For a change, I have too many thoughts…. Nearly fifty years in medicine and I still don’t understand women… anatomically… well, figuratively too. … I hug my dear wife all night long…. But then again, artists are guilty too.
There are challenges. For instance, sculpting eyes is a good example. The pupil of the eye cannot be depicted in stone. So a hole gives the eye depth. Or, not. It’s a choice and I imagine the hole is the best compromise. Painters? Do they paint from real life or their mind’s eye? Sculpt? The old master (top left) – he painted breasts as plastic surgery augmented breasts. They stick out without naturally (lying) folding. The depiction is anatomically incorrect. Naively, I would have passed this by without another criticism before. Sculpting a breast is equally challenging. After all, it is (mistake) written in stone.
This artist, in her retrospective, tries to depict women (herself) naturally. She paints anatomically correctly… as one would view a photograph. Ah! Real or abstract? (Un)natural breast augmentation is a recent medical procedure, but, it appears that artists have taken liberties much longer. Lest we forget, women do not walk about naked. So, it is the clothing curving outward which completes the allure.
Indeed, seventy plus years old, I am still learning. Or, at least I am changing or discovering new viewpoints. All these decades of study… and I still don’t understand women. But, I shall keep thinking about it. On a cold wintry day during Covid in the middle of January…
street photography | Definition, History, Types, & Facts …https://www.britannica.com › Visual Arts › PhotographyStreet photography, a genre of photography that records everyday life in a public place. The very publicness of the setting enables the photographer to take candid pictures of strangers, often without their knowledge.
As a street photographer, the obvious thing in your possession is your camera. … In New South Wales you are not under a legal obligation to explain or justify your photographic activities or to answer any questions, even if the police arrest you.
Perfect spring day. Happy ending in Krazy Cat restaurant. This is the famous March Bank at the DuPont estate Winterthur. March Bank? Henry DuPont created a natural garden that blooms with millions of bulbs in the spring – timed, wave after wave of flowers bloom in the most tranquil setting. Wandering the beauty, we came upon a painter. I got a couple shots. I was speculating whether she was a man or a fat woman. Her sharp glance and admonition were, to “not” take her picture. It’s street photography in a public space. Sorry to say: her painting was not very good. So, I guess, she had good reason to be shy. Nonetheless, we had a standoff. I never argue. I just did not take another.
Now, the March Bank. I shot around 1500 images. Yeah, nuts! The first-round edit was disappointing. Not a single standout shot. I think I may be too harsh a critic of my work. Second glance – it was not so bad. It’s a fine line between average and good. Sometimes a little (time) distance helps.
Street photography – it’s legal. Confrontation is never comfortable. For me, it remains a challenge.
How would we have known? You travel. Your local guide tells you facts you had never considered. Being fat was a sign of wealth. And the wealthy also traveled to the “continent” for their portrait to be commissioned to a famous painter (of the time). In this instance, the lord was young and not yet corpulent. So, the painter painted up his hands and face. And then, the lord paged through a catalog and picked out a body to be painted and matched. Voila! Fat and rich! Who’d have thunk…?
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.
Van Gogh painted his bedroom. It’s famous. It’s been in my subconscious always. I think. I’m not an artist nor too much interested. The Chicago Art Institute is well known. Duh? They put on an exhibition,” Bedrooms.” The lines were out the door. Wisely we looked up the time and found that you could order up a fast pass. Skip the lines. Get into the exhibit fast. Pay extra. Time was money. Paid online an hour before we went. It seemed like cheating. Well, we paid for it, for sure.
Got there, got in, cut across the big line. In! To the exhibit. There’s plenty more to the museum but we wanted to see the exhibit. Go! Front of the line and the man with the bar code scanner said, “Whoa! You have a fast pass but that does not get you into the Van Gogh exhibit.”
“Foul!” I cried. No problem. Back up. Pay $5/per more for entry. Dammit. You’d think that all that other money would have gotten us in…
The fuss? Van Gogh painted his bedroom three different times. Side by side you can see the differences. And otherwise I am sure I have seen this painting. But I never knew there were three versions. Yes, I do brain surgery. I’ve been under a rock. So, look. The background in each version is slightly different. The three paintings make for an interesting exhibit. I am a photographer. I took advantage that the museum let me take pictures. So many people crowded in front and with their smartphones shot a remembrance. Few paused long enough to appreciate the paintings. I mean ten seconds and one smartphone pic later, that’s not terribly fulfilling. But in today’s world you have about fifteen seconds before the next event hits the news cycle.
To be honest, I did not notice the differences until they were pointed out. This is art not science. I gladly claim happy ignorance. Teach me.
No, I won’t photograph my bedroom three times. No one will care a hundred years from now.
I like to see artists at work. It is human curiosity to just be nosy. As I looked over their shoulders I was puzzled. There were three artists at work. It was in the middle of chaos at the Cape Neddick lighthouse. They are not, and I repeat, they are not looking at the light nor the ocean. They were facing the parking lot. So I am puzzled. I guess I might even go so far as to say they are working on imagination or it might as well be a photograph. The middle of a parking lot? I grant that there was a lot of traffic. I don’t get it.
I guess I might best describe this as the center grass of a round about. The cars circle and you get the benefit of all the fumes. Peace and quiet it’s not.
She was hard at work at dusk painting the scene. It is Maine and I suppose it is quintessential. At least there were some boats off in the distance acting as inspiration. The view below is more or less about the view my naked eye had for the rowboats. So detail was not so important. The boats and the place were the inspiration.
There is a spot in Central Park where there are some spectacular displays of tulips. It doesn’t appear every year. But this year they were in full splendor. And what is better than painters catching an artful interpretation of the display? So I ask why their easels were set up before the tulips and at the top of each easel was a picture (not this scene) from which they were referencing. Did I miss something? They are painting a picture in front of a real scene of beauty. Hey, it’s a way to go, I guess.