Author: vfsenter

I’m certain that there is nary a student at the University who is not feeling the stresses, pressures, and struggles that final exams present. You’re either a freshman, going through the insomnia for the first time, unsure what to expect, where to study or how much to study. You’re a sophomore, and you now care about your grades, you regret not caring nearly as much when you were a freshman, and now you realize you need an internship and well, your grades matter. You could be a junior and, well, reality has likely struck and not only are you intimately aware that your grade matters, but potentially, whatever internship you had this coming summer could offer you a job, and bingo, here life swings.

And there then are the seniors. A fourth are graduating this semester, a fourth are taking a kind 9 credits, and a fourth already have job offers. And there then is the last fourth, the fourth that is applying to graduate school, petrified that their grades of this semester will be the final decision makers, or those who do not yet have jobs and are just as terrified that these grades will be the ones that will or will not ensure their job placement. Of which, the latter fourth, I am a part of.

It’s my seventh time dealing with the finals grind, but somehow, it’s never gotten any easier. Instead, it only seems to get more and more overwhelming – the insurmountable pressures that hold for seniors, realizing that real life is around the corner, every grade, every test, every moment matters.

And so, just when the pressure is about to make me burst, I remember the one thing that I can always count on to make me happy – art. I’ve created a folder on my desktop of my favorite works, over 100, that I just sift through when the pressure makes my throat constrict, my palms sweat, and my knees shake. I hate finals, but hey, at least there’s beautiful art to lessen the pain.

This past weekend I was in San Francisco for Thanksgiving. Of course, there is never a city I will visit without paying special attention to its museums and current exhibits. Lucky for me, while I was there, a Jasper Johns exhibit was taking place at the San Francisco Museum of Art.

Now, when I think of Jasper Johns, as the amateur art historian that I am, the first thing that comes to mind are his flags. Actually, I wrote about his flag renderings on this blog just two weeks ago in context to the presidential elections. I think his flags are absolutely stunning, particularly for their ability for the American flag to be viewed in a far different fashion than most are generally accustomed to.

Yet, when I left the exhibit, I was shocked. The survey of Johns’ work, a semi-retrospective of his career, was not awe-inducing for the presentation of the flags that Johns is infamous for. Instead, it was the rest of his body of work that genuinely and wholeheartedly captivated me. After walking through the exhibit, not once but three times, I felt bored by his flags. I was instead amazed by his numbers and his representations of the seasons, winter, spring, fall and summer.

So, the problem then arises – as viewers of art, those who enjoy art but are not intense studiers of it, we become all to liable to the problem of associating an artist’s most famous work with the artist, solely. This, I believe, is detrimental to the understanding, appreciation, evaluation and study of art. As students of art, it is imperative to always have an open mind while viewing a work – without the freedom to think creatively, a student can never genuinely learn from a work, as they will instead be clouded with misconceptions. There must be countless well-educated people, those who may have taken an introductory art history course or visited museums while growing up, who, when asked about Jasper Johns, would say, “Oh, the one with the flags!” Well, yes, he is that, but he is also the creator of a deeply spiritual, highly intellectual, body of work.

I thereby challenge all readers, all viewers of art, to throw your preconceptions out the door when entering a museum, a gallery, an exhibit. Rather than allowing oneself to strictly see an artist’s work based on prior thoughts, instead, look at the individual work as its own entity, one that will allow you to get lost in its meaning and style. Art is far too unique and fluid to be caught up in the constraints of categorization and preconceived notions.

While Thanksgiving may be a holiday celebrated across America, it happens to be one of least importance to me and my family. For some reason, we have never quite gotten into the Thanksgiving spirit (it may be my immense fear of turkeys or my mom’s immense distaste for any form of cooking, who knows). This year, rather than celebrating Thanksgiving at my home in New York, we instead are in San Francisco, visiting my brother and celebrating in a rather untraditional way.

Families across the country are spending today slaving away in front of the stove, cooking a wide array of highly caloric albeit undoubtedly delicious fare, and I, instead, am working on cover letters, finessing my resume, and stretching before I take a 5-mile run.Tonight, rather than having a home cooked Thanksgiving, my family and I are going to a restaurant here in the Bay Area, and having our Thanksgiving meal pre-cooked and pre-decided for us. I don’t quite mind, but there is something rather amiss about being in a restaurant filled with strangers rather than at home with family and loved ones, eating food made by some ominous cook rather than with love by family members.

All this has gotten me seriously thinking about tradition, wondering really the place it has in my life (if any), and whether it’s of importance to have tradition. Growing up, I believe, having tradition instills a sense of familiarity and comfort. But now, as a 21-year-old about to graduate and embark on my own life, one free from the strings of my parents’ desires, what kind of traditions will I embark on, pass down to generations to come?

Tomorrow is Black Friday. Now, I love a good shop as much as any girl (my wardrobe can assuredly attest to that), but I have zero interest in standing in crowded stores, waiting in lines for dressing rooms, and trying on countless clothes that will be too snug after a far too large meal. So, I’ve devised a new tradition, one that I think will be far more fun. Rather than spending Black Friday shopping, I will be spending it art-ing (the verb I’ve coined for my aggressive days spent at museums and galleries). I’ve spent hours scouting galleries, museums, and exhibits in San Francisco so that tomorrow I can spend Black Friday nose-deep in art! Now, this is a tradition I can get used to.

It goes without saying that there is nothing more underrated here than the University’s Museum of Art. Among the masterpieces on view are Pablo Picasso’s Two Girls Reading (Deux Enfants Lisant) from 1934. The piece is emblematic of Picasso – the sharp lines, the geometric shapes, the rendering of the two females embracing one another. The combination of colors is enthralling – the smaller child’s face partly lavender, partly white. The larger female who is embracing the smaller is entirely sage green, her hand clutching the other figure’s shoulder. The two females are looking down, solemn in both their stares and the curvature of their eyes. Pasted behind them is mustard background. On the table with which they are perched is a book sprawled open.

The meaning behind this work is dual, undoubtedly. There is the loving embrace between the two female figures, but there is also the educational and literature element to the work – the fact that although the two figures are embracing, they are embracing through the shared love for reading.

The work strikes me in its classical Picasso movements – the sweeping strokes that create the figures in a combination of geometric shapes, the pointed noses, the curvature of the eyes, the geometric fingers that feel entirely non-human. The color is  Picasso, too.  The brusque orange and mustard yellow, contrasting the sage green and melodic lavender. The contrasting of the colors, the sharp black lines pointed – creating figures in themselves. But for me, more than anything, this work resonates the feeling I, as an English major, love all too much. I could spend hours, days even, snuggled up with a book – getting lost in its nuances, the plot and the characters becoming so familiar that I feel as though they are my kin. This painting, moreover, could be appreciated and have a familiarity with most, if not all, U of M students. We all, just in the inherent nature of being a student, spend hours with our books – losing ourselves in our studies, in the words written on the page.

So, I urge all students to take a stroll through UMMA. To find themselves face-to-face with the world’s greatest master, Picasso. Lose yourself in his colors – his lines. But moreover, lose yourself in the meaning behind the work, the ability it could have to strik you in a more personal, a more unforgettable, way.

With all the fury and fervor surrounding the Presidential election, particularly Tuesday’s momentous win for Barack Obama, I cannot help but have politics on the brain. The notion of patriotic art, however, is one I try to refrain from. Trust me, I love nothing more than artwork that conveys a political message of sorts (my passion for art began with Britain’s YBA who are infamous for their outlandish and provocative art). But artwork that displays a spirited passion for America?  That’s something I could pass on.

Or so I thought. I then remember Jasper Johns and his incredible flag paintings – combinations of oil paints, encaustic, collage and fabric. The works are stunning – in initial viewing they appear as mere depictions of the American flag, but further musing reveals the mastery and technique of Johns. The work below, titled Flag, is on view at New York’s Museum of Modern Art. The painting was created in 1955 and is 42 by 60 inches, approximately. Beneath the paint are glimmers of the newspaper that Johns used as part of his artistic process – newspaper that forever acts as a time capsule – an unadulterated portal into the past.

While the flag itself is beautiful, I am most enchanted by the technique of Johns – the duality and complexity inherent in the work and the value of the newspaper acting as a barometer of the time when the work was completed. The work may be visually appealing, but I think there’s nothing cooler than a work of art that reveals a slice of history – especially a slice so pristine as newspaper clippings.

For any art lover who has yet to experience art.sy, I plead you to log on and register for what may be the holy grail of art repositories. The website is an online collection of both current artwork and the masters’. With the ability to follow certain artists you can build your own library of art work – scrolling through the website and building your personal art collection (mine includes Banksy, Van Gogh, Matisse, and Pollack…among 25 other artists!) In addition to having the ability to buy current works, the website also sends daily inspiration to one’s inbox with high-res images and updates on works and artists.

This website marks a trend in the art world, one where digitization is becoming the norm. Inarguably, something is lost when images are transcribed online – no photograph can possibly render the beauty and power that one feels when they are face-to-face with a work of art. Some art feigns would even argue that the putting of images online distorts the works.

Yet, I beg to differ. Often, while sitting in class, I am wishing I could be in Manhattan, strolling through the halls of MoMA or the Met. However, this is an impossibility while stuck here in Ann Arbor. So, the next best thing (I figure!) is having my own online museum to get lost in – to spend hours scrolling through the gorgeous images that I wish I was able to see and surround myself by in person. While an online museum of sorts may not be the artists’ idea way of displaying their work, it is the perfect solution for those who are unable to spend hours losing themselves in a museum. The transportability and transience of an online art museum is, I’d say, pretty invaluable.