwork: photographs or other visual representations in a printed publication; “the publisher was responsible for all the artwork in the book”
  wordnetweb.princeton.edu/perl/webwn

I was told that the “Abstract Expressionist New York” exhibit that we would be seeing did not conform to that standard definition of what art is. I cleared my mind of all prejudices against modern art before entering the museum, and was prepared for what I was about to bear witness to – or so I thought.

The first work of art that we saw was what, at first, looked like my high school research project on pressurization and fluids. Two fans, opposing each other, kept two thin metallic rings suspended in the air. I was amused. At first, I thought about how this could be classified as art, but then it dawned on me that it was inspiring, intellectually stimulating, and beautiful. It had to be art.

The two fans served as a precursor to what lie ahead. As we walked through the lower levels of the MoMA, I thought to myself “this isn’t too bad…” You see, in my pre-teen years, my parents tried to force me to like museums and art, and that inevitably led to my hatred of them. As a mature adult, however, my views changed. Even the abstract art had something in it that I could think about and appreciate. Sometimes, the work of art would be as simple as a white square, but upon close examination, the brush strokes, different shades of white, and artistic talent could be seen. It took some effort, and creative thinking, but most of what was on the first few floors of the MoMA was artistically inspiring.

Moving to higher floors in the museum means that you are moving towards more abstract art. The sixth floor had works that were still in the midst of debate – can they be considered art or not? Much of this floor had to do with physics – my favorite subject. Naturally, it appealed to me. Even if it is not considered art by some, it was certainly fascinating. From rooms filled with vector art, to videos of people scaling down buildings, and ending with digital maps of demographics, the exhibits made me feel like I was taking a tour of a truly modern museum.

When we talk about art, we usually associate it with oil painting, or some other sort of drawing. My definition of art was shattered when I was introduced to modern art. “The end-result may not be as important as the road taken to get to it” –Susanna Akopova. My mother’s words lingered in my head as I toured the museum. What we were viewing was the result of countless hours of work, effort, imagination, creativity, thinking, and talent. When you pour so many resources into one work, it is considered art. Keep an open mind, and you can appreciate that.

Courtesy of NYCBlogspot

What has happened to art? Why do we accept Picasso, Van Gogh, and Pollack’s work in galleries and museums? The value and price of art can be incredibly subjective, and walking through the Museum of Modern Art makes that even more apparent. Curators deem whether or not something has artistic value and can potentially resonate with the public. And while it is difficult to define “artistic value,” my waltz through MoMA’s abstract quarters left me disappointed.
When I was in kindergarten, I could have clustered randomized shapes and tracings together to substantiate a childish canvas. Later when I took an art class in high school I was able to define such works with a sophistic purpose. Through some vague pretense the viewer may find meaning in a visual sensation, but I don’t think that alone constitutes artistic value. There were paintings that drew esteem from the simple multitude of their strokes and the depth of their texture, but that is not all that is found in the contours of Pollack’s droplets or corners of Picasso’s cubic distortions; they reveal their creator, whether its their intoxication or their dark and pessimistic take on the world, the works are representations of their artists.
I think that this applies to any art form in general, whether it’s dance, poetry, singing, sculpting, or painting, the work should be able to define the artist.  A lot of the pieces at the museum fit this description. However, there were a few contemporary or controversial pieces that stood out, depicting the artist’s lifestyle and human struggle. George Maciunas’ “One Year” is a breathtaking exception. This is where simplicity, the abstract, and humanity intersect. When I first saw the wall of fever thermometers, Primatene mist, isuprel, imitation rum, cottage cheese, and grand union instant non-fat dry high grade milk I thought I was staring at an archaic supermarket alley. With further observation my eyes caught sight of the adjacent inhalers, and the products project a picture of a fragile man who suffered from allergies or disease. I didn’t need to read the curator’s description on the side to decipher the value derived from the piece.
Other works, such as the paintings of Jackson Pollack combine distortion, splatter, and a violent form of canvas abuse.
It is this sort of authenticity that was seldom found in MoMA’s abstract exhibit. There was a canvas covered with three virtually indistinguishable shades of black, separated only by the subtly contours of the brush strokes. Another work was a vertical one-inch narrow canvas painted with one stroke of red over gray straight down. The names of these so-called artists are not worth recalling, and carry little merit if they fail to evoke the persona of their creator.
The curator should pick works that create a composition within the room that has a collective and coherent meaning. When observing many of the works the viewer has to tediously inspect the bold descriptions beside the work that scavenges for purpose. MoMA has much to offer presenting some works that are both personally provocative