Snapshot event

I had gone to the New York Historical Society to see the photos the students took and to see my work in a museum to make me feel like an artist. When I went into the room full of photos, there were a lot of people in the small room and I did not really enjoy looking at the photos. Thus, I went to see adjacent exhibits. I liked the presentation of how Chinese people were discriminated against in the nineteenth century. It enhanced my knowledge on how they used to get the least favorable jobs and their poor lifestyles in America. However, I was not impressed with the holiday train exhibits as I was expecting because both were small and the trains were not moving or there were no tracks. Then I went back to the room with the photos because I knew there would be little people still there. Like the professor said, we remember the moments where we are alone the most. Because I was one of the few people there, I could take a look at all the photos without pushing past a crowd of people. I then began to try and figure out when and where a photo was taken. In addition, it seems that some photos were not taken in NYC. I remember one description said “A bird in Philly,” which suggests the person was in Philadelphia at the time. Also, one picture was taken on a sunny day when 10/13 was cloudy; it must have been taken on another day or somewhere else. I noticed that a few descriptions must have been mixed up as well because they did not match the photo they were supposed describe, while providing an accurate description of an adjacent photo. Luckily, everyone got the right message when they saw my photo, except my name was not on it. Instead it said “Unknown Author.” I want to be known.

I felt that I could concentrate on the art a lot more when there were less people around, so from my experience, it’s clear that art would be easier to learn about in a rural setting, not in NYC. At least the Macaulay seminar fulfills my liberal arts requirements, while adding some unique experiences. I guess this class is encouraging me to challenge human propensities. I say: “Challenge accepted.”

Reaction to Genesis

This was the main exhibit in the International Center of Photography. It was a collection of photographs taken by Sebastiao Salgado. They show Salgado’s findings in the mountains, in Africa, and within the arctic circle. I enjoyed looking at the photos of the mountains because they were so large and beautiful. My favorite was a photograph of a small mountain range and clouds above it, and behind the clouds I could see the base of an enormous mountain. The grandeur of such mountains impresses me.

I also liked that the photos that were hanging in one of the hallways were showing two completely different things. On one side, photos of Siberia depicted the cold climate and how people struggled to keep warm while traveling across an immense expanse of a frozen desert. On the other side, were photographs of the natives living near the equator. Unlike the people from Siberia, they were warm all the time. However, they lacked adequate food, shelter and tools (they still used stone tools). This setup of the two areas juxtaposed in one hallway, shows how close Salgado allows us to travel to see such different aspects of life, but I’m sure it took him a couple of days to go in between the areas.

This exhibit demonstrates the ways so many people live using black and white photographs and short descriptions. I am glad I made this afternoon excursion to this exhibit to view the findings Salgado’s excursion that took several years to make.

Art From the Waste Land

The documentary “Waste Land” was enlightening. It showed a side to product consumption that I had never considered before. Moreso than anything, it showed an entire community of people whose very lifelines came from the landfill of Jardim Gramacho. The documentary followed Vik Muniz’s expedition to create art out of the landfill of Jardim Gramacho and how it impacted the people that lived there. My favorite part of the documentary had to be when Vik, along with the people, actually crafted the pieces of art using recyclable materials. It was an inspiring moment and left me awe-struck.

Another deeply fascinating part of the documentary was its portrayal of the people that made their livings off of picking recyclable materials. The portrait that is painted of this community shows a strong, proud group of people; they live a simple life and are satisfied with it. Vik postulates that this might come from denial and from not knowing any better. Regardless, it was a very heartfelt moment in the documentary when Tiao and his people were at the museum; their words, especially Irma’s, moved me.

“Waste Land” was an extremely enjoyable watch and was full of deep, emotional moments that truly appealed to the viewer. Loved it!

P.S: “99 is not 100!” should be a motto for the recycling movement!

On Szymborska – sample post

(Here is a short reflection I have to Szymborska’s very raw poem on 9/11. Please note my use of tags as thematic markers so that you can reuse what you need and add more if there is no tag suitable already. Also note how I’ve categorized it both as “poetry” and as “week 2”)

Photograph from September 11 – Wislawa Szymborska

This poem struck me in a way that is not always possible when reading something. I can’t say whether it’s because I remember so clearly because I was your age, 18 and a 1st year college student, when 9/11 destroyed what we thought we knew about being American, or because the words are just so raw.

I instantly understand what the poet is seeing, the images of desperate people flinging themselves from the towers that flashed on the news for months and months.

What strikes me most of all about this poem is the connection she draws between the power of this writing and the photographic image: suspension. The photo froze them all above the ground, not yet dead. This resonates for me with where she stops her remembering: 
I can only do two things for them–
describe this flight
and not add a last line.
Like the harrowing images from 9/11, Symborska has frozen the now-dead before death–holding on to them in a space where we we can see and remember.