In the last 6 months one of the more enjoyable and memorable experiences has been at art museums. I have liked art for a long time, but, to be honest, for much of that time, appreciating art wasn’t always fun–not in the conventional sense of the world. The patience and attention that would be necessary to have a fulfilling experience required effort. Because of that, I would mostly go to a museum with the right frame of mind and mood, which wasn’t all that frequent. Recently, that seems to have changed–specially visiting several NYC museums and today visiting LACMA (Then again, maybe the art I have recently experienced was more exceptional or more resonant with me. In this thread I want to jot down several thoughts and observations I had, from comments about specific pieces to more general thoughts about art.
Richard Serra’s Band
Many years ago I saw Serra’s work on a PBS program and for some reasons his art really resonated with me. It was abstract, but also industrial, and for whatever reason I really respond to art and music with industrial elements. (He made large pieces made out of steel.) LACMA has one of those large pieces–Band, and I spend a lot of time looking and moving around it. Here is a video of the piece: < Here are some specific thoughts on the piece:- The first surprise: the piece didn’t look like it was made of steel, but wood–both in terms of the color and texture. Indeed, I feel like Serra intended the steel to look like wood. When I first saw the piece on TV, I thought the brown color was mostly rust or dirt. In person, it doesn’t look like rusted metal at all; it looks like wood. I’m a little thrown by this revelation because the steel, beat up, rusted, appealed to me. Even now, I think I somehow like the piece more because I know it’s made of steel–even though would I have guessed it was made of wood. (I’m not sure what to make of this.)
- The curves of the piece imply movement and dynamism–sometimes conjuring up undulating ocean swells and other times a coruscating sea snake particularly when moving and following the top edge of the piece. When you move, the piece “moves” as well, providing different perspectives of the pieces. It was as if each new angle was a new piece of art; as if the Band was a myriad of different artworks rolled into one.
- On a slightly related note, as I tried to take photos of the piece, at angles that I liked, I realized that these angles weren’t able to capture enough of the piece to provide the effect that I experienced.I tend to think photographs really can’t capture the effect because it can’t really capture enough of the piece at specific angles. Video would do a better job of this, but even this has deficiency. Somehow moving and walking in and around the piece–being able to easily tilt one’s head to see the piece in many different angles–is the sort of thing that provides a richer experience, and I’m skeptical video could do this.
More later.
General Comments
6_v211132013 (2015) by Petra Cortright
LACMA had an installation on video art. Of the art presented, two really struck me–an Andy Warhol piece (made on old computers) and Petra Cortright’s V 21132013, which was a video painting. At first, I thought it was a painting on a video screen, but by accident I discovered that the painting actually paints and erases itself in a loop (about 7-10 minutes I think).
(Note: I believe I took the photo above before I realized that the painting changed over time. I don’t think this is supposed to be the “completed” painting.)
Here are some notes I jotted down:
The piece makes me think of an even more abstracted version of Monet’s water lillies–with the blues recalling the pond, the greens on the bottom looking like lily pads, while the organe/red/yellows at the top evoke the sun and sunset.
I also thought of abstracted Hieronymous Bosch painting–only featuring abstracted nature in chaos.
Besides these things, I just like the aesthetic qualities of the piece. By the way, I’ve never heard of Cortright and this is the first time I’ve seen her art.
Here are some other “moments” of the painting–moments when the painting is “erasing” or breaking down:
Interestingly, I do think one can identify the “completed” painting–or at least identifying a range where the painting is likely completed. Then again, maybe Cortright would disagree with this. Maybe the entire duration is the completed work–that there is no beginning or ending.
(More on Serra’s Band)
Here’s a photo that shows how the metal looks like wood:
This next photo shows not only the wood-ish texture/look, but also shows the “seam,” connecting two large metal sheets, showing the way Serra put together the piece. According to the write-up, if placing these sheets have to be perfect. Errors of just a few millimeters could prevent the piece from standing.
Hardedge Line Painting (1963) Lorser Feitelson
I’m not sure why I like this painting.
Desert Moon (1955) Lee Krasner
Untitled (1971 by Karen Carson
In addition to the aesthetics, I liked the concept of this one. Black cloth, with sections held together by zippers, is pinned to a white wall. My understanding is that viewers could choose to unzip specific sections changing the piece. This wasn’t allowed at the museum, so I assume Carson choose this particular iteration.
Actual Size (1962) by Ed Ruscha
This one made me laugh. There is a can of spam–in its actual size–in the lower section. It seems to be shooting across the canvas like a comet. In the “comet tail,” the words “actual size” are written.
The Jewel (1959) by Jay DeFeo
I like the “caked” paint, giving this a bad relief quality and a lot of texture. The first picture really doesn’t do the painting justice.