I know I mentioned this in class, but I thought it would be a good way to start off this post.  Thursday morning, I bumped into Ilizar on the train and we ended up talking about our self-portraits.  I remember him giving me a very humble response, saying something along the lines of “I’ll just be drumming with my drumsticks.  Nothing big really”.  After watching his self-portrait, I saw it was the complete opposite.

Already from the beginning, Ilizar’s self-portrait was unique because he started off with an entrance (Sorry again for not catching that on video!).  He strolled in with his backpack singing some tune.  We then got to see a glimpse into Ilizar’s daily life.  He puts down his backpack, his headphones, keys and wallet before going on to make something for himself to eat/drink.  Although we weren’t allowed to use spoken word, his single utterance of “OMG!” really emphasized his arms flailing in the air and jumped backwards.  He takes out his laptop and books to do his work while beat-boxing and tapping on the table and his thighs.  He also took out his drumsticks, which surprisingly he never used during the performance.  He writes a bit on his To-Do list, before he starts typing to a very catchy rhythm on his laptop, while tapping his foot at the same time.  At this point, he is very focused but he seems a bit frustrated.

This is when he starts clearing his table, first of his school stuff.  He then looks at his drumsticks and makes the facial expression “Drumsticks? I can do without them”.  As he plugs his headphones, he is still concentrated, but in a more relaxed way.  He starts tapping on the table and tapping his foot, putting aside the pencil he was tapping with and his glasses.  I really liked the transition of a really cluttered table in the beginning to a bare table at the end.  Although Prof. Uchizono told us to rehearse our self-portrait, all of Ilizar’s rhythms seemed improvised which made it all the more impressive.  At the end, he even incorporated asking for how much time had passed as talking to himself, which made it not disruptive.  Ilizar’s self-portrait was an exciting, rhythmic show for us to watch.

I felt that Ilizar’s and my self-portrait had a common theme.  Both of us presented two different sides of ourselves.  For me, it was solving Science Olympiad: Physics problems and baking.  For him, it was completing tasks on his To-Do list, which made him seem very organized, and drumming.  I think this showed how we enjoyed doing things that were structural, but others that were more creative in nature. Baking and drumming were our ways of relaxing and putting our minds off work for a bit. I also noticed that we incorporated work with play.  I would problem-solve while waiting for my cupcakes to be done, while he tapped out a few rhythms while working.  We both had the show component, my cupcakes and the latter half of his self-portrait, but we also were in our own worlds before that.  What I like is that although we had similar ideas, our self-portraits came across differently because of our interests and really revealed who we were.

~Erica Kwong (Blog B)

Jocelyn’s self portrait proved that emotions can define a person. Her use of poignant events from her life made me connect on a personal level. In recognizing these emotional connections, I could better understand who she was based on this vicarious experience. Our experiences in our lives define who we are- not in the events themselves but rather in the way we react to such events. Thus, the use of grief and sorrow and the strength that developed gave me a strong sense of who she is. Jocelyn expressed much of her pain through the loss of others. This, along with the heart that eventually ripped told me that she is very attached to others in her life. By mentioning other people in her self-portrait, she is possibly suggesting that others make her whole and fulfill her to some degree. Seeing Jocelyn’s progression from refusing to talk to opening up significantly showed her personal growth. The stages of her self-portrait was something I found to be similar to my own self-portrait. I started my self-portrait by cutting a figure out from a drawn image, then cut out the pieces of the puzzle that made up the face, then arranged the pieces back together to reconstruct the face. In doing so, I also strived to show progression.

The dismantlement of the face was my way of illustrating my introspection in knowing who I myself am. When I was contemplating how I should convey myself through a portrait, I could not help but acknowledge that in our modern day society, one cannot help but be influenced by mainstream ideas. Often, unconsciously, we see ourselves through lens constructed by mainstream media. Labels come up that may be irrelevant to identity, yet society may deem it to be so. Thus, my rearrangement of the puzzle pieces was my way of reflecting that my own sense of who I really am has been developing as I look past these external influences. My portrait differed from Jocelyn’s in that hers focused on life experience and the way it has shaped her, while mine focused on my current state of mind and how it reflects my inner psyche. Both, however, displayed a development that had a hopeful and positive ending.

~Prima (Blog B)

Last week, Kyle had the daunting–and rather impressive–responsibility of being the first to present his self-portrait to the class. He was at odds with the fact that he was unable to explain his piece prior to performing it, which became understandable once he explained that the music he had used in the portrait had been his own composition. His piece consisted of him attempting to write in his notebook while simultaneously being interrupted by the constant playing of music from his laptop. Kyle interestingly uses his left hand to cross over his right to play/pause the music, demonstrating how he feels he must suppress this desire to embrace his musical side while also revealing the moments when he is able to express this desire, however brief they may be. Halfway through the piece, Kyle leaves the desk and begins exercising, doing basic training drills such as push-ups, jogging in place, and jumping jacks, paralleling the crescendo of the music from the laptop and its heavier bass beat and rhythm. At the end, he returns to the desk and picks up his notebook, no longer reaching over to turn off the music. It seems that Kyle has accepted the music’s presence and his final action is to turn his notebook around and reveal what he has been writing all along: the Chinese phrase for “Arts in New York City”.

One aspect that I felt I was really able to relate to through Kyle’s self-portrait was the presence of an internal duality of self. In the taste-themed portion of my portrait, I placed both American candies (Twix) and Chinese ones (fruit jellies) inside of Chinese takeout containers on which I wrote “Made in America”. This was my attempt to portray the duality of culture I feel in having been born and raised in America and having to struggle to reconcile this fact with my Chinese heritage and upbringing. Although Kyle’s duality pertains to his love of music and creative expression versus the more rigid structure of studying and training/fitness, I felt that both of our portraits were making a point about how frustrating it can be to have this internal back-and-forth of ideals, but also how liberating it can be to fully embrace every aspect of the self.

I also noticed that Kyle and I both made heavy use of music in our portraits, allowing it to become a central point in our pieces and even adopt a meaning of its own through its pervasive presence. When I first approached this project, I knew for sure that music would be one of the first things I would incorporate. I found that the musical aspect gave my piece a kind of cohesiveness and also something for me to find comfort in just in case I ever felt lost in the midst of my presentation. I felt a connection to Kyle’s portrait because it seemed that he interpreted his use of music in a similar way. Music offered us both a way to speak without the need for words.

Despite the many similarities I saw between my portrait and Kyle’s, I did feel like we differed in execution. My intent was to be slightly more abstract with my portrait and I wanted the audience to be able to make connections both between the various items/ideas I was presenting and between the ideas and myself. Kyle’s portrait seemed to present a more concrete story that had a beginning, middle, and end. He was telling one cohesive piece to us about one major aspect of his personality whereas I presented more fragmented and varied aspects of myself that all were connected through the commonality of the five senses. Although Kyle’s method was not how I chose to represent my particular portrait, I really appreciated the skill and thought that went into being able to present the piece with such clarity. His choices throughout the performance were deliberate and exact and I was very impressed overall by his portrait. He certainly set the bar high for the rest of the class!

–Norine Chan (Blog A)

Jill Rodesk and I had very different self-portraits.  Hers was all about interacting with the audience, whereas mine was purely a spectacle to watch.

After much thought as to what to do about my self-portrait, I decided to showcase things that are important to me: music, Chinese, exercise, and studying.  My original thought was to write some of my favorite activities on a pre-cut heart made of paper.  I would have drawn this out to be four minutes or so, and this would have been BORING.

I realized that the only interesting way I could show who I am was to do it through dance.  Dance is defined as movement, usually rhythmic to music.  That’s what I tried to accomplish.  For example, my hand gracefully reached toward the keyboard in sync to the soft music, and then I performed my exercise routine during the intense part of the song.  Two very different motions, but both were motions and both were to music.

I was so nervous before performing my act, because, honestly, it was embarrassing and ridiculous.  But once I was up there, showing shortened versions of things I love – things that make up my life – I felt comfortable and excited.

Unlike Jill, I never thought about interacting with the audience.  That would have been fun, but I just didn’t think about it.

Despite our portraits being totally different styles, we did have one thing in common: the “drop.”  My dubstep piece started off with piano and a gospel choir.  This was the time during which I was trying to study but my hand kept, unwillingly, creeping over my body and starting the music again.  The idea was to show that my brain was conflicted: did I want the music on or not?  In my performance, it was supposed to appear as “I truly don’t know.”  As the song neared 1 minute and 30 seconds, the beat started getting faster and more aggressive.  This created a feeling of anticipation.  Finally, it “dropped.”  That means that it went from piano and gospel to fortissimo.  That’s when I threw down my notebook and started to exercise.

Jill’s piece also, in some sense, had a buildup and a drop.  When she handed out her slips of paper, we noticed that they all said to wait until she counted to three.  She started building up anticipation from the beginning, like my music piece.  Then finally, at the end of her piece, she laid down the drop: the countdown from 1 to 3, leading to the opening of the papers she handed out.  It was exciting!  And I’m sure it also made some people’s day.

Kyle Leighton (Blog B, I think)

For this blog post, I am writing about Erica’s self portrait. Erica’s self-portrait was unique, because it was the only one that had to be redone. Her first attempt showcased a power-point highlighting important things from her life, like her family, piano-playing and her baking. To complete her power-point, Erica had baked some cookies to give the class. While it was nice, it was on the boring side because there was nothing to actively engage the class. In comparison, in her redone self-portrait, Erica mimicked the very actions she takes when she bakes. Placing her tray in an imaginary oven, she took out her phone and set the timer for her treats. I found it interesting that before the portrait started, she decided to use her own phone because she said it allowed her to set the time with a precision down to the seconds. She  then goes to sit down in her chair, her laptop next to her and pages of homework on her lap. Her baking supplies are neatly arranged next to her laptop, showing her thoroughness and her commitment to what she is doing. Her Science Olympiad shirt and Einstein cradle show her passion for the sciences. As Erika continued to do her homework while she waited for the timer to hit 0, I liked the stillness that fell over the room, permeated by the periodic clicking of the Einstein’s cradle. It was rather calming watching her complete her work, thoroughly working through the problems with a slight furrow on her face. When she stumbled on a problem that stumped her, rather than skipping over it or simply asking someone for help, she decided to go online and do what she needed to do. It reinforced the idea that she’s thorough in whatever she does. As soon as the timer went off, Erica’s entire body relaxed. A small smile reached her lips, and it was almost as if there was nothing between her and her baking. Baking seemed to be her solace- her way of distressing after a long day.

Before taking the baked goods out of the oven, Erica took a toothpick to make sure they were properly done. Her smooth actions showed that she’s been baking for a long time and really understands the process.  She then takes out her tray, placing it on the table. I liked that she took a cupcake out and showed us the process of icing and placing sprinkles on it. Personally, when I think of baking I always imagine them coming out of the oven perfectly cut and glazed and just ready to eat.  People sometimes forget the hard work, effort and creativity that goes into cooking, so it was nice to be reminded of it. Finally, it was great that everyone in the class was able to taste some of Erica’s cooking- it allowed her to open up and show us a little bit of her world. I really liked Erica’s second attempt at her self portrait much more than her first one- it was much more intimate and interesting. The class was engaged, wondering what was in her covered tray, listening to the steady clicks of the Einstein cradle and simply just watching her be in her element.

Malavika Attur (Blog B)

On my visit to the Museum of Modern Art, it was my goal to look and analyze Dada, a style of art created in 1916, apparently as a reaction to World War 1. I remember learning about Dadaism in art appreciation class but I had a hard time remembering what it was. I chose to go to the museum without looking into what specifically my topic was “supposed to” look like or what details where “characteristic” of it because I wanted to form my own opinions.

As a slight aside – Upon entering the museum I asked the front desk where to go for Dadaism, and they said fourth or fifth floor. I went to the fourth floor, and then the fifth floor, and then back down to the fourth, and then back up to the fifth. I asked 4 security guards and they said they hadn’t heard of It (Dadaism) and that I should go to the information desk. The information desk on the fourth floor said to go to five and ask the security guards, “They will direct you,” she said. The lady on the fifth floor told me to go to the fourth floor, “They can help you find it,” she said. After stumbling around I finally found a placard that said “Dada” and there was a small corner devoted to the works of Marcel Duchamp.

I only mention this long story because the entire time I was going from one floor to another I kept noticing certain pieces of art, and one that stood out to me was Duchamp’s “Bicycle Wheel”, so it seemed natural for me to pick that as my first piece to inspect.

I first let my initial reaction guide me. And my initial reaction was “Okay so what the hell is this, what is this supposed to mean?” and that’s when I remembered the reading I did and how in my first blog post I mention finally understanding the full profundity of Duchamps work – that art is not necessarily a painting or a pretty picture but something that makes you think, and in that sense anything is art. So I felt like I cheated, I felt like I already knew the answer. But it was naïve of me to say I understood the full profundity of Duchamp’s work, and of this Bicycle wheel. So I tried to understand where this idea that “art is anything that makes you think” came from.

Looking at the bicycle wheel I continued my thought, “so what the hell is this?” well it was a bicycle wheel that was attached to a chair in a crude, yet surprisingly sleek, manner. It was a strong sturdy chair, with a strong symmetrical presence, appearing very grounded and earthbound. It seemed that the strength and balance of the chair was artistic in and of itself, but it also appeared that the slender grace of the bicycle wheel fit with the strength of the chair. It seemed to me that these two pieces belonged together, that they helped to highlight the features of the other – the wheel highlighting the base’s strength, and the base highlighting the streamlined, infinite beauty of the wheel. And yet, these pieces individually would almost never have found their way together without the hand of Duchamp.

In viewing them, I did not find any immediate pleasure and was not immediately impressed by the art but through thinking why this piece of junk was at an art museum I learned what makes art. Rather, I learned to think about what makes art, not necessarily coming up an answer. The point however, was that I was thinking. I was thinking about the art; why it was put together in this way, what was the point, what art even is, what makes this piece of art special, why is this combination of two random objects somehow important. I feel that just by asking these questions, i was experiencing the art. These questions were part of the art piece, they were natural, they were instinctive. They are what make the art piece, a piece of art; and what makes that particular art piece worthy of being in MOMA.

I read on the placard that Dadaism was a way of rejecting the world and the First World War and I couldn’t understand what it meant. In retrospect I have come up with some semblance of an answer. Dadaism was not fighting war by putting a bunch of randomness together and saying “here, randomness and differentness and avant-gardeness, suck on that you war mongering bastards, we aren’t gonna be a part of your system.” No, it was something much more eloquent than that.

They were fighting the idea of taking things at face value, without questioning. The war started because it was without question that countries had to defend each other, and it was without question that more land was good. It was without question that we will fight this war because we are at war. This is just as Dadaism relates to war, because that is what the placard said, that Dadaism was a response to the war.

Duchamp however, and this is just speculation, had much more in mind than just war with his ready-mades. He was not saying to question just war, but to question everything, question everything that we take as obvious, things like what is art. Art is when a guy with strange hair and a frock has a palate in one hand and is drawing on an easel in the other, right? (Maybe I just think that because of watching Bob Ross as a child.) Just like we had to question our assumptions about art, Duchamp was making a statement about all of our assumptions – question them. Maybe art isn’t a guy with crazy hair and a painter’s palate in one hand, but a guy who dresses in drag and puts chairs together with bicycle wheels.

Though I think that doesn’t do justice to Duchamp because the point isn’t which one is art but rather what makes it art. And what makes it art, I think, is that you are allowed to see the world as the artist wants you to see it; that your way of seeing is temporarily distorted and altered. In the case of bicycle wheel, in order to see the art how Duchamp wanted you to see it, you have to question.

The other exhibit I chose to look at was “Rotary Demisphere” which featured an interesting apparatus, a circular, should-be rotating, half-sphere – aka a rotary demisphere. This was mounted on dark purple velvet and attached to a wooden dowel, which was inserted into a triangular, apparently wooden, base, which was circumscribed by metal. The intersection of the Dowel and the triangle was covered by an upside-down funnel shape to brace the dowel to the base. On the funnel brace there was an oblate silver light. The top of the machine was connected by two black wires to a white gear mechanism which I believe was supposed to turn the demisphere atop.

The demisphere, which was white, was marked by a black spiral, several actually, that met at the pole of the demisphere. Next to the demisphere on the ground was a cover for the top portion of the apparatus, it was a bronze disk, with a bulbous glass cover, that looked ethereal, as if the gravity inside the glass was both infinitely strong and yet non-existent. The brass was inscribed with a saying in French that sounded very hypnotic when I tried to recite it.

I could vividly imagine being transfixed by this rotating sphere, with the oblong light at the bottom flickering on and off, illuminating the entire apparatus one moment and then being in complete darkness the next. All the while the sphere is spinning and I am concentrating on the one focal point, and the hypnotic French words are being repeated over a microphone by the sound of a French woman with a cigarette in her mouth. I felt myself lost in this feeling for a few seconds, though those few seconds had the feeling of much more than a few seconds.

I don’t know exactly what Duchamp’s goal was but it seemed to be a message that art can transfix us, it can literally enthrall us, and yet it is nothing more than an illusion. The spiral on the dome gives the illusion of timelessness, of falling into and out of this frame, the glass gives the illusion of weightlessness, the earth tones highlight the whiteness of the dome, giving you a focal point, giving you that feel of intimacy with the piece – that around the piece is everything else, all the normal boring stuff of the rest of the world but you are not concerned with all that stuff, you are paying attention to the black and white spiral in the middle, and that is your world.

Art, according to Duchamp, is an illusion. Art will “trick” your mind and eye into seeing something in a certain way, that a certain combination of elements, in this case a chair and a wheel, could be art, and that art can literally draw us in and make us see. That art can trick and distort our view of reality, in the case of the Rotary Demisphere – quite literally. Duchamp’s art was not great because it was aesthetically beautiful, not completely, but because it made us look at the world in a very different way, it altered my way of seeing. And in that sense, it accomplished what a great piece of art should do.

Blog A
Ilizar Yusupov

After countless loops around the puzzling galleries of the Museum of Modern Art, a pattern began to emerge. The emphasis of human beauty in its truest form seemed to be often represented through nudity. A concept which often causes a few perverse snickers, nudity is in fact a reflection of human beauty in its deepest medium. The human body, deprived of all artificial enhancements and distractions is a template for many artists and its perception often twists into different views. Through the reading previously assigned by John Berger and Sylva Barnett, the idea of replication being a depreciating activity became a constant warning. In an attempt to not replicate, I chose the works of two different artists viewing a similar, if not identical, idea: nudity.

Both artists are world-renown and praised by even the most passionate art critics and are subject to many in-depth analyses of their works, these two masterpieces being part of such group. The first artist is known under the name Henri Rousseau. The French Post-Impressionist painter brushed a canvas known to everybody as The Dream (1910). This expansive image features two persons, perhaps both women, and uses their distinctions to create an obvious theme of contrast throughout the work. A surely unique form of art, The Dream is an interpretation of all types of beauties, both hidden and exposed. The woman in the immediate vicinity, with her cascading long hair, supple bosom, and clean curves poses an obvious comparison to the more hidden being standing in the back. This human is of questionable gender, although the skirt will imply the feminine characteristics of a woman.Her hair is puffed and short, her bosom is covered by a wind instrument and her curves are masked by the vibrant colors of her skirt. Rousseau in his depiction of these two women molded a comparison and appreciation for both aspects of femininity: from the obvious sensual attraction to the appeal of talents and skill (as the instrument and skirt infer). Through Sylva Barnett’s advice on artistic texts, I sat on the bench before this masterpiece and just observed. The countless details which will be hard to include in one concise analysis made the work even more admirable and less likely to be subject to replication.  The Dream, appropriately named, advertises the idea of infinite details that, like in a dream, can be forgotten once absent.

As a companion to Rousseau’s masterpiece, I chose a different approach to nudity showcased in a gallery only a few steps away from The Dream. This canvas by Pablo Picasso is titled Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (1907). A work advertising the presence of five nude women, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon approaches beauty in a less singular way, but rather in a collection of different perceptions of a woman’s body. All subjects of the painting are nude and their features are jagged in nature. The absence of any delicacy removes the typical appreciation of a beautiful human body and focuses audiences on the facial features and the rough curvatures of those seemingly voluptuous ladies. The presence of such distinct pattern, the one featuring five naked women, aids the viewer in identifying other details. Unlike Rousseau’s painting, Picasso’s depiction makes it easy for all to spot any other small additions to art, in this case the centerpiece consisting of a variety of plainly colored fruits. In this work, John Berger’s scorn at replication becomes a true message. These five women had all reasons to look alike and to be portrayed in such manner, but through Picasso’s careful attention to originality, these possibly alike ladies turned into five completely different nude entities. The ability to make each woman stand out is not only a praise to a deserving painter, but an acknowledgement to the concept that these very women, in fact, were thoroughly different, not just in appearance but in essence as well.

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.