Category — Visual Art

The International Center for Photography, a mecca of photographic documentation located a few blocks from Times Square, was the first cultural experience of our Macaulay evening. When you enter this unassuming building, you’re immediately overwhelmed by the photographs. Covering every wall, there was a sensory incapacitation of images ranging from innocent images of children standing in deserted fields, to dead bodies laying in the streets. It was unbelievably difficult to look at some, while others were rather simple, and other still lighthearted. There was an interesting video exhibit as well, which appeared to have been significantly less frequented. A video made up up animated pencil sketches showed the death, danger, and hope of the Apartheid, and detailed periods of history in which these moments were especially relevant.

The most moving photograph for me was one by a member of the Bang Bang Club, Ken Oosterbroek. This was a group of four friends, photographers, and journalists who were on the front lines during the apartheid. Ken and Kevin have both since passed away; Kevin committed suicide due to the mental toll of one of his photos, and Ken was shot during the war, believed to be by peacekeepers. This image is of what looks like a large mob of people marching towards something, and children holding hands, running in front of them. The image is moving and powerful; with the juxtaposition of those running peacefully away from the angry mob, we see a true contrast between apartheid violence and apartheid peaceful inhabitants. A very moving exhibit, photo, and visit.

Also this evening we went to see a play at La MaMa experimental theatre, down in the east village. This play was interesting for a number of reasons. Firstly, the characters all played other characters. They interchanged between a lawyer in a suit and a street inhabitant wearing dirty clothes, a judge and a victim. This performance was mainly about the legal proceedings involving citizenship, as well as a really moving discussion of sexual assault. The talk back with the author at the end was enlightening, and I’m glad we had the opportunity to attend. The sets were beautifully crafted, and the ingeniousness of the symbols, including the 2-person-operated bird, took it to a new level.

Great evening altogether.

Hello, all!

I thoroughly enjoyed our trip to the ICP museum. I have taken many history classes and as a pianist, I have been exposed to many art classes as well in the last few years. However, I have never had a more fulfilling experience in either subject than I did at the ICP museum. I thought it did a wonderful job at creating a story out of the photographs that were there. History can often be presented in very dry ways, I have come to learn over the years. However, the way the museum was structured was very interesting. There were lines of photographs hung on the wall, and we followed the photographs in a very specific way to create a story. I found this very interesting; I have visited several museums in my life, but this was the first time I was told upon entering that there is a specific way to go in order to attain a full understanding of the content in the building. I was told to follow a specific path and pay careful attention to each photograph on that path, in that order. I can honestly say this made my job as an observer both easier and harder at the same time: it became easier because there was no ambiguity. I usually feel very lost at museums, unsure of where to go and what to look at. I would usually just walk around to random works of art, stare for several seconds, and move on without another thought. However, my job was made much harder because now there was more pressure to pay attention to the story that was being told. I had to take good care to observe and analyze all the details presented in each photograph, on the first floor and downstairs in the basement. There was not a single photograph that seemed out of place. Everything there tied in with everything around it and the experience gave me a very real idea of the time periods represented, from the 1960s all the way up until the present.

The photographs at the museum were unlike anything I have seen before. Through techniques such as perspective and lighting, I could feel myself being put into the pictures themselves. They conveyed a wide range of emotions from picture to picture that helped me understand the time period and the discriminatory practices that were around for many years.

The photograph I chose to focus on was called “Sleeping quarters at miners’ hostel” by Leon Levsen, taken in 1946. Here is a brief description of the painting.

There is a small room that looks sort of like a jail cell or dungeon. Light is entering the room from windows that are high above on one of the walls. There are two lines of beds. In each, there is a row of bunk beds. Six men are visible in the picture. Five are sitting and one is standing up. Two of them are seated at a table located at the center of the room. There is a pail on the table, so perhaps they have just finished eating a meal. The man on the left appears to be staring off into the distance towards his right. The man on the right is knitting a white article of clothing. There are two men sitting opposite each other on opposite bottom bunks near the photographer on either side. They are both merely grasping one hand in the other. There is one mean standing at the back of the room, underneath the windows. He is wearing a beret and is staring straight ahead. The last man is in the bottom bunk on the back left corner of the room. He seems to be examining a bottle. He is the only man in the picture who is barefoot. The other men have on black shoes. The man who is knitting appears to be wearing deteriorating work boots. He also has on a beret. The man next to him is wearing untied high boots. The man on the bunk near the photographer on the left is wearing deteriorating dress shoes. All of the men appear to be wearing a towel or bedsheet-like article of clothing, except for the man wearing dress shoes. The room does not appear to be very clean, The floor has many stains of different colors and sizes. The sheets on each beds are thrown about without organization. All of the men have very stern expressions, though the man examining the bottle seems to be the least stoic. He seems extremely interested in the bottle. There are no decorations in the room. It appears to be all gray and white, at least what can be made out of it in the black and white photograph. The tiles on the walls are cemented and look like bricks.

This photograph moved me because it has a very ominous feeling to it. All of the details add some sense of darkness to it, from the stern expression on each man’s face to the disorganized room to the bed-sheet like clothing to the bottle, which may indicate that some of these men like to drown their sorrow through drinking.

All in all, I had a very enjoyable time at this exhibit and look forward to visiting it again sometime in the near future.

Hi everyone,

This weekend, I went to Tatzu Nishi’s art exhibit at Columbus Circle and it was an amazing experience. According to nyartbeat.com, Nishi decided to do his first “public project” in the United States on a historic statue of Christopher Columbus that was created in 1892. I was really astonished to see how Nishi reinvented our perception of Columbus by situating this 13-foot statue of Columbus right in the middle of a modern, NYC-inspired living room. The room is full of nice furniture and when I walked into it, it was a bit breath-taking at first because  I wasn’t quite expecting to see a colossal statue in the middle of a fictional room. Nevertheless, it was an interesting art exhibit because Nishi made me rethink my perception of Columbus as a man of the past, with no connections to the present or to the future. The exhibit humanized him for me and made me think about the things I had read about him in Michael Troulliot’s book, “Silencing the Past: Power and Production in History.” Although I lost my brochure, I do remember reading that the original statue was made in Italy to commemorate the 400th anniversary of Columbus’ discovery of the New World. I always found that term “discovery” really biased because it implies that the Western perspective on history is the only view that is valid. I’m sure that the indigenous peoples would not celebrate Columbus’ “discovery” of the Americas…

As Trouillot suggests, I would also agree that it was not Columbus’ discovery that changed the course of history as we know it, but it was his “accidental encounter” that did. Nishi helped me reflect on this idea a bit more and I am grateful for that.

Sofia

On October 4, we went to an exhibit about apartheid in South Africa.

The photo that caught my attention was Pauline Moloise, two women and Winnie Madikizela Mandela mourn at the memorial service for Benjamin Moloise , who was hanged earlier that morning, Khotoso house, Johannesburg, 1985 by Gille de Vlieg.

6 men and 4 women showed up to Benjamin Moloise’s service. The men are all in collared shirts, appropriately formal, while the women’s dress varies greatly, from the old lady in the blanket to the woman in a formal blouse and cardigan.

The younger men have their fists in the air and look defiant, while the older men seem more defeated and tired. It seems that Moloise died a political death, because other pictures had the raised fist symbol as well, and the young men are still fired up about the cause. It reminded me of the book “Loose Change,” when 2 of the characters get older and disillusioned with the revolution.

Another element of the photo that interested me was the old woman being in a blanket while the other people are in Western clothes. Is the younger generation more Westernized, or am I over-thinking it and she’s just like those little old ladies on Ocean Parkway who are always in at least 3 layers even in July?

Moloise was an important figure. According to my research, Moloise was a poet who was killed for conspiring to kill a police officer in the effort to protest apartheid. One of Moloise’s poems became a common chant at protests. The US even urged the South African government to “take another look” at their plan to execute Moloise. The execution only served to escalate resistance to apartheid.

That is the story behind this photograph.

“The Tempest” is the only opera I’ve ever been to in my life.

Thanks to a friend of mine, I had read “Maskerade” by Terry Pratchett, so I was prepared.

According to this book, a random person viewing an opera won’t know what’s going on at all without the little booklets that they pass out explaining it, so I looked up the plot online beforehand. The book was right- I would’ve never been able to follow the show without it.  I like my entertainment to be fun, and fun can only be had if at least half of your brain isn’t saying “OK…what’s going on….I don’t understand.” So I can read a book and not understand why a character did something because I know it will be explained later in the plot. Movies take this reliability to an extreme, recycling the same plots over and over again- you know what’s going to happen in a movie just by the title and poster. The opera seems to be the most brain-bruising form of entertainment by far. I wasn’t used to this, and I don’t think I like it.

“Maskerade” also pointed out that the singers in the opera have to worry about their appearance, and I noticed that everyone in “The Tempest” took good care of themselves, but maybe that’s just in acrobatic operas like this? I wouldn’t know. Either way, the Tempest involved a lot of  gymnastic skills, and I wasn’t expecting that- I guess I always pictured some fat lady singing high enough to break glass when i pictured “opera.”

The voices involved sounded good to my unsophisticated ears. The Ariel singer’s voice was annoyingly high- 2 people complained that they got headaches from her.

I liked the scenery, especially the sea and the forest. The idea of waving a sheet to portray the ocean worked out well, and the trees moved farther apart as singers walked towards them, creating and illusion of depth.

The costumes were intense. They were made so that even the people in the top row could see all the details.

I don’t know. Opera just isn’t my thing.

At ICP I chose a photograph by Greg Marinovich. The caption read ANC supporters attack Lindsaye Tshabulala, a suspected Inkataha supporter, at Inhlazane Station, September 1990.

Two men can be seen in the photograph. One man is on the floor, lying on his back with his arms and legs spread out.He is wearing a blue jacket and his head is tilted to the side. A little further in the photograph, almost above the man on the floor, but more to the side, stands a second man. He is standing firmly with his legs spread apart. In his raised left hand he holds a knife with its blade pointing downward. His right arm is held out at his side. He is wearing a dark, sort-sleeved shirt and reddish-orange pants. His face is obscured by his hand, the knife he is holding in that hand, and the shadow that is cast by them.The scene transpires beside a street, on what looks to be a sidewalk. There are no other people in the frame of the photograph besides these two individuals. There is a red car in the background, but it appears driverless.

After our visit to ICP and a break for dinner, we headed to La MaMa theatre to see Luz. From the beginning, I was interested to see how the play would develop in a small theatre and with a small cast. To say the least, I was very pleased. The small size of the theatre made the performance very intimate and it was interesting to see actors playing different, and sometimes very opposing, roles. The acting was solid, in some places better that others, and the plot, or rather plots, despite being a bit confusing in how they connected was pretty captivating. The playwright also dealt with somewhat touchy, yet prevalent topics, giving the play a certain gravitas. I also liked how the story was told with the use of flashbacks and dream sequences, especially the scene where Alexandra an Luz are speaking to each other in different languages, Alexandra in English and Luz in Spanish. Also, I thought the little conversation/question answer session with the playwright that took place after the show was pretty cool. I felt that it helped to hear the playwright’s views on certain things, and I liked how at certain points there were people from all over the theatre having some back and forths, both with the playwright and each other.

And I was also quite partial to the roasted swan.

Battle between AWB and police at FW meeting, Ventersdorp

The photo I picked was titled “Battle between AWB and police at FW meeting, Ventersdorp” by Graene Williams taken in South Africa. The picture was divided in two by the formation of two groups of people, the AWB and the police. All the people in the photograph are caucasian males.  You can see from the photograph the distinction of the police wearing the traditional blue coats with blue shirts. Also, you can see the sergeant rank of one of the officer’s arms. You can see from the background that this FW meeting has taken place at night. Attached at the hips of the police officers there are gas masks while they’re holding guns in their hands. We can infer this means that they’re prepared to put down a riot using chemicals and even guns to subdue the ruckus.

The other half of the picture is of the AWB, an African political group. You can distinctly see a man screaming at the police. What makes him so distinctive is the red glove he’s wearing. It sticks out against the blue of the police officers and the darkness of the night sky. It seems to be pointing to the police as if to accuse them of their wrongdoings of apartheid. There’s also a club in between his legs which may mean he’s preparing the riot against the police. There are two other men standing behind the man with the red glove.

Most of the police have their eyes locked on the man with the red glove, while other officers are looking towards the crowd. The AWB have their eyes focused upon various police officers.

This picture shows the extreme split between the people of Africa during the time of apartheid. It shows that people are willing to result to violence to get what they believe is the “proper” way of life. The pictures captures the moment perfectly because we can literally see the immense tension rising between the two factions.

I’ve been living in Queens since I was 3 years old. Since my parents worked a lot I didn’t have anyone to take me to places I wanted to go, so I had to find a way around myself. Since I couldn’t drive a car as a kid, I mainly took public transportation such as buses and trains to get where I wanted to go.

Since I mainly went to places around Queens, each city was significantly different. Flushing was where all the Asian stores were located, Bellerose was where you found countless apartment complexes and Astoria was where all the adults went to work. However there was one unifying piece of art located in each of these cities that made them cities of New York, graffiti.

Graffiti was everywhere I went. On nearly every main road or convenience store you would see graffiti. Mainly it consisted of local gang tags but every once in a while you come across magnificent pieces of art in the form of graffiti.  Three-dimensional pieces of art would spring to life on the surface of a brick wall that would seem to grab at you if you came too close.

Graffiti is a free form art. There are no rules, no procedures to follow. Just an artist, a few spray cans and a brick wall. The possibilities of graffiti were endless.  It’s amazing to see an artist’s image in their head come to life on regular pavement you would walk on everyday without noticing it.

I believe graffiti represents Queens because of the fact that it can make something so ordinary, magnificent. You’re literally walking one day not noticing anything special about the pavement your stepping on. Then the very next day you’re gazing in awe at the beauty of a graffiti artist.

Overall I give this play 4 out of 5 stars.

The Actors. There was an uneven spread of talent between the actors. The head of the law firm underwent a lot of character development in a short time an had to show many sides of himself, which he did skillfully. Luz herself was very convincing, especially when she screamed at her interrogator, and she did an accurate Guatemalan accent (my neighbors had a Guatemalan nanny). Alexandra played the part of a normally reserved person who is emotionally involved very well, sounding exactly like my introverted friend when she tells over a sad story- not all people are dramatic in their sadness, which was one of the main criticisms I heard about her and that I consider unfair. The Haitian woman had a lot of difficult physical acting to do, like dragging her friend out from under he table, giving birth, and dying, which she made appear realistic. Jesus/Alexandra’s coworker played his parts in a very one-dimensional way. The environmental activist/Haitian policeman was more convincing as an activist than as policeman, because his yelling didn’t have force behind it, but as an activist he was sort of bland with no sense of the “why” that all characters in a story need. Alexandra’s first case was also sort of “blah” as an actor.

The Plot. I found it overstuffed, like the playwright was trying to address too many issues in too short a time. The connection between the 2 stories was weak at best. If you think of it as 2 separate plays, one about rape and one about soulless corporations destroying the world through pollution, then it starts to make more sense.

The Scenery. Very good. The background of paperwork worked beautifully for the Guatemala City dump and for the law firm, because both of these environments are very cluttered. The boxes added a perception of depth by seeming to extend backwards forever, and help to illustrate how much work goes into getting just one person into this country.The table centered the stage and worked well with every scene. The white rug under the table also helped with focusing on the sage and gave the lighting something to bounce off of. The lighting added to the mood of whatever was going on.

The Puppet. A dramatic and original idea. It also brought out the symbolism of birds, which is mentioned throughout the play, so it kind of tied things together a little bit.

I was struck by a number of photos in the apartheid exhibit at the International Center of Photography two weeks ago. I felt they really captured the essence of a rather tumultuous movement in history and were successful in depicting its progression (or in some cases, regression) over time. The photo I chose to describe was taken by Margaret Bourke-White in 1950, and its caption read “Carpenter Phillip Mbhele wearing “We Don’t Want Passes” tag.” It is of a single black man whose mouth is wide open, with a double chin framing its round shape. His eyebrows are furrowed, nostrils are flared, and eyes appear slightly squinted as he looks out toward the left of the frame. He has a thin mustache, but no hair on his head. There are gaps in his teeth of the top row, and about 4 teeth are visible in the bottom row. His shoulders are at an angle, with the right shoulder slightly behind the left one. He is wearing a button-down shirt with a vertically-knit sweater on top, as well as a light grey suit jacket with a dark grid-like pattern. On the left side of this jacket, there is a slightly bent piece of paper that almost appears to be stapled on; it reads, “We Don’t Want Passes.” The letters are all capitalized, with the word “passes” bigger and bolder than the other ones. The viewer is able to see all of the man’s upper-right arm, but the frame cuts off his left one at the shoulder. The bottom of the frame also ends about halfway down the man’s torso. The background appears to be a grey, cloudy sky and is only visible in the top half of the photo. Finally, one of the most important details of this photo is the angle at which it was taken. The viewer is looking up at the man, indicating that the photographer was way below his eye level, possibly even at ground level. This certainly gives the man a sense of authority and conviction as he passionately speaks out against the injustice of the time.

The second half of our evening was spent at the performance of Luz at LaMama Theater. Overall, I thought the play was well done; it conveyed a very serious and relevant message that the violation of human rights is rampant around the world. The victims, however, are essentially silenced and ashamed to tell their stories as the rest of us simply turn a blind eye, refusing to acknowledge and thereby act upon this injustice. I felt this was reflected in the set, there being a large and rather obvious mountain of disorganized paper in the center contrasted with the orderly file boxes on the sides. I also enjoyed the playwright’s juxtaposition of stories; I believe she was successful in weaving them together in such a way as to reflect off of, rather than take away from, one another. It would have been less interesting (at least in my opinion) had she chose to focus on any of the stories individually. Overall, it was a rather enjoyable Thursday evening in the city 🙂