Untitled Interior (Blizzard)

As I browsed the Fraction sale early last month, the print by Sarah Malakoff "Untitled Interior (Blizzard)" caught my eye.  The photograph has a magic and intrigue that I knew could hold my interest over the longterm.  After a hint to my husband ("hint" being an emailed link), I received the signed print as a Christmas gift, even more captivating in person.

In a different light…

The print is from a series by Malakoff of untitled interiors.  From her website about the series: "Boundaries between inside and outside, shelter and vulnerability, the real and the imagined all become blurred. Malakoff’s formally precise compositions set the stage for viewers to imagine the characters that reside within.”

Today I find myself curled up by the window, watching snow pile...

…grateful for the very real boundary between inside and outside.

Vivian Maier at the Chicago History Museum

One of my Christmas presents, the new book Vivian Maier: Self-Portraits, reminded me of a trip I took to the Chicago History Museum last winter for their gorgeous Vivian Maier photography exhibit.  Sadly, the exhibit is now long gone, but I remember it vividly: strikingly arranged, huge panels floating in the middle of the room, creating a maze of black and white beauty.     

And some more scenes from the History Museum that day.  

I took these pictures with my Nikon FM and Ilford Delta 3200 - kicking myself for not brining my Rollei.

And here I am having some fun with reflections and Vivian Maier: Self Portraits.

If you do not yet know of Vivian Maier, you are in for a treat.

Time with my mom

My mom visited Chicago last week and I was so excited.  First I took her to The Drake for afternoon tea and champagne.

Then we went to the Art Institute (where I am now a member) to look at her favorite Impressionists.

And I cooked a Thanksgiving feast.  (I love putting on my apron!)

{photos: nikon f100 and fuji pro 400h}

I took these photos with color film, Fuji Pro 400H, but the drugstore scans rendered the colors so poorly, I converted to B&W.  (Sadly, the photography store with high-quality one-hour developing just went out of business.)  One can never go wrong with B&W.

Beasts of the Southern Wild

I recently went to the theater with a group of friends to see Beasts of the Southern Wild, knowing nothing about the film, and found myself thinking, where in the world did this movie come from?  Amazing.  Haunting, thrilling, surprising, compassionate.

The production quality and artistry of the film are high, even though the budget was low, which shows how deeply everyone cared, especially the 29-year-old director. The cinematography is gorgeous, shot on 18 mm film with lovely color, tones, and graininess.

The film centers on a father and daughter who live off the grid on a small Louisiana island.  The little girl who plays the heroine is a pure natural - she gave an amazing performance.  The story could be criticized for romanticizing poverty, sustenance living, and even alcoholism, but I see the film as acknowledging the beauty unique to a certain lifestyle and the dignity of the people who live it.  Plus, I am a bit of a romantic myself when it comes to art, so I give a lot of leeway to a story told with beauty and passion.  If you can find this film at a theater near you, I highly recommend watching it on the big screen.  

Polaroid Portraits of Friends

This morning I was out with my friends Chika and Holly when we got caught in a thunderstorm.  Chika's apartment was nearby, so we ducked in to wait out the storm with wine and watermelon. 

Large windows brought in beautiful light and I happened to have my Mamiya 645 Pro with Polaroid back, so I took some pictures.  

Chika:

Holly:

I also got a couple of rolls with my Mamiya film back and Rolleiflex TLR.  I look forward to getting those developed.  

Holly shared with us the idea behind her current art project and I talked about my vague ideas for a photographic project.  Lots to think about.  Yay for creative, smart, supportive friends (and for natural window light)!

Dear Stranger

This week, I saw a new exhibit at Chicago's Museum of Contemporary Art, Skyscraper: Art and Architecture Against Gravity.  A small part of the exhibit was three photographs from the project "Dear Stranger" by artist Shizuka Yokomizo.  For this project, Yokomizo made portraits of residents in ground floor apartments in Berlin, New York, Tokyo and London from outside their windows.  The twist is that she did not know these people; she simply left notes on their doors.

Dear Stranger,
I am an artist working on a photographic project which involves people I do not know...I would like to take a photograph of you standing in your front room from the street in the evening.

The notes went on to state a date and time for the person to stand in front of the window - alone - or draw the curtains to show refusal to participate.  Because she took the photos in the dark, the people could not see her, only their own reflections in the windows.

Studying the portraits, I imagine the mixed emotions the subjects must have been feeling.  This idea is fascinating to me and makes me want to begin a photographic project, to go beyond documenting whatever happens to be in front of me.

Lichtenstein at the Art Institute

The best experiences with art are those that take you by surprise.  Yesterday a new friend invited me along to see the temporary Lichtenstein retrospective exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago; my motive for accepting the invitation was to spend time with her at the beautiful museum.  As for Lichtenstein himself, I was lukewarm.  I knew he was a pop artist and I have never been crazy about that particular movement.

This is the kind of work that came to mind at the name Lichtenstein.

His play on gender norms in popular comics is clever, but had never moved me.

Surprisingly, the exhibit affected me powerfully. I found the work captivating, interesting, and sometimes even beautiful.  Giving time over to the works in a museum setting was the best way to appreciate them - radically different from the scrolling, scrolling, scrolling that the internet encourages.  The canvases are huge and their full impact can be felt and artistry understood only on that large scale.  The biggest factor in my appreciation of Lichtenstein, however, came simply from learning about and contemplating his background, intentions, context.

I am a word person: reading an explanation enhances my visual (or auditory, in the case of music) experience.  Upon entering every room at the exhibit, I immediately read the introductions.

A prime example of the power of words on top of art is the Brushstroke series.  Looking at the canvas does little for me emotionally, but reading his intention engaged my intellect.  He said that a brushstroke in traditional painting is a grand gesture, but in this series the brushstroke is a depiction of a grand gesture.  

I enjoyed the sense of play and affection that he brought to other styles of art, such as the work below of traditional Chinese art and others reflecting and commenting on the Matisse and Picasso styles.  This one, Landscape with Lone Philosopher, affected me deeply as I gazed at the half-wall panel.  Unfortunately, the power and sublimity does not come through this little jpeg.  

My favorite Lichtenstein series came one year before his death in 1997 - obliterating brushstrokes.  He said these visions came to him in a dream.  The visual impact alone is strong, but combined with the thought of an elderly man near death painting it from his dreams - obliterating - is enough to move me to tears.

This experience reinforced for me the importance of never discounting an experience, person, or artist before giving the time and effort to learn more and truly consider the merit.  I am grateful for the opportunity to do so with Lichtenstein.  After experiencing the exhibit, I am inspired to seek out new forms of beauty in my photography - and in life.

You can read more about Lichtenstein's work and the Art Institute's retrospective here.

Cat Naps

Both cats and naps are major parts of my life. I have three cats and I would nap daily, if practical.  Napping with my cats is the pinnacle of contentment.  So when I saw this cat nap print by Yelena Bryksenkova on Design Sponge, I decided to bring the illustration into my home.  

My cats are even more hardcore nappers than I am.  Direct sunlight, sitting up, no problem! 

Upon receiving the print in the mail, I was very pleased with the high quality and immediately walked to the art supply store for a frame.  Now the print is hanging in my living room and I may add another of Yelena's illustrations soon, perhaps the kitchen print.

Making my condo a personal home, one small step at a time.

{photos: nikon fm2 and kodak ektar 100 film}