Category — Visual Art

My roommate and I are always sharing neat videos with each other. A few evenings ago, he shared with me a video of a live performance where a “mind bending” choreographed routine was combine with computer graphics by a group named Bot and Dolly. Of course, I could interpret the show for you, but I’d be depriving you of a truly inspiring and jaw-dropping (for lack of a less generic phrase) experience. I can assure you that for some time after finishing the video, you’ll be asking yourself (and anyone who shared in viewing the show) how such a thing is possible. But as you are about to see, such an amazing display of talent, ingenuity, and sheer determination is more than possible… it’s been done.

Click here! Box

Or watch here (youtube):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IljuoA5QmmY

Wow, I know!

I admit that I am an amateur when it comes to museums. Growing up, I didn’t really have the opportunity to visit museums and so I had little interest in art. When I heard that we’d be visiting the Brooklyn Museum, I was not thrilled. When I heard we’d be speaking about the paintings, I instantly became nervous. I did not know what to expect.

Came Tuesday, September 3^rd. I walked into the museum extremely anxious. I was told to form a group and was given a recorder. I happened to stand in front of one painting in particular. Houses of Parliament, Sunlight Effect. 1903 by Claude Monet was the painting I found most intriguing. It depicted some sort of castle blurred by fog and smoke. I sat in front of this painting and just recorded my opinion for about 6 minutes. I then moved on to other paintings and just stared and thought. I found that each piece of art differed from the other and each conveyed a hidden meaning. I managed to only observe the paintings on the third floor in the time given. I wish I had more time.

Spending my night at the museum truly was an amazing experience. I had the opportunity to look at beautiful paintings and give much thought about the details in each piece of art. I also had the opportunity to discuss these paintings with other individuals and was inspired by what they had to say. I found this trip to be an enriching experience and one that I’ve never experienced before. I look forward to the upcoming trips and hope they are as amazing as this one.

There is something about the moment you walk into a museum that is moving. Usually you enter

into some vast room, filled with bustling people and sneak peak art pieces. You feel a heaviness

in your stomach, realizing that theres something going on here thats bigger than yourself. When

I enter a museum, I feel as if I’m entering a new acquaintances home. You’re excited and antsy,

barrages of information leaving you anxious, as well as modest.

The Brooklyn Museum was no different. The moment I walked into that enormous hall on the fourth

floor I became excited. I thought the text message T.V gimmick was down right silly. How did they

not think kids were going to text the most outrageous and immature things to put on the screen?

But anyways, I felt as if I had just begun an adventure. I believe that museums are the greatest when

you walk around alone. I couldn’t wait to finish the recorded assignments  so I could go off on

my own. No one looks at a painting the same way, so I see no use in needing a companion. Although

exchanging opinions can be enlightening, I wanted to really focus on the artwork individually, and

try my best to interpret what the image meant to me.

Its pretty funny what ended up catching my eye. Out of the whole experience, I really enjoyed the

room that was set up to resemble a warehouse where they store all the pieces. I thought it was such

a cool way to display the art. In an manner that the general public does not usually have the

opportunity to see. I felt like I was in the famous warehouse at the end of Indiana Jones, filled with

history’s greatest secrets and treasures. Even though the majority of the pieces were house

utilities from the 20th century.

I think to say that I enjoyed my time at the Juilliard Jazz Quartet concert is an understatement! The venue itself was in and of itself spectacular, but the music made the evening all the better. The Jazz music genre is one I still know very little about, but I noticed that as the musicians worked their magic, understanding the moods and the sentiments being conveyed through the notes was a more relaxing and joyful exercise than one might assume.

Frank Kimbrough’s composition entitled “Kudzu” captured my attention. While listening, I did a bit of double tasking; I kept my body jiving to the nifty beat, but I kept my mind searching for how exactly to describe the sounds. I then remembered the Austin Powers movies and thought of the catch phrase “Groovy, baby!” I was so moved by the song, but my eyes did not water, nor did my lips quiver. It was as though the song had transported me to a time and place where life was just “groovy” and the urge to bogey and do the shuffle was insatiable. I loved this!

All the other songs were amazing in their own ways, and I will admit that I was both thrilled and overwhelmed by the ballad titled “Waltz for Gwen”; it moved me in ways I never though jazz could.

The song “Ah, Rio” also struck me. As we can all tell, the weather outside it cooling down, and so such a warm and inviting song was pleasing to me; the reassurance that music that – in addition to a snuggly sweater – music can warm the soul is a great comfort.

I had an amazing time on Tuesday evening. A night with good music and even better friends is something never to pass up. So this winter, as I hunker down and stay warm, I’ll know that my jazz playlists are there to stay.

Jackson Pollock: Autumn Rhythm, 1950

Visiting museums nearly always yields a contemplative and fascinating experience, and it is all the more fantastic that we are able to witness with our own eyes the great works comprising intellectual thought and cultural expression for our higher education. My group chose to spend the duration of the trip on the fifth floor exploring the Shattered Identities exhibit. It was a blast seeing the composition of competing artistic styles and their inherent juxtaposition with one another in certain cases. Take, for example, the landscape painting of the famous artist in the 19th century who is known for capturing incredible depictions of nature’s awe-inspiring majesty, placed next to a work which appears to be in the same style of a Romantic depiction of nature, only with the actual painting hidden mostly from view due to the appearance of the artist having set fire to the whole work.

Mention of this reminds me of an observation I made during a previous visit to MoMA: How does the nature and place of the exhibition alter your reception of the artwork? When you see two pieces of art side-by-side, one work is bound to alter your perception and consideration of the other work, which is perhaps an idea that was intended by whoever is responsible for the layout of the exhibition (the same can be said of the building’s internal architecture and even simple design decisions like color of the walls). I also noticed something else–the lack of music in the gallery. This is perhaps due to the very aforementioned effect, of one piece of art fundamentally altering your perception of another piece. Perhaps music would have too transcendental and powerful of an effect, imposing its own creative influences and artistic perspective on your own and on the expression of the respective art pieces. To illustrate, I can imagine that looking at a Jackson Pollock piece while listening to Beethoven in conjunction could instill the idea of a ‘grand design in the beautiful and exquisite chaos of Pollock’s imagination,’ versus looking at the same piece while listening to some derivative of Screamo-death-hardcore-heavy metal could perhaps invoke a sense of ‘chaotic savagery in what ultimately amounts to Pollack’s madness.’

These concepts have led to an even bigger question–how was a particular piece of art intended to be displayed? Do museums conform to the artist’s intentions or do they accomplish something more–a commentary of, or rather service to, society? Do we, or are we even able to, understand the artist’s original intentions? Consider a museum where each artistic instillation, each painting, each work is housed in its own blank room with neutral aesthetics. Could it be said that this is the most “pure” way to experience the art?