Posts Tagged ‘art’

Priceless Things.

Wednesday, February 24th, 2010

The other day I went digging around in one of my favorite art stores and found a collection of old zines.  One of them, titled “I Dreamed I was Assertive” (vol. 11), interested me because the author xeroxed a picture of a medieval-looking Madonna and Child onto the cover. Snippets of handwritten musings on food, Gertrude Stein, Joseph Cornell and Hemingway interspersed with photographs, clip art and doodles  was enough for me to decide that I “had” to have it. I bought it for 50 cents.

I felt an immediate kinship with the author, who by page 4, fully admitted her tendency to research obsessively any given topic she might be interested in.  At the moment, it was Alice B. Toklas, life partner of Gertrude Stein, who collected cookbooks, and even wrote one. The author’s own fantastic collage of words and images made even more colorful the names of  Toklas’s recipes such as “Custard Josephine Baker”, “Violet Soufflé”, and “Pink Pompadour Bass”.

By the end of the zine, the playful entries on food and daily life journeyed toward a deeper inspection of the author’s emotions she came in touch with while cleaning out her dad’s belongings after he died. Much to her surprise, some of the things she found (such as fake birth certificates, calling cards, and gun registrations) revealed a whole life unbeknownst to her and her family. Her dad collected and organized these things from his secret past as meticulously as he collected “more acceptable” things such as stamps and paper rings from cigars.

She wrote, “is it wrong to care about things? In the big picture, not necessarily wrong, but you shouldn’t love things more than people. But in the small picture of our lives, things are so often what define us and make our day-to-day existence bearable. Life should not be lived this way,  but sometimes it is the only life we can, or know how to, live. “

The attachment to and self-definition through things is also one of the themes explored in the movie “Grey Gardens” (HBO 2007), which I became slightly obsessed with during the same week I stumbled upon the zine.

As the movie warns us, even beautiful things can turn into trash over time. For the Beales women, the rotting and decay of their things symbolized their own degradation from socialites to hoarders and trash people.

In the directors’ commentary, they mention that Little Edie loved to decoupage. She cut out pictures from old Christmas cards, magazines, newspapers, and wrapping paper, and gave them new life in her correspondence, and on her books and furniture.

This practice of cutting, pasting, and repurposing is what artist Joseph Cornell (1903-1972), mentioned early on in the zine, spent most of his reclusive life working on. Several of his famous “boxes” pay homage to portraits of children. He seemed especially obsessed with the 16th-century Italian princess Bia (the illegitimate child of Duke Cosimo de’ Medici), who died shortly after her portrait was painted. In Cornell’s “Medici Princess” (1952),  images of little Bia are neatly cut up and rearranged to produce an unsettling meditation that surely garners viewer responses that are entirely different from the intent of the original painting.

I find it so interesting that the arrangement, disarrangement, and rearrangement of things define not only where we come from, but who we are, who we want to be, what we dream of, etc.

Even though the Beale women ended up in a ruinous state like their things, Little Edie adamantly claimed “my mother gave me a completely priceless life.” (Edie Bouvier Beale 1917-2002)

Pimp My Ride.

Sunday, November 1st, 2009

The 19th-century painter, Edgar Degas (1834-1917) remarked that “the frame is the pimp of painting; it enhances it, but it must never shine at the painting’s expense.” The Spanish philosopher José Ortega y Gasset (1893-1955) clarified this idea when he wrote “a picture without a frame has the air about it of a naked, despoiled man. Its contents seem to spill out over the four sides of the canvas and dissolve into the atmosphere.”

When contemplating a work of art, I think it’s commonplace to think away its framing device, whether it is a literal frame or even an ideological framing device.

In terms of Fashion, haute couture runway shows can be interpreted as framing devices. The framework of the runway show is the arena that functions as a safe haven for artists to translate their wildest, most provocative dreams and fantasies into a 3-5 minute story that is told through elaborate design and costume. In many respects, a lot of the designs experienced on the runway are not suitable (aesthetically, functionally) for everyday, ready-to-wear fashion. We require dissolution and simplification…boundaries.

While boundaries are no doubt a good thing, they are even better when they don’t “shine” on their own—at the artwork’s expense.

Find your arena in which to operate; live and create fully.

Nota bene: The Post- girls are not advocates for prostitution, in its most widely used definition.

Art & Identity

Monday, August 3rd, 2009

When I saw Robert Rauschenberg’s parachute costume that he designed for Antic Meet (1958), a performance choreographed by the recently passed Merce Cunningham, several thoughts came to me:

1. I love it.

2. I didn’t know Rauschenberg designed costumes/clothing.

3. It’s beautiful, light, flowy and comfy looking.

4. If I had one, I would wear it everyday…over leotards and leggings, with brightly-colored scarves, with long sweaters, with knee-high boots…

With the exception of #2, these are very similar to the thoughts that rush to my mind when I see a spectacularly designed piece of clothing or accessory (note the justification thinking in #4).

While not everyone might be a fan of the parachute dress, isn’t it wonderful to know that we shape our uniqueness with the creative energies garnered from artists/designers/choreographers/performers who make our world more provocative, interesting, and beautiful…

The Hard Way

Monday, May 25th, 2009

Imagine this: You’re living in the Midwest.
Okay, close your mouth and unroll your eyes.

Try again.

You’re living in the Midwest…

You have a gorgeous and precocious child.

He grows up to be the star quarterback of his high school football team and senior class president.
He gets accepted to Yale.
You can’t afford to pay for Yale.
He tells you not to worry about it; that he can take care of it.
His good looks enable him to sign with a modeling agency in NYC.
He gets jobs for major labels such as Ralph Lauren and J. Crew.
He puts himself through Yale, majoring in Studio Arts.
He graduates in 1989.

By the mid-1990s, he is recognized as one of the most significant artists of the late 20th century.

Sound easy?

Not really.

Matthew Barney reminds us that it’s not always easy.

Art is hard.
Fashion is hard.
Hard provokes us, pushes us, makes us vulnerable and raw.

Who wouldn’t want it any other way?

Ice, Ice, Baby…

Wednesday, May 20th, 2009

The arrival of our “Apollo White” to round out our P3 collection has been on our brains lately. Named after the Apollo Space Program (1963-1972), which included launches to the moon during both summer and winter months, our belief is that white looks fabulous all year ‘round.  Like ice, white is good in the summer and pretty in the winter…

Murakami Machine

Sunday, February 8th, 2009


While I can’t say that I’m a huge fan of Takashi Murakami’s art, I completely appreciate that he understands the relationship between art and commercialism as the formula for success for today’s artists. Who doesn’t want the cool t-shirt, poster or keychain that validates our cultural intelligence?

Murakami completely breaks open the myth of artist as “the solitary genius” by employing a small army of artists to assist him in his creative process. This honest confession to one’s artistic production would have many a turnin’ in their graves—starting with Michelangelo. Murakami’s company, Kaikai Kiki, similar to Warhol’s Factory, addresses our need for consumption. So, it’s no surprise that his retrospective at the MOCA included a Louis Vuitton boutique where fashionistas could buy LV handbags printed with his popular multicolor spin on the Louis Vuitton logo. Paul Schimmel, chief curator of MOCA, noted that “it was difficult for a museum to relinquish this sacred ground, but it was absolutely the right thing to do in this instance.” So, we flock to the museum shows to contemplate the dynamics of Murakami’s critique on contemporary culture or because we want to make sure we get that gorgeous handbag? Either way, Murakami’s got us.

For more on Murakami, see Sarah Thornton, Seven Days in the Art World, “The Studio Visit”, (2008).