Love this!

Just really appreciated this set of posters advertising an art exhibit in Dakar.  Nice, storng graphic statement.  Love the blue-black-white print.  Nice going, Dakar!

Music, movement, breath, beauty

Wow.  Isn't this gorgeous?  This interactive media feature in the New York Times shows how conducting works with the musical director of the New York Philharmonic.  With very cool videographics from the Movement Lab, we can see the invisible lines and waves he makes with the tips of his fingers and the swoops of his hands.  We see him crouch and lift, bend and nod, as he explains what he his trying to draw out of two classical pieces.  I especially like the way he explains the draw of the note (how it finishes) and anticipating the arrival of a new instrument.

Classical music can be so  supremely beautiful.  At my trip to the Kennedy Center last month to see a special concert of the National Symphony Orchestra, I was so enchanted with how classical music just holds you.  There is something in classical music where the individual sounds of the dozens of instruments and an odd hundred musicians swirl in the air, blend, and become one beautiful sound.  I remember trying to just listen for the strings or the woodwinds, and it is a difficult task, as they become indistinct from one another as they fill each corner of that magnificent hall.

Venus Project

Awesome project by Italian artist Anna Utopia Giordano.  She takes classic pictures of Venus, and with Photoshop slims her down, flattens her belly, and enlarges her bust to reflect today's standards of beauty. I'm still a fan of luscious.

Props to Cup o' Joe for the link.

City Love

Over the weekend, Dear Daughter and I biked our neighborhood for the Renovator's House Tour.  We hit 5 of the 8 homes on view, and she was one to point out to me this lovely green mural in view of the back yard of one of the homes.  So sweet.  I love this pic - especially the color blocks that come from the lines of the telephone wires, the wall color, the small white-framed window, the charming heart-shaped foliage, and the clear blue sky of a gorgeous fall day.

The Renovator's House Tour features homes that have been creatively renovated and restored in our historic urban village. The thing I love about this particular tour is that it often showcases how families can make a go of city living, and how small spaces can be transformed in big ways by using space in efficient and innovative ways, and making rooms multi-functional.  Even more impressive, the tour is open to the public, and raises $20,000 for the local public school.

Nice life. 

Tribute to Cy Twombly (1928-2011)

Vivian Maier- Nanny/Photographer Extraordinaire

Photo credit:www.vivianmaier.blogspot.com

The world has recently discovered a the extraordinary photographs of Vivian Maier.  Maier was a nanny to  a Chicago family for 17 years whose now-grown children remember her as a Mary Poppins-type figure who delighted them with her French accent and wild adventurous outings. Somewhat of a private and solitary person, she spent her days off walking the streets with her camera - B&W, real film!! - capturing vivid street scenes with amazing framing, beautiful context, a wonderful story in every shot.

Once discovered - a bunch of negatives in an old box bought at a sale of an abandoned storage unit, set aside, and finally scanned and shared on Flickr two years later - the buzz of the find went viral.

Flowers

I [HEART] Philadelphia murals

There are many reasons I love my childhood hometown of Philadelphia.  It has wonderful distinct urban neighborhoods.  Society Hill, Rittenhouse Square, Fairmount, South Philly, West Philly, University City, West Oak Lane, Mount Airy, Old City, Chestnut Hill and Queen Village are just a few of the dozens of  true communities each with individual heritage, history, and flavor.   It's a local town - not filled transplants and transients.  When someone asks you where you went to school, they mean high school.

And my high school, in particular, elicits quite a response, if you're a local.  Central High School, founded in 1837, is the nation's second oldest public high school (after Boston Latin).  An all-boys school until 1983 when the elder sisters of some of my best friends took the school district to court, and won the case that the single sex admission policy was unconstitutional.  While Girls High (how's that for two lackluster high school names?), a college preparatory magnet school located down the street was considered Central's peer, Central's facilities, alumni old-boys' networks of Philadelphia's finest judges, lawyers, and doctors, and its alumni fund and college scholarships were far superior.  Central became co-ed, and I was in the second co-ed class in Central's history.  "2-4-7  Ho!" - as we used to say, for at Central you were not known as Class of '88, but as Central's 247th graduating class (a carry-over from when there were two graduating classes per year in January an June).

But I digress....

Wien Tour

I have little time to explore and observe on these work trips.  In fact, today, Sunday, I had a meeting from 10am until noon, and later on I have a reception at 6pm.  In between though, I took a quickie self-guided  tour of Vienna to get a better sense of its feel and flavor.  Admittedly, I was pretty efficient, this was definitely the 10-minute overview, but I got a decent sense of some of the city, and a sneak preview for my next visit someday when I come back on a real vacation with my lover.

It started with the U-bahn, a very good subway system with some of my favorite public transit amenities - clear signage; good, conceptual maps; the timing of the next train; and good subway car layout, with priority seats marked  for elderly, handicapped, and exhausted, swollen pregnant women.

I headed towards my meeting at the Vienna International Centre (the VIC, as I now affectionately call it) in the newest part of the city which houses the United Nations complex.  Quite honestly, it is horrid.  The buildings are pretty "Bloc-ish," and there is very little sidewalk-scape or civic life.  Large expanses of concrete pose as sweeping plazas.  This quarter must have been designed by a UN sub-committee.

(Tour more of Vienna... wacky architecture, Klimpt's Kiss, a streetside freak show, Mozart's sex life, and the perfect Viennese cafe!!... after the link.)

2010 Design Challenge - 2nd Nomination (Branding, Culture/Arts)

Here's a local nomination: The Washington Ballet's Nutcracker communications materials - programs, publicity, etc. produced by Design Army, a local firm located in the hip-fringe-destination-cum-ghetto, H St NE  Very bold, modern, festive with a Washington twist.  It takes the stuffiness out of ballet. [Note: Because of the flash player on Design Army's site, you can't see the comms materials in the link. If you're interested in checking it out, click on Design on the home page (linked above), then branding, scroll down to Washington Ballet Nutcracker, and enjoy!  It's worth it.]

Artistic Director Septime Webre has really re-envisioned the Nutcracker story to depict Revolutionary Times. The Nutcracker is George Washington, the Mouse King is King George III of England; the family Christmas party takes place in a Georgetown mansion with a special party guest, Frederick Douglas.  Later, in the land of the Sugar Plum Fairies (or in this case the Cherry Blossom Fairies), fantasy scenes depict other Americana and Washington references - the Anacostia Indians, Daniel Boone's frontier, southern river boats and hot-air balloons set against the back-drop scenery of the Tidal Basin in springtime.  It's a refreshing interpretation of the Russian Tchaikovsky ballet, and perfect for a DC and DC-tourist audience.

Design Army's branding materials carry this freshness and energy through, and help define the experience.  Nice deal - great design, local players, arts and culture space.  Hurray!

Tate Modern (Cy Twombly - Take 2)

I had a few hours before my flight Friday morning  to go to the Tate Modern.  Simply fantastic.  A wonderful collection of modern and contemporary art, as well as quite the visitor experience in looking at, thinking about, questioning, and creating one's own art.  I loved that it did not take itself too seriously. In fact, at times, seemed to question its own curation of the collection in mentioning how time, space and perspective can help shape and define, and even change, art's (a period, a genre, an artist) appreciation and significance.  Somewhat in the way history is also viewed and reviewed in perspective over time, place, and context, and of course, how history can be re-visited and reinterpreted.

The Tate Modern is housed in the formidable and re-adapted former Bankside Power Plant in Southwark along the Thames.  There were several wings I wanted to explore, as well as the rooftop restaurant, but I was only able to check out one.  The others will have to wait for my next visit.  Material Gestures, the third floor wing, I visited, is described thusly:

At the heart of this wing is a room devoted to painting and sculpture from the 1940s and 1950s, showing how new forms of abstraction and expressive figuration emerged in post-war Europe and America. The surrounding displays suggest affinities between the radical innovations of this era and the work of earlier artists, but also show the legacy of those ideas among contemporary practitioners who have continued to develop the language of art in new and unexpected ways.

Indeed, I saw some of my favorite art and artists, including some presented in completely new ways.  As I rounded the corner to the room pictured above, I was in awe.  Four great canvases were displayed in this room - one on each wall.  The vivid red strokes had such motion.  Yet the red on white canvas also suggested some austerity, as well as intensity.  The paintings were described as representing - at once- violence and ecstasy.  Indeed they were passionately violent, and violently passionate.  They fill the canvas end-to-end-to-center with a certain balance, and the size of the loops, while not uniform, are certainly consistent like sound waves or shock waves.  These are Cy Twombly paintings - the artist I profess to hate, the one I'm convinced has no talent, and has bewitched the art world.  But my reaction was strong and mostly positive (or at least engaged and provoked in a good way) when I saw these, and only a few moments later did I realize, I had be digging on Cy Twombly.  A man, an artist, I clearly need to revisit and reinterpret myself.

The Players Lounge, Anacostia

(c) 2010 Vegitect

I really like this photo.  I like the light and the lines, and the way each are reflected on both the wall and the floor.  I like the grid and the grit - I'm somewhat partial to a bit of grit.  I like the venue and the location of that venue -  and all that it represents.  The Player's Lounge, pictured here, is a seedy lounge/bar/restaurant located within DC's down-and-out Ward 8.  The Anacostia neighborhood in DC has old, historic, now dilapidated, houses, and once had a heyday of African-American music, culture and urban history.  But like many things in DC, it was ravaged by drugs, crime, and violence - nearly a lost generation.  To boot, DC's former and infamous mayor and current City Councilmember (?!?), Marion Barry - also ravaged by crack and crime - used to hang here.  There is a lot going on in this picture - artistically and contextually - both visible and invisible.  I also like the photog, Vegitect, whom I credit here.

Artiste Extraordinaire - Julie Mehretu

About 20 years ago while an exchange student in Dakar, I was housemates with Julie Mehretu. We lived in a group house of 10 American college students near the Universite Cheikh Anta Diop.  The 5-bedroom large house had barely any furniture. In the shared double bedrooms, we each had an armoire and slept on foam mattresses on the floor, and our living room had floor mats that were rolled out for daily lunches around a bowl of ceeb u jen (fish with rice).  The house at that time - the early 90's - was filled (no overflowing!) with the identity politics of our diverse group of politically-aware, young, smart activists living in West Africa that included gay, lesbian, bisexual, straight, white, black, bi-racial, multi-cultural, multinational.  All 10 of us, each holding some combination of these labels and associated fraught meanings - and for lack of a better label of my more complex self, I suppose I was the token white, straight girl born of two American parents.  Sometimes I describe that time as the pilot for MTV's Real World Dakar.  There was certainly the drama, the angst, the in-fighting, the affairs, and the alliances.

I recall Julie as funky, creative, temperamental, opinionated, passionate, radical, and brilliant.  While not in her artist identity at that time, she certainly often sketched in notebooks.  Daughter of a white American mother and a Ethiopian political refugee father, Julie had moved to Michigan in childhood, but had family still in Ethiopia.  Her aunt, a flight attendant for Ethiopian Airlines would occasionally bring platters of grandmother's homemade, truly authentic, made with love, doro wat  to the house, on her Addis -Dakar route.

After that year, the tensions of the house meant we did not keep in touch, though I ran into her a few times on the #1 subway when we both lived in New York in the mid/late 90's,  Finally over ourselves, our catch-up conversations were excited and warm.  She was embarking on an art career with some early success, and had begun dating her partner (and now spouse), Jessica (a white Australian, which, given the polarized identity politics of our group house, was notable).  We are now Facebook friends (or really acquaintances, though we had again some nice catch-up emails through social networking).  I won't claim more - but admittedly, I'm pretty psyched to even be within a outer orbit of this highly successful artist, to watch her success.  And her success, her art and her life's path - as well as my own - very much explain who we are and who we were, and from where and how we have become the people we are today.

And I'm pretty sure, even without this association, I would love, love, love her art.  A few year's ago, Julie's steep upward trajectory in  the art world came to my attention when the Smithsonian Museum of African Art had an exhibit of Ethiopia and the Diaspora, featuring both an installation piece and paintings by Julie.  It was at that time, I learned that she had shown in the Whitney Biennial.  Later that fall, she won a MacArthur "genius" award.  When the new building of the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA - my fave) opened in NYC, I went to check it out, and saw a massive Mehretu canvas, hanging in a prominent gallery doorway, purchased through the museum's 21st Century Fund.  Mark me impressed - no, make that in awe.

Julie's works are large abstract canvases are layered with back and white drafting marks, and overlay with color blocks of curls and swirls, and angular geometric forms.  The detailed, painstaking work of the drafting is so unusual in modern art.  The layers add meaning and depth that I can only begin to consider the significance.  The paintings are full of motion - highly energetic, dynamic, and kinetic.  They suggest orbits, systems, planets, depth,and complex systems - I suppose each depending on the paintings context as suggested in its title.

Recently, Julie was commissioned to do a humongous (this truly is the best word choice) mural for the new Goldman Sachs lobby in New York.  The recent New Yorker article describes it below (emphasis added):

Eighty feet long by twenty-three feet high, Julie Mehretu’s “Mural” dominates the entrance lobby of Goldman Sachs’s new steel-and-glass office building in lower Manhattan. Hundreds of precisely defined abstract shapes in saturated colors—small dots and squares, straight and curving lines, larger geometric or free-form shapes ranging from several inches to several feet in length—move across it in an oceanic sweep.

The fact that it is visible from the street through the glass and steel wall, as well as to all employees and visitors passing through he GS lobby make it semi-public art, and for that I am even more impressed. 

A few year ago, as I watched her grow - and fantasized about one day being an art collector of "undiscovered," emerging contemporary artists (perhaps even of Africa and the diaspora) -  I inquired at her representing gallery if there were any pieces for sale (there weren't - even at that time she was pre-selling on commission), and the price range (at that time, I think, upwards of $5,000- $10,000, now much, much more).  Out of my league. After reading the New Yorker piece, however, I did, however, treat myself to a limited edition Julie Mehertu lithograph print, "Stadia," created as part of the 2010 official art poster series for the FIFA 2010 World Cup in South Africa.

Cy Twombly Ceiling @ the Louvre

Cy Twombly has done a ceiling at the Louvre.  It's permanent, it's contemporary, it's a huge honor for him.  Trouble is, I'm so not a Twombly fan.  I first saw his work in the Philadelphia Museum of Art - described as scribbles on canvas, and was immediately unimpressed.  While I can get into some abstract art - Rothko and de Koonig among others - I think Twombly is a twit who is tricking us all.

Today's ceiling did not fail to underwhelm me. It looks like a kids bedroom mural, at best. Admittedly, it was cool upon entry to the room of Greek artifacts - busts, bronzes pieces, etc - and see such bold bright blue and celestial circles.  But really it's poorly crafted, and quite messy (and not in a cool conceptual way).  The description even says his ceiling was "realized" by X painter and Y architect, so all Twombly did was think up this mess.   It's just annoying that he has such billing and such recognition as this by the Louvre.

In the article link above, Twombly, himself, seems to question what all the fuss is about.  So maybe he's just as mystified by the art establishment's fawning over him, as I am.

Here I am am "admiring" the Twombly ceiling.

Cool! Must see....

My favorite aunt and uncle were recently in town.  I hosted them for breakfast, and scammed an invitation for dinner with them at G-town's La Chaumiere.  It was a lovely evening - delicious food and good conversation.  As NYC public school teachers and former Peace Corps Volunteers (like me), our conversations often turn to some my favorite topics - art, reading, travel, the NY Times, the state of public education, cooking, etc.

On this trip to DC, they spent the day at the museums, and this exhibit at the Smithsonian Museum of Africa Art sounds just wonderful.  I have always been vexed that the museum did not feature more contemporary African (and diaspora) artists.  Instead, it has defined African art as sort of a natural history/sociocultural/anthropological collection of ornately carved drums, walking sticks and pipes.  So I'm pleased the new curator gives these artists more attention.  I am also a fan of textiles, and the Dutch wax print fabrics, so prevalent in West Africa, are familiar and evocative to me.  Here, Yinka Shonibere uses these amazing vibrant printed fabrics to recreate Victorian scenes.    Here's another.  Anyway, just another way to look at things and bend the mind a bit.  I will have to check it out soon.