The Prettiest Snow Melts the Fastest

Today, this happened in my town.

Credit: C. G. Wagner

Credit: C. G. Wagner

Credit: C. G. Wagner

Credit: C. G. Wagner

love, hosaa
catching snowflakes

Reflections: Art Day Out and Old Friends

Always take the opportunity, when you can, to let art expose itself to you. Downtown for an "informational interview" yesterday, afterwards I found myself once again in the neighborhood of the divine National Museum of Women in the Arts, where I got to visit a few of my old friends - Alice Neel, Frida Kahlo, Elaine de Kooning, Lee Krasner, et al.

I also took more time with some other, iconic pieces in the New York Avenue mansion, including Ellen Day Hale and Lilla Cabot Perry occupying this cozy niche:

Another is Alice Bailly, whose selfie features a peculiar reflection across the lens of her monocle:

Alice Bailly (Swiss, 1872-1938). Self-Portrait, 1917. 

According to the caption, this side of her face is apparently painted out, "reflecting what may be a dissociation of the artist from her own image--in short, an identity crisis." More likely, IMO, it reflects a real reflection, the movement of light across her face at that moment in time. That is, after all, what cubism and the futurist movement were about, incorporating the third and fourth dimensions on flat 2-D surfaces.

But the greatest pleasure is in welcoming some newer (new to me) sisters now exhibiting in the third floor permanent collection, including these sadly sweet kiddies by Amy Sherald:

Amy Sherald (b. 1973, Columbus, Georgia). They Call Me Redbone But I'd Rather Be Strawberry Shortcake, 2009

Amy Sherald (b. 1973, Columbus, Georgia). It Made Sense...Mostly in Her Mind, 2011. 

The captions were helpful to me here; the flattened style was the result of treating the skin tones in "grayscale" (there is some tint, you can see, even in these very poor reproductions. Sorry). The children are dressed playfully, but their somber and expressionless demeanor illustrates a deep-seated sadness. Still, the bright, primary colors in which they "play" give me a sense of innocent hope for them.

The other piece that captivated me at the museum was this (again, playful) Edwina Sandys bronze in its own stairwell niche:

Edwina Sandys (b. 1938, London, England). Flirtation, 1994.

Edwina Sandys (b. 1938, London, England). Flirtation, 1994.

Edwina Sandys (b. 1938, London, England). Flirtation, 1994.

I don't suppose the fact that I'd just had pears and bananas for breakfast had anything to do with why this piece caught my eye! Face it, who doesn't like flirty, birdlike fruit.

The second floor was closed off for between-exhibitions reconfiguring, so my visit was a little shorter than I would have liked. (And when, oh when, will the Mezzanine Cafe ever serve food? Nary a morsel in any of my visits.)

So over the blocks I go toward the Smithsonian American Art Museum to see what's what, and what was what now was the fabulous Richard Estes exhibit. Speaking of old friends! Estes was among the "superrealists" I covered in my senior year seminar on modern art. That was decades ago, and the man is still working his magic!

Okay, I don't want to go to Copyright Jail, so go here to see an example of what Alice Bailly started with that reflection in her monocle:

https://americanart.si.edu/exhibitions/estes

Bus With Reflection of Flatiron Building (1966-67)

Checkout (2012)

What we see are multiple images, reflected, contorted by other, overlapping realities. In many of the images, people are seen from different angles. The effect of the pictures, though serene in tone, is a taut reminder that we not only see, but are seen by others, whose eyes may see us in twists and turns, fractured and filtered through many surfaces.

Love, hosaa

reflecting on art

P.S. - I still love the old Greyhound Bus Station on New York Avenue. The birds loved it, too:

All photos posted here are by C. G. Wagner. If you use them, credit them, and link back here. Thanks.

Flying Art in Bethesda

Back from the Bethesda Row Arts Festival yesterday, going in for day two today. I knew as soon as I saw the flying elephant from last year--and in the same spot along Woodmont Ave.--that I'd be seeing some familiar work this weekend.

Though I was keeping my eye out for new stuff among the wood and fabric and metal and glass works and the photos and paintings, I really did want to check in first to see if Brad Pogatetz was back. And there he was, in the same spot as last year, and with as many folks flocking into his tiny booth as before. (See my previous report, "Art of Devastation.")

Bethesda Row (Maryland) Arts Festival, Oct. 18, 2014 - Brad Pogatetz's booth. Photo by C. G. Wagner

Brad Potatetz (left) takes a break at the Bethesda Row Arts Festival, Oct. 18, 2014. Photo by C. G. Wagner

I got to chat with him briefly, and joked that I thought I could point out the pieces that were new since last year. One of the "devastation" images that caught my eye was the gigantic rusted industrial hook hanging from an abandoned warehouse or factory, shot from below so that the eye traces frayed ropes to the opening in the ceiling above. Brad confirmed that this was a newer image, and he used it on one of his new business cards. (I didn't spot it online, but check out his New Work under Galleries at his site.)

The subjects in Brad's photographs are abandoned human spaces--factories, stadiums, depots. Naturally, I am curious about their stories, but as an artist, Brad is attracted to patterns, colors, lights and shadows.

I asked him if he thought about putting together a book: "Yes!" he replied quickly and brightly. He said he gets asked that question a lot, and I confessed I probably asked him the same thing last year.

Sample business cards, text added.

So, what else is on display? Again, maybe I'm seeing too much of the same thing, and not much stands out anymore. I love the wearable art, the beautiful garments in varieties of fabrics. But it is too tempting to my compromised budget, so I had to pass those booths and admire from afar.

What did stand out were the flying sculptures. Right, mobiles. The Calderesque whimsies by Bud Scheffel cast interesting shadows on the booth's backdrop and soaring silhouettes against the bright blue autumn sky.

Bethesda Row Arts Festival, Oct. 18, 2014 - Bud Scheffel's booth. Photo by C. G. Wagner

Bethesda Row Arts Festival, Oct. 18, 2014 - mobiles by Bud Scheffel. Photo by C. G. Wagner

Bethesda Row Arts Festival, Oct. 18, 2014. Mobile by Bud Scheffel. Photo by C. G. Wagner

On the other side of the street, air space was claimed by another metal artist, Michael Gard, whose balletic forms danced through light and re-created space with their shadows.

Bethesda Row Arts Festival - Oct. 18, 2014. Michael Gard's booth. Photo by C. G. Wagner

Bethesda Row Arts Festival - Oct. 18, 2014. Sculptures by Michael Gard. Photo by C. G. Wagner

Bethesda Row Arts Festival - Oct. 18, 2014. Sculptures by Michael Gard. Photo by C. G. Wagner

Love, hosaa

Looking up, seeing dance

Second Glance - DIY: Folger Day

Well dang, I buy the paper today and the "Second Glance" puzzle isn't included. So once again, I'm doing-it-myself.

Here's one of my pictures from last week's open house at Folger Shakespeare Library for the Bard's 450th Birthday. Find 12 differences in the second picture. The third picture includes the key, but don't cheat!

To get a better view, download the images to your own computer. Right-click and select "open in new tab," click again to enlarge, and save.

Answers:
1 - Find the boyfriend!
2 - Five cents?
3 - Move over
4 - De-ugly sweater
5 - Ropeless
6 - Stripey socks alteration
7 - Something smells fishy
8 - Cracked marble
9 - Turtle waves!
10 - Shadowless
11 - Colored collar
12 - What watch, Mickey?

Haiku: Morning

Morning

Memories and dreams

evaporate, making way

as new moments wake.

-----------------------

Annotation: This is slightly revised from the version I posted on Facebook yesterday, but it still doesn't quite satisfy. Due to an unexplained shift in my REM cycle, I've been dreaming closer to when I'm supposed to wake up, so the images are lasting longer. The music and news from the radio alarm mix themselves into a dream-soundtrack, and I remember my dream images of crashing planes and refugees.

The thing about dreams and memories is that they play on the same psychic field. Am I remembering that correctly, or did I dream it? As I've gotten older, I'm finding it harder to remember my dreams. I'm finding it harder to remember my memories. I'm sad when I forget the song I composed and sang in a dream, but I'm sadder when I forget experiences that really happened. 

The time between both dreams and experiences and their evaporation is getting shorter with the amount of time ahead for new ones to wake.

love, hosaa

remembering dreams, at least temporarily.

Garden art, Strathmore Mansion (Bethesda). Credit: C. G. Wagner

Art of Devastation

I loaded up a little too much on experiences today and probably won't say all I want to. Rather than delay (i.e., procrastinate long enough to forget), here goes.

First discovery this weekend was the photography of Brad Pogatetz, on display with a ton of other artists of various media at the annual Bethesda Art Festival just down the street from me. Brad's booth was the only one that really caught my eye as I wandered through yesterday.

Brad Pogatetz. Credit: C. G. Wagner

I don't want to disparage the various sculptors, fiber manipulators, glass blowers, jewelry makers, wood workers, painters, and what not, but I just wasn't captivated as I was with Brad's reflections on abandoned and decaying artifacts of civilization.

The subject matter may not be unique or new; what drew me to Brad's booth was that his work reminded me of the piece I recently saw in the Huffington Post on the photographs of Detroit's abandoned theaters. Unlike the more documentary approach of Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre, Brad seeks patterns and light, color and humor, in his subjects. And he finds hope. He doesn't document our despair only to abandon us again. He rescues our humanity from what we have left behind, what we have let happen to us.

My next stop today was the Portrait Gallery to see the "Dancing the Dream" exhibit, detouring through "Democracy of Images" photography exhibit at Smithsonian's American Art Museum. More on these later. My real destination for the day was Ford's Theater's production of The Laramie Project.

The Laramie Project, cast. Photo by Carol Rosegg (via Facebook)

I've already covered Ford's "Not Alone" exhibition of the letters that came in response to Matthew Shepard's brutal murder 15 years ago. I was prepared to be just as moved, but the play was more powerful than I expected, even knowing what it was about.

Like the photographs by Brad Pogatetz, the artists composing The Laramie Project began with the beauty of the Wyoming landscape, journeyed through horrific inhumanity, to eventually end again in beauty and hope, with Dennis Shepard's epiphany that Matthew did not die alone. He died with his friends: the stars, the sun, and God.

As for the production: The dramatization of interviews gave Laramie the same kind of staging as shows I've previously discussed, like ReEntry, wherein the actors do very little acting with each other. That staging normally drives me bats, but it worked for this production because, as one of the interviewees kept reminding the troupe of actors who came to tell their story, "You have to tell it correct." The goal was to convey the townspeople's stories in their own words, and that was how it was staged.

Holly Twyford, Kimberly Schraf in The Laramie Project. Photo by Carol Rosegg

One other great thing (for me) was to see Kimberly Gilbert in another role so soon after The Beauty Queen of Lenane over at Round House. It wasn't her fault I hated the play. I just hated the play.

Kimberly Gilbert in The Laramie project. Photo by Carol Rosegg

Kimberly was just one of a very strong cast that slid fluidly among multiple roles--townspeople, media invaders, and the members of the Tectonic Theater Project (led by Moisés Kaufman). We are all the observer and the observed. Tell the truth, correctly, and our humanity will prevail.

The Laramie Project, Ford's Theater, Washington, D.C.
Written by Moisés Kaufman and the Members of Tectonic Theater Project
Directed by Matthew Gardiner

Cast
Kimberly Gilbert 
Mitchell Hébert
Paul Scanlan 
Kimberly Schraf
Chris Stezin 
Katherine Renee Turner
Holly Twyford
Craig Wallace

Scenic Design: Beowulf Boritt
Costume Design: Helen Huang
Lighting Design: Rui Rita
Original Music and Sound Design: John Gromada
Projection Design: Clint Allen

Fair Days Out

Just a quick note to share a little bit of video from last week's visit to the National Zoo and yesterday's visit to the Montgomery County Fair.


I admit to being disappointed that I didn't get myself up to Maine this summer to see my Clay Aiken performing. It would be nice to take a major vacation anyway, but since I can't, these little outdoor excursions remind me what summer's all about. They made me miss my family.

The music for the video, in case you don't recognize it, is Travis Tritt, in performance at the Birchmere last June. I just finally got around to finding a use for my Travis clack! (A memento from a great night out with cousins.)

And, a reminder to catch Clay on the revived Arsenio Hall show (hopefully in the first week):

Keane at the Strathmore

The fact that I'm about a week and a half late in reporting this is somewhat telling. My friend really wanted to go to the Keane concert at our favorite concert hall, the Strathmore, and needed a buddy to go with her.

I know nothing about Keane, though she insisted I probably had heard their music at some point in my life. There's a pet food commercial that has licensed one of their tunes, I believe.

Anyway, the opening band was louder, but Keane had better production. The lead singer was a cutie, there was a backbeat, and the place was packed. Everyone stood except for us little old ladies. We slid over to a side section to rest our backs.

The show was enjoyable. Glad I went. I still haven't picked up the "Thank You" download from the little postcard, though. Amazon link to the album Strangeland

Since I wasn't all that into the music (no objections to it), I spent my time experimenting with the settings on my camera, in preparation for the next Clay Aiken tour. *biggrin*

As you can see from the results below, the high-sensitivity setting on my old Lumix is very noisy. I bought a new camera yesterday and hope for better results at the next event I need to cover in low light.

KEANE at the Strathmore (Bethesda, MD), June 14, 2012
Click to enlarge. All photos by C. G. Wagner / Hosaa's Blog. Please credit if used!

   

  

    

Catch-up and Updates

Gee, whatever happened to December? Below the fold is my Holiday/Christmas letter to the family.

Somehow I missed posting my recap of Round House Theatre's Pride and Prejudice. It was great fun, despite the Washington Post's predictably negative review. It was set in a whimsical toy box whose trim cabinets reveal changes of scenery that, except for the decor in the interiors, weren't all that different. The ladies also wore strikingly similar gowns (my friend thought they looked too much like nightgowns), making some of the characters hard to distinguish. (Not all sisters are that interchangeable.)

What I really enjoyed was the swift pacing through the domestic and romantic joyrides and the genuine catch of tears brought on by self-awareness when Elizabeth realizes her prejudice against Darcy was unfounded.

I also took another visit to the National Museum of Women in the Arts, with my same Pride and Prejudice friend. It was fun to finally show off some of my favorite venues (RHT and NMWA) with someone else besides my dear readers here!

I got a second chance to snap some of my favorite pieces in the collection:

Four Seated Figures, 2002, by Magdalena Abakanowicz (Polish, b. 1930)

Carrie Pease Graham, 1895, by Elisabet Ney (German, 1833-1907), with Mary Cassatt's Portrait of Katherine Cassatt, 1905, in the background)

Photographs by Louise Dahl-Wolfe (American, 1895-1989)

But in the exhibit of Asian-inspired art, where I fell in love with a new artist, no photography was allowed. Fortunately, there was a book! But unfortunately, I didn't do a very good job of scanning the picture. Anyway, I share with you the lovely work of Lilian May Miller, and her Monet haystacks-inspired Fujiyama:

Moonlight and Sunrise (respectively) at Fujiyama, Japan (both 1928), lovingly photographed from the book Between Two Worlds: The Life and Art of Lilian May Miller by Kendall H. Brown (exhibition catalog published by Pacific Asia Museum, Pasadena, 1998). Note, I bought the book at the NMWA gift shop. It's not available via Amazon, but I found it at Alibris.

Part of the joy of the outing back to NMWA, which happened the day after Thanksgiving, was continuing my chase of the ginkgo. I had been seeing ginkgo leaves throughout Bethesda this fall, but as far as I could find, there were no ginkgo trees in my neighborhood. I knew there were ginkgoes downtown, and sure enough, there they were around Metro Center, their bright yellow fans aglow in the autumn noon.

And finally, just because I like it, the Art Deco (former) bus station on New York Avenue:

All photos by C. G. Wagner. Fair use principles apply: please give credit!

FOLD (below which, my annual holiday letter to the family)

DECEMBER 2011

GREETINGS from the beginning of a cold and damp holiday season! I hope you are warm, snug, and filled with good cheer.

This year found me wandering very little beyond my own neighborhood, and the 10-block walk between apartment and office was my principal means of exercise. Work kept me pretty busy in my new role as editor of THE FUTURIST. In January, I got to meet with the former Haitian ambassador, who brought a small contingent of supporters to our office on the anniversary of the devastating earthquake. They had come to the World Future Society seeking support for rebuilding their nation, which was at that time nervously awaiting a presidential-election runoff. It was humbling to be asked for such support and it helped us to be able to articulate our own mission as an organization.

Another interesting byproduct of my new position was that I was invited to be interviewed for the Grinnell alumni magazine--again, an opportunity to clarify what futurists do and why. (And why I, who am so risk-averse and change-resistant, am somehow the voice of futurism! Hee!)

And if this wasn’t enough “greatness” thrust upon me, I was also asked to take over the leadership of my Shakespeare Readers group! In an effort to increase membership, I’ve reached out to other Shakespeare fans on a MeetUp group and created an official Shakespeare Readers blog: shakespearereaders.blogspot.com.

The only traveling I did this year was—as usual—either work or Clay related. The annual WFS conference was in Vancouver in July, and fortunately I was able to get out and see the neighborhood around our hotel a little bit. It’s a beautiful city, which I hadn’t seen since the World’s Fair in 1986.

The Clay Aiken trip of the year was out to Texas in March, where I got to visit with friends Chris, Debbie, Sheila, Jill, Mary, and Gary, along with an assortment of other ladies I’ve met at other concerts over the years. Much fun!

And yes, I finally did get to meet the man himself, fleetingly, at the meet-and-greet event in Towson, Maryland! With more than 40 fans there, herded along brusquely to get our pictures snapped with Clay, the event was more aptly described as a meet-and-moo. But Clay was in beautiful voice that night and turned the technical mishaps (lighting miscues and strange audio set-up) into high comedy.

Speaking of meet-and-greets, I got to see my favorite jazz singer, Nnenna Freelon, twice this year (well, the first time was New Year’s Eve last year), and also American Ballet Theater featured dancer Daniil Simkin, who had a slightly smaller crowd competing for his attention than Clay did.

I’ve continued to enjoy the productions at Round House and Ford’s theaters and the Strathmore Music Center. A very special outing to Ford’s in April was the rollicking musical Liberty Smith, which was all the more fun for sharing the experience with my brother Mike and sister-in-law Wanda and my cousin Bob and his wife Mary. During their visit we also got to do some “typical tourist” stuff, enjoying the cherry blossoms, museums, memorials, and monuments. And, of course, the D.C. parking challenge.

I spent Thanksgiving with good friends Suzanne and David Waters, who have treated me to so many Sunday dinners that I decided to splurge and take them to one of my favorite “family” restaurants, Ruth’s Chris. Yummo!

My New Year’s resolution is to finally get my apartment into visitor-friendly condition. So ya’ll come on down! (But hey, please call first!)

[End of letter]

I haven't monetized this blog yet, and I receive no royalties, commissions, or kickbacks from anything I mention here. But since I am particularly proud of the photography calendar I made for 2012, I'll include a link to it on Snapfish. You need to have an account at Snapfish to view, but you'll be able to customize and order it if you like:

2012 Calendar: Photography by C. G. Wagner

Maybe next year I'll figure out how to monetize. Till then, enjoy!