Stairways, Multilevel

Stairways in the West Pavilion at the Getty Center

Yeah, I'm still admiring various staircases around town.

It's been a while since I shared an image of one with you. So, here's a photo of the interior stairs at the Getty Center's West Pavilion, which switches back and forth, elegantly curving along the contour of the wall for three levels, going from the Impressionist paintings at the top to the photography exhibits at the bottom, passing by the decorative arts in the middle. ;-)

Enjoy!!!

Empty Seats in a Tram

Tram at the Getty Center

Enjoy!!!

Muses Work All Day Long. . .

Detail of Dancer Taking a Bow (The Star) (1877) by Edgar Degas

". . . And then at night get together and dance."

That's one of my favorite quotes about the Arts. It's especially appropriate for today, on the birth date of Edgar Degas, born in 1834, one of my favorite Impressionists. No other artist has captured the beauty and grace of dancing as well.

It's all about motion and the transience of the moment. The way in which the figures are positioned, the flashes of color, the evocation of space, these elements create a visual rhythm that carries the eye across the canvas, as if, through the act of seeing, the viewer is a participant in the dance itself.

The Tub (1888) by Edgar Degas


It's a lyrical vision that can also be seen in his sculptural works. Even something as placid as taking a bath becomes a study in motion, a languid twist and stretch, with a natural grace and an inviting poise.

Love for Landscapes

View of the Pacific Ocean from the Getty Villa in Malibu

When I started this blog, I was taking photos of buildings or art works or landscapes merely to provide an interesting view to go alongside my writing. My view of photography was that it was simply an accompaniment, a decoration. Moreover, I see myself more as a writer than as a photographer.

Fifteen months later, I've taken thousands of photos. And I'm starting to really get into it. I'm no longer looking for images that will complement, but, rather, images that will command. Now, I've got a whole lot to learn about taking pictures before I can call myself a "photographer" but I feel like I'm on the right path, perceiving the pictorial potentialities in my environment.

I figured that I would share a few landscape photos that I've taken over the past month. Yeah, they're not fine art, but I'm fond of them. ;-)

Afternoon view of Los Angeles county from Rocketship Park in Torrance

I'm looking forward to developing my technique. In a world so rich with beautiful and interesting sights, it seems a shame to let such images pass by unrecorded, left to fade away in the viewer's memory. Hopefully, I can capture some of these lovely visions, saving them here at Paideia to be appreciated by all those random "web surfers" that find their way to this humble blog.

Pacific Standard Time: Update #7

Pacific Standard Time Logo

It's been over a month since my last update, but that doesn't mean that I haven't been chasing down PST events. ;-)

We're halfway through the event's run, with many shows closing, but new exhibits opening. I went to give a farewell view to some of my favorite shows, such as the Hammer's Now Dig This! exhibition on LA's African-American art scene. As I was giving a final viewing to some of these artworks, melancholy came over me. So many of these works are hidden away in museum vaults or in private collections, I don't know if or when I'll be able to see them again.

For example, Ed Kienholz's Five Car Stud was created about 40 years ago, but has hardly ever been on view. What are the chances that I'll get to see it again? Likewise, all the lesser known minority artists rarely get shown. I know that one of the purposes behind the PST event is to alter the situation, to reveal the hidden treasures of the early LA art scene, but changing the established bias in the understanding of modern American art is a long-term project.

Although a strong counter-narrative is being proposed, such a fixed "history" is hard to shake, especially as many East Coast experts have so much invested in the current narrative.

Detail of Booster (1967) by Robert Rauschenberg

In any case, it's been fun and enlightening. I finally got to see the show at the Getty, which was awesome! I even got to attend a short talk on George Herms' assemblage piece, The Librarian. At another visit to the Norton Simon Museum, I attended a "spotlight" talk on John Baldessari's Fallen Easel. Likewise, the Hammer featured Maren Hassinger's River. I definitely appreciate these focus talks, brief though they may be, which enable me to benefit from the expertise of the curatorial staff in developing a deeper appreciation of the works under review.

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.