yogi | author | artist
“The key experience for any artist, in all the arts, is the solitariness of the studio, the thousands of hours we spend alone with our work . . . I think it’s a folly to imagine another person being able to even come close to the richness we create for ourselves in our work.”
—- Thomas Nozkowski
I heard this today attributed to the Buddha. It clearly encapsulates the philosophy whether he said it or not. I wonder often if the artist’s way has the same philosophy in general, though I think Julia Cameron has this generally in mind though her recommended process. It was just so good to hear again that I wanted to write it somewhere, and this seemed like an appropriate place:
There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way.
A while back, I noticed creative Brooklyn artists had created a new medium for graffiti: mix and match subway posters. There’s a new image m(b)aker in town. This time the grafitti is more artisinal and more site specific to our Italian-American neighborhood.
In Terry Gross‘s interview, Brian May, guitarist of Queen, put on an unexpected (by me) hat, and explained that everything in the universe is made of the dust of supernovae. He noted that Joni Mitchell was therefore accurate when she wrote, “we are stardust…” in Woodstock.
May, it turns out, studied the dust streaming through our solar system for his PhD, which he went back for after Queen and obtained in 2007. According to Wikipedia, he is currently the Chancellor of Liverpool John Moores University.
‡ See I Am Love (Io Sono l’Amore) — again.
I occasionally find an artist I hope won’t become too popular. It’s a feeling of jealous possession. I can’t remember ever having this feeling about a film — until now. This amazing film is like a dreamy drug rush that makes it seem possible to leave behind a world of fascist perfection and all it offers its chosen ones for the romantic perfection offered by, say, la Boheme. Neither ideal can deliver in life, but through the most daring cinematic luxuriating I’ve seen since Tarkovsky, Luca Guadagnino with a cast led by the chameleon Tilda Swinton provide a suspended moment to show us what that ideal might look like. It’s a beautiful sight, but has a price tag that will nearly break the bank of mere mortals. The chosen ones, as usual in ideal and life both, just get richer. Don’t go see this — I want it all for myself.
Cute article and one editor’s fatales françaises in Vanity fair
‡ Pop. To be sure, the most important act of the week will be to honor the father (and mother concurrently); luckily the visit is possible this year on Father’s Day.
‡ Cyrus. I am very looking forward to Cyrus with Marissa Tomei, a crush ever since My Cousin Vinny. This movie hits some of the themes I’m playing with in a literary vein.
‡ Haunted. I’m going to check this one out at the Guggenheim. Curated by Jennifer Blessing, Curator of Photography, and Nat Trotman, Associate Curator with lots of blue chip work in photo, video, sound, and installation. In a nutshell,
examines myriad ways photographic imagery is incorporated into recent practice and in the process underscores the unique power of reproductive media while documenting a widespread contemporary obsession, both collective and individual, with accessing the past.
‡ Laura Peterson Choreography, everyone. Flash mobs in two outdoor locations in lower Manahattan. I can’t wait to see this. June 22-25
robin, marion
with cate, russell, ridley
3 favorite talents
1 favorite story
somehow, everything is moving at the pace of … this,
but I will, i will, i….willl get to this film
or maybe when i go on vacation next week….
okay, so i’m the last person not a tourist to catch this installation of the biennial and other landmark museum shows in town. But there were extenuating circumstances.
The biennial was pretty much what I have come to expect (there is a review by Peter Plagens in Art in America that captures my overall feelings while disagreeing about which were the worthwhile offerings). My favorite (and Plagens pan) was the Bruce High Quality Foundation ambulance/hearse. I’m also kind of sweet on Charles Ray’s flowers (also a Plagens pan).
MoMA’s exhibitions by Kentridge and Abramovic blew me away and gave me a much better rounded appreciation for the full body of work of these two. Perhaps I’ll get to elaborate soon……
Christian Viveros-Fauné gives a big nod to Chris Verene’s new Book, Family in today’s Village Voice and throws down this assessment of “most artists” work:
…Substitute the word “art” for “cultural theory,” and you’ve just described a parallel universe for much of the stuff that regularly fills contemporary galleries and museums. While rafts of visual artists today flock to subject matter like Michael Jackson’s praxis and the emancipatory possibilities of “hamster nests,” very few sign up to tackle what were once tagged “grand narratives”—stories about how regular people deal with poverty, injustice, and suffering, among other conditions not fully captured by the drolleries of air quotes.