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