Category: Blog Posts (Page 5 of 6)

In this poem I describe my personal view of Sheila Pepe’s artwork, located in Madison Square Park, most widely known as “My Neighbor’s Garden”. I try to embody my noticings in her artwork through giving descriptions and thoughts on what I viewed. I try to use this poem to show how Pepe’s work builds community and shapes space. She uses her artwork to raise more awareness between New Yorkers about the feminist movement.

Walking into Madison Square Park,

hues of rosy pinks, fiery oranges, periwinkle purples

yearning for attention from fellow pedestrians

Thick and thin patterns of intertwined fibers

Wrap around the cocoa colored tree branches

Viridescent vines begin to expand

Creating a web like structure

Leading optimism into people’s lives

Materials of Nylon and Cottons stretch in great heights

Further promoting feminism

Concepts of women’s liberation

Reflects off of Pepe’s composition

Illustrating the significance of community

A representation that inspires

A representation that provokes

A representation that challenges

I decided to express my reflection of our exploration of the city through an art form I am extremely passionate about-fashion. Although I am not a designer myself, I believe it is also an art form to put together outfits. I put this outfit together inspired by the crocheted art we saw in Madison Square Park. I found this art extremely beautiful and inspiring, and I also loved that the artist was a female. The crochet top is inspired by the crochet included in the artwork. The 2000s style is because I was born in 2005, and as a child my Mom tells me she would take me all the time to Madison Square Park. The pants are also a very popular street style which seems to mix in with the culture and fashion of New York City. Lastly, the floral earrings are inspired by flowers found around the park. I wanted to combine my own passion and love of the city with the beautiful and colorful art from the park.

I tried many different ways to get the photos to upload and it’s not working so I attached a link to the photos instead!

Hi all, this is a short story I have come up with after walking through the park during class this week. I could not attach any pictures due to space allocation problems with the length of text.

Late For Class

Letting out a sigh upon gazing at the digits on the device that failed to wake me up at the appropriate time, I realized today would be a “running day”. This was the third time I was late this semester and my professor had already scolded me for a moment after class last week. I could not afford to twist a squeaky door handle to a room filled with students who were on time, responsibly listening to the lecture.

I rolled myself out of bed, quickly putting together an outfit, while brushing my teeth, making breakfast, and sighing again when I realize I didn’t even charge my laptop the night before. Regardless, being late was not an option. In exactly 23 minutes since I had woken up, I had already hugged my grandmother before leaving and somehow made it on the Grand Central train on the LIRR.

A quick moment of rest on the express train ended abruptly upon entering the Penn Station Tunnel, cutting my music off, alerting me that it was time to make a peaceful 20-minute walk, into a 10-minute run. I run to Broadway, speeding past the people on the street, prematurely crossing each street before the stoplight can get a chance to turn red.

Reaching W 26^th Street, passing the chain-smoking finance employees of UBS Bank, the secondhand smoke and the entrance of Madison Square Park alert me that I’m halfway there. Already sweating profusely, I run past the corner of the East 23^rd Street subway entrance, crowded with people coming out the last train. As I rush past the individuals clearly not in a rush, I become more frustrated within this crunch of time.

It is 2:17 and whether I make this next stop light will dictate whether I’m shut out of this classroom. I sprint to the corner of the street before the entrance of Madison square park, and I’m met with a blaring red hand that stops me in my tracks. Out of breath I look around me for comfort, and to my surprise, I see my professor, of my 2:30 lecture, dying of uncontrollable laughter after recognizing my situation. As the light turns red, and we walk across, I mirror her casual stroll through Madison Square Park staying silent and quite embarrassed. My professor finally says to me, “Look at us, right on time as usual. You see, timing is a construct, and the world often encourages us to rush.  But sometimes through coincidences like this, it reminds us that there is a reason and a rhythm for everything.” I stare at her in complete disbelief as she walks through the park completely unfazed about being late. We take time to admire the woven art appearing as decoration along the lights, and the historical figures that I usually walk right past on my usual schedule. As we walked together through the park, the conceptual lines of Professor and student seemed to become blurred. We had become characters in a story written by the city around us, outside of the grip of the construct of time. Our moments through our walk were not measured by the ticking hands of a clock, but instead the congenial nature of our words.

As I end my tour with my professor, she had explained the historical context of the eternal light flagstaff, and the statue of Admiral Glasgow. Much of which I would have never learned if I was doing my usual sprint through this park. But as we walked side by side towards the doors of Baruch, her last but most impactful words to me were, “You may not remember what I will be saying for the next hour in lecture, but the real lesson today is to remember the art of being present.”

During our viewing of the art in and around Madison Square Park, I took in many different views of the city and the varying items that fill it. On one hand, there are large, towering skyscrapers that create the skyline view the city is known for. On the other, there are parks filled with rowdy kids, animals, lively colors, commemorative statues, and plant life. In honor of these differences, I photographed three colorful paper pigeons, which I made out of colored-in recycled paper, in the foreground with some of the city’s large skyscrapers in the background. The pigeons are bright and stand out against the cold background of the gray and black buildings, and, within their folds, the writing from some of the old text on the paper can be seen, revealing that they once served another purpose but have changed to be something new.

(I have been having some trouble uploading my photo, so here is a link to a word document with the photo on it.)

I have lived in New York City my whole life, but up until Tuesday’s tour of Madison Square Park and neighborhood, I have never noticed the floating hats at 23rd street or the beautiful architectures we have in the city. Since my parents moved to America, they have worked endless hours to provide a good life for my brother and I, and because of this, I have always felt a need to become financially successful. Being financially successful will make me capable of supporting my parents in the future when they can no longer support themselves. In the midst of working towards this goal, I never found time to truly appreciate the art thats around me in New York City. When I finally took the time to see what’s around me, I grew a new sense of awe for the city. It made my life before noticing the art seem so mundane. With seeing the art around me, I also found a new sense of motivation and appreciation for life; seeing so much life in the city makes life in general seem so much more enjoyable and intriguing. These series of thoughts were taken into account to make the poem I attached below.

____________________________________________________

The city of lights

but I have narrowed my vision towards one sight.

One vision, one plan, one goal.

Financial success.

Stay focused, work hard, and don’t compromise

That’s how I’ll achieve what I seek.

library is home

read textbooks, complete assignments, repeat

the rewards of my effort will be sweet.

dreaming of visiting Paris and seeing the beauties oversees

knowing my success will get me there.

But little did I know,

what I seek is in front of my eyes if I took the time to stare.

The Courthouse down at Madison is there

It’s not Paris, but the building’s beauty sure is

My mind is in awe, when I see Beaux-Art intricately incorporated.

But, I can’t help but feel frustrated

Would I have missed this, if it was not for Tuesday?

Speaking of which

there’s floating hats on twenty-third.

Perhaps I am a nerd

Never have I noticed them until now

because my eyes were glued to

my one vison, one plan, one goal

The hats were so vibrant

shades of pink, blue, green.

Art is all around us

we need to stop and stare

because before you know it

it may be gone in a second

or never appreciated.

Life will be dated

with little inspiration to stay motivated

The neighborhood that I live in is Dyker Heights which is known for its Christmas lights. I did a rushed drawing on one of the most well-known houses in my neighborhood, Lucy Spata’s house. They were the first ones who started to decorate the plain houses of this neighborhood during the holidays. Lucy and her husband Angelo Spata, moved here in 1986 and noticed how there were no decorations on the houses and they decided to do something about it. Lucy grew up in a family where her mother was festive and accessorized the house so she wanted to continue the family traditions. She decorates the lawn with angels to commemorate her mother’s traditions and now she has a sign up to memorialize for husband who passed away. She has continued on this festivity for 30 years now and many people come every year to see her house. She has started one of the brightest attractions in the city!

In this poem, I use the floating hats that we saw on the subway and the crochet art to represent the connection between New Yorkers. No matter how diverse and different we are, there is a connection between us all and I use Madison Square Park as a center of that connection.  

In the midst of all the green, lays intricate chain of strings

As if they connect parts of New York to each other 

As if they connect people together

Each person who comes through this place, leaves with a piece of string

They go home to wherever they live before coming back

Like me, making my way back out east to Long Island

Long Island, the town of sleepy people

Driving and the beach is all there is to do

A suburban town, but not without its unique charm that is brought back into the city

With each person weaving in and out of Madison Square Park

As if one is crocheting

A pattern starts to form

A city full of all kinds of hats 

All floating away as a blur and a rush can be felt as the subway disappears into the dark

But always returning the very next day to do it again

I made a scrapbook-inspired collage of the pictures I took around 23rd Street. Ironically, I take the R train to school every day, but I failed to see the floating hats and the art pieces in the park. I feel like we are often too caught up in going to places and getting our work done that we fail to slow down and admire the beauty of the city around us. 23rd Street is unique in that history and modern living coexist, and there are so many pieces of public art: whether it is architecture, monument, or protest, art is everywhere we look.

Moving to Manhattan just a few weeks ago has allowed me to see the city through an appreciative lens where there is a new view to take in at every corner. As the day fades into the night and the atmosphere completely changes, it reminds me of the changes that have occurred in my own life. Seeing the overwhelming creativity that went into making the city what it is today and how it will change tomorrow is something I do not overlook. This collage reflects the city through my eyes at seemingly mundane moments throughout the day (and night).

“Painting is just another way of keeping a diary.” Pablo Picasso. I’m not going to deny that I appreciate painting. I’ve pointed out in earlier blog posts that I enjoy a variety of artistic mediums, including music, theater, and painting. The expression “kids learn to draw before they’re taught to write” is one I frequently hear. I’m not entirely sure if that is true or not, but I have seen enough proof that if you give a child a pencil and paper, they will sketch anything, whether it exists or not. That arbitrary sketches are a form of art because we might decipher their underlying significance. Art is more than the works of renowned artists displayed in prestigious museums and galleries. It can be observed in the vivid street art that covers cityscapes, the musical street performers, the handcrafted goods manufactured by regional artists, and the rhythmic poetry written by professional poets. It serves as encouragement that everyone has creative potential that is just waiting to be discovered and expressed.

When we went out to roam around the neighborhood, I spotted a few drawings in the post office and the sculpture in Madison Park, which encouraged me to continue drawing. I would like to share a few sketches I made a few months ago for my art class in high school with everyone. Although I am not a skilled painter, I tried my best to portray my artistic thoughts. I hope you guys enjoy it.