Category — Visual Art

Hello,

The subject of the picture I will detail momentarily is not a chicken shack. Rather it is a women shot to death, which I thought is too gruesome to put as a title. The picture was captioned, “Nurse shot on her way to work by members of AWB who were randomly shooting at black people in Bophuthatswana,” and was taken by Fanie Jason.

The woman lay dead on her stomach with her face and toes facing away from the viewer, her head on the left side of the picture and her feet on the right. Her left hand was on the floor palm up and fingers bent halfway between flat and into a fist. Her right hand was not visible. She had dark-brown skin color. She wore a white knee-length skirt and a black shirt with sleeves that reached the elbow. A glimpse of a gold or silver necklace was visible on the back of her neck between her shirt and small afro. She wore black midsize heals. Now the gruesome part… A bit to the left of her head was an oval shaped puddle of blood around a foot wide with four streams stemming from it toward and out of the bottom left of the picture. One stream was larger than the rest since it was flowing along a split in the cement sidewalk. In the background were two shops. To the left, “Our Shop,” and to the right, “Chicken Shack,” as displayed on the upper few feet of each store. between them were two feet of dark emptiness with just a circular drainpipe on the bottom coming forward and stopping by the sidewalk with its opening facing us. Each had red bricks until around two feet up. Above the brickwork each had glass windows displaying of goods of each store. Our Shop had stacks of cookies on the first shelf and around two feet above on the second shelf were small clear bottles with red labels. Chicken Shack had only piles of sacks that each read 12.5 kg. The Chicken Shack glass had two bullet holes a few inches apart with spiderweb cracks surrounding them. On the floor to the left of the woman lay shards of glass: one larger triangle in the middle surrounded by smaller pieces. Faintly, a reflection of a car is visible through the glass window of Our Shop.

Crazy stuff…

Thanks Patrick for setting the trend of writing the review for “Luz” in the same post. Overall, the message of the play is understood. Problems of rape exist everywhere and victims are treated insensitively as shown by Luz screaming at the judge. The characters playing multiple parts confused me as it did others, I’m sure. Puppeteering could have been better. I would’ve suggested a darker stage with a white vulture but with the black vulture being the same color as puppeteers, they were too visible. The businessman character was entertaining as well and he gave over the message of the fact that large industries are ran by humans although some consider them to be monsters, like the man’s son.

Lookout Beach Plettenberg Bay 1986 by Gisele Wulfsohn

This photo was taken in a sandy area, most likely a beach, with water and tides in the background. There is a fat white lady probably in her mid 50s to the right of the picture. She has curly black hair and is wearing a small pearl necklace and a checked dress. The dress stops about a hand width above her knees. She has a grimace expression and she seems happy. Her arms are folded in her back. Her right leg is lifted up as if she was walking. She is bare foot.

Behind the white lady is a black lady. She is most likely a domestic worker. She looks sad and is wearing an all white maids outfit. She is holding jewelry, most likely for the white women in front, and tissue in her left hand. Her left hand is raised to her chest area. She has a white necklace and silver bracelets on both her arms. Her left heel is up as if she was walking. She has a plain white bandanna. She is probably in her mid 50s also. She is bare foot.

A black dog is next to the black lady. The dog has his/her tongue out. He/she seems thirsty. There are shadows tot he left of the people and the dog. It must be really sunny when this photo was taken. There are clouds on top of the photograph to the horizon.

Luz

I agree with Sauly that the message of rape and the victims affected and clearly shown in the play. Luz is a dramatic play especially the part when Luz screams at the lawyer. I jumped from my seat. There are a lot of boxes in the background with added to the serious tone of the play. It also creates a professional environment even if the boxes were placed in a chaotic fashion. I forgot that in the beginning of the play the announcers said that the subtitles would be above the stage, so when they were speaking Spanish I said to Maheen, “You know Spanish?” I liked the twist at the end, I did not expect the high class lawyer to be a victim of rape. Some parts of the play were confusing due to the same actors playing different characters. Also I could not figure out if it was a dream/flashback or real life.

Hello class,

This is a reminder that this Thursday I will be leading a discussion of photography using chapters 1&7 of Ways of Seeing as a guide.In preparation of this class, remember to do the following:

1. Please read these chapters and bring the book with you to class.
2. Bring in or post one photograph (either a professional artistic photo, an advertisement, or a photograph you have taken) to analyze.
3. We will also reflect on your experience at both the Vietnam Veterans Memorial and the 9/11 Memorial, so make sure to read and comment on your classmates posts to refresh your memory of this trip.
4. If you have not done so already, post your description of the photograph you choose to describe at ICP.
5. Review this site in order to help you take your Snapshot Day photo (we will go over this together in class as well): http://kalidraws.tumblr.com/post/32953413185/today-i-gave-my-students-a-quick-presentation-on

I am looking forward to seeing you soon!

Hey guys, so I tried to find the pictures that I was going to talk about right now to make it easier but i was only successful in finding one of them. So the first picture that I found and that struck my curiosity was a picture by Tim Jarvis titled, Anglican Priests at graveside of Craddock, Eastern Cape, 1985. This lengthy title does the liberty of giving some of the details of what I saw in the pictures. So, It was a close up of Anglican Priests, all of which had their fists raised up. Behind them was a crowd of people, most of them regular except for this one irregular white woman in the back. “What was this white woman doing?” I asked myself. What place did she have at this graveside, and was she there to mourn or was she there to show support. She didn’t seem to have a mournful face but she seemed rather joyful. It was weird. And i couldn’t exactly wrap my finger around it.

This next picture, I saw as I was leaving the picture of the Anglican Priests. It is by a photographer by the name of Gille de Vlieg and is titled, 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. Here I saw a row of ladies in the front mourning over this man with a row of men in the back also holding up the same fist that I saw in the first picture that i came across. I started to think about this symbol of the fist. What did it mean? What was it a symbol of? Why a fist raised up? Fists usually symbolize aggression, but how did that tie in? Questions, Questions, Questions.

Finally, the last picture that i saw was another Tim Jarvis picture entitled, UOF meeting, Claremont, Cape Town, 1985. It showed a white woman on a podium also holding up her fist like the men in the photo above. This just added even more to the curiosity behind the fists!

Last Thursay I had the pleasure of visiting the International Center of Photography with a friend and my Macaulay classmates (that’s all of you!). On the way to the ICP we met familiar faces from our childhood on 42nd Street (Sesame St and Toy Story represent). There was some interesting imagery at the CP, not all of it PG-rated. I noticed how the so-called ‘candid’ images were much more fascinating than those portraits of influential people that were abundant. I was drawn to the vintage magazines that lay beneath the glass. Most striking was that they lacked the superfluous text that infests most magazine covers today (refer to any edition of Seventeen). The cover usually had just a color portrait, with a reference to some sensational news on page XX. On the lower floor were more photos and also some illustrations. Particularly I am referring to those that were drawn upon pages of New York Times. I was all done and just about ready to leave, when – unbenownst to me – there was actually an assignment to be completed. Whoops! With the last few minutes, I tried to scrounge up the most interesting photo of the lot. It was going to be a challenge, but finally I found something that really caught my eye. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it online. Those of you who’ve seen it, great! Others, try to imagine it through my words.

It was titled ‘Sheep Farmer and Son,’ 1983, by Wendy Schwegmann. Basically it was a boy and his father in front of some white house. Details, details. The boy had a gun, a pistol sort of thing, and it was directed at someone or something (hopefully the latter!) outward and to the right of the picture. He was fat, and chubby, and short. So not the most athletic kid on the block. I’m thinking of Piggy here from Lord of the Flies (great book if you haven’t read it). He was also wearing pants. The dad was looking on outward and to the left of the picture (he’s facing the photographer but his body is directed to the left). He’s an ordinary man, except for the fact that he is wearing short shorts! What I mean is he is wearing those ‘boy scout’ shorts that the kids usually wear (remember that white boy with the watch that we discussed in class?) I thought it interesting that the boy had on pants while the fatherly figure was wearing the shorts of childhood. Something like a societal reversal, don’t you think? Something like turning social norms upside down, maybe? Like the end of apartheid, I would say.

After that enlightening visit, we endured the trek down to West 4th, where we caught a showing of Luz at La Mama. I did not really catch on to the one actor=multiple characters thing that was going on. It seemed kind of all over the place, which made it hard to follow. One aspect I thoroughly enjoyed, however, was that little bit with the Carmina Burana. It made me chuckle when they mentioned performing it at Carnegie Hall, an event I personally attended earlier this year where chorus members from my own school were performing. The incorporation of the Roasted Swan (which is a tenor solo and has its own movement) was a welcome addition. My favorite character was the ‘businessman,’ who had the same attitude as one of the guys who appear in Jersey Boys: smooth, fast-talking, and confident.

It was an OK way to spend an evening, I’d say, and I’ll close with these few photos I took during the trip.

Elmo’s excited. Sofia doesn’t look too pleased!

Is there some chemistry between them? Artur laughs and looks on.

Nice to see the Empire State up close. Great view at the top, from what I’m told!

A skyscraper with an interesting facade. I wonder what goes on there?

Saying goodbye to the Empire State Building. See you soon!

A current dweller of Monsey, NY (Rockland County), I couldn’t seem to think of any specific piece of art that defines the place. No specific architecture. No specific memorial. No specific form of transportation. Well, I needed to find something that defines where I live. So, while there is no specific piece of art that is manmade to define my community, “Mother Nature” has definitely left her mark. If paintings and photographs of nature are considered art, then surely G-d’s work itself is art, as well.

The contrast of the abundant nature and scenery of where I currently live to where I first grew up (Flatbush, Brooklyn) is best made by friends from the city that come over for a visit. Comments like “you live in middle of nowhere!” and “why are there hardly any sidewalks?!” cause me to appreciate the tranquility of the suburb in which I live even more. And, my (Monsey born) little sister’s remarks upon our visits to Brooklyn of “How did you live here? It’s so crowded and gloomy” cause me to remind her to to appreciate the nature that surrounds her every day.

On Thursday, September 27^th we visited two memorials that were located in Manhattan, the Vietnam Veteran memorial and the 9/11 memorial.

The Vietnam memorial was in secluded place. It seemed as if not many people have visited as they would a regular war memorial. I believe this is because of all the mixed feelings surrounding the Vietnam War.

Vietnam War Wall

Once you enter you can see a great big green wall made up of what seems to be dense glass. What’s interesting about the glass is that it seemed to be transparent in some parts, but denser in others.

However, what was certain was that the writing on the glass was from soldiers who were in the war. These writing were mainly from them to their family members. One of them caught my attention more than the others. It was from a soldier who wrote to his father at his office. He explained to him that he wasn’t going to make it and that he wanted his father to relay the message to his mother because the soldier himself couldn’t do it.

On one side of the memorial there was a fountain. If you stood behind it at a certain angle, it almost sounded as if you heard artillery coming from the water.bIt gave me a feeling of what these soldiers had to go through while they partook in the war. Seeing their words on the wall while hearing the similar sounds they heard gave me a feeling of utmost gratitude. It made me thankful for them, to fight for our country’s beliefs and morals.

The 9/11 memorial was much more crowded. I believe this is the case because 9/11 was a more recent tragedy that erupted a worldwide concern. The 9/11 memorial will be forever held as an vital and essential memorial to the people that suffered during the 9/11 attacks.

9/11 Memorial- South Pool

9/11 Memorial- North Pool

Like the Vietnam Veteran memorial, the 9/11 memorial also used water. There were two vast pools of where the towers once stood. Each in the shape of a square, with a inner square of water as well as you can see from the picture above.  The outer square of water seemed to be more chaotic and the inner square of water seemed to be more at peace. I believe this was designed to convey how it really felt the day of the attacks. Outside the towers, people panicked with fear. It was chaos everyone, especially in Manhattan. But on the inside, it was a grim sober place. People were dying and losing hope for survival. It’s almost as if the water conveyed the spirits of the people who perished in the towers that day.

9/11 Memorial- Roses at na

9/11 Memorial- Rose at Name

Something that distinguished the 9/11 memorial from the Vietnam Veteran memorial was that various people placed yellow roses at the names of their loved ones. I watched in amazement as the family and friends placed roses at the names of their loved ones in tears. It then occurred to me the event that transpired on this ground nearly 11 years ago truly rocked the foundation of the world.

Spending time at memorials allows people to reflect about themselves. It allows them to be thankful for the people that sacrificed their lives, to make our lives easier to live by. Memorials allow us to step into the lives of numerous soldiers/civilians for a moment to grasp what they went through. It finally gave me the chance to thank our fallen heroes for committing the greatest acts of bravery the world has ever seen.

For those that stayed at the memorial when it got dark, they got to see the waterfalls actually light up, including the names a little bit later. This is how it looked:
1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

Notice in #3 and #5 how with the light, the waterfall on all sides is now a reflection of the rest of the pool, giving each wall ‘depth’. The pool seems much larger now as a result of this mirror effect (thanks to Amanda for pointing it out!).

This is the view that I saw from my 9th floor balcony in the beautiful neighborhood of Bensonhurst.

Stunning, isn’t it?

I felt the sudden urge to go out and explore the unknown, though nightfall was rapidly approaching. There beyond the bridge, the rainbow beckoned me. I slipped into my Brooks and got out into the cool breeze fast as I could.

Though it wasn’t forecast to rain, the clouds hovered ominously above. A light drizzle moved south as I made my way down Shore Parkway. Before the first bend in the path, I considered the majestic Verrezano Bridge, a familiar landmark and a beacon to guide me.

As I got closer, the bridge grew bigger and bigger. The rain had ceased, yet my journey was just beginning. With an unobstructed view, I stood in awe.

Soon the lights upon the bridge were lit, and I was beside a true spectacle. Meanwhile the sky grew darker and darker as I was passing through the neighborhood of Dyker Heights.

It was now very dark as I approached the bridge, my ally. From beneath this behemoth of a bridge, I wondered whether to continue the journey or to end it prematurely. Naturally, I didn’t want to turn back. A new frontier lay within my reach. I looked on down the long, pitch black road. Above me was my last safe haven. Without a glimmer of doubt, I pushed on, but not before I bid the Verrazano adieu.

I was now in uncharted territory, uninhibited and alone. My confidence began to waver as I got farther and farther away from the bridge everlasting. The road seemed neverending, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to get back. But there was no turning back. I was commited to discover the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Yes, I could feel a sense of something far greater than myself. The road took a sharp bend to the north, and as I rounded the corner, a city of gold revealed itself. Yes, a miracle of lights, a city that never sleeps, I saw the skyscrapers of Manhattan.

I was not afraid as I came to the end of the road, the American Veterans Memorial Pier in Bay Ridge. On the one side I saw Lower Manhattan, and on the other side, the Verrezano Bridge. What a view!

http://youtu.be/D4a4YHQOC1A