The Art Story (Dot) Org
A new cool online resource center for everything Modern Art: http://www.theartstory.org
I happen to be one of the contributors) building my sixth (or is it seventh?) artist page now.
Cheers to all!
I happen to be one of the contributors) building my sixth (or is it seventh?) artist page now.
Cheers to all!
Geometric period amusements
this one's at the Met (of course). what we see is some sort of a "wheel-guy" playing with two horses (each having a bird underneath), the whole composition being coulissed by two prominent swastikas. what does it mean? I don't think we'll ever crack any iconographic mystery of such sort. You gotta love the silhouettes and the complete disregard for any sort of 'realism' (I'm obsessed with the issues of 'realism' these days). It should be noted that the representational details are quite prominent - our horses are actually exhibiting their manhood. It seems as if it were a deliberate caricature in fact - someone is utilizing, very consciously, a very peculiar pictorial language - a language that explicitly negates the necessity of a "life-like" portrayal. Antique pottery is so much fun.
Casting Negative Spaces: Rachel Whiteread
The project she did in Vienna is really quite remarkable - I hope I'll manage to explain its conceptual makeup lucidly enough: she casted the negative space of a library room, that is, not your usual perception of library shelves with the books' bindings and titles in front of you, but rather the view from the other side - it is the pages we are confronted with. Where is this work and what is it meant to commemorate? It is in the Judenplatz in Vienna, a square where the Jews were gathered under the Nazi rule before being shipped to the camps.
The people to whom this memorial is dedicated are thus portrayed as books - their stories now being permanently shelved within the historical discourse. I would also suggest that the concept of the 'library catalog' is employed here - just think of the numbers and overall "cataloging" that the Nazi prisoners were subjected to.
The books are also the first to be persecuted under the regime - it is the burning of books that usually precipitates the burning of the bodies.
The people to whom this memorial is dedicated are thus portrayed as books - their stories now being permanently shelved within the historical discourse. I would also suggest that the concept of the 'library catalog' is employed here - just think of the numbers and overall "cataloging" that the Nazi prisoners were subjected to.
The books are also the first to be persecuted under the regime - it is the burning of books that usually precipitates the burning of the bodies.
Hitler's watercolor sold for $40'000
c.1911 watercolor depicting Vienna's Votivkirche Cathedral by then-struggling-artist-soon-to-be-the-wo
the Gardner paintings mystery
A couple of days ago we saw "Stolen" - a documentary on the infamous Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum robbery in Boston. It happened a while ago - back in 1990 I think, so some of you may have no idea what this affair was (and still is) all about. To put it in a nutshell - we are talking about a Vermeer and three Rembrandts, as well as some Degas and a Manet stolen and yet to be recovered. Vermeer's "Concert" is considered today's most valuable lost painting.
Although I visited Boston a number of times, I have never made it to the Gardner place (shame on you Ivan, shame on you, bad art history student Ivan, bad art history student). The building itself is quite remarkable - it is in fact a Venetian Renaissance palazzo turned inside out. While the exterior is rather austere, it is the atrium that is adorned with Venice-inspired gracious arches that bathe in generous natural light, emanating a truly unique American eclectic luxury and poise.
Exterior view:
Interior view:
Although the Gardner collection is worth a billion or two, the security back in 1990 was anything but adequate. The two night guards were overpowered by the villains and in about an hour or two the canvases were either cut out and rolled (a filthy vandalism) or taken down as is (relative humility on the robber's side). No one seen them since. The gravest loss to the art world is of course Vermeer's 'Concert', not only because it is a breathtaking masterpiece, but also because there are only about thirty-four known Vermeers out there today, hence loosing (just) one becomes a major blow to our collective cultural heritage. Loosing a Rembrandt's piece isn't a cause for festivities either, but in his case we possess roughly about 300 oils, which is quite a substantial number.
One of the stolen Rembrandts:
Christ and the Storm in the Sea of Galilee, 1633.
"Stolen" went as far as alleging a connection of the Gardner robbery to the IRA activities; I liked their concept of "art as a hostage". Although as far as I'm concerned, some of these canvases could very well adorn the walls of some new-Russian's palace in Moscow today. Anyway, although these jewels are gone, the Gardner Museum is still very worth a visit - it remains a world class collection of fine art, with Botticelli, Titian, Van Dyck and many other adorning its walls. Speaking of the museum walls - the empty frames now mark the spots where the stolen masterpieces once hung.
Although I visited Boston a number of times, I have never made it to the Gardner place (shame on you Ivan, shame on you, bad art history student Ivan, bad art history student). The building itself is quite remarkable - it is in fact a Venetian Renaissance palazzo turned inside out. While the exterior is rather austere, it is the atrium that is adorned with Venice-inspired gracious arches that bathe in generous natural light, emanating a truly unique American eclectic luxury and poise.
Exterior view:
Interior view:
Although the Gardner collection is worth a billion or two, the security back in 1990 was anything but adequate. The two night guards were overpowered by the villains and in about an hour or two the canvases were either cut out and rolled (a filthy vandalism) or taken down as is (relative humility on the robber's side). No one seen them since. The gravest loss to the art world is of course Vermeer's 'Concert', not only because it is a breathtaking masterpiece, but also because there are only about thirty-four known Vermeers out there today, hence loosing (just) one becomes a major blow to our collective cultural heritage. Loosing a Rembrandt's piece isn't a cause for festivities either, but in his case we possess roughly about 300 oils, which is quite a substantial number.
One of the stolen Rembrandts:
Christ and the Storm in the Sea of Galilee, 1633.
"Stolen" went as far as alleging a connection of the Gardner robbery to the IRA activities; I liked their concept of "art as a hostage". Although as far as I'm concerned, some of these canvases could very well adorn the walls of some new-Russian's palace in Moscow today. Anyway, although these jewels are gone, the Gardner Museum is still very worth a visit - it remains a world class collection of fine art, with Botticelli, Titian, Van Dyck and many other adorning its walls. Speaking of the museum walls - the empty frames now mark the spots where the stolen masterpieces once hung.
De Gheyn's Witches and... a Hermit Crab
Bon Appetit and Sweet Dreams!
Van Gogh and Schiele: Artists' Bedrooms (Symbolist Self-Portraits?)
not my idea, really. the two hung alongside each other @ The Neue Galerie in New York as part of "Van Gogh and Expressionism" show.
Snakes of Sin and Virtue
one may think that the serpent (snake) would always represent Devil in the Christian iconography. well, not always. O.K.Werckmeister contends that the serpent, when depicted erect and confronting an obviously looking Muslim person, stands for the Christian martyrdom as an ultimate sacrifice in the fight against the sin. the image I found presents the serpent fighting a demonic beast, which must have been equated to a Muslim warrior in the Medieval Christian conscious (especially so in Spain). the traditional portrayals of the devilish snake, however, exist side by side with the more sacredly noble, hence totally antagonistic, representations of this wonderfully symbolic reptile.
A) Snake as a Christian warrior:
El Escorial (Beatus), c. 950-955
B) Snake as a Devil (defeated, of course)
Beatus d'Urgell, c.975
A) Snake as a Christian warrior:
El Escorial (Beatus), c. 950-955
B) Snake as a Devil (defeated, of course)
Beatus d'Urgell, c.975
Goltzius' Hand
Hendrick Goltzius, c.1600, pen and ink on paper. Originally from the collection of Emperor Rudolph II.
Although crippled as a child, his hand mutilated by a fireplace accident, Hendrick Goltzius became a preeminent graphic artist of his era (a painter, too, his oils are less than mediocre comparing to his works on paper). Here he portrays his unfortunate extremity, which also happens to be a bodily part of utmost importance to his 'trade' - the artist's hand. An ultimate self-portrait that tells you more about the author than any possible physiognomic depiction.