Posted: Tuesday, November 12, 2013
The panels on view in the exhibition Feathered Walls: Hangings from Ancient Peru were created by the Wari peoples of southern Peru. Their makers hand-knotted blue and yellow macaw feathers one by one onto cotton and camelid hair using slipped overhand knots. The strings of feathers were then sewn in horizontal rows onto large cotton panels.
Posted: Thursday, October 31, 2013
Many questions surround the beautiful feather panels, created between about 600 and 1000 by the Wari peoples of Peru, that are currently on view in the exhibition Feathered Walls: Hangings from Ancient Peru. The simplistic juxtapositions of color and painstaking care put into them tantalize the mind and make one wonder what purpose the panels served.
Posted: Thursday, October 24, 2013
As a preface, I would just like to ask that you not take my excitement about the work above to be some kind of authoritative perspective on it—in other words, that you'll visit the Museum, see this piece and have a great, transcendent epiphany with the swelling baritone of a hallelujah chorus behind you. Perhaps it's just me being overzealous and getting unnecessarily pumped up about something as usual. But, for a second, let's be indulgent and allow me to express how this piece requires you to reconfigure your mind, and just how weird and interesting it is. Let's break it down for a second, shall we?
Posted: Thursday, August 15, 2013
What happened here? Did someone spill paint on these tiles? Is this supposed to be blood? Is there blood all over the roof of the Metropolitan Museum of Art?!
Posted: Thursday, August 8, 2013
Upon first seeing Imran Qureshi's installation on the Museum's roof garden, I was immediately struck by how effectively it subverts one's expectations. Along with the rest of the Teen Advisory Group, I was simply informed that we would be visiting a "rooftop installation," which immediately brought to mind the kind of monolithic modernist sculpture that seems to be increasingly ubiquitous in outdoor art installations these days. Surprisingly, though, we were greeted with something much more subtle and thought-provoking.
Posted: Thursday, August 1, 2013
Sudden violence in the United States, especially when unpredictable, triggers an immediate and mass reaction. This is hardly so in the case of Pakistan, however, a country where violence is the norm and not the exception. At the Museum's roof garden this summer, contemporary Pakistani artist Imran Qureshi challenges American viewers to immerse themselves in the bloodbath of civilians killed in sectarian conflicts far away from our own shores.
Posted: Friday, July 26, 2013
Imran Qureshi's installation on the Met's roof is abrupt. Looking across the roof, one is confronted by something of a geological layering. In the foreground, violence and bloodshed come to mind, and behind, the Met's stone superstructure separates you from the immediacy of Central Park's seemingly dense forests. Looking down at your feet, your confidence is partially shattered by the realization that you are walking on paint. Instinctively, my feet searched for an oasis of untainted stone.
Posted: Friday, July 19, 2013
The Iris and B. Gerald Cantor Roof Garden at the Metropolitan Museum is a magnificent place to exhibit art high above Central Park. You have the warm sun, the sounds of nature, the clear blue sky, the green foliage, and a breathtaking view of the concrete jungle around you. Walking out onto the roof recently, I expected to see an immense sculpture. Instead, I was greeted by Pakistani artist Imran Qureshi's painted installation.
Posted: Friday, July 12, 2013
I learned from visiting PUNK: Chaos to Couture that punk was an ironic movement and that its irony has contributed to its staying power. When punk started in the mid-1970s, it was dealing with a social landscape that had lost sight of its goals. The hippies said they wanted a revolution, but changing the world is not a passive exercise. That's where the punks came in.
Posted: Friday, July 5, 2013
In my drawing at left, I wanted to create a visual response of sorts to what I saw in PUNK: Chaos to Couture, namely the D.I.Y.: Hardware gallery.