I thanked my stars for:

Even having a home to get locked out of.
Financial security.
My clients for placing faith in my skills and services.
My brother for helping me get kicked started.

On display at Mémoires du futur, was an abundance of wonderful artwork from artists like Cindy Sherman, Breughel and Durer, Hirst and the Chapman Brothers, Robert Capa, Pierre et Gilles.  The range was huge, yet all carried a common theme – the macabre and morbid, the grotesque and that in ways was present throughout, and that, at times, made it difficult to view. Yet it was a somewhat morbid fascination that is not only a personal trait (I know this to be true), that made it hard to turn away. (Some notes from the exhibition PDF 1 PDF2)

Olbricht’s chosen theme was more clearly emphasised by the inclusion of the  ”Vanitas”. Vanitas, though it’s not new to me in concept, I did not however realise there was a specific term or artistic genre devoted specifically to this idea. Vanitas as a theme in art is most commonly associated with Dutch and Flemish painters, but we can also now find more contemporary artists experimenting with the still life that celebrates the skull displayed alongside objects of beauty or objects that signify wealth e.g rich food or bottles of fine wine. Damien Hirst made For the Love of God. An ironic suggestion that the only way to achieve wealth, is to look inside oneself? Or perhaps to quite simply die where our wealth is found through freedom of spirit. Or was he just making an object of beauty and desire, to remind us only the rich may revel in such possessions. Whenever I view it I am certainly reminded of my place.

Paintings executed in the vanitas style are meant as a reminder of the transience of life, the futility of pleasure, and the certainty of death. They also provided a moral justification for many paintings of attractive objects.

Most pleasantly I was introduced to two new inspiring women artists: Kate MccGwire (this post on HiFructose sums it up well) whose work I found unnerving and mildly discomforting, why I cannot say. The beauty of the feathers contrast against both the oversized slug-like or monstrous form and in some cases the horrid point of the quill which once pierced flesh. Some more of her work

Kate MccGwire

Kate MccGwire

Julie Hefferman also caught my imagination, Art Attack Online offer a good sample of her work though not really allowing it the kind of justice the full size paintings afford. Self portraits always win me over.

I was also very happy to see current work by Australian artist Patricia Piccinini who I briefly studied whilst at University late 90s. More of the grotesque, Patricia was one of the first prevalent Australian based digital artists, employing computer rendering to create odd little monsters I remember the large scale work of Sophie Lee cradling one happily like it was her baby. The billboard size print of this welcomed visitors who had just disembarked from a possible 24 hour journey to Sydney’s Kingsford Smith Airport. It was in the walk between the aeroplane and passport control. I found that a really odd choice for an initial representation of Australian culture. Piccinini has now moved on from the printed media and creates life like monsters instead. Disarming and alarming, I could not look for very long. Here is her website with a great summary of her work and statement Patricia Piccinini

Patricia Piccinini

I also enjoyed the collection of unusual curiosities; butterflies and beetles and rhinoceros horns, tortoise shells – some incredible examples of nature’s natural aesthetics.

MN from fun bubble on Vimeo.

Thanks Dangerous Minds

Tonight I walked the long way to pick up Oliver from school, following the river through the forest. The song JF and I got married to accompanied me on the ipod ( 4 years today I love you immensely x) The sky was bright and there were beautiful streaks of peach, crimson and red cloud. The moon was crisp and almost full – it sat like a giant silver disc against a dark blue night and I could see part of the man in it. I was cold, my nose was frozen but, I was happy to be there.

A little hunched back lady walked towards me approaching from a path opposite, about 50 meters to my left. As I watched her the sky filled with ravens, they settled around her on the ground and the trees above her. As she continued walking, they stayed behind and started crowing. She turned and yelled something to them, I couldn’t quite make out what she said. It was a bizarre sight.

I came to the Lac Dausmenil with about 15 minutes to spare and I sat in the light of the moon and watched a second hunched back lady feeding breadcrumbs to about a dozen white swans. She was taunting them in French. Swans are feisty and they fought each other for their share of bread.  Lac Dausmenil is magic. I have a short video of it I will post it maybe.

I was late to pick up Oliver. We came home, he played Skylanders while I cooked and he then fell asleep at the table whilst we ate dinner.

We are both still jet lagged.

The song JF and I got married to Awakening of a Woman by Cinematic Orchestra

The exhibition was supposed to be quite shocking but I guess because I’ve seen alot of the work before in books or wherever, they lost some of the shock value. For me the most confronting was the series of bombs.

Raphaël Dallaporta, from the Antipersonnel series

Raphaël Dallaporta‘s landmines come in all shapes and guises. They are framed and lighted like precious jewelry, French perfumes or rare beetles. It’s only when you look at the labels that accompany them that you realize they are instruments of death and dismemberment. “The US is the country that does the most to remove landmines,” explained the photographer, noting the source of one of them. “But the US is also a big manufacturer of them. Imagine a cigarette manufacturer being praised for making nicotine patches.” We Make Money Not Art

It definitely looked to me like the wealthier countries had the prettier bombs.

I really liked Bruce Davidson‘s series East 100th Street, but I did not like the sleazy looking man with a video camera hogging the space in front and around them so was not able to immerse myself as much as I would liked to have. I’d not heard of Bruce but will definitely come back to him and that series, I am a self confessed voyeur so I find photos providing a peek into another’s home and immediate environment, compelling.

Thanks to We Make Money Not Art for the links and stuff. I’ve missed loads that I really loved but I forgot my pen and notebook so didn’t take note. Oh, the bodybuilders collaged with the butterflies, superb! And always a pleasure to see a Pierre et Gilles. As always, after I have left an exhibition I immediately want to go back for a second look.

More pics if you fancy clicking through but are of an ‘erotic’ nature so may not appeal to some…..

Bill Brandt

Claude Alexandre, Untitled, 1982. From the series Fétiche, 1980 - 1989

Anyway I won’t pretend I was not flattered, she was my favourite childhood TV character, (besides Jeannie) I only watched Bewitched in the off chance that Serena would make an appearance. Anyway, I was reminded how fascinated I was by the similarity between Samantha and Serena, believing they were twins. Visual trickery of the late 60s really had me fooled.

A king had a beautiful wife and a rich castle, including a marvelous donkey whose droppings were gold. One day his wife died, after making him promise not to marry except to a woman whose beauty and attributes equaled hers. The king grieved, but was, in time, persuaded to seek another wife. It became clear that the only woman who would fit the promise was his own daughter.

She went to her fairy godmother who advised her to make impossible demands as a condition of her consent: a dress the color of the sky, a dress the color of the moon, a dress as bright as the sun, and finally, the hide of his marvelous donkey. Such was the king’s desire to marry her that he granted all of them. The fairy godmother gave her a marvelous chest to contain all she owned and told her that the donkeyskin would make an excellent disguise.
She fled. Eventually, she found a royal farm where they let her work in the kitchen, despite her ugliness in the donkeyskin. On feast days, she would dress herself in the fine gowns her father had given her, and one such day, the prince came by her room and peeped through the keyhole. He fell in love at once, fell ill with his longing, and declared that nothing would cure him but a cake baked by Donkeyskin, and nothing they could say of what a dirty creature she was dissuaded him.

When Donkeyskin baked the cake, a ring of hers fell in it. The prince found it and declared that he would marry only the woman whose finger it fit. Every other woman having failed, he insisted that Donkeyskin try, and it fit. When she had dressed herself in her fine gowns, his parents were reconciled with the match. Donkey-skin later found that her father had remarried to a beautiful widow and everyone lived happily ever after.

My favourite scene from the film was the Masquerade Ball of Birds and Cats (complete with Pig Orchestra) at around 2:43

Rachel Myers-Calvo, living in Paris, France with child and husband.

I kept a diary from the age of 10 and a visual diary from about 16. In the last 5 years I have LOST them all and it is an X files mystery as to where they might be. I fret about them every so often.

The online diary or “blog” part of this site is a resource that I am using to record purely POSITIVE thoughts, so that I can refer back to them when I am feeling not-so-positive. It is also for imagery that I come across; a place to record inspiring artists and people. I’ll be documenting places I have been and exhibitions I have seen. Adventures and experiences, the ones I always have in memory but of which I always forget the finer details.

It’s also to display my own digital photo album which sits in a folder on my computer and is barely ever opened. Access to that will be password only – my birthdate in numbers.