Beautifully Awkward

2010-01-10T00:44:00.001+00:00

“An artist expresses himself with his heart, so it is with your heart that you must take in their works. That’s the only thing that matters.”

Marcel Duchamp

Ich liebe dich…

2010-01-10T00:36:00.001+00:00

Jason Schwartzmen

Band of Outsiders Lookbook

11 Rue Larrey.

2010-01-09T23:33:00.001+00:00

If you were to go back many years ago, back to 1927, back to Paris and wonder through the streets, eventually you would come across 11 Rue Larrey. It was in this building that Surrealist artist Marcel Duchamp, was playing with a string of words - “A door must be either open or closed.” To most this was a French Proverb, but to Duchamp it was a challenge… or a joke – either way it had impact. It had meaning. And it could not be ignored.

It was then that he created, one of his more complex ready mades. His idea was to make a door that perfectly fitted two doorways. It connected the apartment entrance to his bathroom. When the door closed one room, it left the other open, thus bringing two contradictions together in the same moment. He described this simple, yet brilliant idea, as the definative ‘reconciliation of opposites.’

Ultimately this piece is memorable because it is the perfect expression of one man’s sense of humour. It is not so much a testament to surrealism, but really one of whimsy.

2009-12-15T13:23:00.001+00:00

“The secret of life is in art.”

Oscar Wilde

…A Thousand Words.

2009-10-12T21:07:00.001+01:00

The Mandolin Player,

Photographed Despite a Death Threat to the Photographer

Don McCullin

I think photojournalism is such a powerful art form. Not only do such images create a reality out of a tragedy, but they anchor true emotion. It isn’t a replication. It just is.

Take Don McCullin’s ‘The Mandolin Player’ – you can just picture it, can’t you?

It is 1976. A man stalks, cat-like, through Quarantina, a Muslim ghetto. Armed with his camera, it is clear he does not belong. Nonetheless he continues, merging with the shadows cast through the run down alleys of East Beirut. He isn’t sure what he is looking for, he just knows he will recognize it when he finds it. And then, it happens.

“Hey Mistah. Mistah! Come take photo.”

A mandolin player is waving. He stands amongst a group of Christian Falangists. They are celebrating over a new life lost, dancing over the body of a Palestinian girl. This man has a choice. He raises his camera, adjusts the shutter, and clicks.

…shortly afterwards he discovers that there is a death warrant out for him.

J’adore…

2009-10-11T16:04:00.001+01:00

Musician in the Rain

Robert Doisneau

2009-10-11T15:57:00.001+01:00

"Painting is a need, not a choice."

Leonora Carrington

The Real Surrealist?

2009-10-11T15:29:00.001+01:00

Maureen Carrington, wife to the successful 'textile tycoon', Harold Wilde Carrington, was prone to delusions of grandeur all her life. She announced to all who would listen that she was connected to royalty, as well as famous writers, like James Joyce. After the birth of three sons (Patrick, Gerald and Arthur), she held certain expectations of her only daughter, Leonora. Raised to be a dignified, and proper, young lady, it was hoped that she might go on to marry aristocracy. She had other ideas.

Leonora had an enthusiasm for rebellion from an early age. Following her expulsion from a number of the best schools in England, she discovered a more positive channel for her energies - an avid love of art. In pursuit of her passion, she broke away from an unsupportive family.

In 1937, Carrington met surrealist artist, Max Ernst, at a dinner party. Despite the age difference, he had charisma, talent, and her parents completely disapproved. They immediately became lovers. As their relationship endured, their artistic talent excelled. After moving to Paris with Ernst, and being introduced to André Breton ('leader' of the Parisian Surrealists), Carrington was welcomed by the movement. It was during this time that her personal style really began to flourish.

The 'Portrait of Max Ernst' displays some interesting contradictions. There are those who look at this canvas and see a depiction of the dark side of love. Ernst striding across a desolate wasteland holds a horse trapped in a lantern, whilst another is frozen in the background. The horse can be seen throughout Carrington's portfolio of work - it is her other side (free and animalistic). Therefore one could look at this composition as a reference to the power Ernst holds over his 'femme enfant' - a role of muse that Carrington could not abide. In later life she certainly expressed a belief that Ernst had a certain sort of ownership over her. Personally I prefer an alternative reading. One that interprets this painting as a role reversal of such conventional surrealist values. Ernst adorned in hot red feathers, and a tail fin has access to the realms of air and sea. His inspiration alone can make Carrington's imagination take flight.

Nevertheless life was good, but things were changing. The world was heading for war, and the couple's happiness could not last much longer. As World War II began, Ernst was interred as an illegal alien. Carrington had a nervous breakdown following his departure. Her recovery in a mental asylum was arduous, but even after she had recovered, her parents were keen to keep her locked up and under their rule. Her escape came in the form of a foreign diplomat, who offered Carrington her freedom through marriage. Breton revelled in Carrington's return, and the artistic potential that could follow. The surrealists believed that the art of the 'insane' expressed something real and untampered. Carrington, alone, had experienced the mental abyss.

2009-10-01T13:00:00.000+01:00

"We artists are indestructible, even in a prison cell or a concentration camp I would be almighty in my world of art. Even if I had to paint my pictures with my wet tongue on the dusty floor of my cell."

Pablo Picasso

Her Own Myth.

2009-09-28T22:46:00.001+01:00

The first time I happened upon Loie Fuller, she was a passing reference; A footnote in a book I was studying. Dismissed as 'nothing but a display of colours', I soon discovered she was so much more. Not only did she reinvent performance art, but she learnt how to reinvent herself. She was one of the first and true stars.

To describe her artwork, I would have to unveil the many layers of fabric and textile that she wrapped around herself. Hidden beneath this material existed a skeletal structure of wooden rods. This meant that every action, every muscular twitch, could then be transfigured into voluminous swirls and shapes. It was a new form of body language. This was then punctuated by a complex system of lighting that was built into the stage flooring. As Loie Fuller floated across the stage, she flickered before the audience. (I should mention, this was all happening in the nineteenth century!)

This remarkable woman lived her life off the stage just as dramatically - In love, she had her heartbroken on the discovery of her husbands bigamy. In business, despite being one of the highest grossing stars of her time, she continuouly faced finacial ruin. And in general, her health gradually diminished due to the nature of her work. And yet this was not enough. She mingled with royalty and the artistic elite. She constantly reinvented herself. Her memoirs were fluid, and often rephrased. Her tale is not just one of from rags to riches, but one of living art.

Lets Start At The Very Beginning.

2009-09-23T21:22:00.000+01:00

Hi all,

As you hopefully know by now, my name is Grace. After completing a degree in the History of Art and English Literature, and graduating about two months ago, my life has been a bit of a whirlwind. I got this fantastic new job working for the Galerie St George, New York! Just think of me as Simon Cowell but of the art world, and without the high waisted trousers... Basically I get to go out and meet all the amazing artistic talent that is scattered throughout the UK, creating exhibitions and generating sales.

This is a huge opportunity to start a career in an industry I love! As I figure my way through this wild world of paint splatterings, brush strokes and carvings, this blog shall be my attempt to keep track of it all whist venting my passion.