The (ominous) White Ribbon

After thinking about the film off and on for the past couple of days (it was finally released in my area), Michael Haneke’s hypnotizing, mesmerizing Palme d'Or winning The White Ribbon is now on my end of ‘09 list as my second favorite movie from last year (probably even a “better” film then my favorite, Up in the Air). I need to see it again, but it's safe to say Haneke can’t fail! Not only is The White Ribbon impeccably made, with incredible, stark black and white cinematography and a subtle screenplay, the perfect blend of understated terror with a hint of humanity (usually lacking in his films); but the film (yet again) is a smart, scathing critique on imperialism, capitalism, and the powers that be (then, in pre-WWI Sweden, and now). It’s also a history lesson. The small town of the film is the micro within the macro of the world stage at the time.

The White Ribbon is nothing short of brilliant and solidifies Haneke's legacy even further, as if he needed it. If you can find it in theaters, go see it! NOW! Before it’s gone!

the hoover dam(n), the grand canyon, and the western plains

In between Vegas and Los Angeles, we passed through the Hoover Dam and made a pit stop at the Grand Canyon. Two amazing places with great scenic driving in between. This is when the trip hit its stride and never looked back.

As with the previous pictures I posted, these were taken with my Minolta SLR (a Maxxum 5) and Lomo Diana Mini.

This guy spent nearly half an hour having his dad photograph him in a bunch of different positions. Amazing.

 

learning from las vegas

I've been meaning to pick up Robert Venturi's infamous Learning From Las Vegas, a book that called "for architects to be more receptive to the tastes and values of "common" people and less immodest in their erections of "heroic," self-aggrandizing monuments." I'll get back to you on that, but I begin this post thinking of Venturi's book because I just developed pictures from a recent trip to Las Vegas, amongst many other places on the West Coast.

Las Vegas is a strange animal indeed. I can't imagine I'll ever return there. It's streets lined with photographs of nearly-naked women and tourists taking pictures of its many faux monuments really rubbed me the wrong way. But the city also fascinated me. No where else have I been where there is such a clear delineation and obvious juxtaposition between the genuine or sincere, and the fake. Amongst the deprivation, loveless sex, and crude excess one can find families truly enjoying themselves. In front of and inside the city's plethora of architectural lies such as the Bellagio and Ceaser's Palace there are heart warming surprises such as the former's enchanting fountains. People really feel like they're somewhere special when they visit Las Vegas, but almost nothing in Las Vegas is new, at all. It's really a terrible place. Everything that is wrong with this country (the world really) all boiled down to a strip of road not more than four miles long.

Probably because of the obvious differences from the rest of the city, I really got a kick out of the seedier parts of town at the end of the the strip near the Sahara and the Stratosphere. Gross!

Anyway, below are some of the photographs I took in there. Some of these were taken with my Minolta SLR while others (the square ones) were taken using my Lomo Diana Mini.

Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the politics of their art: part 4

In these next two (and final) parts, one could say I get into the nitty gritty of my argument, really fleshing it all out and making large hypotheses (perhaps even sweeping generalizations).

To catch up, read part 1 here, part 2 here, and part 3 here. 

Christo and Jeanne-Claude, the Politics of their Art: How they are (shrewdly and discreetly) Socialist, Anti-American and Revolutionary - part 4

While the Christos’ major works in Europe have involved the wrapping of well known man-made public structures such as Wrapped Reichstag and The Pont Neuf Wrapped, their projects in America (and Japan), with the exception of their early work Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago, Wrapped and Wrapped Floor and Stairway (pictured), have dealt with natural creations and mostly rural areas. What are they trying to declare in America that they have not bothered to declare elsewhere in the world? Why get American’s out of their bustling cities, their million dollar homes, and their countless shopping malls and into the wilderness and back in touch with nature? And why not Europeans or anyone else? These works take place in rural areas where more humble communities can be found, some living off the land they own which the Christos have borrowed for the duration of the work. The Christos are forcing an interaction between urban Americans and their more rustic neighbors as well as the world around them; a simpler and more real way of life not as far as they had imagined.

The careful planification of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s works in America, compared to anywhere else, can be read as a critique of America’s cultural takeover and overly capitalistic character. Though this may not be completely intentional (Christo and Jeanne-Claude would never execute a work to get such an individual point across) their work is made to make the viewer think, feel, and contemplate outside the everyday. Consequently, from the average opinionated individual, such a reading could not help but be extracted. Their work, particularly in America, juxtaposes the industrial strength of the 20th and 21st centuries with the timeless beauty of the natural world, bringing up environmental concerns more relevant in the United States than anywhere else. Much of their work makes use of disparities and juxtapositions. The Umbrellas, for example, was fashioned in order to spur discussions over the differences between Japanese and American cultures. Planned and executed in the stretch of ten years, the work was immaculately deliberate. It used the countries’ many differences involving climate and land usage and availability, juxtaposing Japan (and the Pacific East’s) limited yet cultivated lush mountain climate with American West’s vast and arid often uncultivated valleys. Japan using their resources as efficiently as possible; America with such great potential and so little results. In an interview with the director of 5 of their films Albert Maysles, Jeanne-Claude comments on a visit to colleges in both California and Japan. These talks were conducted in order to recruit workers for the project. During questioning after each of the talks Jeanne-Claude noted that the first question at a Los Angeles university was in regards to the cost of the work and who would pay for it. In Japan, on the other hand, the first question was not economic but rather an aesthetic concern regarding the choice of colors for the umbrellas of each country. Now think about the innumerable diverse reactions to the work from the more than 3 million who visited it during the 14 days the site was open to the public and the millions more who studied it years before and after through diverse forms of media. One can only imagine the great social/critical effect the work had on the two country’s populations and the world.

Their work is subtly yet profoundly revolutionary. It calls for change, inciting it in the viewer in an unforgettable way. The communicative aspect of the Christos’ work causes viewers to question social barriers and prejudices, prejudgments, stereotypes, views, and beliefs. The transcendent side allows us to rise above the everyday and focus on a bigger picture. Because their art is free from any and all forms of dogma it predicts and precedes a world without the need for ideologies. “Having no sympathy with any existing ideology, they attempt to escape into a world without ideologies.” Not so much against, but beyond that, apart from the norm, their art can thus be considered thematically utopian and revolutionary. As Herbert Read finishes off his essay ‘What is Revolutionary Art?’, “REVOLUTIONARY ART IS CONSTRUCTIVE – REVOLUTIONARY ART IS INTERNATIONAL – REVOLUTIONARY ART IS REVOLUTIONARY;” Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s artworks are a perfect embodiment of this superb 1935 essay’s closing lines. And even though Read was writing at the time on formalist artistic trends versus the more realistic, or “superrealism,” of his time, his hailing of the artist who uses pure form as revolutionary is entirely applicable to the Christos.

To be continued. For references, leave me a comment. 
 

my night with Zach

Last night I got into a heated discussion about the merits of Christo and Jeanne-Claude's work (surprisingly, it wasn't me who introduced them into the conversation), although it was pretty much about all conceptual and site-specific art. This, with a guy who not only looked just like Zach Galifianakis, but actually worked as a volunteer on one Christo and Jeanne-Claude's works! He doesn't see the value of just about any and all art created after the Impressionists, claiming art in the 20th and now 21st Centuries, particularly of the conceptual and/or abstract kind, is self indulgent and needlessly complicated. As a traditional painter, he praised (and rightfully so) the work of 19th Century painters such as Manet and Goya because they "painted with their hearts" and believes the best art should hit the viewer on a basic level and not be buried in meaning, symbolism, concepts, or high-minded ideas. Noble perhaps, but completely ridiculous. How frustrating and futile a conversation this was! And it's his kind of fatalist, negative attitude that frustrates the most.

Anyway, today I noticed that what I failed to realize during this intense, alcohol-fueled, needless debate was just how easily I could have refuted his obscene hypothesis by simply pointing to the obvious: Art is basically one's commentary on one's life experiences and the world around us, right? And life can be the simplest yet most complicated thing in the universe. And so, as a reflection of of it all, shouldn't art be both simple and complicated. All the best art is... really. Think about it.

Is this post as pointless as last night's conversation? Probably. But then, it's just as essential.