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.
Posted: Monday, July 1, 2013
Shhhh! The dresses in the D.I.Y.: Hardware gallery in PUNK: Chaos to Couture are punk undercover. In contrast to the more obviously punk shirts, pants, trash-bag dresses, and tie-dye ball gowns in the rest of the exhibition, these clothes are not necessarily meant to be punk. It is obvious, however, that they are indeed influenced by punk style.
Posted: Friday, June 21, 2013
The punk aesthetic of the 1970s, its underground survival throughout the 1980s, and its high-fashion revival in the 1990s have profoundly shaped what it means to be a rebellious youth. To be punk means to express one's disillusionment with the status quo and to challenge it.
Posted: Thursday, June 13, 2013
When I walked into the Metropolitan Museum's PUNK: Chaos to Couture exhibition, I was not expecting big-name designers. Punk was supposedly a movement for nobody and nothing, wasn’t it? However, upon walking into the exhibition's catacomb of glorified dissension, replete with pieces from Galliano, Dolce and Gabbana, and Prada, I soon realized that the designer clothes on display are a testament to punk's power. I didn't used to associate names like Versace and Dior with crusty-shirted tribalism and deconstructionism, but punk has so changed the landscape for artistic expression that Givenchy and Johnny Rotten can now coexist happily in the same place.
Posted: Monday, June 3, 2013
Impressionist paintings are so beautiful, emotional, and colorful, yet in the nineteenth century, they were considered laughable; at the time, people favored meticulously realistic, "licked" paintings over the Impressionists' "broken brushstrokes." The term "licked" refers to paintings that shine like someone has licked them to even out any trace of brushstrokes, and "broken brushstrokes" refers to thick dabs of paint on a canvas.
Posted: Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Okay, now don't get me wrong. While I'm sort of presenting the following ideas as fact, I don't claim to know much about painting or anything about Impressionism, but I am completely fascinated with the movement—actually head over heels infatuated. I want more than anything to understand how it works, so please forgive the following inelegant suppositions as the workings of a mind tussling with understanding.
Posted: Wednesday, May 22, 2013
It's been a long day. You've been knocked around a couple of times. You sit down, and your eyes slowly begin to close. It's time to breathe a sigh of relief, take a break, and transport yourself to a different, more peaceful place. Two works by the Impressionist painter Claude Monet (1840–1926) allow you to do just that.