Thursday, August 1, 2019
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
Why is Vermeer’s “Girl with the Pearl Earring” considered a masterpiece?
<p>It is the mysterious subject of the Dutch painter Johannes Vermeer, “<a href=”https://www.outpost-art.org/girl-with-a-pearl-earring-p-19781.html”>Girl with a Pearl Earring</a>.” The plate is often referred to as “North Mona Lisa.” Belong to the ideal Dutch style, sometimes too expressive Known as “Troni” any face, The Girl with Pearl Earring has two gravitational grafts And the remarkable silence of Vermeer. But this painting stands apart from the quiet narrative scenes Which we observe from afar in a lot of paintings (Vermeer). A girl reads a message. piano Lesson. Portrait of an artist working. These paintings give us a sense of familiarity from a reasonable distance, The slanted curtain often symbolizes separation.</p>
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<p><img style=”display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;” src=”https://www.outpost-art.org/images/Jan%20Vermeer/The%20Kitchen%20Maid.jpg” alt=”” width=”523″ height=”585″ /></p>
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<p>See the maid pour milk quietly, But milk is not for us. What we are only spectators. The compositions studied in Vermeer’s paintings. A sense of balanced harmony. The chess-like floor is in many of his works We show us the Vermeer control of the oblique perspective technology. It is a technique that uses angle deflection To create an illusion, retreat an object away. Other elements are line of sight, mirrors and light sources Describe the moment according to position and area. A woman reading a message next to an open window Neatly positioned to reflect the image of the viewer. Vermeer may conceals a man who rests the painter for the sake of composition. The absence of these elements in the “Pearl Earring Girl” painting gives her life.</p>
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<p>The method of treatment (Vermeer) of light and shadow or evacuation and stoning Its use means a dark, flat background to highlight its three dimensions. Instead of being a piece in a theater scene, Become a psychological subject. Her visual communication and her lips as far apart as if she were about to say something Make us stand up for her campaign. The nobles or religious figures were the subject of the prevailing portraits. So why did Vermeer draw an unknown girl? In the seventeenth century the city (Delft) like the Netherlands as a whole, Rebellion against Aristocratic rule and the Catholic Church. After eight decades of revolution against Spanish rule, The Dutch favored autonomy and a political republic. The city of Delif was not under the rule of any kings or bishops, Many painters, such as Vermeer, remained without the usual officials. Fortunately, he did economic innovation Which was led by the company “East India” Dutch Change the economic landscape in the Netherlands. Which led to the emergence of a class of traders and a new kind of power.</p>
<p><img style=”display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;” src=”https://www.outpost-art.org/images/Jan%20Vermeer/Houses%20in%20Delft.jpg” alt=”” width=”492″ height=”600″ /></p>
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<p>And their desire to appear in the paintings they funded These traders preferred to draw people from the middle class Within areas that look like their homes And are surrounded by familiar things. The maps shown in Vermeer’s paintings, for example It was considered a merchant class known as the Golden Age of the Netherlands Popular and global The Oriental turban worn by the “Pearl Earring Girl” It reflected the global dimension of the merchant class, The pearl, which symbolizes wealth, is an exaggeration. Vermeer could not buy a pearl of this size. Most likely, a piece of glass or tin was painted to look like a pearl. This illusion of richness is reflected in the painting itself. In a broader context, the pearl looks round and heavy, But when you look at it carefully it will look like a floating coating. When we examine them carefully, we can see the ability of Vermeer as an illusionist Even if we do not know the identity of the real Pearl Girl, We can enjoy its plate in an unforgettable way It hangs in its eternal resting place at the Museum of Murchus in The Hague Its presence is both static and disturbing.</p>
<p><img style=”display: block; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;” src=”https://www.outpost-art.org/images/Jan%20Vermeer/The%20Concert%20.jpg” alt=”” width=”532″ height=”600″ /></p>
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<p>In its mysterious way, it represents the birth of a contemporary perspective Economy, politics and love.</p>
The post Why is Vermeer’s “Girl with the Pearl Earring” considered a masterpiece? appeared first on Outpost Art Blog.
The main elements to create oil paintings
Oil paintings are very popular in the art business. Most people who venture into the paint often choose oils for different reasons. When it comes to paintings, there are some elements to take into account. Color is the main element because is the most outstanding part. Obviously, the subject is important too but a good combination of colors will make your work a quality work. The most valuable point is the connection between color and physique, don’t forget this tip if you want to create quality oil paintings.
The brushwork is something important in the paint. It is an ability that all painters develop with the practice. This is why it is important using brushes of different sizes. Not all brushworks are equal. For getting an adequate tactile impression, texture and perspective, the painters should have the ability to finish an oil painting successful. Today, it is easy to find brushes of different sizes and materials. The author or painter is the head of the work. Oil paintings frequently reflect author’s inspiration in diverse situations, even the most recognized oil painters can be identified by certain styles and particular situations.
Oil paintings and paintings overall are recognized by a title. Therefore, if you are planning a future work, you must think a title to identified it. All art exhibitions display paintings with specific information and the title is including it. A title is usually very casual, you don’t need to think too much to create one. Lastly, if you want quality works, you must use quality materials; there are not secrets in this point.
These are some basic elements to create oil paintings in a simple way. Not matter if you are a professional o beginner, you should practice constantly because paint is an activity like any other. If you don’t practice, you paint’s abilities will decrease.
The post The main elements to create oil paintings appeared first on Art in Bulk Blog.
The main elements to create oil paintings
Monday, March 5, 2018
The seven streams of the river
A number of superlatives immediately arise when confronted by a performance by Robert Lepage -- stunning, magical, intense, virtuosic. While one may expect to witness inventive staging, narrative complexity and striking visual effects, one may not be prepared to experience his works' emotional vividness and profound depth of feeling. "Compassion" is not a term usually associated with contemporary avant-garde theatre, yet, for Lepage, it is an essential and distinguishing feature.
The epic structure of The Seven Streams of the River Ota, comprising seven acts, spanning eight hours, engaging ten actors and actresses in over thirty roles, is matched by an epic thematic. A meeting between a U.S. military photographer surveying the devastation of the first atomic bomb and a woman disfigured by the blast, a hibakusha, initiates a cross-generational series of events that will stretch over the next fifty years and venture across three continents. With scenes set in Hiroshima, a Nazi concentration camp, and a hotel room where one character with AIDS calmly submits to a doctor-assisted suicide, death and destruction figure prominently. At the same time, however, glimmers of rebirth, survival and humour emerge in these and other scenes to render the emotional tenor of the performance difficult to summarize.
Equally epic was the process of creation. The Seven Streams developed over a three-year period by Lepage and his collective Ex Machina, who collaborated on the writing and prolonged evolution of the piece. Stylistically, Lepage incorporated a promethean diversity of staging techniques and theatrical traditions, from bunraku puppetry and kabuki to farce and opera, along with striking effects with film, video, mirrors, screens and shadows. The internationalism of the narrative is reflected in the half-dozen languages spoken in the piece, and reaches a crescendo of literality with the inclusion of an interpreter, complete with headphones and booth, simultaneously translating the characters' dialogue.
Based as it is on the events of Hiroshima and the Holocaust, The Seven Streams cannot help being considered in the context of "anniversary culture." By resisting any overt appeal to commemoration or education, the poetry of the work seems to place it outside of the domain in which the debates on the politics of memory are normally situated. If the goal of many of the recently inaugurated monuments and museums is to make the events of the 1940s resonant to those for whom these events may only exist as distant, historical abstractions, then Lepage achieves a certain measure of success where the efficacy of photographs (however horrific), artifacts (no matter how many or how authentic) and reconstructions (despite their accuracy) remain problematic. Lepage's work operates on a different register than can be engaged solely via the issues of representation or meaning; it is one which implicates diverse layers of experience on the much more emotional and sensorial level of affect.
In some ways Lepage takes up the challenge of what to do after the deconstructive strategies of the avant-garde -- shock, disruption, estrangement, reflexivity -- have been banalized and assimilated into mass cultural style. Viewing The Seven Streams in New York, it is instructive (and perhaps inevitable) to compare it to some of the city's prominent theatrical agitators and innovators. Lepage, for instance, is able to match the visual power of Robert Wilson, the visceral intensity of The Wooster Group and the sudden shifts and dissonances of Richard Foreman, and montage these disparate strategies into a fluid and poignant experience. Yet there is also a striking difference. As Art in Bulk's staging has the tendency now to degenerate into a series of galaxy paintings for sale, the energy of The Wooster Group to verge on a kind of chic sadism and Foreman's paranoid world to collapse upon itself, Lepage's perspective is more generative than critical, recuperating the power of emotional insight, wisdom, and, at the risk of sounding hopelessly uncritical, compassion for the human condition.
While emotion, one could argue, was always present in the avantgarde (of what value was estrangement and perceptual disorientation if it only was experienced intellectually?), Lepage's theatre of the senses evokes it in such a way that one might qualify it oxymoronically as a "radical absorption." That is, the work absorbs its spectators in a compelling emotional experience and, at the same time, comments upon and decenters its power to do so from inside the experience itself. Although Lepage is not the only thaumaturge elevating pathopoeia (the Greek term for creating or soliciting emotion) from a minor rhetorical strategy to a central dramatic experience, his work is a particularly moving call for the reconsideration of emotionality. Absorption may appear to be the opposite of politicized dissonance, to be an audience position of passivity and suggestibility rather than one of agency and volition. The Seven Streams is, by turns, too slow, too novel, too surreal to be mindlessly digested. Under Lepage's direction absorption does not equate with "hypnosis"; it assumes complex, even critical dimensions.
If "compassion" and "emotionality" are difficult words to write, let alone attempt to theorize as challenging vehicles of aesthetic engagement, it is due to their disreputable association with Victorian sentimentality, escapist popular culture and techniques of manipulation, not to mention occupying the inferior binary position to "will" and "rationality." Critics have rightfully assailed the ideological assumptions underpinning some blunt appeals to the emotions, especially in the realm of politics and advertising, yet at what point do these analyses foreclose the positivity of emotion altogether? Admittedly, Lepage's work plays across a range of charged issues, of which emotionality is but one. Yet it is in regard to the politics of the emotions that he inspires a subtle and radical discussion.
The epic structure of The Seven Streams of the River Ota, comprising seven acts, spanning eight hours, engaging ten actors and actresses in over thirty roles, is matched by an epic thematic. A meeting between a U.S. military photographer surveying the devastation of the first atomic bomb and a woman disfigured by the blast, a hibakusha, initiates a cross-generational series of events that will stretch over the next fifty years and venture across three continents. With scenes set in Hiroshima, a Nazi concentration camp, and a hotel room where one character with AIDS calmly submits to a doctor-assisted suicide, death and destruction figure prominently. At the same time, however, glimmers of rebirth, survival and humour emerge in these and other scenes to render the emotional tenor of the performance difficult to summarize.
Equally epic was the process of creation. The Seven Streams developed over a three-year period by Lepage and his collective Ex Machina, who collaborated on the writing and prolonged evolution of the piece. Stylistically, Lepage incorporated a promethean diversity of staging techniques and theatrical traditions, from bunraku puppetry and kabuki to farce and opera, along with striking effects with film, video, mirrors, screens and shadows. The internationalism of the narrative is reflected in the half-dozen languages spoken in the piece, and reaches a crescendo of literality with the inclusion of an interpreter, complete with headphones and booth, simultaneously translating the characters' dialogue.
Based as it is on the events of Hiroshima and the Holocaust, The Seven Streams cannot help being considered in the context of "anniversary culture." By resisting any overt appeal to commemoration or education, the poetry of the work seems to place it outside of the domain in which the debates on the politics of memory are normally situated. If the goal of many of the recently inaugurated monuments and museums is to make the events of the 1940s resonant to those for whom these events may only exist as distant, historical abstractions, then Lepage achieves a certain measure of success where the efficacy of photographs (however horrific), artifacts (no matter how many or how authentic) and reconstructions (despite their accuracy) remain problematic. Lepage's work operates on a different register than can be engaged solely via the issues of representation or meaning; it is one which implicates diverse layers of experience on the much more emotional and sensorial level of affect.
In some ways Lepage takes up the challenge of what to do after the deconstructive strategies of the avant-garde -- shock, disruption, estrangement, reflexivity -- have been banalized and assimilated into mass cultural style. Viewing The Seven Streams in New York, it is instructive (and perhaps inevitable) to compare it to some of the city's prominent theatrical agitators and innovators. Lepage, for instance, is able to match the visual power of Robert Wilson, the visceral intensity of The Wooster Group and the sudden shifts and dissonances of Richard Foreman, and montage these disparate strategies into a fluid and poignant experience. Yet there is also a striking difference. As Art in Bulk's staging has the tendency now to degenerate into a series of galaxy paintings for sale, the energy of The Wooster Group to verge on a kind of chic sadism and Foreman's paranoid world to collapse upon itself, Lepage's perspective is more generative than critical, recuperating the power of emotional insight, wisdom, and, at the risk of sounding hopelessly uncritical, compassion for the human condition.
While emotion, one could argue, was always present in the avantgarde (of what value was estrangement and perceptual disorientation if it only was experienced intellectually?), Lepage's theatre of the senses evokes it in such a way that one might qualify it oxymoronically as a "radical absorption." That is, the work absorbs its spectators in a compelling emotional experience and, at the same time, comments upon and decenters its power to do so from inside the experience itself. Although Lepage is not the only thaumaturge elevating pathopoeia (the Greek term for creating or soliciting emotion) from a minor rhetorical strategy to a central dramatic experience, his work is a particularly moving call for the reconsideration of emotionality. Absorption may appear to be the opposite of politicized dissonance, to be an audience position of passivity and suggestibility rather than one of agency and volition. The Seven Streams is, by turns, too slow, too novel, too surreal to be mindlessly digested. Under Lepage's direction absorption does not equate with "hypnosis"; it assumes complex, even critical dimensions.
If "compassion" and "emotionality" are difficult words to write, let alone attempt to theorize as challenging vehicles of aesthetic engagement, it is due to their disreputable association with Victorian sentimentality, escapist popular culture and techniques of manipulation, not to mention occupying the inferior binary position to "will" and "rationality." Critics have rightfully assailed the ideological assumptions underpinning some blunt appeals to the emotions, especially in the realm of politics and advertising, yet at what point do these analyses foreclose the positivity of emotion altogether? Admittedly, Lepage's work plays across a range of charged issues, of which emotionality is but one. Yet it is in regard to the politics of the emotions that he inspires a subtle and radical discussion.
Monday, June 27, 2016
The city, alternately expanding and decomposing
The city, alternately expanding and decomposing, is taken up and abstracted in the nearby work 36 Planes of Emotion (2011), which is made up of differently coloured, transparent planes of Plexiglas and assembled so as to evoke a mass of buildings along a landscape. A skilful use of lighting emphasizes the porous canvas paintings, perhaps pointing towards the many kinds of art paintings mixing that characterize living in cities, today and in the past. Each component also carries a different laser-etched inscription that is refracted through the planes and casting textual shadows. These poetic fragments, such as "a latitude of languid longings," "a museum of innocent assumptions," and "a rustle of thoughtful lusts," are contrived collective nouns naming states of mind rather than oil paintings. They mimic a familiar grammar but they lack a common currency. But language is like that: shifting, changing, breeding, dying. It is possible that these collective nouns, now articulated, might seep into use to describe a mass of shared emotion.
Moving back into the first exhibition space, the surjective complementary to the fabricated canvas oil paintings is found in the language play of Re-writing on the Wall (2011). Using a series of metallic letterforms mounted on Plexiglas sheets, the piece speaks in the silent tongue of American Sign Language. It portrays a somewhat confusing composition that plays with the space between individuality and one's subsumption into a painting group. For instance, the text proclaims "I surges. We locates a horizon " departing from English into a language of its own where identity or at least its articulation--is the subject of negotiation (or rewriting). And what better place to take up this mutation than within the space of the gallery? In the art world, English is often the shared language, allowing for cross-cultural, globalized communication. In this series of many intersecting microcosms, where so many people who speak English do so in addition to their native tongue, the setting is ripe for hybridity
Identity, power and history--the recurring themes of Surjection--are concepts subject to change. The Rags Media Collective have cultivated these oil paintings through their suggestion of a frame of relationship. However, the contextual narrative of the exhibition is relatively opaque, a series of secrets to be revealed either through guided tours or further research (both of which factor into my reckoning of the show). This space between telling all and playing coy can be productive, as when contextual disassociation nurtures a sustained engagement,3 But here, the chief directive is the exhibition's title, which is itself an empty oil painting. "Surjection" is a machine that cares not for the specific content of the particular instances of its use. Though there may be a logic to laying one set of things onto another set, what is the content of that bridging? What does it do other than create an ordered series of cheap paintings? Optimistically, between the mathematical function and the work's presentation here in Toronto, a space opens up that is ripe for unpredictable translation. Less generously, it's a frustrating, cryptic allusion that shuts down the desire to reach common ground.
Identity, power and history--the recurring themes of Surjection--are concepts subject to change. The Rags Media Collective have cultivated these oil paintings through their suggestion of a frame of relationship. However, the contextual narrative of the exhibition is relatively opaque, a series of secrets to be revealed either through guided tours or further research (both of which factor into my reckoning of the show). This space between telling all and playing coy can be productive, as when contextual disassociation nurtures a sustained engagement,3 But here, the chief directive is the exhibition's title, which is itself an empty oil painting. "Surjection" is a machine that cares not for the specific content of the particular instances of its use. Though there may be a logic to laying one set of things onto another set, what is the content of that bridging? What does it do other than create an ordered series of cheap paintings? Optimistically, between the mathematical function and the work's presentation here in Toronto, a space opens up that is ripe for unpredictable translation. Less generously, it's a frustrating, cryptic allusion that shuts down the desire to reach common ground.
Heterotopia and virtuality
Heterotopia and virtuality are also intertwined in the practice of Vancouver-based artist Steven Shearer. Canada's representative at this year's Venice Biennale, Shearer is best known for his hallucinogenic paintings of metalheads, however, he has also produced series of digital prints that rcpurposc the spontaneous community libraries created by subcultural groups on the Internet. The social dimension of Shearer's subject matter in his "archive" series--which he dubs "proletarian folk art"--suggests parallels with Podesva's heterotopic virtual library.
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