Art

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.dbzer0.com/post/55265768

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.dbzer0.com/post/55392484

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.dbzer0.com/post/55190642

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.dbzer0.com/post/55192749

cross-posted from: https://lemmy.dbzer0.com/post/55109184

In its volumetric forms rendered through contrasting areas of light and dark, this print reflects Liqun’s background in Western-style painting. The subject matter of a new kind of femininity and motherhood, however, is revolutionary. While nursing her baby, the female soldier clad in a uniform listens intently to something outside the picture frame and takes notes. As the title indicates, she is absorbed in a broadcast speech in Yan’an, the Communist power base in northwest China.

Liqun began his artistic career at the China National Art Academy in Hangzhou in 1931. By 1940, he had found his way to Yan’an, where he became an instructor at the Lu Xun Institute of Literature and Art.

-The met

Visiting locations important during the Communist revolution was an integral part of Fu’s study tour. It was considered a crucial “education of revolution.” On October 1 (National Day), the group was in Yan’an, Shaanxi Province, Mao Zedong’s wartime headquarters. Depicted here is Zaoyuan, or the Jujube Garden, near Mao’s residence. Although Fu visited Yan’an in the fall, he chose to illustrate the site in early spring, when the pink color of the blossoms—while the ground was still white with snow—symbolized China’s coming political rebirth.

-the met

Visiting locations important during the Communist revolution was an integral part of Fu’s study tour. It was considered a crucial “education of revolution.” On October 1 (National Day), the group was in Yan’an, Shaanxi Province, Mao Zedong’s wartime headquarters. Depicted here is Zaoyuan, or the Jujube Garden, near Mao’s residence. Although Fu visited Yan’an in the fall, he chose to illustrate the site in early spring, when the pink color of the blossoms—while the ground was still white with snow—symbolized China’s coming political rebirth.

-the met

Balke visited the North Cape only once, in 1832, but the experience became a touchstone of his imagination for the rest of his life. The tenebrous palette and expressive brushwork seen in this moonlit view are characteristic of Balke’s mature style, which stands in contrast to the more restrained naturalism of his mentor Johan Christian Dahl. When this painting (or another version) was exhibited in Oslo in the fall of 1848, a critic wrote that it "claims our interest, both for the nature of the subject itself and the singularity of the perception of the chosen moment."

-the met

Escobedo joined the Taller de Gráfica Popular (TGP) shortly after it was established in 1937. Founded by a group of young printmakers associated with the Mexican Communist Party and the left-wing Partido Popular (People’s Party), the TGP was engaged in numerous campaigns in support of the international popular front against fascism. Working alongside European exiles living in Mexico City and with the full approval of both the Mexican government and the Mexican Communist Party, the TGP began producing posters to advertise the activities of anti-fascist groups. Among these was Escobedo’s El Fascismo, part of a series of posters for conferences on the fascist threat organized by the Liga Pro-Cultura Alemana. It features four men from different classes and cultures linking arms in solidarity.

-the met

This one is for my fellow anarchists. And leftists in general. Love all y'all ❤️

Thats undeniably beautiful. Geometry, shapes and patterns we've airways found beautiful. Thats what survives even in our most experimental styles.

Look at how old this is! 3500 BC, MY GODESS

Vessel in shape of sitting figure; legs out straight, holding prominent penis. Chair has four legs joined by cross bars; high arm rests; painted with diamond pattern.

This image was made at a time when the naturalism of the earlier sculptural tradition was giving way to a greater formality, as artists strove to depict enlightened beings. The elaborate hairstyle, with topknot and hair flowing behind the shoulders, suggests that the sculpture represents Maitreya, the Buddha of the future. This image was once embellished with metal elements—note the iron remains of an attachment in his left ear and the holes for affixing metal decorative elements along edge of his jeweled hair ornament.

-the met

This is among the earliest surviving independent still lifes in European painting. It playfully refers to a celebrated but long-lost work by the fifth-century-BCE Greek painter Zeuxis, who “produced a picture of grapes so successfully represented that birds flew up to it.” This sort of classically-inspired picture appealed to erudite patrons such as Isabella d’Este (1474–1539), marchioness of Mantua, for whom we know Leonelli painted a still life in 1506; he was, in fact, compared to Zeuxis by a scholar writing in 1513.

-The met

In a way the original cubist painting.

I love his blue series. Have previously posted one or two of these too. Search for Picasso in the community for more.

An entire article here with pictures of art in it. Story also about art hence I'm posting this here.

I'm sure y'all have heard of it by now. If you haven't well worth a read. Very interesting.

It shares the same title as a 1782 French novel by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos.

Explores themes of seduction, manipulation, and moral ambiguity. Forever closer to seeing what we want to, but unable to.

This portrait of the actress was painted by her close friend. Her demeanour was described as one of 'vulgar sensuality'.

The dog is a Russian Borzoi, raised for wolf hunting.

She epitomised queer culture and gender fluidity in her time and performed male and female roles to high acclaim!

Including Hamlet.

Her gaze is striking isn't it!

Teppei Takeda stands alone, having painted in obscurity for about a decade at his studio in Yamagata, Japan until he was confident enough in his work to present it to the public. The outside world learned of his talent in the summer of 2016 through his first solo exhibition at Kuguru, a multi-purpose space in the Tongari Building near Yamagata Station. There was no special advertising or publicity, but the ten portraits that he exhibited had such an impact on viewers that the news soon spread, reaching people who would travel to Yamagata from far away to see his works and collectors hoping to buy. Such a development starting in a small regional city was unusual for the Japanese art world, in which information tends to focus on the big cities.

Many people who wondered what was so attractive about Takeda’s art before actually seeing it face to face have found themselves riveted by its powerful presence, which far exceeds any expectations derived from a small photo in an art magazine and images uploaded to social networks. We have to ask exactly what is it that makes Takeda’s art so special in an age when painting has long been declared dead.

The subjects of Takeda’s paintings are people’s faces, so they would be considered portraits, the most standard of painting formats. However, each face being represented is turned into an abstraction through strong brush strokes, and the completed painting takes the form of something that is clearly anonymous, rather than the face of a specific individual. From a slight distance, viewers notice that his portraits are defined by the materiality of firmly applied paint, and then perhaps discern the vividness of the brush strokes, the traces of the flowing strokes of the paint, and the luster of the generous applications of paint that catch the light. This is the format of painting that we are familiar with, and, based on what we already know about painting, these are the sorts of things we expect to see from such a distance. The portrait is already giving off a strong message—the very simple message that one is currently viewing a painting. But then, as the viewer moves closer one step at a time, a deeper understanding emerges, posing the question of what it means to view a painting.

That is definitely not a conceptual issue. Instead, it is profoundly related to the artist’s methodology. Takeda produces his paintings using the following process. He begins with a preliminary sketch (esquisse). The underlying basis of the sketch is an enormous volume of references the artist has assimilated up to that point. That is accompanied by a straightforward, honest adherence to what he currently wants to portray, executed with a degree of extemporaneousness. The artist goes on to paint the same image some twenty to fifty times, but he accepts only one of those images as the subject of his final painting. In other words, a painting that he has produced becomes the subject of his painting. This practice sounds simple, but the process has come about as the result of the emotional struggle that Takeda has faced. This, I feel, is the secret of the strength that can be sensed in his works.

The subsequent creative process is not described here, but as a result of the artist’s long hours of grappling with the initial sketch, the eventual painting enables us to perceive the painterly system and beauty of form, together with the mechanism that moves the viewer emotionally. And through that perception, we come to realize that the aura we had interpreted from a far-off perspective as the texture of the painting was entirely a deliberate creation of the artist—something that should not even exist; created from zero. The final painting is completely different from the sketch, and as such it sheds light on how we relate to paintings.

This thirty-day exhibition presents about ten portraits that Takeda produced over a year and a half. In our post-truth age, these paintings provide a vital demonstration of the significance of taking a close look at what we see.

Text from Maho Kubota Gallery.