You know me and art. I’m no artist. Photography ain’t art. Pressing your finger to the shutter is not a particular skill. Ha ha. Yes, it’s all tongue in cheek. For real? A recent NYT article described 3D imaging and used an artists’ loft as its model (see below left). They said the clutter was arranged carefully over years to achieve the exact art effect they (artists) desired. Ha ha! I am hysterical! Yes, laughing hysterically. We do/did it in my/our (it takes more than one) house. It takes about a day. It is ever changing. This was our seasonal look. Clutter? Art!? Oh yeah! Oh yes! Things are in their place once. Who can keep track? It’s enough to make your mother shudder. Hey! No dirty laundry. I drew the line when I saw Dave sniffing his laundry in his room to decide if it was wearable. The washer was on the wall directly behind his bedroom.
Some have art. Some have clutter. I guess there’s a fine line between art and clutter. We have family and friends shuddering (with laughter) as they read this.
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
Cat in front of a dresser. It’s a graphic photo. Interesting. Museum of Modern Art quality. For me it was striking. Elle was kind enough to pose for me. Sure. Right?! But I got this picture. No post process. Out of the box. I think it’s worthy. Some of the no talent stuff we have seen, I’m equal to their talent on some days. Bored? Did they… or was I? Obtuse? … you wanna copy?
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.
Nowhere to hide. If you make a basket with a precise pattern, any error is glaring. The problem is that the mistake you make is gradual and therefore not readily apparent until near the end. One among us is more OCD than the other. Yes, that would not be me. I wonder how many – none – in the basket class realize I was once a brain surgeon. Ha! “If it doesn’t fit, force it.” Or, you can always make something worse, worser. No, I cannot claim wide angle distortion. Exposed, nowhere to hide.
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.
Here’s something more artistic. We were returning to the car after dinner. There! Monotone. Powerful.
I thought of this while sitting in a tavern waiting for our pizza (gluten free) to be brought to the table. Idle minds… and voila!
There are a myriad of ways to do this image. This was my way. We thought it came out about as humorously as we had hoped.
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.
Restaurant. I was just sitting looking across and this couple was in my view. The light was stark, the wall monotone, and the scene conjured up some museum painting. I was struck by similar facial features that recall to mind how people grow old and look more and more alike. Yes, you know all the psych related to that… I just liked the graphic opportunity, as in, image.
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?
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.
I don’t consider myself an artist. I make images now. But it is more of a technical exercise with problems to solve. You solve the problem. You have the answer. The right answer gives you a 100 on the test. You get an A. Not so fast. There’s more than just pressing the shutter button. Lots of mundane ordinary photos are taken. Famous painters – Rembrandt, Da Vinci – painted themselves in self-portraits. We presume Da Vinci was left handed among other reasons because he did a painting showing his right hand. Clever! I’m a left hander in a right-hand world. I learned to operate right-handed and then adapted. I cut with scissors from the right and from the left. It’s no big deal. But if you are right handed I deem it a lot more difficult for you than me. Ha ha. I go both ways. I have talent, but I’m still not an artist.
The most iconic painting that equates Le Louvre to art is the Mona Lisa. And did you know Whistler’s Mother is owned by France. Don’t bother to go see the Mona Lisa. Its mounted under glass and crowded with people. You are stuck with the glare of the glass that prevents any meaningful examination. I did not know “Mother” was owned by France and loaned out across the United States. We were lucky to see it in Paris. What do I know? What I can tell you is that iconic paintings tend to be in accessible or hard to find. (they’re traveling.)
I’ve been to a lot of museums in the past several years. Am I making up for lost time? Who knows? What I can say is that I now try for a gestalt overview and then a detail of the brush strokes. It helps to include the label so I can identify the darned painting later. No, even though digital makes this easy, I don’t do it. There are a few painters I recognize. Mostly, I admire the technical prowess. I cannot tell much difference. It’s me. I can’t tell the differences in wine taste either. I’m missing a gene. No matter. I have other talent and am content to continue to look and try to be appreciative. It’s a work in progress (me). Ain’t educashun gran?