Jerome Bel’s Disabled Theater was an extremely powerful and moving performance that uniquely involved self-pronounced actors who all had a mental deficiency. These disabilities ranged from a learning disability to trisomy 21, or down syndrome. Aside from the obvious controversy this piece would promote, Disabled Theater also tugged at the heartstrings with it’s extremely quirky cast and emotional stories. Through the power of dance, these “actors” lost all inhibitions and “acted like myself” as one of the dancers put it.

The piece was centered around a competitive platform with the translator prefacing that only 7 of the 10 performances were picked by Jerome Bel. I really enjoyed this part of the performance because it treats these performers like one would treat any performer: without discrimination. I’ve heard many times from those with mental disabilities that one of their main desires is that people stop pitying them because they cannot learn to live with their disability if everyone else reminds them of it constantly. This very human quality of the piece made the performances both more interesting and emotional. It also gives the performers a goal to work towards instead of just telling them to do whatever they want. This structure allowed for the performance to be very clean and overall enjoyable.

The piece was also very emotionally charged. Preceding the performances was a half-hour introduction of the performers, allowing us to hear their voices as they told us their profession and their disability. Additionally, every performance was so heartfelt that the audience could sense the hard work and enjoyment seeping through the music and the dances. As someone was performing, the emotion of their piece melded very well with the disposition of the other performers as they moved to the music, often singing the words or even fooling around with each other. This piece had just enough structure to allow for the actors to look unscripted. It also added to the piece, making it look very natural and fun. Throughout all the performances, I was smiling non-stop at the effort I saw being displayed on stage as well as the enjoyment on the faces of the performers, regardless of whether or not they were the center stage or waiting in the background. This was definitely one of the most enjoyable elements of the piece and also a factor in it’s individuality.

When speaking about emotion, one cannot help but thing about the effects of this piece on the performers and how they will live after their tour is over. As adults with mental disabilities, they require assistance with many everyday tasks. Their guardians still take care of them, and many of the performers have stated how unenjoyable they can be to their parents. Herein lies the question of whether or not Jerome Bel should keep in touch with these performers after the shows or if he should treat them like any other performer and left them move on with their lives. One might think that if he goes with the latter, he was only using these performers to bring attention to his piece, and subsequently himself as well. However, if adhering to the idea that the mentally disadvantaged want to be treated without pity, one might think the former is a good idea. Personally, I would want Jerome to keep in touch with them and possibly include them in another piece. Seeing their enjoyment as they were on stage was very heartwarming for me and invigorating for them. I’d hope that they continue honing their talent.

When one thinks of people with a mental disability, the image of a mostly incapacitated person comes to mind. Disabled Theater challenges this idea, providing a platform for 10 very talented but disabled adults to vent their feelings in a fun and creative manner. If this show was shown again, I would very much consider watching it again. It is possibly my favorite show this year, only rivaled by Two Boys.

-Stanley Chen (Blog A)

Pascal Rambert’s A micro(history) of world economics, danced tried to combine many elements of theater and dance together in a unique and sometimes abstract conglomeration. However, it lacked much cohesion and felt quite disjointed at most times. Additionally, the immense amount of activity during some stages was extremely jarring and often distracting. The acting and musical talent in this piece could not carry what ultimately, was not dance, but display of poorly glued parts that fell apart.

With a title like A micro(history) of world economics, danced, one would think that dance would be the strongest suit in this performance. However, if anything, it tore the weak strings struggling to keep everything in one piece. Whenever dance was featured, which was quite rare to begin with, it seemed thrust into a scene that really did not welcome it. This was common during the lectures of Eric Mechoulan. The juxtaposition of his speaking and the dancing did not meld well because I would often accidentally drown out what he was saying because I was focusing on someone’s dancing. That eventually led to confusion once I switched my attention back to the speaker. This happened frequently.

The music and acting, although not the focal point of the show, did very well in relation to the other elements. The harmonious chorus and humorous acting kept me very interested in between the lectures. Both kept me interested when the disjointedness of the performance lost my attention. The chorus sounded very beautiful and the background music did well to communicate the overall atmosphere of the scene. The acting was my favorite element. It combined a unique use of props with expert line delivery and use of facial expressions to make very humorous and ultimately educational scenes in history. The use of fake moustaches whenever the female actors were playing males were very entertaining and their placement was a simple but effective choice. With music and acting as the performance’s strengths, it’s a wonder why the title chose to emphasize the dance segment.

Although Rambert’s A (micro)history of world economics, danced had it’s strengths and faults, the ultimate weakness was its lack of cohesion. With a poorly connected clump of theatric, musical and dance elements, this show was doomed to fail. The concept of this performance made me very interested and curious as to what the show would bring, but if the “dance” did not have much dance, I fail to see what it wanted to accomplish.

-Stanley Chen (Blog A)

Andre Kertesz’s The White Horse is a beautiful example of photography done right. From the rule of thirds to the seemly simple composition, this photo really exemplifies a mastery of photography and visual spacial recognition.

From the start, you can see the rule of thirds being used to emphasize the contrasting themes in this photo. The tree takes up one third of the space while the architecture and other artificial figures take up the rest of the space. This tells you that the emphasis is on the cityscape. It’s also interesting to mention that the rule of thirds also is not used to emphasize any of the figures in the photo. Instead, the lack thereof fits into the photo’s message of the contrast between nature and the urban environment. Two of the points of contact are on natural figures (the tree and the bushes) while the other two are on artificial structures (The road and the fence).

There are also many examples of pointing in this photo as well. The most obvious one is the umbrella pointing towards the dog and a lady walking. The branches on the tree also work to point towards those two figures as well. There are even examples on the fence and the roof towards the bottom of the photo. They all point towards the center of the photo to emphasize not only the people walking but the road as well.

The title of the photo, “The White Horse“, is still a fit title. The color contrasts in this photo brings out the whites and dark blacks in this photo. Therefore, the emphasis on the black focuses on the shadows of the dogs while the whites bring out the fence and the white horse. The fence creates a barrier between the two other figures. It adds to the emphasis on the contrasts of nature and the cityscape. A woman in business attire walking a dog (man’s best friend?) is a very city-related activity. On the other side of the fence, the horse is a symbol of the pastoral and rural. However, it’s very out of place in this photo. It even looks like it is on the edge of leaving. The fact that it is not emphasized in the rule of thirds only adds to how out of place it is. There’s a struggle for attention between the woman and the dog and the horse. The careful melding of nature with city seems to add to the argument that both seem to be alive and well.

“The White Horse” uses some aspects of photography like the rule of thirds, but chooses to leave some out in order to create a contrast between the two opposing forces in this photo: nature and man. The focal point in this photo is the white horse, and how it struggles to leave the frame.

Being able to watch John Jasperse’s rehearsal was one of the most intimate and eye-opening events I’ve ever had the honor of participating in. I’ve always had an appreciation for arts, even the ones that I have trouble fully understanding, and John Jaspere’s choreography definitely falls into the latter. His unique take on movement and music alienated me at first but after seeing him work with his dancers and absorbing the energy, I started to understand what made his choreography great dance.

The intimacy of the rehearsal was the most valuable part of the whole event for me. I am not a dancer, and I do not know many dancers very personally, so I’ve never been able to understand how much work goes into perfecting a dance for a performance. The dancers were obviously very talented, but they still made mistakes, many of which I didn’t even notice. However, after revisions were made, I could see the effect of subtle corrections on the piece as a whole. Before, the dance was graceful and intricate, but every revision brought it closer to cohesion. Additionally, I really enjoyed watching the relationship Jasperse had with his dancers, Stewart and Simon. Jasperse was really open to criticism and commentary from his dancers, making the whole performance a collaborative effort. This put a type of feeling into the dance that only hard work and a love for dance can bring. It really helped ground the performance to a point where I could really understand.

I also enjoyed the unfamiliarity of the whole rehearsal, and the dance itself. Having to critically think about every movement and how they work with each other was enjoyable in itself. Once I began to form a faint feeling of understanding, I became very excited and that helped me enjoy the dance more. Jasperse wanted to try to convey perspectives in his choreography and I feel like I really felt that when I had to look at the dance with different perspectives. I don’t know if that was intentional, but it helped me connect with the dance on a personal plane.

I’m very glad I was able to watch John Jasperse’s rehearsal. It brought modern dance into a new light for me; before I could not envision understanding it but now, I have a understanding that could only be achieved by watching a performance live. Otherwise, I would have been very distant from the dance both physically and mentally. Ideally, art should be experienced with as little space between someone and the piece as possible.

-Stanley (Blog A)

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/23/arts/dance/john-j-zullo-dance-raw-movement-delves-into-the-past.html?ref=dance

“Total Recall: Reconstructing Memory, for Better or Worse”, a review by Gia Kourlas, gives a denouncing analysis of Raw Movements’ attempt at exploring the novel and familiarity of memory. Most, if not all, of the article was riddled with disappointment and boredom as she listed the different ways the performance did not do it for her. With no mercy, she strikes down the performance as having “little lasting effect”.

Although not the review I expected, I really liked the review, mostly for its brutal honesty. She tears down every part of the performance into its bare essences, and continues to destroy that as well. There is almost a personal feeling of regret in there. This allows us to see his opinion while letting us understand a part of the performance, as if we could see it ourselves.

Kourlas’ review strayed quite a bit from the Feldman model. As opposed to describing the work, then analyzing it, then interpreting it, and finally evaluating it, she mixes the order of these within a chronological retelling of the performance. She gives her interpretation first, giving us the idea of a profound and successful performance, but begins to tear down the veil by giving her opinion among the description and analysis. I liked this loose structure more because it seemed more natural. It made the review really easy to understand and follow.

Overall, although this review didn’t exactly follow the Feldman structure, it was still successful at conveying all the information that the Feldman structure did in a very pleasant way. After reading about dance critiquing, I now understand how to analyze a dance performance, but I also see how you don’t need to adhere to that too religiously.

After reading the writings of John Berger and Sylvan Barnett, I began to look at art from many perspectives, much like the art movement of Cubism encourages. At first, I looked at the art with only the knowledge in my head, much like a first impression. Then, I looked at the description to better understand the context of the painting, and possibly the meaning as well.

One of the pieces of work I focused on was Les Demiselles d’Avignon (1907) by Pablo Picasso. This famous work of art is one that I’ve seen before, but it still captured my attention from the other pieces in the room. The painting, consisting of five nude women and a fruit centerpiece, made me feel somber and admiring at the same time. I looked at the colors used in the painting as well as the faces of the women to try to capture the atmosphere of the painting. Overall, the earthy colors mix well with the light colors in the background to give this piece a mellow but bright mood. However, the coloring on the woman in the back on the far right has a discolored and distorted face, making her seem non-human in a way. However, her overall figure is very beautiful. This showed me that there’s beauty even in unlikely situations. After looking at the description, I remembered that I learned Picasso used prostitutes as models for this painting. I really liked that context because it furthered the idea that beauty is found even in the unlikely. Many people, in separate contexts would say this painting is beautiful but prostitution is an ugly practice, but Picasso found a way to make a statement on how beauty is universal.

The other piece of art I focused on was The Sleeping Gypsy, a painting by Henri Rousseau. I also recognize this painting but with less clarity than I did with Picasso’s work.  Here is a picture of a sleeping vagabond woman being harmlessly passed by a lion. I really love the primitive nature of Rousseau’s painting. It doesn’t seem anything except the meaning to wonder. He finds beauty in simplicity. I also really like the meaning that the painting shows me.The lion, known to be a vicious and carnivorous (especially in 1897 when this was painted) animal, peacefully passes the gypsy. I can also see a feeling of pity and reluctance in the lion’s eyes when he is doing is. He wants to consume this woman, but refains, possibly because she is unconscious, or because he feels pity for her humble existence. Her instrument and jug of water speak to how she lives; she wanders and survives on the little water she can gather and the money she makes from music. It’s a type of harmony that many don’t associate with animals like the lion.

I find that the works of Barnett and Berger did change how I looked at works of art. They discussed the historical context of paintings, namely the 1500s-1900s, as that was the emphasis on oil on canvas paintings. This style allowed painters to really sell their paintings. The two works I focused on were very close to the end of this period, so, although they were oil on canvas paintings, they seemed to be painting less for public appeal and more for the artists’ own expression. Additionally, because I’m learning about cubism and Pablo Picasso was one of its pioneers, I also know about the initial opposition toward his work, which further cements that idea.

Overall, I really enjoyed going to the MOMA. It allowed me to experience something that is familiar to me because I have learned about them before, but unfamiliar because I don’t find it very interesting. Despite that, I liked interpreting paintings because it allows me to look at myself and the artist through the perspective of the painting.

To me, art appears in odd ways. I tend to find it in the things I love, such as film, television and literature. However, I find it incredibly difficult to appreciate the other forms of visual arts that I have no passion for. Although my thoughts remain, in all, the same, John Berger’s Ways of Seeing and Sylvan Barnet’s  A Short Guide to Writing About Art have given me insight as to the significance of art, whether that is based on assumptions gained by looking at the painting or conclusions drawn by examining the context of the painting and its artist.

In Berger’s Ways of Seeing, the idea of perception is explored through the eyes the average spectator. In other words, our view of art is a creation of our own speculation, or as Berger puts it, “mystification” (Berger 11). We all assume that art always has a set of attributes which includes beauty, genius, taste etc. However, these assumptions “mystify rather than clarify” (Berger 11). This “mystification” obscures the art from being seen as it truly is. These misconceptions romanticize paintings until they are at such a distance that the only thing we can do is admire, but not observe and think. Because of this, we are unable to acquire the full context of a piece of art. Instead, we create an image of it that is pruned to our expectations of what a piece of art is. Therefore, when I will go to the MOMA, or any art museum for that matter, I now have a sort of reasonable suspicion for paintings. I’ll hesitate before endowing the painting with set requirements that it may or may not have. Instead, I will look at the history, and insert a certain context that will clarify rather than mystify.

Berger further discusses historical context in his book, but through the method and art form of oil painting. This portion of the book is quite similar to the aforementioned chapter, but it specifically analyzes the time period of the 1500s to the 1900s, when oil painting was most prominent. Berger uses oil painting because “it reduced everything to the equality of objects. Everything became exchangeable because everything became a commodity”. Here, Berger links oil painting with the possession of art. When looking at these pieces of art, many will notice the extravagance and dismiss it as mere beauty. However, Berger places that quality under scrutiny and suggests that extravagance being a common trait in many oil paintings, excluding a few rare exceptions, is to allow for their owners to boast about their wealth and power. Knowing this, the painting seems less beautiful and more of a medium for self-admiration and boasting. Those without this feature I will examine more closely because that might indicate a deeper and more personal meaning that the painter wanted to convey, like Rembrandt’s self portraits.

Barnet also discusses the context of context of paintings in his A Short Guide to Writing About Art. He asks the ever-relevant question, “What is Art?” In answering this question, Barnet draws upon the view of its spectators while ignoring the historical and social context of the art. This is coined as the Institutional Theory of Art. This perspective forces me to examine the authority of art institutions that seem to have the right to choose what we see as art. Barnet also looks at the other side of the coin. What is called the reception theory suggests that art is not the painting or work itself, but the activity of a spectator making sense of the work. I like this idea more because it places the burden of responsibility onto the observer. Otherwise, what is art if it cannot be observed? By having institutions choose for us what art is and isn’t, it takes away the point of observing a piece of artwork. When you observe art, you evaluate it. If you already know the end result, what is the point then?

Both Sylvan Barnet and John Berger have prompted me to be more analytical when it comes to forms of art that I am not quite interested in. Whether or not I find immediate pleasure in it, art is important and meaningful. To deny that would be to deny the existence of the art itself.