Skeletons, MegaShoulders, and Moody Stares at Detroit Institute of Art

We woke up to snowfall this morning. "I WILL NEED MY SNOW BOOTS!" our child exclaimed, as she lifted the deck curtain and saw the thinnest dusting on the leaf piles mouldering on our deck. I scooted her along, for today was special: her first FULL day of preschool and I was determined for us both to get as much out of it as possible. Now we are in the last few minutes of the day before I re-enter rush hour, but I find it's better to start something, even if in the very tiniest way. So, here we are. With the cold and with the cloudy, I need more museum time. I have resolved that I will actually honor this need consistently, going forward. So after a morning appointment, I was on the road to the D.I.A.

In some ways, the visit served to remind me of things I already knew.

1. I tend to love a good Parisian bar/cafe scene. The men are smoking, the women are bored, the female attire tends toward the constrictive and frou frou/confectionary.

detail of Cafe Scene in Paris (1877), Henri Gervex

Here we have the mysterious right edge, which seems to be rejected underpainting, but why was it framed to show it? The docent didn't have an answer, but thought it maybe reflected the artist's wish, "It's *part* of the painting," but I have trouble buying that.

So many things to love: the veins perfectly visible in this man's hand, the glowing cigar tips, liquid light in the glasses, the satin gloss of fabric and ribbons, the individual pools of isolation.

Painter inclusion: Gervex lighting his pipe

Visit full image here.

2. Portraiture: Degas beats out Renoir
My lack of affinity for Renoir nudes was brought home to me when I attended a solo exhibit in Philly years ago, but in this "Humble and Human" exhibit I was faced (hah) with a Renoir portrait next to a Degas. 

Woman in an Armchair (1874), Renoir

Portrait of a Woman (1877), Degas

I like that Renoir's woman seems to have some kind of interior life, but there's still too much peaches-and-cream to the skin. Degas' portrait draws me in so much more, though what can we really tell about her? She is half in darkness, the shadows render her face almost sooty and the coloring is splashy, on the darker end. I love the richness of the color, the strange brightness and sudden detail of the flowers inexplicably behind and above her. Somehow I believe in a richer interior life for this sitter, and a more storied life. Perhaps the clothing plays into it.  I'm not bothered by the artfully drooping chemise, but it does play up the appeal of the subject -- and positions her appeal at the forefront.  So I guess I'd offer the Renoir woman a cardigan (she'd probably ignore me, sigh loudly, or insist she was fine without) and ask the Degas sitter if she'd like some tea or something stronger, and see if I could draw out some stories.

3. I still don't care about Seurat or Pissarro. What else to say? They are not hurt for my lack of care.

Portrait of Postman Roulin (1877) Van Gogh

4. I love any of Van Gogh's paintings of the Postman Joseph Roulin. I don't think I can unpack it more than this, because what I like about it is what I -- and most people I think-- like about his work -- the heavy, energizing paint strokes, the vibrant colors, representations that are realistic enough to make us believe, but which then take us beyond, into a different realm.

Delicious hand-painted frame

And ALSO (one of my 4 yo.'s favorite phrases, currently): "You watch any Sponge Bob Square Pants lately? Because he's on there," The security guard gestures to Roulin. "On an episode. They have him mouthing, 'Sponge Bob Square Pants! Sponge Bob Square Pants! ' It's pretty funny...I spend a lot of time in here" With that, the guard recedes back to the far wall. And so it goes.














5. The annual Ofrendas exhibit is always worth a visit. And this exhibit is gaining in popularity! It used to only last 3 days and now they keep it up for almost a couple weeks -- closes on November 10th. This year brought several ofrendas honoring migrants, or those who have lost their lives attempting to get here.

"Desconcido" by Joanne Coutts was especially cohesive in its vision of three migrants traversing the desert. The description card reported 1,237 migrant deaths have been recorded in Arizona since 2011.

 

 

Refugee Ancestors: Descendants United in Friendship

Note the train tracks: a little train rounds the tracks, with engine and cars labeled "A Better Life," "Oportunidad," and "Safety."

 

Touching tribute to Dr. Christopher Pfaendtner, who died at 60

Christopher: the Healer,  by Patricia Pfaendtner

****Unexpected Bonus****

Gentleman, Possibly of the Trivulzio Family, late 1400s

I have passed this by for years. Exceptional artistry by Bernardino dei Conti, yes (if, indeed it's by him). European paintings of privileged white men, yawn. But, wait~~! It stopped me in my tracks today. Why does it feel so modern, so fresh? I envisioned it in my vaulted cieling-ed, glass and metal skyscraper flat, himself surveying a future domain from one very white wall. New sharp frame minimal enough for him to step out beyond it.


I love his eye sockets and nose, the set of his mouth. The ridiculous out-sized shoulders and heraldic red & gold of his...tunic? What was that even called? The delicate folds of white against his skin. The gentleman's gloves which looked suitable for hawk landings, though this is probably far from true. I love that the background is so heavily painted and textured it takes on a different sheen than the rest of it. And more than all of it, I love how indifference can morph into delight, with repeated exposure to any art, how resonance ebbs and flows, highlighting the variability of our being.

   

It's About That Time

Every clock in the house tells a different time. The retro brick red clock above the sink is just hard enough to reach that I didn't drag a stool over promptly when it stopped; initially it provided a point for internal criticism, and then, minor shame when people happened through and remarked upon it. Somehow none of it penetrated enough for me to actually change it; and now, when I come in the kitchen side door, I still glance up, only to confirm the reading through its bubble face: Oh yes, twelve minutes to eleven. Right. The other ones are cagier; I know that they run slow, for their own mysterious reasons; and I tend to them periodically, when the slippage grows too glaring. But still: why? And why bother, when you have your cellphone, right? The cause of myriad tanned wrists and cast aside watchmakers everywhere. The cellphone which briefly glows bright around 2 or 3 AM, as it disconcertingly connects with its Mothership. Unfortunate when you forget to turn it face down and are sleeping fitfully.

If my house is a time warp zone, my internal clockworks -- and by extension my calendar time -- is likewise experiencing disconnects. To wit: some part of my brain has kicked into the Reckoning Overdrive that normally bombards one during New Year's Eve/Birthday times. WHAT is the import of your life? WHAT, the measure of your years? WHY fritter away time on imaginary TV characters and every other silly filler item, when there are things you could grasp, things to be made, achievements to check off? But really, if all you wish to do is check the box for a task done, was that a worthy marker in the first place? And to cap it off, if all one does is bat the ideas back and forth, that amounts to less than nothing, as one is aware of unused potential, but has not GONE FORTH. The armchair traveler will remain ever safer than the actual traveler. I'm sure the murkiness of this paragraph has already clued you into the fact that I clearly don't have a plan. 

Right now -- today -- Saturday -- I'm opting for the "big changes happen in small steps" school of thought. Maybe I'm letting myself off easy. But today's phrase is: more organization, in service of freer creativity. Incongruous? I sat down to blog a few hours ago. It has been a long time, and so I thought, well maybe a photo based post: not too much, just Short and Sweet.*

*HAH! you say, if you know me. AS IF. I know, I know, but this is frequently my intention, believe it not. 

But then I found myself wading through the pictures folder. Hundreds of jpegs, very very few ever posted; and more on my camera. Tons of folders with somewhat helpful descriptions. I started to organize. I continued to organize. I could still be doing this. I could still be doing this, come twelve minutes to 11 tonight. Or tomorrow morning. And so many of these images were also meant to fuel or buttress blogging, up to a year ago. I know that many have spurred googly research (what's this muralist doing now? are there videos of this jeweler's unique approach?), the links to which sit waiting in other files. And in this way the vestiges of experience become a weight rather than enrichment/curiosities to share. Who wants it to be this way? Could it really be so easy that building more organizing into the snippet gathering could allow me to focus on what I want to? In past months, it has been suggested that structure is not my strong suit. Especially for those of us who do not naturally lock into grid formation, it is essential to better develop habits to counteract our meandering natures, without quashing them.

And now it is twelve to 11, or 2:57/2:59/3:00/3:01. I had intended to be at the DIA by now, not for any specific exhibit but because I have NOT BEEN THERE ALL SUMMER, which is a most unfortunate first. And lordy, lordy, lordy, the prospect of the emergency manager's potential shortsightedness of AUCTIONING OFF Detroit's art museum is too much for me to wrap my head around (Unfamiliar with the peril facing the Detroit Art Museum? Check out Rachel Maddow's take on it, and on emergency managers in general here). So, off to sneak in a brief visit (along with more picture taking most likely, but they will be folded into useful folders!). And then. all going well, I'll also get to meet Javier there and we'll have a great night out in Detroit, (possibly Shangri-La?? Maybe movies...)

Tomorrow I hope to pay a visit closer to home, at the Univ. of Michigan Art Musuem, for a cool exhibit that's closing Sept. 1st. Last chance, local folks, sounds great!  A paired exhibit of the works of a Japanese American artist and landscape architect, plus Chinese painter, Qi Baishi. I'm almost certain I got to see some of his scrolls at the Shanghai art museum last year. UMMA is open from noon-5 on Sundays.
  
And awayyyyyyy we go!

Fun with Expiration Dates

Happy Wednesday! Looks to be a glorious day out there. Were it not for a headache which has carried over for a few days, t'would be that much more glorious, but. Javier came over last night and helped me set work to the side for a few hours before a night conference call; and now he can be heard stomping around, from this room, to that room, and back again. He is quite happily mobile with his electric razor, so one hears a zzzzzzzzz from the bathroom, to the the kitchen, to the living room.  Zzzzzz, stomp stomp stomp, zzzzzzzz, stomp stomp stomp.

An appearance at the study doorway: "We should drink coffee on your deck, enjoy the sunshine -- well maybe not this morning" and then he is gone, offering a plan and then nixing it, without any fussy need for more input. Luckily his plans often agree with my yet-to-be-formed wishes, so we wind up doing a lot and seeing a lot and sometimes slowing down. Within a few minutes the coffee matter is reconsidered and I am invited to join him on the deck; and then he is off to his morning meeting and I wonder if I can do a wee blog post in ten minutes before showering*...Hmmm. The sun is so treacherous, it feels so healthy and health-giving and yet...

{*No. not even close. why do I always think I can cheat time?}

And yet! Only a couple more days until this next May weekend. Selected for your consideration, a few fine activities that you should catch before they're gone!

1."Hastings Street" -- a play with music, put on by the Mosaic acting troupe, in the Detroit Film Theatre (nestled up against the DIA). I saw the opening last Friday and it was fantastic -- they're polished enough and talented enough to be put head-to-head with adult acting companies. Set in the 40s, in the Black Bottom area of Detroit, which absolutely thrived during the 1940s -- did you realize Duke Ellington played in dance halls here?Check out the photo at The Detroit News and tell me you don't want to go. Second weekend, closes after *this* Sunday! Highly recommended.

2.Circle of Art! -- people have bidding online on artwork for the past month or so -- to simultaneously become art owners AND virtuously donate to Food Gatherers -- But THIS SUNDAY marks the final day -- silent auction for possibly hundreds of pieces, wine,drinks and all manner of delectables outside,bustling, jostling, tons of cool, friendly people who only get cooler as the day draws on. And raffles, usually! Along the lines of Zingerman's, some fabulous cherry things, who-knows-what all tied up in wicker baskets and sealed from troublesome fingers by crackly clear plastic. Possibly you could win a llama, or miniature giraffe or a manatee. WHO KNOWS. You certainly won't, if you don't go. People in the know play their little holding-off games, hovering around pieces to place the final bids on coveted items, moments before the final call (which falls shortly before 5 PM).

Here's where I'd share the link to my first-ever printmaking mobile, but alas, the link doesn't work, so I'll just reshare a recent photo.  Here's the general Circle background-- and here's a tiny sampling -- John Copley, Jan Ruvido Stebbins, Mike Hahn, and OMG check out this lovely pen and ink fox drawing by local highschool junior Vivyan Zheng! See also: Valerie Mann, Mariette Van Buhler, Lynne Yates (Ephemeral Books).  Starting at noon, you can pop in, stay awhile, stay as long as you want! Well, not really. At the end, they're all "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." Which, fine, they have been working long, long hours for the past 6 weeks at least, to bring the grand event to pass. So: this Sunday, noon to 5. Bring a can or two of food for Food Gatherers. Saline.

7641 N. Ann Arbor Street
Saline, MI 48176
(734)429-3352 phone

 3. Van Gogh's Bedroom in Arles has been a distinguished guest at the DIA since February, but you haven't seen it yet, have you? Next weekend, next weekend, next weekend. Silliness. It leaves May 28th: the time draws nigh, people. It's usually in Paris, so not like you'll be crossing paths with it. Unless you have a much cooler life than I do.

4.5. Bonus links: I grow more and more fond of Jimmy Fallon. Here he is, doing a smattering of impressions of other comedians. And this one, ohhh, I love this one! Rufus + Ben Folds, doing a perfect cover. Best to watch a few times.

6. And you thought this was going to be about food poisoning, or old, old Rx's, didn't you? Playing with fire. Salmonella hides in the dents, online friends. Unused commas: so misleading.