Lab #7 - Artists are eccentric

One of Edouard Manet's more famous and controversial paintings was called Le déjeuner sur l'herbe or The Lunch on the Grass.  
There is quite a large amount of information about this painting including words by Manet himself and an early, smaller version.  Within the past year a letter has surfaced from a donor who chooses to remain anonymous.  The letter is from Suzanne Leenhoff who was Manet's wife and provided the body for the nude in the painting, addressed to Edouard Manet himself.  

Dear Edouard,

I find myself at a crossroad at this moment.  I would like to start off by saying that the time we spend together is always cherished.  I find myself in awe of your abilities with the paintbrush and am always proud to tell people that I am about to marry Edouard Manet.  It's for these reasons that I feel it necessary to discuss something that has been on my mind since last weekend.
Now you know that I have always loved our evenings outside amongst nature.  And I remember telling you early on in the relationship that I would always assist you in whatever you needed me to do in order to do your work.  And, Edouard, you cannot say that I have not lived up to this.  But, from now on I want to set some guidelines down so that there is no confusion from this point on.

1.  You have always told me how beautiful you think I am and I have always believed you, but in this last painting, you chose to incorporate every one of my physical features except for my face.  I don't always know exactly what you are wanting to accomplish with your work, but from now on I refuse to take part in it unless you want to use all of me.

2.  Let me know before I pose nude if you have already invited my brother and yours.  I'm very surprised this has to be addressed, but I am beginning to learn about the eccentricities of artists.  This guideline is self-explanatory.  Damn creepy.

3.  Lastly, I want to make sure that you are much more familiar with the decency laws of the area before you make plans like that.  Again, I could be as much at fault as you for assuming that when you said, "For this painting, I need you to strip down, Suzanne", you had already done your research.  I know you and your friends have a great time retelling the story of us being escorted off the property, but I don't find it nearly as amusing.

I feel it is important for you to know how I feel about these things before this relationship continues further.  

I love you,

Suzanne

Lab #6 - Abstract Expressionism in High and Low

In 1963 Akira Kurosawa directed Tengoku To Jigoku which was released in the United States as High and Low.  
Criterion summarizes the film thusly: "Toshiro Mifune is unforgettable as Kingo Gondo, a wealthy industrialist whose family becomes the target of a cold-blooded kidnapper in Akira Kurosawa's highly influential High and Low.  Adapting Ed McBain's detective novel King's Ransom, Kurosawa moves effortlessly from compelling race-against-time thriller to exacting social commentary, creating a penetrating portrait of contemporary Japanese society."
Although this synopsis is short, direct, and true to the story of the film (which is the purpose of it), it would be a mistake to assume that that is all the film has to offer.
As a lab assignment in my art history class, my instructor posed the challenge of looking at this film and picking two scenes that have aesthetics clearly influenced by Kurosawa's exposure to Abstract Expressionism.
One thing I know about art is that it does not remain within its own margins.  Music influences film just as film influences music.  So considering that this film was made in 1963, it would mean that Abstract Expressionism had been around for many years before.  Plus, Kurosawa started out as an artist before he was a filmmaker.  So all the components are there and this is some of my discoveries.

This scene is approximately and hour and fifteen minutes into the film.  I love this shot because of different planes colliding all throughout it.  There is balance but little symmetry.  The only problem with this shot is that it didn't look like Abstract Expressionism to me.  I could easily see Cubism or Futurism though.
Then I found some works from the artist Franz Kline.  

Considered an "action painter" amongst others such as Jackson Pollock, he denied any influence in his work to Japanese calligraphy, but I could certainly not fault that assumption.  "Bridges, tunnels, buildings, engines, railroads and other architectural and industrial icons are often suggested as imagery informing Kline's work" (wikipedia.com).
The next frame occurs close to the end of the film.

This extreme close up of flowers seem to place focus less on the flowers but more on the chaos of the vines taking up the entire frame.  This immediately brought to mind the works of Jackson Pollock.

Many people have noted the feeling of being in a dense forest when they look at some Pollock paintings.  This might be a coincidence to the frame in High and Low.  It appears what both images shows is a confusion and complexity wherein no singular point is the focus.  The entire frame is.  
Geoffrey O'Brien wrote an essay about High and Low in which he states, "The exceptional visual density of High and Low involves a double perception:  every frame can be apprehended in terms both of the weightless, two-dimensional surface of a delicately composed painting and of the three-dimensional arena in which heavy bodies move and contend with reckless energy."
I struggle with Abstract Expressionism sometimes, but I do ask myself if O'Brien's statement not only defines the film but certainly many concepts of the art movement.

Lab #4 - Perfect boredom

Dictionary.com defines symmetry as "the correspondence in size, form, and arrangement of parts on opposite sides of a plane, line, or point; regularity of form or arrangement in terms of like, reciprocal, or corresponding parts".  Throughout history symmetry has been correlated to beauty.  The modern folk who analyze physical beauty say that the more symmetrical a person's face is, the more attractive they are.  Some of these people argue that we, as human beings, are hard-wired this way.
Conversely, anything asymmetrical should be less attractive or downright ugly.  It is debatable whether this is true (and personally I don't agree), but in the world of art how has these concepts, "symmetry" and "asymmetry", been handled? 
First I want to look at Leonardo Da Vinci's Vetruvian Man.
This image is most commonly used as the embodiment of health and fitness, and seen quite a lot in the medical community.  Da Vinci sketched this as an accompaniment to his technique and also as a scientific study showing the human body as having symmetrical proportions that create an overall harmony.


Next I wanted to examine the Chartres Cathedral.  To glance quickly at this marvelous piece of architecture, one might see it as a very symmetrical cathedral.  In fact, at closer examination, it is apparent that the west spires are mismatched.  All that I could find out about this was the south spire is a 349-foot plain Romanesque pyramid dating from the 1140s, while the north is a 377-foot early 16th-century Flamboyant Gothic spire on top of an older tower.  My personal feeling is that this structure with it's combination of symmetry/asymmetry creates a much more interesting product that beckons me to study it more.

This is Mark Rothko's Magenta, Black, Green on Orange (1947) and is another example of symmetry vs. asymmetry.  In the book Mark Rothko by James E. B. Breslin, Tom Hess from Art News is quoted calling one of his shows "'one of the most enjoyable' in several years, declared that it established 'international importance of Rothko as a leader of postwar modern art,' and commended his creation of a 'elementary serenity of symmetry in a way that avoids the paralyzing boredom perfect symmetry aspires to'"  This notion of "perfect symmetry" versus "imperfect symmetry" is an interesting way to look at it.  Maybe the greater the degree of asymmetry, the lesser the degree of comfort.

Next we have a painting by Jackson Pollock titled Number One (1948).  In John Haber's essay The Last Dance he speaks of the experience of a Pollock painting saying, "...paint takes over its shallow space. It gets denser, a painting's symmetry gets more obvious, and the technique gets varied and absorbing. A physicist has actually quantified the symmetry, not implausibly, with fractal geometry. When Pollock calls a painting Simmering Substance, one sees the heat but feels a refreshing cool."  My highly limited understanding of fractal geometry explains that if you took an irregular shape and split it in half, each half would be a smaller copy of the larger.  I guess this gives symmetry to the asymmetrical but I find a Jackson Pollock symmetrical just because no one splatter or brush stroke stands out making none of them more important than the other and further the frame provides the symmetrical borders.

Finally I would like to show the album cover from Akron/Family's self-titled album.  Unfortunately I don't physically own the album yet, and absolutely cannot find who the artist is that created the cover.  Again there is a strong symmetry, but certainly not "perfect symmetry".  It seems to me that there are two categories that define symmetry.  The first is the term "perfect symmetry" which allows the viewer to draw an imaginary line through the art and have a mirror image on each side.  The next would have to be a scale where on one side is symmetry and on the other side asymmetry.  I think this is far more interesting because you can create something uncomfortably asymmetrical or something highly symmetrical but not completely, and the result should always be more appealing than the perfection and boredom of "perfect symmetry".