General Information: Adam and Eve by Rachel Feinstein in 2007

This sculpture of Adam and Eve highlights an underlying premise: feminism through religious lens. The artwork itself is very mesmerizing, utilizing stained wood to depict a literal tree, with its canopy seamlessly transitioning from nature to human life. The fluid nature of the wood connects the set pieces of this sculpture from top to bottom, adding an appealing aesthetic to the eye. This is achieved by the relatively abstract artistic style used to depict this loose mimesis of the Adam and Eve in the Bible. However, while the physical form of this wooden art piece is breathtaking, the real takeaway lies within its concept. The medium of stained wood serves to contextualize this. Even at the dawn of humankind, in a time when marble or steel did not exist, in a time where trees graced the land amongst nature, men were implied superior to women.

In a traditional biblical reading, Adam is the first man and Eve is the first woman. However, gender biases are clearly distinguished within the Bible. This ranges from Eve being the direct cause of the fall of the Garden of Eden to Eve being the second to be formed–created from the rib of Adam. Feinstein depicts an Adam and Eve on equal standing, with their bodies intertwined to represent this equality. Although the notion of being created from a rib of Adam can be seen as symbolic of their relationship as companions, with Eve literally made to be at Adam’s side eternally, this concept can also imply that Eve herself is not a “whole” person, designated to be a part of Adam and reliant on him since he was the catalyst for the creation of her being. Having Adam and Eve intertwined more clearly demonstrates their equal status as humans while maintaining their companionship. Furthermore, Eve serves as the main focus of the overall sculpture, evident in her position at the center and her direct link to the nature that surrounds them. This linkage to her surrounding coupled with her prominent placement could also suggest that the equality of man and woman as a right is only natural, about as natural as the tree above them.

The combination of this sculpture pushing for women equality and Rachel Feinstein’s status as a woman artist, which is a rarity among artists who portray religious embodiments, pushes this feminist agenda in the art world within a unique platform. She doesn’t push for the type of feminism that has received a negative stigma in recent news, but one advocating for genuine equality for both genders in order to have a world as beautiful and elegant as this sculpture.

I feel a surge of patriotism enveloping my very essence. A strange feeling indeed!
For I am not from here. I am from an island within the Philippines!
For I am not from here. The cold is news to me!
For I am not from here. Trees grow back every season!
I should not feel any nationalism. But here I am, proud to be in America!

A flag alone shimmering amidst the dark gray.
A flag in the wind shining red and blue and white.
A flag high atop a pole overseeing the green.

The savory American spirit resides in us all.
The spirit inhabits the land that we walk, from the bright grass to the dull concrete,
The spirit exists in the buildings that we climb, from the foundation to the ceiling,
The spirit lives in the sky that we see, from the polluted air to the clouds.

Although it shines bright, as radiant as the sun can ever be,
Not everyone is willing to embrace the spirit inside, which twists and turns, looking for a place to hide.
Not many are born here, most come with their own individual sense of culture,
Many are quick to put their solo identity to the front, people in America are not distinctly American.

But uncovered and true, residing in us all, lies an unwavering spirit that we cannot be identified without,
Our American spirit hangs high like a flag atop a pole,
Shimmering proudly and valiantly, a hidden star shining amidst the mist of many American identities.

“Having thus distinguished two themes in Photograph (for in general the photographs I liked were constructed in the manner of a classical sonata), I could occupy myself with one after the other.” (Barthes, 27) This is essentially the entirety of chapter 10.

This section of Camera Lucida opens the floodgates to the rest of Part one, and sets the stage for the two key characteristics within a photograph. In order to truly appreciate a photograph as a spectator, one must distinguish between these two themes. They act as weapons of mass analysis. These include the studium and the punctum. This part of the passage called to me as it kindled my Latin knowledge. In addition, it serves a heavy role in the future of the book, and is expected to be thoroughly understood as the author loosely throws the jargon when analyzing photography. The first part of these dual forces serves as the more difficult one. In Latin, studium means zeal or spirit. In photography, the studium encapsulates the spirit of the photo, the general gist of the photo that is acknowledged by the average audience. However, the latter part is much more direct and simpler to understand. In Latin, punctum means point or puncture. In photography, the punctum serves as the irregularity that exists within the photo, the extra detail to the photo that interrupts the studium and adds spice it. Equipped with these two forces, readers are now one step closer to understanding the essence of photography.

“Contrary to these imitations, in Photography I can never deny that the thing has been there. There is a superposition here: of reality and of the past. And since this constraint exists only for Photography, we must consider it, by very reduction, as the very essence, the noeme of Photography. What I intentionalize in a photograph (we are not yet speaking of film) is neither Art nor Communication, it is Reference, which is the founding order of Photography.” (Barthes, 76-7)

This section of Camera Lucida is a breath of fresh air after the reading the beginning of part two, which I personally felt had little content in relation to photography and was too personal. This passage highlights the aspect of photography that is undeniable to its creation: the Reference. Otherwise known as “that-has-been” or the noeme of Photography, this element of Photography captures an aspect of it’s essence. It is essential to the photography, for without the original Referent, it cannot exist as an artform, a mode of communication, or as a whole, thus making it the “founding order of Photograph.” It is not a particularly hard concept to grasp, in fact, by being amidst a seemingly endless clutter of retrospection concerning familial ties, this chapter as a whole has a sense of enhanced coherency, especially after the direct connection with the Referent mentioned long ago is established.

Question: With the rise in editing software and photoshop, to what extent do the concepts of the photographic referent and its inherent necessity hold up in the current day?

While the studium of the photo would be the serene pond landscape, the punctum, in my eyes, would be the sharp contrast in color provided by the red leaves toward the right side of the photo.

With a destination in mind and a mission to accomplish, my group and I headed out of the Highline and towards twenty-second street. The street was hectic with the sound of jackhammers and construction. The first gallery we walked into would be the first “white cube” archetype of the many others we soon will discover. However, D.C. Moore’s gallery is one of multiple in an upstairs department of the 525 building complex. Upon exiting the industrial elevator and arriving to the third floor, we were greeted by a bright glean of white and distilled beauty, which was quite the contrast from the busy environment outside. In it, there were rectangular frames of differing sizes on the white walls that depicted “Daytime New York” by Yvonne Jacquette. The empty space around the frames created a serene effect. Due to this, viewers can take in and understand the beauty of New York in daytime. By limiting the sensation to our eyes and our brains, the artist is effectively able to separate the other factors associated with viewing these buildings regularly. The gallery space isolates the paintings from the everyday bustle inherent to New York while simultaneously displaying this very bustle. This was only one of multiple artists showcased in the gallery. The other artist’s works are devoted to particular sections within the space, branching off of the main central opening, thus permitting viewers to roam freely to their heart’s content. After experiencing only one gallery in a building filled with them, I was quite thrilled to enter the other different “art worlds” within this space. Unfortunately, the other galleries were all either closed or were to be available in the distant future.

The next gallery amidst the many other “white cubes” in twenty-second street, although also a “white cube” itself, effectively made each artist showcased feel like a new “art world” through the use of narrow hallways separating each open area. This layout of the Mitch Epstein gallery at the 530 building made the viewing experience one continuous flow from artist to artist, since in order to access the artwork at the end, one must go through all the artworks from hallway to hallway. The overall aesthetic is similar to the first gallery, yet the viewing experience was different. This gallery is more streamlined and mostly has photographs while the first was open, branching, and mostly had paintings. The final wall of photographs, after going through the many passageways of traditional photo print, subverts all expectations. This final space at the very back stuck out like a sore thumb. On it lies five images by Jeffrey Gibson, which all blare with bright and intrusive colors. Such images include “IF I RULED THE WORLD” and “THE FUTURE IS PRESENT”. The sharp contrast between the bright frames and the solid white walls causes the viewers to try and discern the messages which the collage is attempting to convey. The plain white color in the background only aids at honing in the artwork’s unorthodox and “nonplain” font. While the other framed art pieces leading up to this point contained printed photographs conveying a message through an image, this one contained collages with messages printed out in a wacky font.

Upon descending into the intricate underground network of tunnels and subway lines, with the eyes of hundreds of New Yorkers engraved into the walls watching your every step, I am greeted by a grand stone and glass mosaic at the bottom. An assortment of colors break the dull aesthetic of the MTA system, as a vortex of differing shades of blue, meant to represent the sea, encapsulates an oval area spanning at least 35 feet in width and 20 feet in length. At the middle of the vortex lies a singular blue eye outlined by a yellow ring amidst the sea of blue. Rings radiate from the center of the piece. If the single eye were to be the nucleus of the mosaic element, the tan and green continents surrounding it would be the electrons. The landmasses fit in a uniform fashion, into an “electron shell”.

This stone and glass mosaic, “Occulus” (not to be confused with the larger “Oculus” in the World Trade Center), fits Kwon’s second paradigm, “Art as a Space”. Although it may seem like just a break from the monotonous subway look, this art work utilizes its location deep within New York City to its advantage. The eyes on the walls leading to the main mosaic were based off of hundreds of real New Yorker’s eyes. They are literally New Yorkers watching other, real life New Yorkers take the train to work, which makes the eyes personable and relatable. The “Occulus” itself depicts a single eye at the center, or overlooking, the entire world, which symbolizes how any New Yorker can “see” the vast variety of cultures within New York City. And what a better place to showcase the interconnectedness of the city than within the underground train system that connects every corner of the Big Apple. The funding body is clearly visible upon examining the artwork. The fact that this artwork has been commissioned by Metropolitan Transportation Authority Arts for Transit and MTA New York City Transit is made apparent in its location in the MTA system. However, the plaque is the only indicator of the artists, Kristin Jones and Andrew Ginzel. The latter has made other site-specific works throughout the world.

After leaving the 72nd Street stop from the 2/3 train station, I am greeted by a grand statue of Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi on top of a cylindrical structure. There are four people, who are separated by 90 degree intervals, by the base of the structure. At the foundation lies three steps towards the four figures, Falstaff, Leonora of La Forza del Destino, Aida, and Otello, who are on stone pedestals above the steps but below the main cylindrical structure. Between each of the figures, there are limestone string instruments. The man, who is one of the world’s most renowned composers, is on his feet, as if proclaiming the land his own, seeming to exuberate confidence. Decked out with a suave stone trench coat, and his left hand on his waist whilst carrying a robe, Verdi gazes upon those walking about West 72nd Street.

This Carrara marble and Montechiaro limestone statue of Giuseppe Fortunino Francesco Verdi in Verdi Square is an example of what Kwon refers to as “New Genre Public Art”. The art itself is the centerpiece of a triangular plot of land consisting of a train station and a small outdoor place to sit. At a glance, this monument seems indifferent to the site at hand. However, this statue is integral to the larger Italian community. It was through the efforts of this Italian community, who supported the funding body, Carlo Barsotti, that the presence of this sculpture could be erected in the first place. This artwork celebrates the cultural and artistic heritage of the Italian-American community.

These two works, the “Occulus” and the statue within Verdi Square, both exemplify the value of art in relation to where it is situated. However, there are also glaring aspects of both pieces that distinguish them from one another. The first difference comes in the medium through which the art is expressed. The first utilizes glass and stone to create a stunning two-dimensional mosaic while the other uses a combination of marble and limestone to construct a foreboding three-dimensional sculpture. The types of artwork used compliments where they are located. The mosaic is a part of the bustling underground of Chambers Street where people can choose to appreciate it but can also simply go about their busy life. On the other hand, the monument in Verdi Square is in a wide, open space which has to be walked around but is accompanied by park greenery and aesthetic chairs and tables. Lastly, the mosaic reaches out to the overall New York City community while the statue specifically targets the Italian-American community.

Information

Artist: Giovanni Francesco Susini

Country: Italy

Date: circa 1630-1640

Analysis

The most striking feature of this artwork is the sleek bronze medium used to accentuate the stature of these two majestic animals. The horse was more rusted than the lion, which could be symbolic of the horse’s status as the prey, and therefore, degraded. This sculpture is a lifelike representation of the animal.

The lion’s hunting prowess is emphasized, with the predatory bite marks and claw marks vividly apparent, seeping through the metallic horse’s hide. The lion embodies fierceness through its dominant position over the horse. Three of the lion’s limbs are firmly planted onto its prey, with the fourth on the floor for support. The horse, on the other hand, with its neck writhing in pain and hooves thrashing in urgency, is desperately trying to escape the ironclad grasp of its predator. This realistic depiction of a lion attacking a horse, from the lion’s positioning to the horse’s defiance against its inevitable fate, would suggest that Susini is familiar with wild animals in combat. While the horse has a face of agony, one would expect the lion to have one of unwavering superiority. However, the lion appears to have a somber countenance, as if it’s expressing how the nature of this scene is purely business, purely due to its placement on the food chain in relation to the opposing animal. This detail is only apparent if one views the lion from below, effectively making this sentiment hidden to the casual viewer. Another feature to note is the lion’s mane, having intricate twists and turns within its locks of fur, which embodies the lion’s regal nature. Overall, this sculpture highlights this intimidating predator of nature, which makes its sad facial expression all the more bewildering.