Let me start off by saying that dance is some of the most intense stuff that I’ve ever seen. Literally everyone on that stage seemed like they were flexing every muscle in their body to keep a perfect form of movement consistently throughout the performance. I really enjoyed having a close seat, but I have a feeling that sitting in the balcony would’ve provided a great view all on its own because we would’ve seen the dancers’ full bodies from a higher angle. Seeing them sweat and hearing them breathe gave the evening a very personal and intimate aura, however, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

The first two small performances were interesting, and that’s just about all I can say about them. I searched and searched for some sort of story line and meaning, but couldn’t find anything. Perhaps that’s because I’m not very creative, and our professor(s) came up with a plot that the performance followed. The music was certainly classical more than anything, and my second favorite instrument is the piano, so I found the melody to be captivating. I can overlook my inability to create a plot in my mind by focusing more on the movement and the effort that I watched all the dancers put forth in their performance, which in a personal sense I admired more than anything else.

But, of course, the last part of the performance was completely thunderous and incredible. Give me saxophone solos, jazzy love songs, and some Stevie Wonder audio, and I’m ready to get up on that stage with the dancers to make a fool of myself. Those melodies revitalized about half of the sleeping class (I was a member of the awake group) and gave the rest of the audience a jolt, leading to spontaneous applause and whistling and ubiquitous “wows” that were heard nearly every thirty seconds.

La Clairvoyance by Rene Magritte was, without a doubt, my favorite painting in the MoMA exhibition. I think the first thing that stuck out to me as I walked by was the majestic bird on the canvas, and that’s where my pondering began. Why would Magritte paint a self portrait in the act of painting a bird, when he could’ve just painted the bird itself and focused on all of its delicate details?

That’s when I looked down and saw the unhatched egg on the table.
Essentially Magritte is suggesting that when he paints, he perceives
everything about the future. He is so creative and innovative that all he needs
is square 1, and he will give you squares 2-infinity. Of course, the painting
need not be a realistic representation of how Magritte would actually paint a bird, rather a pretty clear suggestion that Magritte has the element of creativity
that makes him stand out as an artist.

Magritte may be promoting the idea of clairvoyant thought. Don’t settle for a small white egg on a table; take the egg and enhance what it merely is. Even go a step further: don’t settle for something that “is”. Make that something into a prospect or a potentially miraculous image. Some might mistake Magritte’s painting as a blatant sign of arrogance, but I believe it’s quite the contrary: it’s more of a message to the audience that’s going to be viewing and criticizing his work than it is a self-righteous display of his talent. And that makes it even more fascinating; Magritte is famously known as a surrealist, but here the only surreal aspect is the fact that he is seen painting something as opposed to presenting his painting as it is traditionally supposed to be: on canvas. Instead, the focus is not actually the bird (which it would be if it was a “normal” painting) and is, instead, Magritte’s keen ability to be creative.