You go to the museum during the pandemic. There are new rules. You may not (ever) touch the art! We need an appointment. Wear a mask. How do they really know it’s us? Ah, well, we are still having fun. It’s “still” art. Colleen’s a good sport. My sense of humor is unabated.
It’s interactive. It’s easy. You go to a museum. You get inspired. You make art. Example: Fans – Guggenheim Museum, New York City circa 2014. The beach hotel shower served as inspiration ala the Gugg. We weren’t done. Portland circa 2018, ala Star Trek, open fifth. Okay open seventh, but that’s a musical term. Once more I ask you, “WTF, a set of floor fans is worthy of exhibit at the Guggenheim.” I must be outta my head. Sorry, I can’t be. I am/was a neurosurgeon. Damn!
I’m messin’ with cha. In follow up to my museum musing, I saw Dave’s painting on my wall. It would not be out of keeping in a museum. …’cause I don’t know how to be an art critic. It’s my kid’s work. Kid proud! But! He’s got talent. I’m not kidding. There is that subtle, ” je ne sais quoi.” No denying it. The other, modern art. A bunch of fake flowers juxtaposed with a wall remote. Oh yeah! If you print and frame it, someone will love it.
Colleen adores museums. Me? I’m mixed. And with my sense of humor… Diane speaks of museums like trophies… the pictures (art), she has seen..nauseating. I consider it art snobbery… like name dropping. !!! You don’t do that to a (former) New Yorker. It’s fodder to mine a rich vein of humor.
How? Sometimes, I just make her pose. It’s a testament to Colleen’s good humor.
Sometimes we Photoshop. Yes, I do have some talent. Unfortunately, My sense of humor is cracked, somewhat.
And, Colleen has been a willing participant. Well, maybe she humors me. … maybe, unwillingly.
What do I say? We like to laugh. We have a good time. I go to museums to humor her. I am humored by the peace and quiet. Quiet? Contemplation? Nourishment for the mind and soul? It’s perfect. We are so well matched.
So much art
So little time…
It’s about fun. Eh?
‘cause sometimes it ain’t art
The skirt does not do this young lady justice. We awaited the lecture to start. This poor gal could not get the overhead projector to project. Oh well, been there, done that. Tech, media, it always fails when you need it – right now! Anyway, see the reflection. She was standing perfectly. I used this to get Colleen into position later.
We all have heroes. I have had mine in neurosurgery. I even got a picture with a few of them. It’s flattering (to them) and it’s neat for me. Colleen has had the same inspiration to get shots with a few people we meet. She’s shy. So, I have to sort of maneuver. Voila! And, afterward I used the tour of the gallery to inspire me as I utilized the reflections for my own shots. I have no particular interest in recreating the technical excellence of these original works. I certainly appreciate the work and the thought. But my photography is entirely in a different direction.
Okay, here’s more fun in the museum. Inspired? I have been on a tear since one member of our family disparaged our enthusiasm for art. True, there is a lot of art that does not move me. And then, there is art that calls for interactive participation. Fun! Yes, art can be fun. And so, here we are. This internationally renowned artist photographs ordinary objects and makes one look at the extraordinary aspect of their use. Take a wrench, make it your own. How about enthusiasm?
Or think for yourself?
We had a lot of fun. Art appreciation is for everyone.
I think of history as old and ancient – time. Colleen and I have been together a few short years. Yet…. all the ornaments I had went with Lisa. Colleen brought some and we acquired a few (lot), just like we acquired a few (four) more cats. As you see, we get a lot of help. That would be Nutley (aptly named).
Santa? A friend collected them. I never paid much attention. Colleen got an interest. And off we went. When we visited Winterthur, it seems that Mr. Dupont collected Santas too. How’d we compare? Not too bad. My hat’s off to Colleen’s sharp eye. I may find them but she’s the one with final approval. Honestly, I am impressed with how quickly our collection has accumulated in such a short span. Call it, making up for lost time. Mr. Dupont’s Santas are to the left.
Who knew? Cranston – Stuart and Catherine. They invented it. He thought of it; she ran with it as his biggest competitor. A famous architect of the time designed her Willow Tea shop. It’s all retold in the Kelvin Grove museum. And! We had a reservation that very afternoon. How neatly serendipitous is that! Really! The décor was as it was shown in the museum right down to the distinct high-backed chairs. My research assistant (wife) outdid herself this time, for sure! Chuckle, I was tickled pink!
California. Museum. Boredom. Sometimes there is enough art, too much. I need to do some. So, I got the nearest willing subject and made her walk the museum for me. And then I made a composite. More fun. There are many ways to have fun in a museum. Aren’t there?
We were in the museum and I sat to wait. I contemplated. And, I photographed. Me, you, and the mirror reflection. Fun! And, then ala Andreas Feininger, I paid homage to an image that stuck in my memory. Are there new photos or are there copies of something previously done? Either way, we had fun while I waited and rested.
After a while, it felt like we were in a photo booth. Well, no, but it was fun anyway.
No! Well, sometimes it ain’t art. Well, no, someone loves it enough to hang it in the museum. My stuff’s not hanging. So, it’s art- there’s. But not to me. Are you following along here? ‘cause as far as I can judge, there’s no skill to slapping up random shapes of color. It just fails to “call” to me. Obviously, someone thinks this is important. And, I see “emperor’s new clothes.” So, make the “piece” your own.
We’re at it again. Think Salvador Dali and the flying cats – Philippe Halsman. I don’t remotely pretend to greatness. But once in a while inspiration strikes. Art. I was already warned to never – ever – consider tossing my cats into a picture. Ever! Meanwhile we did this poorly lit moody picture. As a critic might comment, it was to enhance the moment and add mystery. None of that… it was just dark in the museum and I was too lazy to do any more.
I could be wrong. But she reminds me of Picasso. Compliment? Sure! I’m probably wrong. But the artist recalls cubism. It’s not my cup of tea. But, I can appreciate the talent.
So much art, so little time. It’s about fun, right? ‘cause sometimes it ain’t art.
Do you need an explanation? Or, do you get it? Explanation? Is art fun? Serious? Did you ever have the sneakin’ feelin’ the artist is havin’ a laugh on you? On me? Someone actually bought this to hang on a wall. Some walls are better than others. I wish I could do art like this…
Iconic! We saw it! Andy Warhol, remember him? He painted a soup can and gained fame for it. He was the first to think of it. At the very least he was the first to execute the work and call it art. We were there. It’s about as iconic as standing before the Mona Lisa. Not the same, but nonetheless, it’s famous. I did not expect to see it nor to find it. But there! This was not on my bucket list. But we stumbled upon it. No one else in the museum was the least bit excited. It’s kind of like meeting the Beatles. Who?
Too numerous to pick. I was taking shot after shot. Mostly good. Pick one, or two… shots. I was not doing catalog work. I was looking for an image to stand out. Ah! Well, here’s my pick. As I say, too many images, not enough space. I don’t discard. But there is only so much time (too little) to acknowledge one’s work. Don’t spend too much time. I don’t obsess. I let gestalt prevail. View the lot and let one image catch your eye. It’s no beauty contest. No one will hate you if you do it.
In the National Portrait Gallery there is an atrium. And this was the venue for a large orchid display. Beautiful! Enjoy! And there were people to see it too. I missed the shot of a short white polka dotted dress on a tall young man with sideburns. Drat! But I got this one of a guy mimicking one of the flowers. Thank you for being there for me.
“To commemorate Women’s History Month, the National Museum of the American Indian presents The REDress Project, an outdoor art installation by artist Jaime Black (Metis). Showing in the United States for the first time, the installation of empty red dresses centers on the issue of missing or murdered indigenous women. Black hopes to draw attention to the gendered and racialized nature of violent crimes against Native women and to evoke a presence through the marking of absence.”
It’s not isolated nor limited to indigenous women. It’s worthy of note. It deserves more than a tsk tsk. What will you do? This museum, of all the Washington museums we passed, was the only one with a security check at the door. There’s not much controversy in dino bones. But here…
You may have guessed that I have a dim view of modern art. I don’t see the point in a mish mash of paint and call it abstract art. Or that all black panel where the artist advises: “should it ever need retouching, use ## black paint.” Oh! We were at a basket exhibition at the Biggs Museum. Non-traditional ones were also on display. How about a basket made of staples? Is it ‘the more outrageous’ that gets displayed? There was a screen vase made with woven spots. And the screen was flamed to leave flame marks. At least I can see that. The most fascinating thing was a take-off on the Perfect Storm – movie and book. That maelstrom at least made sense to me.
The Biggs Museum runs/ran a photo exhibition. Submit your photo for criticism and be selected, get displayed and maybe win a prize. Oh, okay. I found out it’s completely subjective. You are at the mercy of the likes/dislikes of the juror. Submitting work is a crap shoot. You may have excellent work. You may think you have excellent work… It was enlightening to understand the process of selection. Basically, anything goes. There was stuff I would have thrown out that got honored. And the grand prize went to a picture I would have tossed. I’m not whining. In fact, the lecture opened up new thinking for me. I don’t need a juror or a show. I don’t need the credit. For as many years as I have been a photographer, it has been for pleasure. It is definitely not my day job. Although I would be happy to do a job for you. Ha! No pressure. Keep on shooting. If anything goes:
Shoot the moon. Ignore the power lines. It’s the moon. Power lines add interest. Well, I don’t agree. But….
Charge your phone. Vampire. Just scoot on in to the lecture, help yourself, charge right up. No matter there’s a photo show/op right there.
Cat/silhouette, I would have shooed away the cat. Now it is better to have tension in this picture of the morning star.
Reflections, sure, shoot ‘em if you got ‘em. Juxtapose. See things in a new light. I shot this shortly after leaving the museum.
In a single day, I broke out of the doldrums. What I learned? Anything goes. Happy shooting.
There were several groups of kids running around the museum. They were undisciplined and loud. The teacher apologized profusely. No problem. We’ve been there/done that. We helped ourselves to their art supplies. And then we made our own art. In the corner over there…the discussion was intent. Why the corner? I’ve been framed before… See or be seen?
I’ve been to a lot of museums and on occasion I get to feeling a little silly. So, I incorporated the experience in my Photoshop antics. It’s not too hard to do. I’m not a multilayer manipulator. I do a few things only. Otherwise my attention wanes. I like that they hung a window near a window. The obvious problem was with the interior exposure vs the outdoor brightness. It’s simple to fix with two images exposed with the final plan in mind. And then I simply cloned myself. It’s better than genetic modification.
Grandma Moses. Anna Mary Robertson Moses (September 7, 1860 – December 13, 1961), known by her nickname Grandma Moses, was an American folk artist. She began painting in earnest at the age of 78 and is often cited as an example of an individual who successfully began a career in the arts at an advanced age.
I am okay. But the painting is pretty primitive. Is that fair? Maybe childish? Juvenile? Here’s my point. Look at the eyes. They are just painted dots. Dots. Not even an attempt at making them symmetric. I was kind of shocked. Because you start when you are old, it gives you a free pass on technique? I guess, I should get out my paint again. I did some mickey mouse watercolor work last year. I dispatched the efforts to the junk pile. Right place, right time, favorable critics – timing is everything.