Tourist Guide

I did learn to appreciate some forms of Modern Art during my visit to the MoMa. An example of such works is Claude Monet’s Agapanthus, which depicts nature in its purest form. This painting depicts several flowers, known as agapanthuses, surrounded by swirls of what seems to be green grass and leaves and is reminiscent of Van Gogh’s paintings. I enjoyed seeing the directions of the brushstrokes on the painting, as it points to the attention to detail paid by Monet in a painting surrounded by a green backdrop. According to the description, Monet often painted in his garden, which was rich with plant life. Such an inspiration is clearly depicted in this painting as it is completely covered in the color green, showing that life surrounds the flowers on all sides. Such art, which is a nonstandard interpretation of common scenes, is unique in its technique, which adds to its artistic value. This is the type of innovation that I can appreciate in art, as opposed to Frantisek Kupka’s lackluster style and lack of genuine technique.

I have always been rather critical of modern art. In my opinion, drawings of angled lines and shapes of different color or splatters of random paint on a canvas discredit true art from all around the world, which actually requires some sort of talent and devotion, and depicts situations or places which people can closely identify with or have some sort of personal relation to. In my opinion, for art to be successful, it must elicit some sort of emotional response. Instead, much of the works considered as modern art leave me feeling apathetic. The piece entitled “Amorpha: Fugue in Two Colors” is an example of such art. According to the description, the artist, Frantisek Kupka, painted this picture to show that rhythmic progressions of colors in a specific, organized fashion reflect the forces present in our universe. I think that it is naïve and even foolish for an artist to assume that he can capture the incredible nature of our mysterious universe with such a simple piece of art, if it can even be called that. I wonder if anyone would ever interpret this painting the way the author did as he was drawing it. If not, and the painting is interpreted completely differently by every other person, then it should not be considered art. I understand people who try to experiment with different techniques, even if unsuccessfully, in order to enrich the art of painting, but in my eyes, this piece can only serve two legitimate purposes. It should either show potential painters exactly what they should not pursue as an artist or be burned to keep someone warm in the cold winter months in New York.

Roy Lichtenstein is definitely one of my favorite artists, known most famously for his Pop Art paintings in comic book style. I was actually introduced to his paintings when I visited the National Museum of Art in Washington D.C., and I’ve loved his work ever since. Lichtenstein captures these cartoon scenarios and makes them larger than life as well as tranforms them into a more realistic context, as if these comic book characters and speech bubbles represented snapshots of a regular person’s daily life struggles.
In order to paint in a comic book style, Roy Lichtenstein’s 1963 Drowning Girl,for example, is illustrated with a half tone.  A half tone is a reprographic technique that contains a continuous tone of the same color broken into binary images, or what you see as these dots.  All of the dots are the same color, but when they vary in size of spacing, the “half tone” creates the optical illusion of different shades and values of color.
Lichtenstein’s dots look stimulating to the eye both up close and far away in this 67 5/8 x 66 3/4″ oil painting, catching a woman in emotional distress and shouting, “I don’t care! I’d rather sink than call Brad for help!”  I love how Lichtenstein controls both the dramatic and the familiar in his style, exposing a scene like Drowning Girl at such a large scale to bring light to some of our trivial problems in everyday life.

Unlike many other pieces of artwork at the museum, this piece was simply left as ‘Untitled.’ David Hammons did not use paint or ink to create this artwork. Instead, he used his body. By smearing his skin and clothing with grease and then pressing it against a sheet of paper, Hammons was able to create an image by sprinkling graphite or pigment on it afterwards. The artwork was Hammon’s way of describing his feelings during that time period. It was created in 1969, the period of nationwide protests and demonstrations against the Vietnam War. In the artwork, the man, who represents Hammons himself, clasping his hands in a prayer, hoping there won’t be a war. The wrinkled lines that Hammon’s body made the man’s clothes in the picture seem real. It amazes me how artists are able to constantly generate new ideas and display their artworks with hidden meanings through different methods.

I love the MoMa for its’ photography but I appreciate photography in general, which is why I chose these two photographs. This first one is called “Nan One Month After Being Battered” by Nan Goldin taken in 1984. At the age of 31 this woman still had a bloody eye a month later after being brutally beaten. She is facing the camera head on and her expression is composed or perhaps hardened; the contrast too, brings out the red and drags our attention to her lips and eyes.  This sends a powerful message about domestic violence. It’s brave of her to put this picture on display, since most women are embarrassed and don’t speak out against this ongoing issue.

This photograph is called “Nice”. It was taken by Lisette Model in 1938. This photo I found to be a bit humorous because of her unusual clothing style and body type. I haven’t seen many photos like these, but it seems that Model was trying to capture the reality or perhaps another side to the story. As this picture was taken during the Great Depression, the photo itself does not reflect the conditions of the time period. Instead this woman is overweight which suggests that she is not starving nor without a shelter. She seems pretty comfortable, except the sun in her eyes which ironically captures her with a bitter expression. Behind her are cars and buildings which don’t really say much about the Depression. Her expression alone might be the truth behind this picture after all.

In the midst of such accredited artworks at the Museum of Modern Art, I saw a large crowd, gathered around a specific section of a wall.  Everyone had their fancy DSLRs and camera phones to get a quick snapshot of the mysterious piece and would immediately leave.  Once I made my way to the front of the crowd, there it was.  Vincent Van Gogh’s 29 x 36 1/4″ oil painting, The Starry Night hung on the wall in front of me, illuminating in symphonic silence from within the very cypress trees and moonlight sky on the canvas.

Van Gogh had painted The Starry Night in 1889 during his year at the asylum in Saint-Rémy de Provence, the most difficult time of his life.  However, through his depression and isolation, this masterpiece swirls into success, a view front out of his window with a lucid dream like quality and comforting application of materials.  Each brushstroke on the canvas feels like an intuitive decision that progressed with the painting itself and since it is done in impasto, Van Gogh adds physical movement and body to the piece with his thick application of paint.  The yellows shine at the perfect humble volume and the blues and greens danced together across the sky and throughout the village, sweeping our eyes deep into The Starry Night.

Richard Lippold is a twentieth century American sculptor with a background in industrial design. Through his skills with geometry and engineering, he produced many sculptors out of wires that resemble a three-dimensional mechanical drawing. Hanging from the ceiling, this structure, Variation Number 7: Full Moon, caught my attention immediately. The blue light directed at the structure gave it a calm and nighttime feeling. Made out of brass rods, nickel-chromium and stainless steel wires, the complexity of this structure is immense. It comprises of cubes, ellipses, triangles, and pyramids. The different shapes and lighting symbolizes the radiations of moonlight. The structure also represents the tenseness of life. If one key wire snaps, the whole structure would collapse. This was my favorite piece at MoMA because it shows traits of both geometric and abstract art. Next to the picture of Full Moon is Lippold’s 2D drawing of it.

The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art has always been one of my favorite museums.  I know, I know.  You’re probably wondering why I love every single museum.  But the truth is that New York offers some of the best museums in the world, and that’s not an exaggeration.  The Metropolitan Museum of Modern Art (or MoMA, for short) has one of the world’s most extensive galleries of art, ranging from more classic paintings like Vincent Van Gogh’s Colors of the Night to more contemporary pieces like Raqib Shaw’s Garden of Earthly Delight III.  There are so many different aspects of art that are well-covered by the MoMA’s endless variety of works.  The first time I visited the MoMA was when I was five, and the only thing I remembered from that visit was Van Gogh’s Starry Night. I didn’t have much of a clue at all as to what was going on, considering I was five.  But now, visiting the MoMA for a second time, my perception of things are so much clearer (at least I hope so).  There were pieces of art that made me wonder how it even got classified as art, like Felix Gonzalez-Torres’s Untitled piece that displayed paper rolled into sharp cones and placed base-down onto the paper, but in general, the visit to the MoMA was highly enjoyable.

This exhibit showcases landscape design in odd shapes and sizes. The long installation on the wall and the egg shaped standing sculpture both contain living plants and wildlife within them. They represent two opposite extremes, on one hand they are full of nature and greens, yet on the other hand they are incased, giving off an inorganic feel.

Lines is a new exhibit at the MoMa which follows drawing throughout the 20th Century. This particular part of the exhibit featured a minimal aspect to drawing and lines in general. In-between the two fans is a black streamer which appears as a never ending line. The streamer stays in-between the two fans at all times making it seem like it is actually drawing.