But You Didn't, Did You?

For the Love of God (2007) by Damien Hirst

My tastes in art are very inclusive, liberal in regards to craftsmanship, and friendly towards conceptual experimentation. Yes, I love traditional representational artistry, but I am equally as enamored by intellectually engaging innovations. At the very least, I'm willing to keep an open mind towards the work, listen to the general critical assessment, and, with as much empathy as I can muster, consider the creative process that led to the creation of such a work.

But the works of Damien Hirst have never won me over. I find their concepts to be purest banality. Sure, I love a good vanitas, but Hirst's works are more about spectacle and sensation than contemplations on mortality, regardless of what he titles the pieces. Well, what's wrong with a bit of showmanship in the art? Nothing, but the flash ought to reinforce the work's premise. Instead, Hirst's stuff is shallow razzle dazzle, with a "concept" that feels tacked on to provide a fig leaf of aesthetic legitimacy.

In all honesty, it feels like total hucksterism, a big scam. I've racked my mind trying to see what so many insightful and erudite critics find of value, but have come up with nothing. In terms of originality, personal craftsmanship, composition, beauty and the sublime, Hirst's art is a failure, completely without authenticity or charm.

Detail of The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living (1991) by Damien Hirst


But, if it would earn me vast sums of wealth, I'd pickle a big fish and come up with profound sounding mumbo jumbo too. So, in amazed respect for Damien Hirst's financial artistry, let's wish him a Happy Birthday.

Disasters of War

Detail of the Third of May 1808 (1814) by Francisco Goya

Every so often, it's important to reflect upon the cruelty and brutality that we humans inflict upon each other through warfare. Whatever the cause, be it religion or nationalism or political philosophy, the consequences are terrible. The horrible suffering brought by war is rarely justified. Even more uncommon is when justice prevails after the conflict is resolved.

Currently, the USA is involved in a long war in Afghanistan. At this point in the conflict, there seems to be little point to American presence in this far off country. Moreover, it seems that nothing good is coming out from American actions. There is only pain and terror for the Afghan people who are caught between the US-led occupation and the Taliban-led insurgency.

What should be done to promote peace and liberty? I don't know. However, my guideline on dealing with crisis management is: if you're not helping, get out of the way. I think that's probably a good idea for US foreign policy as well.

Detail of Plate 71 "Against the Common Good" from The Disasters of War by Francisco Goya

I don't like getting political here at Paideia, but the Third of May seems a proper day to reflect on warfare and its costs.

Strangeness In Your Smile

Mona Lisa (c.1503-06) by Leonardo da Vinci

I can't let the day end without celebrating the birth date of Leonardo da Vinci. As I've mentioned previously, he isn't my favorite High Renaissance artist, but he certainly deserves our esteem.

Since I'm a bit pressed for time tonight, let's just take a moment to appreciate his most famous work, La Gioconda. She makes me smile. ;-)

Truth Is Beauty; Beauty Is Truth

Detail of the Transfiguration (1520) by Raphael

The precise date of Raphael's birth is not certain, but April 6, 1483, is one commonly held date. So, let's go with it for our celebration. ;-)

I don't get passionate about Raphael's work, but I am endlessly enchanted by it. Serene beauty rules his aesthetic reality. Gorgeous, young Madonnas, draped in sumptuous fabrics, sitting in an Arcadian landscape, hint of the celestial glory made manifest in earthly form.

Raphael is not my favorite artist, but he places high on the list. His art is the perfection of Renaissance ideals.

Detail of Madonna and Child with Book (1503) by Raphael

In the local collections, only the Norton Simon has a Raphael, the lovely Madonna pictured above. It is always a treat to go see this beauty.

Dreaming as the Days Go By

The Chess Queens (1944) by Muriel Streeter


I recently visited LACMA's exhibit "In Wonderland: The Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists in Mexico and the United States" which was an eye-opening experience. I found it so profound for two reasons. First, the works on display were exceptionally strong, powerful expressions of surrealist aesthetics.

Second, there were many "forgotten masterpieces" on display, works that should have greater prominence and fame; I'm reasonably learned in art history, but there were many awesome pieces that were unfamiliar to me. I can't help but feel that these artists have been neglected by art historians because of gender bias. The fact that some of them were from Latin America or lived there put a double whammy on them, making them beneath the notice of the male-centric Euro-centric art cognoscenti.

So, kudos to LACMA and the Museo de Arte Moderno for putting this show together. It's about time that these treasures got the appreciation that they deserve.

Detail of Celestial Pablum (1958) by Remedios Varo


Although I found the actual layout to be confusing, the exhibit was segmented along a variety of themes that pervade the works of these artists. From the use of games and chance in composing works to the conceptualization of the Self, the exhibit examined topics both philosophical and technical. Yet, it always presented the subject in a coherent and accessible manner, never drifting off into deep Art Theory or Formal Techniques territories.

Los Angeles Art: Opening Night 2012

Culver City Art District: La Cienega/Washington Intersection

The 2012 Los Angeles Art Season started tonight with over thirty openings across the city. No, I didn't run myself ragged checking out each one, but I visited a fair number, enough to leave me wiped out for the night, albeit a very satisfied type of tired. There's nothing as fulfilling as fine art.

I've even somewhat updated my LA Art Guide page.

And it's a good thing that we have a "Wolf Moon" on the rise. I can feel its mystic powers strengthening my spirit, readying me to write a whole bunch of art posts for you all. ;-)

Three Wolf Moon by Antonia Neshev

Aaaarrrroooo!!!!!

Interior of a Dutch World

Detail of Woman Drinking with Soldiers (1658) by Pieter de Hooch


I love paintings from the Dutch Golden Age. Although Vermeer is my favorite, I often feel that Pieter de Hooch comes in second. It's the intimacy of the interior genre scene, a humanizing image, that captures my enthusiasm, pulling my imagination back in time to life in the 17th century.

Pieter de Hooch's work has an undeniable beauty, a lustre, that entrances the eye with subtle plays of light, delineations of space, colors both muted and bright. And the narrative of the image is perhaps the thing that I adore most. His paintings are frozen instances of a tale, as if caught in amber, making the viewer consider the activity which is taking place and that which may arise from this moment.

Courtyard of a House in Delft (1658) by Pieter de Hooch

Back in 1996, I once assigned myself a writing practice: for a month, look at a new de Hooch each day and outline a story inspired by it. Nothing ever came of it, but it was a fun and challenging experiment. Maybe I'll try it again some day.

Art and the Transience of Youth

Sarah Barrett Moulton: "Pinkie" (1794) by Thomas Lawrence

I went to the Huntington Museum and Gardens yesterday. I love strolling through the rococo galleries, admiring the gardens, or browsing the library collection. There is so much to do at the Huntington that it really needs multiple days to fully appreciate. The venue itself is huge, with the gardens covering over 120 acres.

Yet, there is a subtle sense of sadness at this museum. It feels so strongly of a bygone era, especially the British portraiture from the 18th century. Even the architecture and the gardens, although gorgeous, have this feel of transience. It is as though the entire venue of one enormous memento mori.

Rudbeckia hirta "Denver Daisy" at the Huntington Botanical Gardens

But the Huntington is filled with amazingly beautiful artwork and flowers. It's probably the "prettiest" of the five "great" Los Angeles museums.

Tiger, Boar, Monkey, and Frog

Netsuke: Tiger by Matsushita Otoman


Just a quick post today. I've been meaning to write about the excellent collection of netsuke at LACMA for the past few weeks, but time slips away. And I've been writing a whole lot about LACMA over the past month, what with the Tim Burton exhibit, the Ai Weiwei Zodiac Heads, and the Jeff Koons sculptures. I kind of feel bad spamming the museum photos.

But I'm pressed for time today and the netsuke deserves some blog love. ;-)

So, here are a few of my favorites on display from the Bushell Collection at LACMA's Japanese Pavillion.

Netsuke: Wild Boar Rooting



Seeking the Sublime

Detail of Man and Woman Contemplating the Moon (1830-35) by Caspar David Friedrich

I always have a tough time listing my favorite anything, from book to movie to song. This is also true in choosing my favorite painters. However, I'm certain the Caspar David Friedrich consistently makes the top five. Friedrich was born on this date in 1774, so let's take the opportunity to appreciate his unique genius.

I feel that his style is the definitive look to Romanticism, especially as regards contemplation of the Sublime. Moreover, his muted colors and overwhelming spaces creates that sense of loneliness or insignificance that characterizes the later Gothic aesthetic. Additionally, his focus on death and transience works as a critique of materialism and the "heroic arrogance" of classicism and neo-classicism.

In Friedrich's world, the sublime grandeur of Nature reduces human accomplishment and material ambition to inconsequential ruins. It's a profoundly terrifying view that has influenced Western aesthetics up to the contemporary era.


Detail of Wanderer above the Sea of Fog (1818) by Caspar David Friedrich


So what can humanity do? Contemplate the awesome spiritual immensity of the Sublime.

Rejection of Rococo

Detail from The Coronation of Napoleon (1806) by Jacques-Louis David

Today marks the birth date of Jacques-Louis David, born in 1748. David came into prominence during the Revolutionary era of France and remained a vital artistic influence throughout the Napoleonic era. He painted in a Neoclassical style, with a sculptural severity that rejected the flowing elegance and opulence of the Rococo style of his predecessors.

I'm not a fan of his works. The style feels stiff and excessively dramatic with propagandist overtones. But they are powerful paintings with excellent technique and engaging narrative composition. Moreover, these works absolutely must be seen in person to be fully appreciated. Their sculptural design may look clunky in a picture book or webpage, but this illusionist use of perspective and modelling makes for a commanding and monumental pictorial space when viewed on site.


Self Portrait of the Artist (1794) by Jacques-Louis David


So, although I'm not an enthusiast, I certainly admire David's artworks.

Beauty and the Bones

Scrimshaw of a Whaling Scene (detail) by J. Cocke

I recently visited the Bowers Museum in Santa Ana. The art venues deep into Orange County are not in my normal orbit of activity, but I will make the occasional art foray into the South. I wanted to check out their scrimshaw exhibit. That's not something that gets put on display very frequently. It was a nice modest collection.

Then I checked out the "Spirits and Headhunters: Art of the Pacific Islands" show. Obviously, any show that covers such a wildly diverse area is going to be broad and thin in overall presentation, but this show packed in the quality. It succeeded both in giving an overarching survey and in displaying objects of notable cultural potency.



Spirit Mask, Papua New Guinea


Likewise the "Ancient Arts of China: A 5000 Year Legacy" was broad and thin. It had some gorgeous works, but, given the topic, I'd have like to see more. Of course, while my aesthetic desires are limited only by my imagination, the Bowers has expense and display space to consider. Given those limitations, it's a good collection. ;-)

Stile Floreal

Detail of Poetry (1898) by Alphonse Mucha

On this day in 1860, the Art Nouveau master, Alphonse Mucha, was born. If you've been a frequent reader of this blog, then you know that I admire his works. I'll take any excuse to post one of his images on my blog. And his birth date is the perfect excuse!

So, here are my top three Mucha images. (Caveat: they are my top three right now. I might have another top three tomorrow. LOL!)

Number One, is the image above, Poetry. It's the first Mucha that I remember noticing and appreciating. In college, I would often walk by a reproduction of the image on the hallway wall of my dorm. So, she feels like an old friend.

Number Two is:



Reverie (1897) by Alphonse Mucha


Reverie embodies that daydream quality. The composition is gentle and captivating, like a sweet thoughtful pause on a hectic afternoon. I love her.

Those Wacky Whirligigs

Hello, Girls (1964) by Alexander Calder

I'm a bit surprised and amused that Google decided to dedicate their doodle to celebrating the 113th birth date of the sculptor Alexander Calder. He's not exactly a household name nor was he an incredible innovator that decidedly improved the human condition nor was his work accepted into mainstream popular culture. But, if Pac-Man can get a Google nod, then why can't Calder?

Personally. my feelings about Calder have gone from scorn to light-hearted acceptance. When I was in college, I would walk past Calder's Gallows and Lollipops on a nearly daily basis. I freakin' hated it! It was a garish eyesore! However, looking back at my animosity, I realize that my dislike for the work was how it stood out from its surroundings, not any intrinsic quality. It's actually an interesting work of art.



Gallows and Lollipops (1960) by Alexander Calder


I've seen many other Calder pieces at numerous museums over the years, but my feelings towards him changed relatively recently. I was hanging out in the LACMA sculpture garden with a friend, sitting by Hello, Girls. The day was mild and pleasant. I was in a laid back mood. And I took notice of the complex and enchanting movements of the sculpture, reflecting in the water and framed by palm trees above. It was a surprisingly beautiful moment, kind of transcendent.

The Virtue of Temperance

Woman with a Lute (c. 1663) by Johannes Vermeer

From July 8 to September 26, the Norton Simon Museum will be exhibiting Vermeer's Woman with a Lute. This painting is on loan from the Metropolitan Museum and is making its first showing on the West Coast. It is one of Vermeer's "Pearl Pictures" catching a moment frozen in time, luminescent and dream-like.

Vermeer is probably my favorite painter. When the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC had their amazingly comprehensive exhibit back in late '95, I actually took some vacation time and flew out to attend the opening week. It was so very worth the effort and expense. I know that I write this a lot in these posts, but no reproduction can do these painting justice. The layers of glaze and diluted saturated pigments that Vermeer uses captures the light within the paintings. It is as if they have an inner glow.

Of course, I had to attend the opening display of this painting on Thursday night. Yeah, I braved the crowd of over 500 fellow art enthusiasts and rush hour traffic on the Pasadena Freeway to do so, but I would have spent the night in regrets if I didn't. ;-)



Reception in the Garden



Reception in the Entry Hall


I can write all day about the glories of Vermeer's paintings. Over the next few months, I'll be visiting the Norton Simon to view this painting many times. Perhaps I'll write a series of posts on Vermeer and why I so adore his works. Perhaps. . .

What A Woman Can Do

Detail of Judith Slaying Holofernes (c. 1620) by Artemisia Gentileschi

On this date in 1593, Artemisia Gentileschi was born.

She is one of my favorite painters of the Baroque era. The dramatic realism and intense contrast of shadow and light are filled with intense emotion. Fear, rage, horror, confusion and pain are expressed with an unflinching visceral honesty. Many of her peers of the Italian Baroque adhere to an interesting but artificial mannerism, even Caravaggio gets occasionally caught up in the stylistics. Artemisia works within the same tradition, but maintains a powerful sense of authenticity throughout her career.

Sadly, there is a well-intentioned but misguided reductionist interpretation of her works that dominates both public and academic analysis. As a teen, Artemisia was raped by her tutor and, when pressing charges against her assailant, she was subjected to torture by thumbscrews as a part of her testimony. Obviously, such an experience is going to have a profound effect upon her psychological state, which will then be expressed through her art.

It is true that many of her paintings focus on themes relating to sexual victimization and powerful women. But she has many works that don't deal with such themes. To reduce her creative aesthetic to this "one note" thematic expression is a needless reduction. I feel it is better to study Artemisia just as one would any great artist of the Italian Baroque and then focus on the gender related themes. To do otherwise is to reduce her to a proto-feminist icon.



Lot and His Daughters (c. 1640s) by Artemisia Gentileschi


As a comparison, would we limit our appreciation of Raphael to his "Madonna and Child" works? Is the study of Andy Warhol limited to his "Campbell Soup" works? Do we limit our Rembrandt studies to his self-portraits?

Summer Has Arrived

Summer (1909) by Frank W. Benson

Woo hoo!!! My favorite season is upon us! Summer, a time of warmth and long days. . .

Of course, here, in the Los Angeles South Bay area, the sky is dark and grey. The standard "June Gloom" casts a shadow upon the land. It's chilly at the beach and the clouds obscure the sun setting into the Pacific.

But soon the marine layer will lift. The sky will be bright and blue. The birdsongs will fill the morning air. The bright flowers will in full bloom. You all know how much I enjoy visiting the various local botanical gardens and nature preserves to look at the birds and flora. Well, this is the best time of year for such activities!

And there's the beach! Woo hoo!!!



Summer (1896) by Alphonse Mucha


It is often said that there are no seasons in Los Angeles. That is false.

Gala of the Grotesque

Untitled #2 (2011) by Scott Radke

"Burlap" is the title of an exhibit at Thinkspace Gallery, featuring the mixed media sculptures of Scott Radke. It's an interesting show but a bit difficult to accurately describe. The problem lies in the nature of the art works themselves. They have a shifting narrative premise based upon their current environment. To a degree, these are not self-contained sculptures, but focal points to an improvised installation artwork.

The show consists of a series of sculptures and some photographs of these pieces, generally within a evocative setting. The sculptures are of chimerical figures of a "fairy tale" nature. They are gnome-like fey creatures. Some are humanoid in their general appearance, but others are animals or flowers with gnomish faces. The majority of them are covered in a dark sackcloth material either as clothing or skin. It is from this rich material that the show derives it name, "Burlap".

I really enjoyed looking at them. Each piece had a distinct "personality" and expressive presence. The craftsmanship of their design was excellent. These chimerical figures really captured my imagination.



Bird #5 (2011) by Scott Radke


And it's in the imaginative engagement that the pieces become especially noteworthy.

The Body Never Lies

Insouciance (2011) by Robert L. Schultz

The Koplin Del Rio Gallery in Culver City currently has an exhibit of drawings by Robert L. Schultz. Of the 15 works on display, most of them are graphite on paper. And all of them are figure pieces, devoid of color. Yeah, that doesn't sound too exciting, but I really enjoyed the show. These works are exquisitely detailed with subtle gradations of value. This creates a physicality to the figures, with texture, contour, and depth. The images project a compelling material presence.

There really isn't a coherent theme to the show. Three pieces are standard nudes. Three are of luchadores. Four are of a female model. Three are of a male model with short hair. Two are of a male model with notable tattoos. The only commonality to these works is the aforementioned sense of physical authenticity. These figures look like you can reach into the drawing and touch them.



Woven Rug (2009) by Robert L. Schultz


But there is more to these drawings than mere material illusionism.

Under the Moons of Mars

Bellona by Nicholas Kahn and Richard Selesnick

I have long been a fan of planetary romances. The idea of ancient alien civilizations upon distant planets has captured my imagination. I've often considered writing within the genre, but I worry that I'd end up writing some imitative tripe, a Barsoom rip-off. To a degree, the entire subgenre can be described as a reiteration upon the themes that Edgar Rice Burroughs set forth in the novel A Princess of Mars.

A good planetary romance explores the concept of "civilization" by constructing alien societies and assessing them through a narrative with which the reader can closely identify. So ideas, such as decadence, patriotism, isolationism or exploitation, are integral elements of the subgenre. Yet, while these ideas play across the narrative, it is under an atmospheric mood of loneliness and yearning. The narrator is a "stranger in a strange land".

And it is the ability to capture this mood that I find so compelling in the Kopeikin Gallery's exhibit "Mars: Adrift on the Hourglass Sea. Desolation and the Sublime on a Distant Planet" by Nicholas Kahn and Richard Selesnick.



Earthrise by Nicholas Kahn and Richard Selesnick