The naiveté and one-dimensionality of Verdi’s female characters (particularly Gilda) is rather obvious and likely a result of the extreme patriarchy of the time, but do you feel as if some of the same stereotypes persist in today’s media? Additionally, do you think that Rigoletto could have been improved if Gilda were a more developed, serious character?
I often find that as a result of my lack of musical knowledge, I am less able to recognize the extent of a performers talent than those who have been trained in the area. For this reason, is it not odd that Verdi, with his “commitment to the human voice”, would be more popular than Wagner who put a greater emphasis on emotional responses in his “music dramas”. I imagine that the general public would find it easier to me moved by Wagner’s emotional dramas than vocalists whose abilities were perhaps beyond their level of comprehension.
The Armory Show is like no other in that rather than displaying a cohesive curatorial job, it instead appears to be vast space in which ideas from different philosophies on art and the rapidly industrializing world are constantly ricocheting off of each other, leaving traditional, naturalistic works on one wall and revolutionary cubist canvases on another. The radical new art forms that the modern world inspired naturally brought about some stark opposition, however some responses were much more ambivalent.
George Bellows, an American artist, is a classic example. Having never traveled to Europe, the Armory Show was his first experience with European modernism. His recognition of the changing world is evident in the fairly contempo-
rary subject matter of his 1912 painting Circus, as well as his frequent paintings of metropolitan life. Circus demonstrates Bellows’ indifference to Cubism (he is quoted as claiming “They have arrived on the borderland of possible technical discoveries which may or may not be new and which may or may not be valuable.”, of the Cubists), but the emphasis on the beautifully expressive and glowing performer in the center explains his attraction to the vibrantly colored works of other modernists such as Auguste Renoir, Georges Seurat, Vincent van Gogh, Henri Matisse, and André Derain. Although the piece does not represent any revolutionary thinking, it nonetheless is a gorgeous snapshot of vertical, horizontal, and circular motion and modern life; a sort of functioning solar system with a compelling spritely sun at its center.
Similarly to Bellows’, Robert Henri’s intentions are difficult to discern. Henri, the leader of the urban realist Aschan school, painted Figure in Motion specifically for the Armory Show, departing from his characteristic subject matter. While he protested the restrictive standards of academic painting, it is obvious that he did not succumb completely to modernism in this painting. However, the title “Figure in Motion” seems to be a nod to other nudes in the show, such as Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 and Matisse’s Blue Nude, but his reaction is ambiguous. The soft, sensuous figure retains the same integrity as traditional nudes, but the subtle suggestions of motion, painterly strokes, and cropped hair lend a modern touch, placing him in the same ambivalent realm as Bellows.
The circulation of ideas that occurred during this era was obviously encouraged prolific experimentation amongst artists. In order to take advantage of the diverse influx of ideas, many artists began using paper in order to test their hand at these modern practices.
John Marin’s studies of the Woolworth Building were some of the most discussed pieces at the Armory Show and they perfectly demonstrate the capacity of paper (and watercolor, for that matter) to encourage experimentation. These watercolors are marvelous studies that apply the motion and musical quality of the city to a static structure, with generously abstracted results that reflect a contemporary aesthetic as well as modern subject matter. Marin’s brushwork evokes a sensation of pushing and pulling forces, a sensation that is reiterated throughout the Armory thanks to the whirlwind of ideas and opinions that were manifested in the revolutionary show.
The author discusses the incredible impact that the bird’s eye view from the Eiffel Tower had on citizens as well as artists, and likens it to the first photograph of Earth from space. Why do you think it is that after being able to perceive microscopic images, the art world has not been so inspired as it was during the beginnings of Moderinism? Are there any other variations in perspective we can hope for? Do such limits explain why we have shifted To a postmodern era of looking back and commenting on the past? Does this also suggest that science and engineering have the same responsibility to be accessible to the public, as in art, for both fields to thrive?
Even for a self-proclaimed artist living in New York City, Manhattan’s Chelsea gave me a serious case of culture shock. There is art behind glass doors, art seen through windows, art on intimidating white walls, and art on the streets themselves. The Chelsea Galleries are a series of intimate yet intimidating spaces which barely recall their colossal cousins the MoMA and the MET, but that makes it all the more exciting when you find yourself drawn to a particular piece/exhibit (I guess I like the thrill of the hunt?).
Dormitory, Model 1:5 by Martin Honert (http://www.artnet.com/artwork/426285836/706/martin-honert-dormitory-model-15.html)
I found myself particularly enthralled with one of Martin Honert’s pieces at the Matthew Marks Gallery, Dormitory, Model 1:5. My attraction to this piece begins with my affinity for dioramas, as I love the implied nostalgia and sense of wonder such little worlds create. Honert’s dormitory model is heavy with eerie nostalgia; the bareness of it recalls the unreliability of even the strongest memories, and the light which emanates from the furniture adds an interesting paranormal effect.
(http://www.e-flux.com/announcements/comma-21-martin-honert/)
Additionally, a close up proves that the piece is gorgeous in its own right. Honart’s rendering of the wooden surfaces and manipulation of the material into dimpled cushions is impressive and elevates the piece from simply a diorama to fine art.
There is no argument that Bidart’s “Herbert White” is, although rather unspeakably disturbing, a masterpiece with regard to storytelling and humanizing what would be the personification of evil. In this manner, it is definitely possible to say that the poem was a success, especially as Bidart’s attempt to describe the antithesis of himself. This was likely a successful adventure on a personal level, causing Bidart to fully understand himself before he could understand his opposite, but I wonder if it is an equal success in the grander scheme of things. That is, is there purpose in exposing people to something so dark and gruesome? Does the humanizing of Herbert White improve the reader’s capacity for understanding (or improve them in some other respect), or is that effect reserved for Bidart himself?
Is the author’s claim that unfit dancers are less likely to get hired indicative of an injustice within the dance industry (similar to the modeling industry), or does that logic not apply because dancing is a physical activity that tends to lead to a certain body type regardless?
The author’s concern for the art world seems to be only for the sake of the isolated art community. He writes “The interesting thing about right now is that while a gallery may not be visible to a large number of people, it can still be visible to just enough people with money.”, and while I understand his argument about the importance of having enough patrons to keep the art world alive and running and changing, isn’t it equally as important to make contemporary art more accessible to the average New Yorker, because the high-brow, expensive atmosphere of the art scene is what keeps everyone at bay.
The authors mention that “black and white may have expressive properties or symbolic associations.” (49) We are familiar with the association between white and purity, and black with death and darkness, but are these just cultural reflexes (particularly Western) or is there something in our human nature/biology which creates this link?
Alina Pena
