Category: New York Times 9/25

An Original Aboriginal Artist

Warlimpirrnga Tjapaltjarri, an artist whose work is currently being displayed for the first time at the Salon 94 gallery in New York City, is not your typical small town artist looking for fame. In fact, until he was in his 20s, Mr. Tjapaltjarri belonged to the Pintupi Aboriginal group, in a West Australian desert. When the Pintupi were forced to move into settlements in the 1950s and 1960s, his family remained out of view, “hunting lizards and wearing no clothes except for human-hair belts”. In 1984, Mr. Tjapaltjarri and his family were discovered and moved into a Pintupi community. They were a sensation in the news, known as the Pintupi Nine, the last “lost tribe.”

Mr. Tjapaltjarri

Mr. Tjapaltjarri

Mr. Tjapaltjarri took on painting with his two brothers, modifying traditional designs that Pintupi men used on rocks, spears, and bodies. As a healer and keeper of ancestral stories among the Pintupi people, Mr. Tjapaltjarri captures the history of the natives in his art. His abstract style, which has made him famous in the Desert Painting Movement, is seen as unique and fascinating to many. Jeanne Greenberg Rohatyn, the owner of the Salon 94 gallery, said that she first saw Mr. Tjapaltjarri’s work in the remarkable Documenta exhibition in Kassel, Germany, in 2012, and his paintings stood out the most. “I also loved the fact that this abstraction had another kind of abstraction behind it — at least abstraction to us, because we’ll never be able to understand these stories in the way they do,” she said. “And I thought that they looked so contemporary at a time when abstraction is being practiced by so many New York artists.”

Black-and-White

The Central and Western Desert in black and white.

The unusual history behind Mr. Tjapaltjarri’s art is what makes it so exceptional. Every painting has a story behind it, although not every story is revealed to the public. The way the artwork tells a story has remained a secret. Fred R. Myers, an anthropologist at New York University who has studied the Pintupi and their art since the early 1970s, says, “I’ve been asking that question for 40 years, and I’ve never really gotten the same answer twice — it’s very inside knowledge, the paintings operate more like mnemonic devices than like representations of a narrative.”

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The Gibson Desert, Mr. Tjapaltjarri’s current home.

Regardless of his growing fame, Mr. Tjapaltjarri will always be an important figure among the Pintupi people. In Kiwirrkurra, the community where he lives in the Gibson Desert, he is well respected for his knowledge and experience. His artwork tells the mythical stories about the Pintupi people as well as about the formation of the desert. For example, one of his paintings, which may simply look like lines and curves, tells the story of a group of ancestral women who appear only at night in the desert around Lake Mackay, an immense saltwater flat that is the main focus of his paintings. His art has a deeper meaning, one that may or may not be understood by everyone, but holds a place in the hearts of the Pintupi.

 

Immigrating to the West One Photo at a Time

Each day, thousands of illegal immigrants are smuggled across the border. They are shoved into gas tanks, squeezed into cargo boxes, and  hidden in the backs of trucks.They are pressed into small boats by the hundreds just to be sunk off the coast.  News coverage has made us all painfully aware of what Syrian refugees go through in order to enter Europe.  Yet with all the focus of the Syrian refugees fleeing the Middle East, why haven’t we asked ourselves what happens to those who stay behind? In his article “Photo Exhibition Puts Syrian Refugees on the Seine,” Elian Peltier features Reza Deghati who seeks to answer this question by creating a photo exhibition right on the banks of the Seine River.

Before we look at Reza’s work, we must first understand what is happening in Syria. In 2011, a series of reform movements and protests spread across the Middle East including Syria. Feeling threatened by the movement’s demands, Syria’s president Bashar al-Assad responded by attacking the protesters. He ordered their kidnappings, tortures, and murders in addition to destroying the suburbs in which they lived. In wake of this totalitarian atrocity, militant rebel groups were formed, aiming to establish a more moderate government. Syria erupted into a full blown civil war. In the midst of the internal fighting, ISIS entered Syria in search of territory and has been fighting both the rebel and government forces ever since. Surrounded by three opposing fronts in a war that has been going on for over four years now, Syrian civilians have no choice but to flee the country.

Once outside of Syria, refugees have two options, to stay in the Middle East in a refugee camp or to enter Europe and try to establish themselves. It is easy for Europeans to blame the refugees for entering Europe instead of staying in the Middle East. After all, these refugees are disrupting local economies and cultures. In the midst of this harsh sentiment, Reza’s photos call their audience to see past the negatives and accept the immigrants as human beings.

Reza’s works focus on the homeless children living in Middle Eastern refugee camps. While it is easy to dismiss a suffering adult, a child in pain cannot be so easily ignored.  He glamorizes their childhood in certain pictures by capturing the children while playing. It is easy for a viewer to relate to his own childhood in such pictures, and as such he recalls fond memories and develops a connection with the child in the photo. Later photos shock the audience by capturing the children at their low points- while performing physical labor or laying on the ground motionless. According to Reza, “[these] kids have lost the paradise every kid has.” Now in his state of shock, a viewer is more sensitive to the conditions refugees face and will be less likely to dismiss their rights as humans.

By forcing the public to see what the alternative is, perhaps Reza’s works will persuade Europeans to be more accepting of the current demographic shift from Syria. These immigrants are not criminals sneaking into a country. They are victims fleeing from one.

Is My Luxury Your Luxury?

Luxury is in the eye of the beholder is the crux of Kathleen Beckets’ article, V&a asks: What is Luxury? I had never thought about luxury in this way before, but when I did, I thought of all the people that are less fortunate than I who would think that the vegetables that I repeatedly toss away after dinner are luxuries. It is a very clichéd thought but I feel that it is labeled a cliché by the people, like me, who do not do enough to help the millions of people who do not know when their next meal will be, or even where they will sleep.

Our Garbage

His luxury

 

Why is it acceptable that Carlos Slim, the richest man in the world, is worth $55 billion dollars, enough money to run a small country, while nearly half of the world’s population lives in poverty? Upwards of 3 billion people live on less than $2.50 a day, more than 1.3 billion live in extreme poverty, less than $1.25 a day. 22,000 children die EVERY DAY as a result of poverty. I still cannot fully comprehend the severity of these numbers and this is not an area that I have looked into before, but that in itself is a problem.

Our society amazes me by the fact that the people in countries as well off as America, myself included, worry about Bruce turning into Caitlin but not about any real problems. In the time it has taken me to develop this post thus far, 4,736 children have died. I am most likely going to forget about this post the second after I post it because of how emotionally devastating of a topic it is to think about. I don’t know if you guys can relate but I want something to be done for the less fortunate but I don’t see myself doing anything to significantly impact the problem.

I think that as soon as I post the article, I will move on and not act on any of what I am feeling right now. I just don’t understand why this happens. Why do we walk past the homeless on the street, is the overused excuse that “they might use the money I give them for drugs, so I won’t give” good enough? I realize that I am exactly the type of person that I am criticizing and that bothers me but not enough to start handing a dollar to every homeless I see, but not enough to travel to some of the most problem-ridden parts of the world and doing something to help.

Sticking With Our Identity

One’s culture greatly defines how they perceive art, but if you are born in an aboriginal world then art is no longer perceived the same way as an average person would like to believe. Too often, we are stuck thinking in very conventional and non-original ideas. In Randy Kennedy’s “An Aboriginal Artist’s Dizzying New York Moment,” the author describes a man that came from a long lost tribe that hadn’t assimilated into civilization until 1984. This man, Warlimpirrnga Tjapaltjarri, was raised in a remote desert in Western Australia. It was “so remote that even after other Pintupi were forcibly relocated into settlements in the 1950’s and 1960’s.” Mr. Tjapaltjarri’s art seems so abstract to a regular person, but he is having fun telling the stories of his people and of his ancestors through seemingly simplistic lines. His art is so different that most of his work doesn’t have any titles, which allows the viewers to make their own assumptions and ideas fly.

Warlimpirrnga Tjapaltjarri was the head leader of the Pintupi Nine, also known as the “lost tribe”, who insisted they were separated from their other Pintupi clan members. The group consisted of two sisters and their seven teenage children, where they would travel from waterhole to waterhole, just like their ancestors. They were so isolated from society that they were “…overwhelmed by the experience of travelling in a car for the first time.” In addition, “The plane would fly over and we would hide in the tree. We would see the wings of the plane and we would get frightened. We thought it was the devil and so we kept hiding under the tree. When the plane had passed we would climb down from the tree.” They weren’t found until 1984 by pure chance, but they can be shown as a prime example of people that weren’t influenced by the outside world for a good amount of time.

_79899864_rexfeatures_raod_4325345aLiving in modern society, we often are influenced by many different cultures around the world. But, in the case of Mr. Tjapaltjarri, he was only influenced by “ceremonial designs that Pintupi men used on rocks, spears and their bodies.” The art really speaks with nature because it really seems like Mr. Tjapaltjarri drew in the desert sand and froze it in a specific movement. Making desert paintings is no easy task, as these paintings consist of “…thousands of dots — a signature of much Desert Paintings. The dots form tight parallel lines…” This exemplifies the difference between modern people and “old-school” people, in today’s society we lack the mental capacity to focus on something that requires all of our attention because we are always overthinking on what we should be doing next.

19ABORIGINE-master675Mr. Tjapaltjarri’s artwork reminds me of a child in the sandbox with a branch who is drawing anything he/she wants in the sand. His artwork is so unrestricted from a mental-state and an artistic point-of-view, even though it seems so simplistic, each line in his works is another reason to enjoy life. His artwork is a reminder of where he came from, where his ancestors came from, and what he has endured all these years. Being in America, sometimes we forget about our own heritage and family history. Maybe we should reflect more about our family history. Perhaps we can get a better understanding of our identity. There is no doubt in my mind that Tjapaltjarri understands the value of culture and family.

“The lines and switchbacks, painted on linen canvas while it is flat on the ground, correspond to mythical stories about the Pintupi and the formation of the desert world in which they live.” The paintings are like topography maps,  as they show geographers a story about a landscape at an average wouldn’t know. Tjapaltjarri’s work tells Pintupi a story about their ancestor, his works allow us to create our own stories just by gazing at it.

The Unwritten Histories

When one develops an urge to enrich himself/herself with the knowledge of another culture what would be their main source of information? Many would turn to google or on a rare occasion even to the library, and to be honest I would’ve done the exact same thing. New York Times journalist Holland Cotter, however, has more creative and innovative idea on how to learn more about a culture’s history in his article, “Review: ‘Kongo: Power and Majesty’ at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.”

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Cotter believes that art is the key to learning the truth of a cultures history. He uses the new Kongo exhibit in the MET as an example. He mentioned how the people of the Kongo region didn’t take records of their history or important events for most of their early generations. Due to this, westerners never really understood their cultures and what they have truly been through. Cotter goes on to say that this is not the case, the people of Kongo have always been keeping records of important events in their cultures, just not in the traditional way of paper and pen.

The Kongo people have recorded important events of their pasts with the help of art. They used sculptures, paintings, engravings, masks, religious objects, and ceramics to record their history. I was fascinated by their clever and unique artworks that had so much to say about their cultures. I completely agree with Cotter and feel that artwork is a great tool to record one’s history.

18KONGOJP3-blog427            This tusk carving is a great example of how the Kongo people used art to record their history. This carving depicts Kongo’s relations with European countries. At the beginning of the tusk, it seems as if everyone is happy with their relations and there is a mutual respect between them. The second visible level depicts upper class Europeans making shady deals with some Kongo people. With the help of these deals, Portugal, France, and mainly Britain began enslaving the people of Kongo. They managed to chain up a third of the Kongo population by 1850. As one could see this small tusk artwork told us so much about the people of Kongo.

 

There are other great examples of the Kongo artworks that depict their culture if you’re interested. I believe that this is a much better and more enjoyable way to present one’s cultural history than the way of a classic textbook.

 

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