Sparafucile says that the reason he doesn’t want to listen to Maddalena and kill Rigoletto is because “What client of mine has ever been cheated?” He wants to be true to his word. But how is killing the next person that comes in not cheating Rigoletto if he’s not following what he was paid to do?
“A leitmotiv- guiding, or leading, motive- is a musical motive associated with some person, thing, idea, or symbol in the drama.” To put it in simpler terms, is a leitmotiv basically music acting as a symbol for some kind of emotion? Would the ominous music in a movie be a leitmotiv to warn us that something bad will happen? Later on in the reading, it says that even after Wagner, leitmotivs were “employed in most operas, in form or another; its dramatic power was acknowledged by both audiences and composers alike.” We mentioned in class that even though the Opera is in a different language, we can still understand the storyline. Do leitmotivs play a role in this?
I love music and am currently learning guitar so I found this very interesting and insightful. But to be quite honest, I didn’t really understand the part on musical notation and the shading meant to “indicate[s] passages of rhythm- meter correspondence.”
I seriously never realized how much goes into writing music. But some people are just musical- do they put all this thought into the details or does it just come naturally? “Composers can write cadences with all possible shades of solidarity and finality,” “Composers also take care to make sure some phrases contrast with their neighbors.” There are so many qualifications for good music and I never realized how much of a science it really is. But, for someone who can just write good music, do they think about all this as they’re writing it? Can there be an excellent composer who doesn’t know all this…?
The Armory Art Show, which opened in 1913, was the first large modern art exhibition. It was during a time of modernism and change and the pieces of art selected to be included somehow portrayed this. They were controversial and many claimed that they weren’t even art. As I walked through the exhibit I appreciated most of the beautiful pieces of art. However, none of them struck a chord until I reached one piece that I kept returning to because it was so complex and compelling that I couldn’t get enough.
When I saw Young Girl by Jacques Villon (aka Gaston Duchamp, Marcel Duchamp’s elder brother) despite being unsure of what it was, I immediately fell in love. The vibrant colors which stood out amongst Picabia’s Dancing at the Spring and Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase, definitely caught my eye, but I had to take a moment to discern the “young girl” in the painting who is meant to be Villon’s twenty-three-year-old sister, Yvonne sitting in an armchair. Paintings like these were called “puzzle pictures,” paintings that seemed unintelligible and were deemed deceptive because one could not look at it and immediately know what it was. However, that’s partly what I think makes it so special. I love how every time I looked at this painting (which was many, because I kept coming back to stare at it) I found something new. There was order amongst the chaos and a method to the madness. Villon used geometry in this abstract, Cubist artwork; the mathematical proportion called the Golden Section, volumetric pyramids and triangles and numerous other shapes. It’s not something that “anyone could do,” like many claim about other pieces of modern art. What’s meant to be the eyes, eyebrows, lips, jawbone, and cheeks is subject to opinion; there is more than one possibility for each, but somehow it fits in more than one way.
The piece may be conveying that the numerous changes at the time can each be seen in a different light. While one person may see one thing, someone else can see something totally different. But there’s no right or wrong, it’s a matter of perspective and opinion.
Shock of the New was both interesting and informative. Firstly, I like the way it started out. “The world has changed less since the time of Jesus Christ than it has in the last thirty years.” The chapter clearly states that “only very exceptional sights, like a rocket launch, can give us anything resembling the emotion with which our ancestors in the 1880s contemplated heavy machinery.” The changes during that time, whether it was machinery or the development in art were unheard of before, they were foreign concepts. However, our generation is used to change, so even if something new comes out, it’s not such a big deal for us.
It seems like everything has been done already. Shock of the New mentions numerous inventions that were life-changing and some changes that brought a new meaning to art. So, is there still opportunity for huge change and evolvement or are we so jaded when it comes to new ideas that there can be no such thing anymore as a “shock of the new”?
Probably the last thing you expect to see in the busy metropolis Manhattan is a gas station full of 25 sheep! When I first glimpsed Sheep Station I didn’t think anything of it. The gas pumps, signs, convenience store, and even the icebox all seemed totally typical. (Although the staggering low gas prices should’ve been a red flag!) But when I did a double take, I was enthralled by the luscious green grass, the trimmed bushes, and the life-like sheep that were so out of place at 239 10th Avenue, West Chelsea.
A guard standing on the premises was handing out fliers with information for the many passersby who had stopped to gape. Michael Shvo, a developer, bought this piece of land that was formerly an actual Getty filling station, and plans to build luxury residences there. However, throughout the construction period he plans to “bring outdoor exhibitions to a broad audience in the center of the High Line arts district.” Sheep Station, the work of French artist, François-Xavier Lalanne was the first exhibition and was featured from September 17th to October 21st.
This art is definitely something that makes people halt and take a second look! There are numerous, beautiful art galleries at Chelsea, but most of them are indoors. I think it’s great that Shvo, who is an art collector as well as a real estate developer, decided to take this initiative. Art shouldn’t be exclusively catered to one audience. Some of the galleries I walked into were so proper; white walls, a gentleman in suit at the entrance without a even a friendly “hello”; it seemed that this art was just meant for posh people. In contrast though, Getty Station is for the public; it’s for everyone and anyone who passes by, and that is what makes it so wonderful!
There are many instances where hidden identities cause chaos and confusion. When Olivia falls in love with Viola/ Cesario she is unknowingly falling in love with another woman. Similarly, when Orsino mentions Viola/ Cesario’s beautiful and feminine features, he is being attracted to someone whom he thinks is a man. In both these instances, and also in regard to Antonio’s love for Sebastian, there seems to be a lot of homosexuality. While it is something accepted now, how did people during the Shakespearean Era respond to this?
When I read the poem, I felt repulsed by Herbert White. Yes, it was very well written and I’m sure that’s why I felt so much emotion. However, why does the article on Frank Bidart say “Bidart’s achievement, even a tour de force, is to have made [Herbert White] human”? That’s not what I got out of the poem…
In the beginning of Chapter fifteen it says that “the dancer is the dance- literally the embodiment of choreography- it is easy to mistake the dancer for the choreographer (although sometimes she or he is). ” At the end of the chapter, it says that “The only way to master being able to separate the choreography from the performance is to watch a great deal of dance”.
I’m confused as to where the line is that separates the two. The chapter tries to explain it by talking about choreography and form but is there a real difference or is it just a fine line? Is it always so or does it vary from dance to dance?
I know a lot of people already wrote about this, but it was something that bothered me too. (I thought of my question and then saw everyone else’s and decided I’m going to write it anyway.) The author focuses so much on “bad art”. “Bad” is a very general term. What does he mean by “bad” and bad according to whose opinion? Why, according to him, is the art “bad”? Also, he says “bad is good” and “more bad is better” which kind of gives a mixed message. If the bad is good then why does he seem so upset about it?
