-
Art from the Land of the Rising Sun
Japan, in comparison with many other countries, is rather small, though it ranks tenth amongst the world’s highest populations. More fascinatingly, it has one of the richest and most eclectic art histories to speak of when considering it on its own. Yes, various countries in Europe do this or that, and Africa has a slew of artistic variety, but we’re just talking one country – 6852 islands, if you really want to talk about how amazing Japan’s universally-acknowledged solidarity is. Continuously infiltrated by other powers (China, Russia, Germany’s money, and the United States), art in Japan has successfully maintained a focused and healthy presence in the art world since the…
-
Landscape Art, Depictions of a Nature That Might Cease to Exist
I’m supposed to talk about pretty landscapes and painters from the 17th century until now that have slowly incorporated said landscapes into their paintings more and more, until finally Landscape became its own genre. And fine: nature is nice; butterflies, yay. Instead, I’d like to note that BP is sponsoring this. BP! The company that is ruining similar landscapes to the ones we’re meant to enjoy in the exhibition. Did the corporation’s discussion for putting this on the agenda include a “yeah, we better show them now before the destruction and decimation of our planet is complete”? The extraction and ceaseless use of natural gasses and oil is doing palpable…
-
Plain Jane or Fancy Pants?
I’m a rather plain girl in the sense of THINGS. Function beats form any day as far as I’m concerned (this, of course, excludes a previous post concerning my unhealthy affinity for shoes), ensuring that I will never be counted amongst the infamous and (for unknown reasons) publicised “Gold Diggers” of the world, which is surely a very real concern for any young woman of the 21st century. It took me ages to switch over to the “smart” phone, which only lasted about a year; as soon as it was possible I reverted back to a “dumb” phone – as long as it calls, texts, does math (because I can’t),…
-
Chicago and Picasso
I have to admit, I’ve had a bit of a crush on Chicago for a long time. Not because it’s cold or windy, or for any of its sports teams. I’m not a fan of deep dish pizza; hot dogs gross me out for the most part. Al Capone is pretty big to speak of, I suppose, but mob ‘outfits’ strike me as excessive and silly. One positive note thus far: I’ve heard amazing things about O’Hare International. Oh, and since the Chicago Fire of 1871, the city rightfully boasts superior urban planning. So what is it that has me perpetually itching to check out this mid-western city for an…
-
Power of Love VS Love of Power
A mind free of ignorance, greed, and hatred – peaceful and drama-free sounds nearly too good to be true. However, this state of being is amongst the ideals of Buddhism and basing my opinion simply on those standards, I see no wrong. A fair portion of the world has its qualms with religion – the concept in general, religions and philosophies which are not our own, and especially concepts we know little or nothing about. If you’re religious, so be it. I simply ask that you keep which ever God or gods you follow to yourself and leave me out of it. It’s a sensitive matter which falls amongst other…
-
Diamonds in the Rough
Arabian nights, like Arabian days, more often than not are hotter than hot in a lot of good ways. The Arab culture has gone from gross underrepresentation in television, art, and film to an intense misrepresentation over the past twenty years or so. While film directors and screen writers are helping the media plague the minds of the public about the Middle East, it’s far less often that I experience outward hatefulness from the group of people whom are relentlessly demonised as threatening, violent, and dangerous. Children are brought up with quirky yet adorable “street-rat” Aladdin, who steals to eat and falls in love well outside of his league. We’re…
-
Don’t just do something – sit there.
In theory yoga is this beautiful, wonderful, spiritual experience that is meant to cleanse mind, body, and soul. In practice yoga causes a slew of frowned upon words to come flying out of my mouth at record speeds. It is a deep, dark torture which we, as masochists, inflict upon ourselves day after day of shaking cores, trembling arms, and ready-to-collapse legs. We stretch ourselves in ways we never thought possible, only to discover they are possible, but will we be stuck this way forever? The idea of sitting still long enough to have my portrait painted makes my muscles ache in a way that I’ve only known through Downward-Facing…
-
Beaux-Arts, fromage, guillotines, and other French concepts
I started learning French about ten months ago. It was an idea that I toyed with for the ridiculously large span of one to thirteen years prior (when it was offered in middle school and my dearest mother thought Spanish would prove more useful in my future and made me study it instead – I will neither agree or disagree with that point all of these years later). Initially this venture, ten months ago, started out of spite – I was surrounded by French speakers and could never get a word in edgewise because I never knew what the hell they were talking about. I planned to learn it the…
-
In Love … With Myself
Online profiles are essentially shameless self-promotion – things you like, things you do, endless photos of yourself, etc. However, I find when my skinny friends post too many photos of themselves in swimsuits, or newly-engaged friends post endless photos of rings and partners, and my married friends post hundreds of photos of their new babies, I start to feel badly about myself. That’s not to say that I’m not doing cool things or that I want children (Any. Time. Soon.), but sites like Facebook have opened many doors to jealousy, self-loathing, and endless comparison of ourselves to others. Stop it! You know who would have been shamelessly good…
-
Can (and should) life truly imitate Art?
At first glance I thought this exhibition was about something else entirely – bodies covered in tattoos (to which I am entirely approving). But now that I am well informed, I’ve got some things to say. Are photographs art? Sure, sometimes, certainly not all the time, just have a look at my memory card. But are they Art, capital A, meant to be scrutinised, reviewed, and studied for centuries to come? I’m not so sure. Painting is an expression of one’s mind, heart, and imagination. The colours we interpret, the way things make us feel, whatever happens to be going through our heads at a particular moment in time. Paintings…





























You must be logged in to post a comment.