Category — Aesthetic Interactions

When I went on a trip to Pennsylvania with my friends for the weekend, I was amazed by the miniature Amish Farm they had there.  We toured the Pennsylvania Dutch Country and it was as if I was part of the scenery even though everything there was so small. I found all the little buildings and mechanical settings of the Amish Farm amazing. It was weird that I could see so much in such a small space.  Even though it was just pieces of wood and other materials put together, everything seemed so real, from the lights of the building to all the little attractions of the town. The most amazing part was when this bright city would actually turn into nighttime every few minutes to show the life of the city at night. I found the structures in this miniature Amish Farm well designed and it really gave me a sense of how life was. It wasn’t super extravagant but was just simple so that we could get the most important parts of the country life.

Upon entering the “Bazaar: A Decade of Style” section of ICP, I realized that the section stayed true to its name. It was Bizarre. The Bazaar photographs seemed to have no congruity from one photograph to the next. We’d go from moments in swimsuits to moments in Hollywood, to moments of nudity to posed moments in studios. It was brilliant and strange, thus encompassing the true meaning of Bizarre.

I must admit that I was not too engrossed in a good majority of the photographs. I was desperately looking for one that truly caught my eye and made me wonder. And then, suddenly, I saw her. The “Leading Lady.” I could see what happened to her in the photograph. After a horrible night with a group of friends, Elle (The French word for ‘she’) walked away in tears. Her hands trembling, her heart shaking, her eyes tearing. She walked in shame with her head fixated on her feet, when, suddenly, there was a light reflecting on the tips of her clear, crystal heels. She stopped mid-walk on the corner of the street and looks up. Gasp. There it was: a luminous light shining down upon her. No one was on the street. The red stop light flickered, but really, who was paying attention? Nothing else mattered but Elle and the light. The sky was painted a midnight hue and the lamppost flickered candescently in the background giving the atmosphere more ambiance. And at that moment, everything made sense to Elle because nothing else had to. At that moment, she was living. Then she realized that the most important part to life was to live.

Basically, my “Leading Lady” dazzled me. She was photographed by Peter Lindbergh in September 2009 in a 1950s setting. The description was, “A diaphanous silk dress makes its way into the spotlight.” Her dress resembled more of a flappers in the photo, but it was so elegant that I want to call it a Chanel masterpiece. You cannot see her face, but you can feel that she embodies the beauty of a 1950s starlet. It’s absolutely beautiful.

She was looking at the light as if it were a star – as if all her wishes were being asked to it’s eminence.

The photograph embodies the amazement of Gazing, Wishing and Wondering. Being. This photograph proves the beauty of independence and serenity.

This is all in my perspective, of course.

Upon entering the room, I noticed the variety of images, in all colors and all sizes. One particularly stood out from far away because it was by far, the largest in the room. I walked around the exhibition in a counter-clockwise direction, approaching the largest image. But after I examined the image to the right of the largest one, I walked to the image on its left, completely skipping the large image, unintentionally. Unknowingly. And that was so strange. I noticed the photograph when I first entered the exhibition, but when I stood next to it, I completely forgot that it was there. A huge image like that!

As I walked around the exhibition a second time, to pick up details I had missed and to choose a piece to describe on this site, I went back to the largest image and stared at it. How could I have missed such a striking photo?

Karl Lagerfeld’s photo of Snejana Onopka (November 2007) is overwhelming and hypnotizing. The image is about 4-5 feet tall and 2-3 feet wide. And in the image are numerous tarnished steps that lead to a vast blank space at the top. The setting is what I would say as plain and ugly. Yet there’s something so mesmerizing and dynamic about the way it is captured. Perhaps it’s the size of the image, blown up to ginormous proportions. Or maybe its the model, standing at towards the bottom center, on the steps, peering right past me. I stand at eye level with her. Her pose so adamant, one arm bent on her hips and the other curved upward with her fingers delicately holding her hat. And her hat, oh the monstrosity. If anyone were to wear that humongous hat in person, I’d question their sanity. But in this image, it just seems natural. The curves of her body and dress immediately stand out compared to the repetitious straight lines of the steps behind her. The intensity of the black of the skirt of her dress. It captivates me, pops right out of the photograph as the other colors of the image are muted whites and dull grays. The subject is quite boring but the image is absolutely stunning.

The memorial just gave me a sense of something unfinished. The grass was just carpeted (or whatever the proper verb is), the trees just planted, the building still under construction.There was a general rushed sense to the project, seen in the lack of proper walkways and makeshift barricades.

Therefore there was a lot of noise from both traffic and the building teams that took away from the more subdued and quiet nature of a memorial. In about 10 years the place will be completely different, the construction will be finished (hopefully) and the trees will grow into mature solid oaks, which will shelter the place from unnecessary sound. I feel that the architect hoped that the loudest thing in the memorial would be the waterfalls. Though I would not call the two holes my cup of tea, I feel that the sound of falling water will be soothing, like that of a waterfall, when it is not mixed with honking and drilling.

There was also a very heavy police presence but I believe that in the future, all the cameras will be placed accordingly and most cops on the seen will be undercover. There will also be fewer visitors as the novelty of the monument will fade and therefore less need for cops.

The only really unfortunate thing about ground zero is the time it took to build the memorial/new complex or rather the time spent preparing to build. For about nine years nothing was done and the in one year we have almost finished skyscrapers. I have a sad feeling that there was either extraordinary incompetency or someone enriched himself.

Hey Guys!

The public art that I captured is the Verrazano Bridge. I made this choice because I remembered how majestic it looked as we were passing underneath it while on vacation this past January (I took the video on a cruise ship, while both leaving and entering back into New York, hence the daybreak (leaving), and the dawn (returning) videos).

There is, however, another reason for my choice. I looked at the bridge, and it didn’t just resemble a bridge to me. It looked more like a symbol, something that wasn’t just useful, but beautiful. It had more than just a functional use; it had a sentimental value as well.

To me, the Verrazano Bridge represents what New York represents. New York may be diverse, but they are all united, for better or for worse. This theme is corroborated by the 9/11 attacks. We got hurt badly, not only physically, but mentally. Because we are all united, we act as one individual, and it is that which makes the bridge so amazing. It represents the unity between the separate boroughs, which consist of slightly different cultures. But they all care for each other because they are connected; they are connected by the bridges that surround them.

What do you think about it?

Joey Kabariti

UPDATE: Sorry about the videos. I had uploaded them with the post, but it didn’t post them. They were the reason I took so long to post.

What would a jagged mountain of color have to do with New York? It’s sort of like asking, “what does art have to do with New York?” As a foreigner looking in, the wild, unbridled energy of New York is something that is very unique. Go to Paris, Florence, Vienna, Munich, San Juan, DC, and you will never find the sort of ambience that is in New York, and every New Yorker knows it. They know it, love it, or hate it. No matter what, it plays an integral part of their lives and its absence is often felt, even to the most subtle degree. Art, like NY, is an accessible source of innumerable amounts of innovative ideas, aesthetic intents; a figurative fountain that shots out techicolour cranial explosions of creativity. The raw energy  just does not stay still, it is in a constant vibrato, a constant vibration; like an ADHD kid on cocaine and Ritalin, it is agitated by its own inner energy that is just forcing its way out, pushing its way through the psych to the canvas, to the sax, to the lips.

Laying in soft slumber, a slobbering child of the subconscious, Art invades electronic pathways, finding its way of escape from the claustrophobic entrapments of the human mind.  It does not scream from free enclosure, but rather wraps itself around such prison and makes it its own. The possessed is now the possessor and the mind is left to Art’s discretion. The rudimentary tasks are now put to flow into grand rivers of subconscience awareness that form even grander waterfalls into the active conscience to further explore and become small streams that end in the ocean of reality. What one sees as art is not what art is but rather art’s diluted, emasculated form. For true art one must not look in the pages of a book, the composition of a portrait, or the melody of a song but must stare at the colours of words, the sounds of brush strokes; true art is synesthesia. Art hides though, it doesn’t want to be found, for being found would make it lose its meaning as silence would be lost due to sound. It is scared of company and jealous of competition. Art is true to itself and is not one to suffer for any less. It is the most demand of slave drivers, directing its hordes into creative supernovas. Still the world is yet ready for such exstatic explosions, limitation and restriction must be held; for the benefit of mankind, art is held bound by the chains of reason and expression.

Below is a series of three photos that I took during my time in Italy. Their sequence is supposed to mimic a man being pressured by both of life’s pleasures artesanal beer and an artesanal fruit tiramisu.

For me both, brewing and cooking has played a major role in my life that has yet to be further developed due to external forces, here in NY, school and law.

The artistry behind a well made meal and that behind that of a well made brew, for me, require the same skill as painting a Van Gogh, writing a Ulysses, filming a Rojo Amanecer.