Monday, August 16, 2010

satisfaction

Today we visited the lovely Norton Simon Museum. If you get a day to spend there I heartily recommend it, but even a few hours is time well spent.

We were a bit pressed for time, so we had priorities. Vincent for me! They have a collection of seven!
Mulberry Tree, October 1889

Vincent van Gogh 
Dutch, 1853-1890
Oil on canvas
21-1/4 x 25-1/2 in. (54 x 65 cm)
Norton Simon Art Foundation, Gift of Mr. Norton Simon
M.1976.09.P
© 2010 Norton Simon Art Foundation



Rembrandt for my companion. They had a few paintings on display, but the Museum owns an extensive collection of drawings and sketches that aren't on display. Which annoys me to no end.
Self-Portrait, c. 1636-38

Rembrandt van Rijn
Dutch, 1606-1669
Oil on panel
24-7/8 x 19-3/4 in. (63.2 x 50.2 cm)
The Norton Simon Foundation
F.1969.18.P
© 2010 The Norton Simon Foundation



They also have quite a few of Degas' pieces and with which I intensely enjoyed broadening my acquaintance.
After the Bath, c. 1890-93 (dated in error by another hand: 1885)

Edgar Degas
French, 1834-1917
Pastel on tracing paper mounted on cardboard
26 x 20-3/4 in. (66 x 52.7 cm)
The Norton Simon Foundation
F.1975.02.P
© 2010 The Norton Simon Foundation



There were some lovely Corots.
The Cicada, 1865-1875

Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot
French, 1796-1875
Oil on panel
18-1/4 x 14-5/8 in. (46.4 x 37.2 cm)
Norton Simon Art Foundation
M.1975.13.1.P
© 2010 Norton Simon Art Foundation



The museum also has a few pieces by Toulouse-Lautrec. Upon leaving we were presented with a souvenir in the form of a print-- my favorite by this artist in their collection!
At the Cirque Fernando, Rider on a White Horse,1887-1888

Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec
French, 1864-1901
Pastel and drained oil on board
overall: 23-5/8 x 31-1/4 in. (60 x 79.5 cm)
Norton Simon Art Foundation
M.1978.13.2.P
© 2010 Norton Simon Art Foundation


The Getty was undeniably fabulous! If I had a chance to go to one of them again though (always depending on what the current exhibitions are ) I'd jump at the Norton Simon.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

gerome at the getty

I'm currently in California-- Long Beach to be exact-- for two weeks.
Today we went to the Getty to see its collection of Rembrandts and a current Gerome exhibit.

The Black Bard was my favorite. I loved the Middle Eastern trappings and the colors and the tiny details of the yellow leather shoes and cowrie shells on the scabbard. The figure himself is so arresting though. Such beautiful hands and eyes that dared me to ask a story.


The first piece I saw that I fell in love with was The Bacchante. The way her hair and horns match textures is incredible and her lovely facial structure is exotic enough to convince me that she *could* be only mostly human.

Thumbs Down has elements that figure prominently in Gerome's work and make it memorable. His treatment of detail-- nothing goes unnoticed-- his treatment of light with its unexplained shimmerings and gleamings-- and his treatment of jewelry and other adornments-- the armor here is *fantastic*.

His treatment of cloth in all of its textures, weights and colors was also phenomenal.

There's a slide show here of the Getty's exhibition highlights that is worth seeing. And the work is worth seeing in person if you get the chance. His hand was amazingly delicate.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

recommended reading

so, sherry : : the blog

Who knew Sherry Truitt blogged? I suppose I should have.
At any rate, she just published two excellent articles on online advertising and a Pablo Neruda poem-- all quite worth reading.

So get to it!

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Monday, April 5, 2010

letters from vincent XIV

auvers-sur-oise/july 1890
to brother theo and johanna


I should like him to have a soul less unquiet than mine, which is foundering . . .

*

They are vast fields of wheat under troubled skies, and I did not need to go out of my way to express sadness and extreme loneliness.

*

to his mother and wilhelmina

I myself am quite absorbed in the immense plain with wheatfields against the hills, boundless as a sea, delicate yellow, delicate soft green, the delicate violet of a dug-up and weeded piece of soil, chequered at regular intervals with the green of flowering potato plants, everything under a sky of delicate blue, white, pink, violet tones.
I am in a mood of almost too much calmness, in the mood to paint this . . .

*

to brother theo

Daubigny's garden, foreground of grass in green and pink, To the left a green and lilac bush and the stem of a plant with whitish leaves. In the middle a border of roses, to the right a wicket, a wall, and above the wall a hazel tree with violet foliage. Then a lilac hedge, a row of rounded yellow lime trees, the house itself in the background, pink, with a roof of bluish tiles. A bench and three chairs, a figure in black with a yellow hat and in the foreground a black cat. Sky pale green.

letters from vincent XIII

st remy/june-july 1889
to brother theo
Only work absorbs me so much that I think I shall always remain absent-minded abd awkward in shifting for myself . . . 

*

The cypresses are always occupying my thoughts, I should like to make something of them like the canvasses of the sunflowers, because it astonishes me that they have not yet been done as I see them.
It is as beautiful of line and proportion as an Egyptian obelisk.
And the green has a quality of such distinction.
It is a splash of black in a sunny landscape, but it is one of the most interesting black notes, and the most difficult to hit off exactly that I can imagine . . . .
*

During the attacks I feel a coward before the pain and suffering-- more of a coward than I ought to be, and it is perhaps this very moral cowardice which, whereas I had no desire to get better before, makes me eat like two now, work hard, limit my relations with the other patients for fear of a relapse-- altogether I am now trying to recover like a man who meant to commit suicide and, finding the water too cold, tries to regain the bank.

*

october 1889

It is really my opinion more and more, as I said to Isaacson, if you work diligently from nature without saying to yourself beforehand-- 'I want to do this or that', if you work as if you were making a pair of shoes, without artistic preoccupations, you will not always do well, but the days you least expect it, you find a subject which holds its own with the work of those who have gone before. You learn to know a country which is basically quite different from what it appears at first sight.

*

to joseph and mme ginoux

I assure you that last year I almost hated the idea of regaining my health-- of only feeling somewhat better for a shorter or longer time-- always living in fear of relapses-- I almost hated the idea, I tell you-- so little did I feel inclined to begin again. Often I said to myself that I preferred that there be nothing further, that this be the end. Ah, well-- it would seem that we are not the masters of this--of our existence-- it would seem that what matters is that one should learn to want to go on living, even when suffering, Oh, I feel so cowardly in this respect; even when my health has returned, I am still afraid.