Old Dutch - Painting, not the potato chips...

When it comes to photo realism painting, no one holds a candle to the old Dutch masters.  When I went to The Netherlands a year and a half ago and went to Den Hague's Mauritshuis Museum, I finally saw Johannes Vermeer's "Girl with the Pearl Earring," Paulus Potter's giant animals, and Willem van Aelst's still lifes, I definitely fell in love even more.  It's always been a technique I've idolized.  Usually when I see a painting in person, I can finally see the flaws, the brushstrokes, the layers of color.  This is the best thing, I believe, about going to museums.  When I finally saw my first Frida Kahlo painting, I realized that she made some major mistakes or changes when painting.  Seeing the process, decisions made, and errors in ones you look up to is pretty cool.  Not so much for the Dutch.  Basically they're perfect, smooth, flawless.  In Vermeer's paintings, you can see brushstrokes up close, but from afar, it looks like a photo.  The above photo is an example of this technique.  A less famous version of the Dutch masters, this Jan Anthonisz van Ravensteyn painting was hanging in the Snite Gallery at Notre Dame University.  Those beautiful collars, although quite the fashion statement, would be a pain to paint.  The textures from fabric to frizzy beard hairs are so perfect.  The repetition and patterns that those painters achieved are so meticulously executed.  Seeing the paintings of the best of the best can be very discouraging.  However, seeing this paiting gave me a different outlook.  This is a style of painting that is reserved for the few these days.  It is popular to be gestural and abstract.  The days of photorealistic portraits may be long gone, but it is something I would like to explore even further.  Let's be Dutch and make ourselves go crazy by attempting perfection!   

Salvador Dali

What a weirdo he was, yes?  I finally made it to the Dali Museum in St. Petersburg, Florida.  It is said to have the biggest and finest collection of Dali's works...outside of Spain, that is.  Statements like that lead me to believe it would be a huge art museum.  In reality, it was much smaller than I was expecting, however, too much Dali might be overwhelming, so it was a perfect size for the amount of work.  There were some small pieces, some measuring in the hundreds of feet.  The museum was arranged in chronological order, which was wonderful to see Dali's progression through styles and themes.  Obsessed with Freud and sexuality, Dali's paintings usually were object heavy, and each object meant something to Dali.  (I won't bore you with an Art History lesson...but it is pretty interesting if you're into that kind of thing.)

My favorite pieces were ones I had never seen before.  One is the painting pictured above : Oeufs sur le plat sans le plat (Eggs on the plate above the plate), 1932.  As one of his earlier surreal paintings, his talent for realistic painted objects is very clear.  The egg is attached and hangs with a weight that is not possible for the object.  The yokes reflect the light from a window which is not seen.  The technique is fantastic...he created a photograph with paints.  

The other painting I really enjoyed is the one pictured below : Sentimental Colloquy, 1944.  Midway through his career, Dali became very popular in all artistic circles.  This painting below is a design he was working on for the New York Ballet.  What?!  Yes.  Pretty crazy stuff.  It's interesting to think of these famous artists being so commercial.  Some artists judge those who do custom work, portraits, mass production, basically anything that's not your heart's yearning desire to express your soul, as not actually doing art or selling out.  Photographers get this a lot.  My response is that Mucha, Lautrec, Michelangelo, and even snobs like Dali did it.  Why can't we?  

Dali used to be my favorite artist.  Then I learned a little more about art.  And now I realize, seeing his paintings up close, that his technique is not flawless (its pretty damn good though...).  I believe there comes a point when an artist becomes so self obsessed that they stop communicating through their art.  Dali got to a point in his art where he kept repeating himself and pushing the envelope just for the purpose of pushing the envelope.  He was brilliant though.  And, the man new how to grow a mustache.  

Notre Dame

Notre Dame is the kind of idyllic university we see in the movies.  Of course there is the giant stadium where all the football is played, but beyond that, there are thousands of trees and gorgeous buildings.  There's a strong sense of the history and culture of the university as you walk through it.  The first building I came across was the art gallery.  An actual art gallery filled with actual historical and contemporary artists!  (See last blog for a review of one of the exhibits.)  

Obviously I snuck around the art studios to check out how great the facilities are.  Well, pictured here to the left, is just one of the sculpture studios.  Just one of them.  HUGE great spaces that I could not even imagine getting to work in.  It seemed like a pretty wonderful art department.  And I am definitely keeping it in mind for grad school.

I explored the rest of the campus including the beautiful cathedral and breathtaking admissions building.  Paired with the beauty of the campus, the immature co-ed conversations I heard seemed so out of place.  But then, I must remind myself that they are young, and even though this place is gorgeous and historical, 18 year olds live there too.  It was quite the experience to be there the day before a home football game.  The campus started swarming with alumni.  The infants and oldies alike were dressed in Notre Dame gear (which, I must add is NOT cheap, as I found out in the over-crowded bookstore).  

Thin

"Thin" is a photography/film exhibit put together by artist Lauren Greenfield.  Right now, it is living at Notre Dame's Snite Gallery, which is where I happened upon it.  As you may guess, its subject matter is eating disorders.  Greenfield spent time at a clinic in Florida where she conducted interviews, was present for treatments, and filmed/photographed her experiences.  At first, I was disappointed by how literal the photos are.  They are very un-pretty: exposing cutting scars, ribs, and under-eye circles.  It is obviously made to make the viewer react strongly, which, it was successful at.

What the exhibit really succeeded at was telling the women's stories.  While it might have been a little cheap to show grotesque females to get a reaction, I believe, that paired with the individuals' stories next to the photos, it became appropriate.  As a woman, not only could I sympathize, but understand.  While never having a severe eating disorder myself, I am obsessed with my body, as I believe most women are.  And I don't mean obsessed as an egotistical term, but obsessed as in I think about how horrible I look all the time.  I don't want this to be a personal whine fest, but I think it's an important issue that we all deal with, and it's important to discuss it.  I remember being 6 years old and being in an outfit my mom was so excited to put me in, and all I could think about is that my belly stuck out over the pants and I thought I was fat.  I didn't last an hour in this outfit.  At 6 years old...which leads me to believe that it's not just our screwed up society that makes us so uber-critical.  I grew up with strong (although sometimes emotionally unstable) women influences who always told me I was beautiful.  No matter how often our mothers, sisters, and boyfriends tell us we're beautiful, it takes one glance at a girl in a bikini without any bulges or a reflection of ourselves in a glass door for us to go back to self-loathing land.

Needless to say, the exhibit affected me greatly.  I think that it would be a good idea for anyone who has been affected by their appearance or has been in a relationship with someone with low body image to check this out.  It's a good call to attention to the issue.  If we have the power to try to rise above this and prioritize our thoughts better or if we unfortunately do not, it's empowering to see what these other women have been through and seeing their fight to live.

http://ww.laurengreenfield.com/index.php?p=Y6QZZ990

The House on the Rock

The first time I heard about The House on the Rock (and paid attention) was when reading Neil Gaiman's American Gods.  When he writes about all the gods of all religions (burnt out, forgotten, etc) convening at this place, it perked my interest.  I researched it and found out it was a pretty quirky roadside attraction just outside Madison, WI.  And for how much I love Mr. Gaiman's writing, I couldn't get the pictures he painted out of my head, and I just had to go.

In the mid 1900s, an architect, Alex Jordan, wanted to build a spectacular house on the pinnacle of a rock in Spring Green, WI.  He did this and then opened it up as an attraction.  I'm guessing because of boredom or personal interest in collecting (the guy had to be a little off if you ask me) he built/assembled/collected tons of junk, which is now part of the attraction and museum of The House on the Rock.The main attraction is pictured above: the largest carousel in the world.  This, in American Gods, is the portal to Odin.  In person, it was hot, sweaty, and overwhelming.  There are no horses on the carousel, but hundreds of horses lining the walls/ceiling of the room the carousel is housed in.  The creatures on the moving carousel range from bulldogs to mermaids.  You can't actually ride it, which is a bummer, but it's pretty impressive.  The attraction has many rooms filled to the brim with some genuine articles, but mostly crazy worthless items that end up being impressive by sheer volume.  The rooms full of dolls was by far the creepiest.  There was a full scale model of a humpback whale (with teeth...hmmm not accurate) and a squid attacking it.  Also in the same gigantic room, was an "Octopus' Garden" area where you could insert a token and listen to a mechanical "band" playing the Beatles' song while the cartoon-y octopus "played" the instruments.  There were rooms upon rooms of lavish musical sets with the same token invoked canny music.

The attraction took the most time to walk through, as there was so much to look at.  As an artist, I couldn't help but be inspired by all the objects and design.  It was such chaos.  The mass of STUFF was inspiring and disturbing all at the same time.  A lot of these objects took a lot of craft to create and assemble, and although he must have been insane, the talent must be recognized!

The actual house was the most interesting/impressive part of the attraction.  The story is that Alex Jordan wanted to study under Frank Lloyd Wright, who was his hero.  Wright, looking at Jordan's sketches, laughed in his face and told him he was ridiculous.  Obviously, Jordan was not accepted into Wright's highly prestigious Taliesen school, which happens to be 5 miles down the road from where Jordan decided to build his masterpiece in Spring Green.  The story is just hilarious to me, knowing how pretentious Wright was, and that The House on the Rock attracts more visitors than Taliesen.  The house is small, the ceilings were so uncomfortably low.  The structure is built into and on the rocks.  The interior walls are partially natural rock, and the Japanese design is beautiful.  The impressive part is the cantilevered portion that juts out hundreds of feet from the main structure:

The cantilever ends in a point, leaving not enough room for adults to walk to the end.  It was rickety and creepy and beautiful.  Here's a view from below/side.  See how it's just leaning on that one rock for support?!  Yes.  Cool.

Although it costs an adult $28 for the full tour (and no student discount...), it is so worth it.  Just about 30 minutes West of Madison, The House on the Rock is a wonderfully unique way to spend a day.