Category — Aesthetic Interactions

Hey Guys,

This past visit to the Brooklyn Museum was particularly interesting. There were some exhibits which I absolutely loved, and others which I absolutely hated.

We first visited the Dinner Party, which really represented something really special for me. As a big advocate of Women’s rights, partly because of my growing with three sisters, I really appreciate when someone goes out of their way to appreciate what they have done, as the famous quote proves, “Behind every great man there is a woman.” It was also very informative. I did not recognize many of the women there, and so, when I saw Judith, the Jewish representative for Women who slaughtered Holofernes and rescued her people, I felt proud. I barely knew the story and she is part of my history, so the fact that they were hosting a dinner party to congratulate all these women on their fine accomplishments truly meant a lot to me.

And then we visited the period rooms, which were absolutely marvelous. Those rooms gave us the feel of those times, and there a hint of fear and awkwardness in each new room. We observed that there must have been nothing to do if not for work. There were no TVs, no radios, nothing to keep them from becoming bored. Their living rooms were the emptiest parts of their houses. But the fear stemmed from the darkness that lurked around each and every house that was alone for miles around them. Some of the houses were the only ones for miles on end. How could they have lived in such a distant, quiet and unsafe place? Anyone could just break into their house and kill everybody and no one would know who it was, how they did it, or even when. They could be dead for weeks before anyone would realize their absence. That point struck me the hardest. But all in all, it was an amazing experience; the rooms were absolutely delightful to visit.

And the last exhibit on the fourth floor, which resembled the Sistine Chapel in many ways, was interesting yet I could not connect to it. The art was beautiful but I could not feel an emotion broadcast. It was interesting because of its resemblance, but other than that, it was just paint on wall.

We then moved to the fifth floor, where we visited the piano and the tree, which was very cool, yet weird and eerie. I liked it because it showed that art does not have to be beautiful; it could also be scary and eerie and have a different effect, yet still be art. The fact that the piano was playing itself was also a nice trick, and added substantially to that eerie yet pleasant feeling.

And then we moved on to the Youth and Beauty Exhibit.

Unfortunately, we didn’t save the best for last. I hated it. The only thing the exhibit accomplished, in my eyes, was to make that line between pornography and nude art all the more murky. It seemed to me to be just another way to portray nude bodies, and not at all a way to portray art. Granted, it was nice to see the exhibit that we mentioned about in class, the young man pushing the wrench which turned the gear and moved the machine. That was an appealing photograph, because it portrayed the young man as a strong attractive individual, and made him seem reliable.

However, that was one of the couple of pieces of art which I enjoyed in that exhibit.

I did feel the need to continue exploring, but time waits for no one.

I do plan on returning in the near future to complete my Brooklyn Museum experience.

Joey Kabariti

Although the Brooklyn Museum is considered close compared to the other museums in the city, it’s also one of the few that I’ve never actually visited before. As someone who really loves exploring museums, I walked into the museum excited to see the different displays they had.

The Dinner Party was one of the first exhibits I saw and I must say I was disappointed. Since it was supposed to be feminist art, I thought that it would honor or show the beauty of feminism, instead I felt like it did the opposite.  I didn’t really appreciate the fact that the names were on the cloth on the bottom since it made it hard to read who the plate represented. I feel like the rigid form of the Dinner Party doesn’t really tell us what feminism is. The exhibit was way too structured and made me feel like woman were being controlled rather then increasing in power. Another thing that bothered me was how as the years passed the plates got increasingly bigger and the design would become 3 dimensional. I don’t really understand why a woman more towards the present would have a plate that pops up compared to a woman int he past. As feminist art I feel like every woman should have been given the same level of treatment because each and everyone of them made a significant impact in their own way. I was also a little bit disturbed by the art on the plates since it seemed to exploit the woman human body.

An exhibit that greatly disturbed me was Matthew Buckingham: “The Spirit and the Letter”. It was fascinating yet eerie at the same time. When I first walked in, all I saw was what seemed like a  beautiful chandelier in an upright position. Soon enough I heard a voice coming from the room and to my surprise I saw a woman on a projection. This woman however was walking on the screen upside down and would disappear and reappear on the screen at times. I really like this exhibit because it distorted everything in the room. The fact that the woman was upside down, and the chandelier was hanging compared to the chandelier next to me that was upright, made me question what was actually correct. This exhibit plays with your senses. When my friends walked in soon afterward they woman had already disappeared and they didn’t believe me when I told them a woman was there and thought I was hallucinating. Even I questioned myself for a moment as to where the woman went.

One of my favorite exhibits was Sanford Biggers: Sweet Funk – An Introspective. As someone who has played the piano for a number of years I was quite intrigued to see a tree intertwined into the piano. It was even more intriguing to see the keys play by itself. If I could I would have sat in that room and listened to the piano all day. The very image of the tree and piano left me at peace even though the exhibit itself was really strange and somewhat grotesque . It was beautiful to see nature and an instrument come together to form art. Something that disturbed me was the huge red lips you would see beyond the tree. It was as if someone was watching you from  a far and laughing at you while you were amused by the tree.

Another exhibit I thoroughly enjoyed were the period rooms. I really love being able to be a part of the art rather then to just simply look at it. I had fun walking around and looking into each different room. We could even enter some rooms to an extent. I feel like the museum really brought out the feel of the rooms. I was so tempted to just step into a room and sit on someone but thankfully there was glass preventing me from doing so. I like how the glass they used was barely visible and I wouldn’t know that I was looking through glass until I actually hit it. This exhibit showed how different things were back then. I mean my house looks nothing like Rockefeller’s house.

I really enjoyed looking at the art in the Brooklyn Museum. There are very little barriers in this museum and it allows the audience to interact and connect more with the art. A lot of the exhibits were in the open and it allowed me to see things more closely without damaging the art. I was especially surprised to see all those skateboards out in the open just laying there on the floor.

I really enjoyed our trip to the Dia Beacon. I even liked our train ride up to the museum because I saw sights that seemed to be the complete opposite of NYC. Some of the things I saw looked like mini castles which was a pleasant change from the skyscrapers of NYC. The vibrant colors of autumn emerging from the vast array of trees was really beautiful.

Then we finally got to the Dia Beacon and we were welcomed by a little colorful pletora of letters which was already a good sign!

When we started entering the exhibits, I honestly thought we would be done with them rather quickly. However, the museum was huge! On every corner there was something new to see. One of my favorite exhibits at the museum was the Work as Action: Franz Erchard Walther exhibit. When we first entered I asked Maryam and Sari what the exhibit was about. At first, none of us really had any idea what the point of it was. Then as we were going through another exhibit, Maryam figured out that the items around the side of the exhibit were meant to be used by the visitors. At that moment we ran back to the exhibit and began trying on the different items. We were like little children playing with toys. What I thought was really interesting was that we had to put the art piece exactly as we found it. One of the first things we tried on was the “Sehkanel (Channel of Sight), 1968” where two people are in complete sight of each other. The other one that we tried on was kind of like an iron man vest. Putting it on was hard but once you had it on your soliders, it felt really light. Literally, a weight was lifted off our shoulders. We even banged our head against a wall!  Another interesting aspect was that each person had to wait for another person to be done with their artwork. So if I was trying on one item, another person couldn’t try it on even if it a completely different item. Sari pointed out how she thought the artist’s intention was to make each person part of the artwork, as all of us looked on, which I thought was interesting.

Another one of my favorite exhibits was the Sol LeWitt Drawing Series. At first glance, it just looked like random lines across the wall. However, as we looked closer we saw the plan that the artist laid out for us. It was literally all the combinations of the patterns he had up. It was almost like a puzzle board with the different grids and shapes and he just scattered them all around. All of his work was based on mathematical concepts which isn’t an easy thing to do.

The Circa 1971: Early Video and Film from the EAI Archive was odd. It was filled with little television screens presenting a moment from different movies. It reminded me of an exhibit that I saw at the MOMA last year. However, the screen with the sinister looking man, pretending to shoot the viewer was pretty disturbing. It was a dark lit exhibits with vibrant colors and lights everywhere. Overall though, I was kind of scared going into and coming out of that exhibit.

The Richard Serra iron pieces were breath-taking. Going into the sculptures made me feel secluded and safe. It was serene-like, and whenever we spoke our voices would echo which was something that I am not used to. My favorite piece was the one that spiraled around, it made me feel like I was in a maze. I honestly had no idea where I was going. It was a pleasant change from hearing all the different loud noises in the city.

The Richard Serra exhibit let us into a garden which had a tiny stair-case in the middle. Going through it was kind of like a game and I feel like it was done purposely to make us feel constricted in such an open space. It was a nice kind of constricted though. And the garden was beautiful.

Finally we saw the Yvonne Rainer dance performance. I thought several aspects of the dance were odd. For instance, when the first female dancer started screaming after she put her trench coat on top of some piece of cotton, I was taken aback. I was also bewildered when she kept repeating “the sun is brighter when the sun is yellower.” My favorite part of the performance was the upbeat music and the part with the pillows/chairs. I thought the pillows/chairs routine was the most optimistic and had actual dance moves in it. I also thought that the part with all the dancers doing their individual routines was interesting since they were all so synchronized.

Overall, this was truly an extraordinary museum and I really enjoyed our trip.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself, which is unusual because normally I have no appreciation for that kind of art.  I think that taking any of the pieces by themselves I might not have cared that much, but looking at the whole place as a conglomerate, I thought it worked very well.  I loved the warehouse feeling, and the natural lighting, and how open the space was.  While I was walking around, I didn’t analyze anything, I just looked at it and let my brain do its weird thinking thing.  I would look at something and associate it with something else and get some sort of a message from it.  Like the paintings that were just white, or really pale, I thought to myself that perhaps it’s a statement of the impact of art on our everyday lives.  How something hangs on a wall for so long that we don’t notice it anymore; it might as well be color of the wall and blend in.  We let art be no better than a wall.  I also really loved the strings they had stretched between floor and ceiling.  I had trouble walking around them, or watching other people walk through them, because I kept thinking I would walk into glass.  It only takes a couple strings to define a surface.

All in all, I had an enjoyable time (sans the dance, which I still can’t get my head around), and Dia Beacon will be checked as a cool place in my book.

I was really excited to travel to Beacon, mainly because it was upstate. The ride there wasn’t that long and it seemed we had barely traveled away from the city. However from the second I stepped out of the train, I could tell we were no longer in New York City. The atmosphere in Beacon is totally different and I found the soothing atmosphere comforting. It was so quite and you could hear nature itself. The scenery there was amazing from the abundance in trees to the deserted roads.

When we reached out destiny, I wasn’t quite sure what I would be expecting except for the Richard Serra sculptures and it was more then what I expected. Walking through each and every one of them gave me a different feeling. The first one I went to had two paths, one that started from a narrow to a broader path and the other one from a broader to a narrow path. Natasha and I tried the two different paths at the same time and met in the middle with completely different feelings. She felt kind of suffocated as the path got more and more narrow while I felt like I was just take a normal stroll. The one I really liked was the last one in the back of the room where you can’t really tell when the path is going to end. I kept walking and walking, but I couldn’t see any signs of being close to an exit. In the end when you find yourself finishing the path, there’s a sign of relief. I felt that being in the middle of the towering sculpture was a different feeling all together. It was as if I was in a forest and only surrounded by towering trees. It was just me and the sculpture and I really enjoyed the empty space. It was as if I found a quite place to think to myself.

I found myself not connecting to a lot of exhibits because the whole time I was trying to figure out the meaning behind every picture in the exhibit. I found all of them intriguing but not all of them made sense. I guess you really can’t always make sense out of art. One that stood out to me was the exhibit with all the paintings with just simple colors on them. There would be tons of them in a room but they would all just be different shades of color bordered by different shades of color. Some were of different sizes too but they mostly had the same structure. I thought to myself is there a meaning to all these different paintings of the same thing except in different colors? Another exhibit that stood out to me was the exhibit with all the crushed cars and other things. I thought that maybe there should have been something to tell us what each crushed item was in front of the actual crushed item but maybe it was also meant to let us try and figure out ourselves what that crushed item was before it got crushed.

One exhibit that really stood out to me was the exhibit in the basement where it was completely dark with the televisions. I found it so eerie and interesting at the same time. All they did was place televisions in the dark yet it brought out so much inner feeling in me. They also had empty chairs in front of the televisions. One might think that it was for people to sit on and let people look at the television but I thought it was meant to bring out the eerie feeling to make it seem as if someone was already sitting there watching T.V. I felt like I was in a horror movie and the last one alive and about to be killed. I was with Natasha and we were waiting for the elevator to go upstairs and it seemed like it was straight out of a movie where something would happen to us as we waited.

For the dance itself I was quite taken a back when the first lady screamed and threw a tantrum. It was really sudden yet also really interesting. It was also interesting watching her walk while cringing during the 2nd part. The way she could control her body to make it look so painful  or wrong to the eyes was amazing. There really wasn’t much of a connecting between the different performances though. I didn’t quite understand the one where each individual came up and started doing something with no music on. It was hard to follow and understand what they were trying to convey. At the end though when they did the dance with the pillows, I thought it was really cute and lively compared to the rest of the performance. It also brought life back with the music after the long period of time without the music.

Ultimately I found Dia Beacon interesting with the different exhibits it contained and the unique dance performances. The location is beautiful and the building itself was beautiful. I loved looking up at the ceiling throughout my exploration of Dia Beacon because the ceiling had such a unique layout and the light really shines into the building and gives it a unique flair.

The view heading North was actually one of the most striking works of art I saw today.

That being said, the following are some other notable experiences.

Sol LeWitt’s Drawing Series was amazing because of the dramatic irony. In Wall Drawing #136, the viewer thinks the scribbles (arcs, straight, not straight, and broken lines) on the wall are haphazard. Which is an interesting assumption int he first place, considering that even those who don’t appreciate modern art and its ambiguous lines and shapes cannot fail to recognize that the artist very carefully orchestrated a piece. It is not just a random assortment of lines, or if it appears so to the viewer that is only because the artist wanted it to appear so. LeWitt elevates this reality by showing the viewer exactly how precise his randomness is. The writing is (literally) on the wall. Each “random” line is numbered and each sequence planned. No one sequence is repeated.

Wall Drawing #248, too, looks random. Elementary shapes drawn on a white wall. However, LeWitt also writes exactly where each shape is placed. His “not-straight” line is not randomly but rather exactly placed. He writes so finely, one could almost miss it altogether.

Another favorite exhibit of mine was Franz Erhard Walther’s Work as Action. On first inspection, the room is strangely silly. Pieces of canvas line the walls on a raised part of the floor. They are sitting, neatly folded. It’s not art. It’s not pretty. It’s not striking. Then one reads figures out this is art waiting to be made (In my case it was Maryam who figured it out) The canvas pieces are meant to be turned into art. In doing so, the viewer becomes the creator…or the art itself. When we were re-enacting the positions and formations photographed by Walther, the other visitors to the gallery were watching us with curiosity. We were the exhibit, as novel as the item with which we were “playing”. It was a pretty powerful moment. And it was fun.

Another interesting exhibit was was the strings. It’s like the emperor’s new clothes. There’s nothing there…or is there? The outline is the artwork. Or maybe the art is the outline.

My other favorite was the twisted metal sculptures. They were made of solid metal pieces crushed as one would a piece of unwanted paper. They sit on the floor as if tossed there. The in-congruence here exists in the sturdy nature of metal and the form into which it has been molded. It is treated as if it was a flimsy notepaper.

And on to Yvonne Rainer‘s dance ….um….. (I’m not sure what to call it)

[INSERT NAME HERE]

Crazy as it may sound, the most amusing part of the performance was the third “act” in which the initial performer, Patricia Hoffbauer, throws a temper tantrum replete with strangled screams and a wrestling match with a coat-covered lump of gauzy material. Everyone has a moment when s/he wants to scream like a banshee and throw a real two-year old temper tantrum. I don’t know if this was the response Rainer hoped to elicit, but I found it hysterical. Startling, granted, but then, I don’t think anyone is ever prepared for a temper tantrum.

I also found Hoffbauer’s overall performance to be very emotional and expressive. When she drags herself across the “stage” in a way that suggests she is being pulled by strings or is otherwise made of rubber, she is depicting lethargy in an explicitly tangible way. She is enacting typical ballet “moves”, butchering the exaggeratedly precise and subtly energetic nature of ballet dancing in the process.

To be honest, the silent, slow motion “dancing” (or, more accurately, movement) was interesting but far too long.

To backtrack, the stage itself was fascinating because it wasn’t actually a stage. The performance was on level ground. In fact, the only elevated object was the stands on which the viewers sat. In a funny way, that makes the viewers the viewed. They are raised on a stage, not the dancers. I cannot guess what Yvonne Rainer meant by this, nor do I think I am qualified to understand her piece in its entirety.

At IPC, my favourite photo was the real old school one of the house in black and white. Something about the wooden panels, use of shade and contrast along with the general humbleness of the abode gave it not only a an eerie ambience, but also a sense of history. For that I decided to write a little something.

“That creaking door, it leads to the bastard’s basement. That’s where they keep the children I hear.” Seán claimed, but I whispered back, “Ludcrisity!” He responded, “No, little injun Conall, he said so.”

We laughed, uncontrollable. Kept walking down the city land. The old youngster Paddy sat on the corner of the chemist’s house, panting, unrestrained.

“Don’t run in the mornin’ mate, it’ll kill ya.”

I knew it would but that didn’t stop me, or Paddy.  I told him, “Good on you, have a fair journey.” He said fine but still followed.

“I oughta have one.”

He did. We passed through the lane, swiftly dodging the drunken fathers on Amsterdam Avenue. Their children left in the bars as collateral for unpaid tabs. It was a sad affair surely. Seán came along too, step-by-step, right behind us, beyond us as well but only he knew that.

He whispered to ‘imself, thinking no one could hear him but hoping someone did, “Oi avent tha sloightest idea wher’ hes goin’. I ‘ont know.”

Paddy headed to a house in the middle of the lane, no different than the one to its right, no different than the one to its left, undistinguished among the rusted ruins of skyscrapers reminiscent of the overthrown empire. It was just dark, but he was cowardly; he was worried, frightened. Paddy was an ol’ pal. He had tripped up with us a fair lot. We almost got the dreaded sores together, yet another odd experience.

“Goodday o’ sunshine, dark-

day reins over night, sometimes.” I sing, a popular song of the city, sombre thing it is.

Paddy, the pal, and he was here, insufferable as he be, was. A nice, tall, square man, he was before door. An annoying fool. Dead to me, dead to all he was then. That house there had a nice old man with a 12 gauge shot gun and a jumpy finger.

It was to be expected though; that genius Paddy, it wouldn’t av happened any other way and I know how god abhors the immortal. Somewhat a hypocrite, that god fellow eh? Yarbles. Paddy would say if you asked him. He was one of them religious types, sorta. Thou shant have other gods, other than meself, god would go round sayin’. What a scribbish god. Paddy that fool.

The house was mighty cold, hellishly so, Satan ‘imself probably batin’ his wings in the basement, that masochistic fool. An irrevocable fetter ice is to one’s heart, but more importantly, one’s feet. It was a self-imprisoning classism, impossible to exit but all too easy to get caught in, poor Paddy.

It was a beautifully cold house though. Sparkling too, definitely a feast for those that such is of interest no doubt, but warily one must chew as it is one you are bound to choke on. It had these golden streamers on the walls, all mixed up with each other. There was a stairway to the left that led to an open door, this stair’s streamers were black, didn’t match the walls, hurt my eyes. We went up ‘em, crouched a bit, silent as could be. Paddy ain’t the fastest, that nervous prick, but once in he off’d the top lights, maybe he warn’t as scared, we needn’t be blinded but so we were, We went the first left and were left in the right, though left to stare at the blackening white wall, decaying from the inside out with a sort of vomit orange foam that poked out of a few holes. There green couch with the white man in it, black wears, black gun, silver bullets, red blood, pink n’ purple wall, yellow faces, back door.

We ran.

We ran.

We Ran.

Bright light, dark eyes, even darker, tainted souls; we were corrupted if we were innocent.

Poor Paddy, paddled in his own blue blood, benevolent.

When going into the ICP, I immediately knew which exhibition I wanted to visit the most: “Bazaar: A Decade of Style.” I am not a fashion-junkie but there has always been something about fashion photography that has intrigued me. Fashion photography, for me, is inescapable. As soon as you see it, it takes hold of your senses and you stand there entranced. Fashion photography, unlike other types of photography, is meant not only to elicit an emotional reaction out of you but also to spur you to use your credit card and buy whatever shoe, necklace, coat, dress, or accessory is being advertised. For me personally, however, I feel like photos like those exhibited in Harper’s Bazaar are also meant to show a deeper meaning than just to get consumers to buy the products. One of the prime examples I saw of this in the exhibition was the photograph of two women, walking side by side on a road.

The photo itself is quite simple. The basic focus is of two women, clad in attention-grabbing clothes, walking down a deserted road in what appears to be a desert. Both women are dressed in bold, bright colors—there is no mistaking them. Their clothes are very structural and features very geometric lines.   Looking at the road, there are two arrows pointing to the required direction of travel (in the photo, the arrows are pointing upwards). The women, however, are walking in the opposite direction. The photo features bright colors of orange, pink, blue and yellow. Contrasting with this is the deep black of the road. The focal point is the two women, in particular their clothes (this is a fashion photograph, after all). Both women are wearing sunglasses, making their eyes impossible for the viewer to see. Both are also outfitted in extreme high heels.

The reason this photograph was so attention-grabbing among the rest was the underlying message I extracted from it. The women are flouting the social conventions by walking on the street and not caring about any cars that may come their way. They are openly ignoring the direction rule by walking in the opposite direction. They may be construed as ignorant of the consequences (like a car approaching), but I think it makes them fearless. The clothes they are wearing are definitely not the norm but why should they care? This photo shows me female empowerment. Looking at these women make me want to be like them—just as innovative,  devil-may-care, and fabulous.

These pictures were taken on October 11 so I guess this fits snapshot day.

As for New York, I do not think that they came out that well but I tried to show the general incongruity of the city. Here in the foreground is the Neogothic Trinity Church and on the background are skyscrapers. A century ago the church towered over the horizon and was a landmark. Now it stands in the shadows. New York really does not have tradition in my opinion, except that everything goes. I feel that this is quite unfortunate. It is like building a skyscraper over the Taj Mahal.

I really wasn’t sure what kind of artwork I would be expecting when I first walked into ICP. I chose Harpers Bazaar because I thought it would be something different. It didn’t disappoint me and I was blown away by the uniqueness within each picture. I love how when I first walked in you can automatically tell which area is for which gallery of art. As I walked through the Signs gallery I could sense the more melancholy atmosphere but once I walked into Harpers Bazaar the energy dramatically increased. It was a small space full with color and expression.

The one that caught my eye the most was Jean – Paul Goude’s photo of Marc Jacobs and Naomi Campbell. It was a unique picture because there was so much going on in that one photo. I found that the other photos in the room mostly centered around one thing but for this photo my eyes didn’t know where to start looking at first. It’s a photo full of life that brings out the character of the subject. Excluding the subjects we can see clothes and shoes scattered everywhere as if they we’re busy preparing for something and didn’t bother to clean up. I found it amusing to look at Marc Jacob in a tutu. There he was a man with biceps bigger then the regular man in a small tutu. Not only was he a muscular man but he also had a tattoo on his arm. All in all though we find it simply amusing to look at this man dressed in a tutu he doesn’t seem to belong in fit in this picture. Now we have the poised Naomi Campbell who’s not wearing anything except what is mostly a thong. I found that it was so natural for her to be naked and to be doing what she was doing. She was wearing ballet shoes and all I could think about was her posture, not her nudity.  The old black piece of wood doesn’t take away any of the beauty of this picture and just makes it even more beautiful. Naomi Campbell is practically shining in this picture and it’s as if Marc Jacob is lending her a hand in this beauty as we see how their postures are connected by the pulling of the rope between them. Marc Jacob pulling on the rope is what brings Naomi Campbell’s posture but in the picture everything looks so natural. The photo brings out different emotions between the two different subjects. It’s also a photo which lets us make a story with in our own mind. When you look at the picture you wonder to yourself, what exactly are they doing in this picture? It’s a photo with a very relaxed atmosphere but also with a lot of depth behind it.

I really enjoyed going to ICP and it was a lot of fun to look at the different photos within the different sections. There were so many other extraordinary photos with Harpers Bazaar. I also enjoyed walking through the 9/11 gallery. The way they curated the exhibit created a solemn atmosphere. I found myself looking back and trying to remember what happened. Those little captions next to each photo had so much meaning even though it was just one sentence. The area with the film of photos blew me away as I stood in the middle of it with screens of 9/11 pictures surrounding me.