Painting a Coloring Book

Coloring was one of those things you did as a child. Taking your favorite characters and either scribbling all over their faces in colors that made no sense or meticulously choosing the right color and shading in the characters in a somewhat accurate way.

I’ve recently come to poses “Lost Ocean” a coloring book created by Johanna Basford that has lots of difficult designs and intricate patterns for coloring.

This is not mean for beginners with poor motor control to color but for a more practiced audience. Throughout my years at UofM I have heard the benefits of coloring as a child and as an adult expounded again and again. It helps relax people, it practices fine motor skills, and is an activity that requires just enough concentration but allows the mind to wander. In a sense I think it might even be like meditation for those who don’t want to sit in pure silence.

I really enjoy the art style of the book and am considering getting some of other coloring books by the same creator. When picking out this book I’ve decided to make the book a painting project. I enjoy painting, and have really wanted to work on creating depth with the medium.

The front cover of the book also inspired me with random golden highlights. I am a huge fan of metallic paints and how they show up much more to my liking than metallic colored pencil.

One evening I decided to break out the paints and start working. I have not gotten very far in my attempt yet. I discovered that some of the lines are so fine and the designs so intricate that I do not have a brush tiny enough to fit.

Trying to paint in such a small space with my thinnest brush really exposed some problems I’d never encounter before in painting. Sometimes the bristles of the brush wouldn’t be perfectly aligned creating random streaks where I did not want them covering over the original lines. It’s also easy to get too much paint on the brush, making weird blobs where I didn’t want them.

I am going to continue with this project after I find a thinner brush. I really think little projects like this really help gain new skills or just more patience. Practice makes perfect and being able to complete the whole book in the the style I want will be rewarding with having it look pretty but also hopefully improve my other skills, like patience and design work.

“It Belongs in a Museum!” 1500 Paintings Hidden from Public

If you haven’t been following international art news lately, then you may be in for a surprise.  An on-going investigation of looted art (presumably stolen and stored by Nazis) has revealed almost 1500 pieces of art that belong to one man.  Cornelius Gurlitt was the son of an art dealer commissioned to sell most of the works looted by Nazis.

Reproduction of a Franz Marc painting believed to be part of Gurlitt’s collection (Washington Post)

Authorities recently seized his collection, but according to a German statute of limitations, his years of ownership make the art un-seizable.  In other words, Gurlitt has a right to keep every last piece if he wants to.

Is this a case of ‘finders keepers’ gone wrong?

In terms of precious cultural pieces, I have always been of the Indiana Jones mindset that ‘it belongs in a museum‘, whatever “it” may be.  In this case, there is a lot of it.  1500 paintings by artists like Marc Chagall, Max Beckmann and Otto Dix are purported to be in Gurlitt’s collection.

A big question on most people’s mind is “Where did all of the paintings come from?”  Police believe they were looted or bought off of Jewish families during WWII, but their provenance remains a mystery and isn’t likely to be something that Gurlitt will reveal any time soon.

Gurlitt I don’t know how this case will end.  In an interview with German magazine Der Spiegel, the reclusive and obstinate art collector said “I won’t voluntarily give back anything, no, no,” and that “When I’m dead, they can do with them what they want.”  This does not bode well for the art community, the German people, and especially the Jewish families who lost such precious pieces.

 

 

‘Riders at the Beach’ by Max Lieberman, another painting in Gurlitt’s nefarious collection

Even if the provenance was traceable, that is a lot of art to trace.  My suggestion and my hope is that someday a special art collection at a German museum will be established as a memorial to the families who lost these pieces.  The displays of art can be a reminder not only of the lost beauty from these personal collectors, but also the lost humanity in times of war.

 

Sources: http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/style-blog/wp/2013/11/17/german-collector-wont-give-art-to-anyone-report-says/
http://www.foxnews.com/world/2013/11/18/german-collector-says-hid-art-trove-out-love-wants-collection-back/

 

Functionality Over Taste

This weekend, I attended a conference with a group called InterVarsity, which took place in enemy territory. That’s right, I went to East Lansing, home of MSU. Besides the fact that I was unable to wear anything from the maize side of my closet and I saw a LOT of green, I noticed a few things about the hotel I stayed in.

Pointed out to me by my (new) friend Mary, art student extraordinaire, the conference center and hotel was beautiful. From the way the sinks were designed, to the calming waterfall welcoming guests into what will hopefully be a home away from home, the layout was appealing, stylish, and modern. I noticed small touches, such as the way the comfortable chairs were placed near large windows, were the sunlight could filter in and provide a pleasant atmosphere when having a chat with friends. I enjoyed the placement of a revolving door, optional next to the regular door yet still an instillation that made the institution feel like a hotel. Yes, as Mary said, the architecture was great.

So that makes it artful, right?

When going to wash my hands, I had no idea where to place the complimentary bar of soap. When I found it could be tucked between the faucet handle and the raised edge of the sink, I felt proud…until it slipped of back into the sink.

Put on, slip off.

Put on, slip off.

The fountain, while gorgeous, spanned two stories. The water fell from the main lobby into the garage floor, into a pool with…what kind of sculpture? Really, what is that supposed to be? Did they actually pay money for that?

And why in the world would I want to look at a bale of hay right before I’m supposed to slip into pleasant dreams filled with friendship, laughter and rainbows? Hay is not particularly calming to me. In fact, I really don’t like hay (too many encounters on Rodeo Day. This is what I get for growing up in Texas).

All of these things culminated into a single question that both my friend Mary and another friend of mine Dean posed: Does art HAVE to have a reason?

In this case, I would solidly argue with yes, since a hotel is primarily functional rather than artful. I’m not sure if I necessarily agree all the time, but every time I’ve encountered art, either in audio or visual form, it’s made a clear statement. Deep? Maybe not. But a clear idea, theme, statement, whatever you have it? Yeah.

So I’m not sure what statement the bale of hay was trying to make. But hopefully, it was making a statement, and I just happened to miss it.

A Little Themed Tour in UMMA: What Clothes Tell Us

Exploring UMMA is one of my favorite things to do in my spare time. I enjoy wandering in the quiet and cozy museum, stopping by whichever painting that draws my attention, and trying to appreciate it by looking closely at it and reading the label. However recently, rather than try to learn more about each painting, I found a more interesting thing to do: to look at several paintings together, to compare them and to find the subtle similarities or underlying relationships among them. Today for my little themed tour, I picked four portaits in UMMA, in each of which the costumes of the figures can tell us the story behind the painting itself.

The first painting I’m gonna introduce is Portrait of a Lady by Johann Tischbein, which is located in the European Gallery on the first level. It is a portrait of a well-dressed lady. We can see her elegant blue silk dress with delicate lace cuffs, her resplendent earrings and necklace, her elaborately braided hair and the matching hair ornaments. Although we don’t know her exact identity, but from her costume we can infer that she is a lady from high social class. She is also holding a fan in her right hand, which may give us a clue of the fashion trends back the time she lived. Fans became fashionable decorations for women in 18 centuries and can be seen in many portraits in that period. Ladies used fans not only to cool themselves but also to enhance body languages.

Right next to this portrait is another portrait of a man. Like the lady in the former painting, he is also dressed in a sumptuous way. His red coat and waistcoat seem to be velvet, with rich gold embroideries on them. His powdered wig is also noteworthy. Pamela Reister, one of the curators in UMMA, once told me that the size of the wig could reflect the man’s rank to some extent. She said bigger wig would suggest higher social rank of the wearer, and was also considered to be more fashionable. The identity of the figure is indeed Pierre Bachelier, the director of customs at Lyon, according to the title of this painting. Therefore, the outfit of the figure in this painting can tell us much about his profession and also his social status.

One of the most eye-catching pieces in the apse is Portrait of Maximilien-Sébastien Foy by Baron François Gérard. Maximilien Foy was a French general and statesman. According to the label, Gérard painted this portrait after the death of General Foy, in other words, the painter didn’t have General Foy posing for him as a model but painted this portrait based on his memory. Thus, the choice of the painter to paint the general in French army uniform could be explained as an attempt to emphasize the figure’s identity as a former military leader. His cloak billowing to the wind reminds us of the famous portrait of Napoleon by David, who was shown as confident and ambitious. The medals on his uniform imply the honors he received as a general, who was severely wounded 15 times and eventually died on the battlefield.

Costumes could be deceptive sometimes, too. If you go upstairs and turn right, you would easily spot a portrait on the balcony of a woman in a blue dress. The lady is shown in a elegant position, with her head raised a little bit and his eyes confronting the viewer with confidence and dignity. Her dress doesn’t even look outdated now, which was probably of the highest fashion back the time the painting was made. However, if you are guessing she was a bourgeois woman, you would be surprised to find out that she was actually a working class widow who could find no other jobs but modeling for the painter. She was in poor health and could hardly pay for the medicine or support her two children. The discrepancy between her dress and her actual identity makes this painting more intriguing and thought provoking for the viewer.

Ok. Here ends my special tour of UMMA:) Btw, you are welcomed to come to UMMA After Hours this Friday (which is Oct.15 and I’m gonna be a volunteer, too!). And if you come, don’t forget to check these paintings out!

Moving Life Painting

We’ve all seen still life painting.  Often involving fruit or oysters that look like this….

Or this…

But unlike real fruit on real tables that you can pick up and squeeze with your hands and taste with your tongue, still life rarely has any life to it.  At least, this was what I thought about still life until I came across artist Scott Gardner.

Using a new technology called ‘Unity 3D’ Gardner has mounted television screens that bring movement to still life.  The screen of his art is highly sensitive to movement and the objects inside it move around according to how the frame moves.  Spectators are encouraged to interact with his art.  Touch it, tilt it, move it around to their heart’s content.  And also to watch with wonder as the life inside the frame moves along with the viewer.

The video on Gardner’s website shows how the pieces in his art move around.  Admittedly, it’s not completely true to life.  No matter how many times you spin the frame, the vase never breaks and the fruit never explode.  But until everyone gets their Hogwart’s acceptance letter and can be enrolled in a school where the paintings not only have life to them, but opinions as well, I think Gardner’s art is the closest thing we’ve got.

And as technology develops, maybe in time artistic innovators like Gardner will bring ‘life’ to more than just still life.  Ever wondered what the Mona Lisa was so smirky about?  What if you were able to poke one of those cubby cherubs and see it react? I don’t know what classicists or modernists would say, but I think an exhibition of reactive art would be an exhibition the whole family would enjoy.  And might be a popular gateway into earlier traditions of high art.

Painting Spoiler Alert!!

The other day in my art history class, we had just moved past the French Realist movement and were centering in on the beginnings of impressionism.

For the last fifteen minutes of class, we were examining this painting:

It looked pretty nice to me.  Like a post card or the book cover to a Victorian rags-to-riches story.  What it communicated to me was something along these lines, “Oh, look at these wonderful hats!  Fluff, fluff, fluff!  I wonder what’s on The Bachelor tonight.  I hope that slut from Reno goes home.  Ay me!”

However, after fifteen minutes of lecture, I was told that such was not the case.

Instead, what this painting is actually communicating, is a commodified young girl who is susceptible to the penetrating male gaze of capitalist France.

What do FEATHERS have to do with the male gaze??!
What do FEATHERS have to do with the male gaze??!

In literary criticism, examining a piece of literature without any historical context, author’s biographic information, or ideology is part of New Criticism.  New Critics focus on works of poetry and prose as self-contained entities with meaning in themselves.

All of this commodification talk got me thinking… does a painting have inherent meaning?   If we don’t know the painter’s original intent, how do assess what the meaning is in the first place?

While I was sitting there, trying to take notes, all I could think to myself was, “I still think the colors and textures are pretty.  And that this woman is probably nice and sends money to her mom every weekend.”

I was also thinking that I needed some chocolate or something to cheer me up, because Marxism (along with many other -isms) often sucks the positive emotions out of my life like an ideological dementor.