MOMA

I went to the MOMA on Sunday, which is where this new painting in the banner is from. It's entitled Gaea by Lee Krasner (American, 1908-1984) 1966. Oil on canvas, and it's large at 69" x 10' 5 1/2" (175.3 x 318.8 cm). The colors are much more vivid in person.

My companion and I went through the museum pretending it was a store, contemplating whether or not to purchase each piece of art/furniture and in which room we'd display/use them in our houses (I stole this idea from a friend who lived in the city last Spring). Ugly or slightly disturbing items were relegated to the second guest bedroom, but we were both stumped as to where to place the brass boat propeller. (Master bath??) After the museum closed, we went to the MOMA store and did the same thing, except every object on display there was actually for sale -- and they were each just as clever as their counterparts in the real museum.

Some other paintings from the MOMA under consideration for the banner:

 

Girl with Ball, Roy Lichtenstein (American, 1923-1997) 1961. 

Oil and synthetic polymer paint on canvas, 60 1/4 x 36 1/4" (153 x 91.9 cm). 

   

No. 3/No. 13, Mark Rothko (American, born Latvia. 1903-1970) 1949. 

Oil on canvas, 7' 1 3/8" x 65" (216.5 x 164.8 cm).

  

Mark Rothko. No. 10. 1950. 

Oil on canvas, 7' 6 3/8" x 57 1/8" (229.6 x 145.1 cm).  

     

Shimmering Substance, Jackson Pollock (American, 1912-1956) 1946. 

Oil on canvas, 30 1/8 x 24 1/4" (76.3 x 61.6 cm).

They're all so much more beautiful in person. Maybe the next banner! Can you tell what my favorite two colors are?

Tim Burton at MoMA

I was in NYC this past weekend and got a chance to see the Tim Burton exhibit at the MoMA. It felt like I was at a chaotic circus (probably intentional) but I also was quite disturbed. Having seen a documentary about Disney animators that included footage of Burton as a young, awkward, and, quite frankly, creepy-looking animator, I appreciate of how creative and talented any cartoonist/director/illustrator/drawer is.

With Burton, however, everything has some sort of disturbed, cynical or morbid edge--it's very distinct and apparent in any of his work, but walking into that exhibit, I was almost overwhelmed by it. It almost felt like I was going into some sick child's room where he goes to torture puppies. Some of the drawings were beautifully grotesque, others were charming, and still others were humorous. But never was there any joy. It's amazing how teenage torment could provide so much fodder for Burton--he is incredibly prolific and aware of human reaction and emotion.

Burton is hauntingly clairvoyant.

Go see the exhibit (but not on the weekend because it was a MADHOUSE even when I went on a Monday morning).

Dreams Of Burton

I want to go to the MoMA and see this Tim Burton's retrospective. When I was at TFF, I saw a collection of drawings (they were photocopied, but still very cool) that Fellini did called Fellini's Dreams. Very whimsical and intriguing.

I saw a documentary at TFF about Disney animation and its revival in the 90's. Footage was put together from the goofy animators in their office, pre-Little Mermaid and such. Captured among the many staff members was Burton, a scruffy, dark-haired man who was so pale he looked like he hadn't left the studio in ages. Which, at that point, he probably hadn't because this was before he started his own production company and such. Anyway, check out these pictures and read the article in NYMag.