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Jan. 13th, 2007
Wish you were here...
Jan. 13th, 2007 03:54 pmAbout ten or eleven years ago, my mother and I went on a tour of Scotland. On that tour we came across many rocks that were advertised as being one of Bruce's Stones - a place where Robert the Bruce paused during some long march or other to rest his weary soul and reflect. At one of these sites, we decided to stage a photograph of myself as Bruce, pausing and leaning against the stone to rest and reflect.
So when I saw a series of rock formations in Central Park this morning that recalled for me that idyllic trip, I could not resist recreating the scene ten years on. If I can, I'll scan the old photograph and upload it at a later date. In the meantime, enjoy...
( Teva the Bruce Pauses to Reflect in the Morning Light )
I'll post day two when it's actually over.
So when I saw a series of rock formations in Central Park this morning that recalled for me that idyllic trip, I could not resist recreating the scene ten years on. If I can, I'll scan the old photograph and upload it at a later date. In the meantime, enjoy...
( Teva the Bruce Pauses to Reflect in the Morning Light )
I'll post day two when it's actually over.
The little old German man agrees.
Jan. 13th, 2007 10:02 pmAt the Neue Gallerie this afternoon we stopped off in the bookstore after touring the museum. Mom looked at books on Viennese design, and I perused the art theory section. As this particular museum is dedicated to German and Austrian Art of the first half of the twentieth century, most of the works of theory were from German theoreticians - Adorno, Benjamin, Berg, etc.
As I was looking at the stacks (pulling a book out here, running a tracing finger along a spine there) a little old German man and his grandson, a full-blooded American boy, came up behind me. The grandson said to his grandfather, "Here's one," indicating a volume of the correspondence between Adorno and Berg.
"I have it in German," the grandfather said. "And honestly, I don't know why Berg bothered. It was a waste of his time. Adorno is deplorable."
"Why is that?" the grandson asked.
And it was at this point that Teva Jones turned to them and spewed forth her bossy, opinionated thoughts on Adorno. I spake thus: "He could never make up his mind about anything. He went back and forth ad infinitum under the guise of creating an aesthetic experience with his writings when really he was just refusing to take a position like any good theorist should."
The little old German man nodded his approval. "You're absolutely right," he beamed. Then he leaned in confidentially. "You know, Schoenberg despised him."
"Really?" I asked. (Arnold Schoenberg was one of Adorno's major influences.)
"Yes," he said. "Adorno was a student of Schoenberg's, even, and he hated him. You should read his critiques - they're right in line with your opinions."
"I will do that," I told him. "Thank you!"
"Thank you!" he said. And off they went.
A short time later, I ran into them in the coat check room. We said goodbye, and as I waited for my coat the little man came back. "I'd just like to add a further point about Adorno," he told me. "He was horrible towards women. It's a well known fact. He was just terrible to his female students."
!
As I was looking at the stacks (pulling a book out here, running a tracing finger along a spine there) a little old German man and his grandson, a full-blooded American boy, came up behind me. The grandson said to his grandfather, "Here's one," indicating a volume of the correspondence between Adorno and Berg.
"I have it in German," the grandfather said. "And honestly, I don't know why Berg bothered. It was a waste of his time. Adorno is deplorable."
"Why is that?" the grandson asked.
And it was at this point that Teva Jones turned to them and spewed forth her bossy, opinionated thoughts on Adorno. I spake thus: "He could never make up his mind about anything. He went back and forth ad infinitum under the guise of creating an aesthetic experience with his writings when really he was just refusing to take a position like any good theorist should."
The little old German man nodded his approval. "You're absolutely right," he beamed. Then he leaned in confidentially. "You know, Schoenberg despised him."
"Really?" I asked. (Arnold Schoenberg was one of Adorno's major influences.)
"Yes," he said. "Adorno was a student of Schoenberg's, even, and he hated him. You should read his critiques - they're right in line with your opinions."
"I will do that," I told him. "Thank you!"
"Thank you!" he said. And off they went.
A short time later, I ran into them in the coat check room. We said goodbye, and as I waited for my coat the little man came back. "I'd just like to add a further point about Adorno," he told me. "He was horrible towards women. It's a well known fact. He was just terrible to his female students."
!
New York - Day Two.
Jan. 13th, 2007 10:54 pmWe were indulgent this morning and lazed in bed until the late morning. Once up and on the move, we walked over to Central Park by way of a cute, little, hole-in-the-wall coffee shop that made decent butter croissants. Our walk through Central Park took us over an hour, as we strolled our way along its labyrinthine pathways - past beautiful rocks, through numerous and beautifully acoustic tunnels, along the banks of a cattail-studded pond, and around a strange obelisk. I took pictures of blooming Forsythia and of a trumpet-playing busker in one of the tunnels.
Our first stop was the Neue Gallerie, where we viewed a few absolutely gorgeous paintings by Klimt and I became annoyed with the audio guide - which relied mainly on leading-by-the-hand formal analysis and contained only rudimentary facts, although it was designed to keep the visitors looking at the works for a record two minutes. (Most museum-goers spend around fifteen seconds with a work of art before moving on.) There was an exhibition on Viennese design that was intriguing and featured a number of design styles that were clearly ripped off by Frank Lloyd Wright. (There was one photograph of a dining room that could have been straight out of Robie House, except for the fact that it predated Robie house by about ten years.) Mom and I took great pleasure in mentioning this to a group of women who were commenting on the similarities. It's been my experience that people often notice the Wright style in his predecessors but also tend to assume that Wright came first, which he did not. It's one of my life's missions to make sure that people understand the man was a hack, and sharing that information today was highly satisfying.
( Read the rest of this entry. )
Our first stop was the Neue Gallerie, where we viewed a few absolutely gorgeous paintings by Klimt and I became annoyed with the audio guide - which relied mainly on leading-by-the-hand formal analysis and contained only rudimentary facts, although it was designed to keep the visitors looking at the works for a record two minutes. (Most museum-goers spend around fifteen seconds with a work of art before moving on.) There was an exhibition on Viennese design that was intriguing and featured a number of design styles that were clearly ripped off by Frank Lloyd Wright. (There was one photograph of a dining room that could have been straight out of Robie House, except for the fact that it predated Robie house by about ten years.) Mom and I took great pleasure in mentioning this to a group of women who were commenting on the similarities. It's been my experience that people often notice the Wright style in his predecessors but also tend to assume that Wright came first, which he did not. It's one of my life's missions to make sure that people understand the man was a hack, and sharing that information today was highly satisfying.
( Read the rest of this entry. )