Month: October 2015 (Page 4 of 7)

Often times, people go about their day in a routine format. They go straight to and from work or school. Rarely, do these people ever take time to pause, look at their surroundings, and say to themselves, “Look at how pretty these falling leaves are. Look at this intricately woven spider web.” This is exactly what Jim Toia did.

Not only did Toia take time to absorb the beauties of nature, but he also tried to preserve the the beauties he saw in nature and transform them into art. In the NY Times article, “Pieces of Nature Preserved as Art at the New Jersey State Museum,” Tammy La Gorce talks about how Mr. Toia transfers spider webs among other things onto paper and preserve them as pieces of art for display. What Mr.Toia does to preserve these webs is that when he sees a spider web he will first scare off the spider. Then he would spray the spider web with oil stain and transfer the web onto paper. Below you can see one of Toia’s spider web arts.

The artist Jim Toia captures nature in his work, currently on display at the New Jersey State Museum. Here, “Galileo’s Gaze” (2007), oil and spiderweb on antique register paper.

As a “nature obsessed” artist, as the New York Times calls Toia, Toia saids that art is essentially all around us. His only job as an artist is to capture and preserve the art that nature has already been given to us.  The method of preservation, however, I think is up for dispute.

I think that Toia’s art does not necessarily have to embody the physical aspect of the art that he is trying to capture.  Every time that Toia sees a spider, he takes away the spiders web for art. The spider then becomes homeless and has to rebuild his home. Sometimes, Toia invades the home of the same spider multiple times just to obtain the same web. Although Toia states that he feels bad for taking the web of the spider, he usually just brushes the guilt off and says to the spider “Sorry to take it from you buddy. But you did a great job.” I understand that Toia at least isn’t killing the spider to obtain his form of art. But I personally think that Toia should change his medium of preserving art. Instead of physically taking the spider web, he could take pictures. Pictures still capture the essence of the beauty of nature that Toia is trying to create, even though the web is not actually on the photo. For his works of art like the “Ant Colny Cast” I think there art alternative ways to creating the cast, such as using a 3D printer, so it isn’t neccesary to cast the actual ant colony. Personally, I would rather Toia’s art not effect the natural habitats of the organisms that he is trying to capture.

“Ant Colony Cast”

Overall, I think that Toia’s creation of art using nature and what is in our surroundings is a great idea. I would love to see some of his works at the New Jersey State Museum. I think seeing the art works in person will certainly have a different effect on me.

New York is one of the most diverse and striking places out there. From its urban streets, to townhouses, to the beautiful lights of Times Square, New York is a center for artistic exploration and individualism.

Jill Freedman is a photographer who immersed herself in this cultural city. Capturing only the small and hidden gems of New York that represented what it held. In John Leland’s article, For a Street Photographer, ‘The Weirder, the Better’, he shows us her image of New York.

Ms. Freedman worked behind her lenses from the mid 1960s until the late 1980s, when she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Using only black and white, Freedman’s photography aimed to “avoid cloaking it under a veil of pretty.” She captured what others avoided, the cold, hard, truth of New York. What made it special, the small things and also the gruesome truths that existed. As Leland quotes, she sought, “beggars, panhandlers, people sleeping on the street,” the police and the firefighters, the people washed ashore by forces bigger than themselves. “It’s the theater of the streets,” she said. “The weirder, the better.”

But that was then. After she returned to New York in the 2000s, it was not the same city. What Freedman sought to capture, to explore, and to expose was instead replaced and hidden even deeper. The culture that she knew, the “disintegration that had seemed permanent” had disappeared and was replaced “by an order that felt even more insubstantial.”

Leland’s article brings up the dark truth about our culture. With innovation and movement, the treasures of our city, the hidden society of our streets, are disappearing. He uses the perspective of a photographer who lived through her lenses. Who photographed what she saw on streets, what New York was really about, not the one shown through glamorous pictures for advertisement and to attract tourist. An invisible community that lived within a bigger one.

It’s hard to believe how different everything had become. That if you step back and think, the New York of then, has been lost, pushed back into a corner and concealed. Leland’s article, made me realize that instead of just looking at the bigger picture, the small details also matter. That although innovation and advancement is important, we cannot forget the foundation of our city. What New York really is made of. The weird, yet normal things that occur. The small things that make life interesting.

Within its 346 year history, the Paris Opera Ballet hired its first Chinese dancer. Lam Chun-wing was a 19 year old from Hong Kong’s suburbs. His entry into the state-financed company is a dramatic change, since more than 90 percent of the dancers are French. But every great achievement is not without hard work and making the most of every opportunity.

Lam Chun-wing, right, dancing in April in ‘‘Aunis’’ at the Ballet School of the Paris Opera Ballet.

Mr. Lam grew up in an apartment with 5 other relatives, and started taking dance lessons at age 7. His ambition to become a professional dancer later took hold when he was 11. However, he couldn’t find a good male ballet teacher, so he had to go to the Guangzhou Ballet School during school holidays. In an annual dance event with the top students, the grande dame of the territory’s ballet teachers, Ms. Wong, noticed his talent and ideal body proportions. Ms. Wong later sent a DVD of Mr. Lam’s dancing to the Ballet School at the Paris Opera Ballet in 2011. He admitted as the first Chinese dancer to the academy.

Mr. Lam in ‘‘Don Quixote’’ at the Hong Kong Cultural Center in August

Interest for his talents grew, and Mr. Lam was invited to Paris for a private addition. His move to France, to develop his career, was encouraged by his parents even though most families in Hong Kong pushed children into traditional careers.

Mr. Lam’s rise in position came when he was a replacement for a production of Jean-Guillaume Bart’s “La Source.” His professional debut became a success even though the scene was a technically difficult one. He was able to dance with a “very polished technique, and was quick and fit” according to Benjamin Millepied, the Paris Opera’s dance director. Mr. Millepied embraced the notion of diversity to the Paris Opera because of the importance of representing  community as a 21st-century company.

Indeed, Mr. Lam became a hometown hero because he was the first in his occupation. Although he received much acclaim, Mr. Lam was very shy. Mr. Lam revealed he is proud, and happy, but most of all he was relieved, which shows his humble nature. Even though he was homesick, constantly worrisome, and nervous, Mr. Lam persevered through the struggles and not only made a name for himself, but became a trailblazer in his unremitting dream.

Art is very deeply rooted in Italy. Italian artists like Michelangelo, Raphael, and Leonardo da Vinchi (often thought of as “The Great Masters”) are the first few that come to mind when people think of the Renaissance. Each one of them have had significant impact on the advancement of art in our history. Their artwork, among other great Italian attractions, has attracted millions of tourists to Italy every year, making Italy the fifth highest tourist earner in the world! Lately, however, high-end fairs that specialize in old masters and antiques have been having trouble retaining and attracting buyers. Which is exactly why Fabrizio Moretti, an old master paintings dealer, decided to invite Jeff Koons, an American artist, to Florence to cut the opening ribbon at the 29th edition of the Biennale International dell’Antiquariato di Firenze and to show two of his sculptures.

Italian poster advertising the appearance of Koons’ artwork in Italy

Scott Rayburn opens his New York Times article, Florence Turns Up the Celebrity Heat,  by describing the strange and bizarre placement of Jeff Koon’s sculpture, “Pluto and Prosperina”, outside of the Palazzo Vecchio, which is Florence’s town hall. The piece was strategically placed in between masterpieces by the renown Donatello and Michelangelo, thereby creating a true juxtaposition between the art of the old masters and that of the contemporary. But that stark contrast was exactly the point. Dario Nardella, Florence’s mayor, thought that doing so would “broaden international interest in Italy’s oldest and most prestigious fair devoted to its own historic art!”

Koons’s “Pluto and Prosperina” (center) placed between copies of artwork by Donatello and Michelangelo, at the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence, Italy

 

Both of Koons’s works of art, “Pluto and Prosperina” and “Gazing Ball (Barberini Faun),” are inspired by artwork from the past, specifically artwork by Bernini and Donatello, respectively. When asked about inspiration for his artwork, he said “The way art functions in its connective power is very similar to our genes. Picasso will be referencing El Greco and El Greco will be making another reference. It’s a community. Information is transferred.”

“Pluto and Prosperina” by Koons. Placed outside the Town Hall.

“Gazing Ball (Barberini Faun)” by Koons. Placed inside the Town Hall.

I think Koons makes an interesting point in connecting his artwork with the past. There is something very empowering to think of art as a connection or “linkage” to the artists that were around prior to him, while still being able to advance it in some way or another. What I believe is so special about the art field, unlike other fields or industries, is that the possibilities in which people can create art are endless. It’s impossible for the arts to “die out”, as people will always be finding new ways to present their creativity. Though Italy currently struggles to attract buyers, I think that the combination of artwork from two time periods (Michelangelo and Koons, for example) provides an interesting perspective on the advancement and development of art (while still staying connected to past artists!) and will hopefully help boost the interest of buyers from around the world.

In Ireland there is a place called Ballylee, and in that place you can find a tower, which is now home to bats, mice, and mold. It also harbors a piece of the legacy of William Butler Yeats. This tower is called Thoor Ballylee, and it inspired much of his work.

Over the years, though, the “Norman tower has encountered natural challenges so daunting that the Irish government had to shut it down as a tourist site”. However, that has not stopped a devoted neighbor and other local residents from working hard to keep the tower alive and open to the public. As a result, you can see this wonderful tower in all its glory during select tourist seasons. It has become an attraction once again, offering the inspiration of the poet’s faint presence to readings, seminars and musical events.

Yeats would never even speak to his neighbors. He would simply remain holed up in his building, writing for hours on end, completely engrossed in the task of perfecting his works.

He paid a very small sum for the tower. It was rumored to have been built in either the 15th or 16th century, and was in need of considerable repair, as it had become sort of a shed. in 1917, Yeats bought the tower that had long-enchanted him and began working on it with his wife, George Hyde-Lees, and an architect in order to transform the tower into a place of inspiration. The walls and curtains were all strikingly colorful, and the poet often wrote on a table adorned with wildflowers. Yeats used the upstairs quarters–a study, a master bedroom and a guest room–as inspiration for his work, as well as the winding staircase that led to the upstairs.

During his time at Thor Ballylee, Yeats and his wife had two children. He was appointed to the Senate of the newly founded Irish government, and he won the Nobel prize in Literature in 1923. However, it wasn’t all good times at the tower. The civil war in Ireland came to his doorstep in the early 1920s. According to R. F. Foster, the author of a biography of Yeats, the Irish Republican Army arrived one day to announce that the bridge beside the tower was about to be blown up, and to suggest that Yeats’s wife take the children and maid upstairs for their safety. Sure enough, Yeats’s wife was said to have heard two loud explosions, with the I.R.A. officer saying that all was clear afterwards.

In 1928, Yeats published an anthology of poems that he named after his beloved home, “The Tower”. It contains important poems like “Sailing to Byzantium” and “Among School Children.” Soon after, though, he had to abandon his precious tower for reasons of convenience and his failing health, which left it to the abuse of the elements. Thanks to residents in his old community, a part of Yeats remains after more than a century, through stories shared by neighbors he barely knew.

Christopher Doyle, or Dù Kěfēng in Mandarin, is an Australian-Hong Kong cinematographer who often works on Chinese language films. Christopher Doyle has won international acclaim for films like Wong Kar-wai’s “In the Mood for Love” and Zhang Yimou’s “Hero,” both of which came out at the beginning of the turn of the century.

Roughly a year ago, Hong Kong erupted in mass youth protest. The goal: to prevent the government in Beijing from controlling local elections. Christopher Doyle is now releasing a film where he chronicles the events.

According to Joyce Lau’s September 2015 New York Times article, “Capturing the Voices of Hong Kong,” “Doyle crept into the protest zone at the break of dawn, when demonstrators were sleeping, and filmed details of daily life: a little girl delivering water, a lone teenager in the makeshift study area, a middle-aged man collecting garbage on a metal cart.” Doyle, at the age of 63, managed to capture the “intense and prolonged waiting” of the movement.

The footage has been included in Doyle’s film, “Hong Kong Trilogy,” which had its premiere at the Toronto International Film Festival last month. In Hong Kong, it is set to premier on the one-year anniversary of the police’s tear-gas assault on student protesters. Further, it is expected to also be shown in Denmark, South Korea, and India.

The movie is said to have both fiction and nonfiction elements as it uses “the voices of real Hong Kong people” as a “blueprint for this story of three generations in our city.” Said three generations are, “schoolchildren (‘Preschooled’), twentysomething activists (‘Preoccupied’) and the elderly (‘Preposterous’).”

The film has been largely crowd funded, having raised $125,000 of the $200,000 total budget online. This shows the growing public hankering for films that cover politically sensitive event. What makes Doyle’s work so noteworthy is the fact that it covers topics that the Chinese government tries to push under the table despite needing to be resolved.

Despite how unique one culture can be from another, a need for a democratic system of government knows no cultural bound. However, the Chinese government is attempt to abridge this right of civilians in Hong Kong.

Élisabeth Louise Vigée Le Brun Self-Portrait

Despicable forms of unjustifiable prejudice and ignorance occurs all around us, and it is something we can not change permanently. That is the case of an “obscure” artist, Elisabeth Louise Vigee Le Brun. Roderick Conway Morris’s article Vigée Le Brun: A Delayed Tribute to a French Trailblazer, insightfully brings to attention the artwork by this successful female painter who suffered as an “object of envy and the target of vitriolic, often misogynistic libels in the anti-establishment press during the years leading up to the French Revolution.” Her work has been salvaged in the last few decades and valuable research was carried out in the rediscovery process.

What was interesting about her monographic exhibition of 160 works that will start in Paris, then to the Metropolitan Museum in New York, and finally the National Gallery of Canada in Ottawa, is that the narration of her artwork drew on the contemporary documents and her “Memoirs,” written between 1825 and 1837. So it not only gives the audience their perspective on her work, but also what she endured through her time period to generate a better understanding.

Elisabeth Louise Vigee Le Brun has an uncanny resemblance as a portraitist, and lifestyle to John Singer Sargent in that her parents, especially her father pushed her to come into contact with the art world. It is notable that her father, a pastel artist, Louis Vigor declared “You will be a painter, my child, if ever there was one.” At the age of 12, the burgeoning artist lost her father and first teacher to a “botched medical operation,” and her mother was forced by economic circumstances to remarry to a man her daughter came to detest. She was later encouraged by her mother to pursue her art education to distract herself from her unhappiness. By the time she was 15, Louise had her own studio, which attracted an augmenting prestigious series of sitters. However, the financial rewards went to her avaricious stepfather, who appropriated the fees she was paid.

Vigée Le Brun’s portrait of Varvara Ivanovna Ladomirskaya (1800).

Later around 1776, Louise married Jean-Baptiste Pierre Le Brun, an artist and picture dealer, who turned out to be a “philanderer, addicted to gambling and prostitutes,” and also took her earnings. Although she had to struggle in such a filthy environment, her husband’s own professional expertise and collection of old masters and prints helped Louise to expand her artistic horizons and perfect her painting techniques.

A portrait of the Duchess of Polignac (1782), by Vigée Le Brun.

Soon, as Louise’s fame grew, she became a  quasi-official, and extremely well-paid, court artist. However, the artist’s privileged position at court, in particular, “exposed her to increasingly scurrilous accusations, among them that her rise was entirely thanks to her sexual charms and that she did not even paint her own pictures.” Fearing the dangers of possible arrest and execution, Louise later fled to Italy, and was exiled for 12 years from  France. Surprisingly, these years were highly productive. According to Morris, “In the majestic procession of portraits from this period she  fully manifests her sheer brilliance as a colorist and her ability to convey not just the beauty but the erotic magnetism of some of her sitters.”In addition, her travels inspired her to make hundreds of landscapes in pastels and oils.

Indeed, Louise, much like Sargent, was truly “married to her art.” She even wrote in her “Memoirs”: “The passion for painting was innate in me. This passion has never diminished; indeed, I believe it has only increased with time. Moreover, it is to this divine passion that I owe not only my fortune but also my happiness.” Such a painter suffered through so many obstacles in life, but persevered through in the determination and dedication to what she loved. However, beyond the rise from her struggle, Louise’s story brings to attention that society should not criticize and diminish an individual’s brilliance because of his or her gender. Because of what her own French brethren did to her, she was forgotten until now.

Lady Hamilton