quinta-feira, 30 de abril de 2015
quarta-feira, 29 de abril de 2015
Seres humanos engolidos pela Geometria da Arquitectura
O trabalho do fotógrafo libanês Serge Najjar mostra uma impressionante mistura de cores vibrantes e uma geometria arquitectónica gritante.
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terça-feira, 28 de abril de 2015
A Natureza das Coisas: argila, Paus e pedras de Daisy Youngblood
Em 2003, Daisy Youngblood coletactou o seu prêmio MacArthur e fugiu para a Costa Rica. As esculturas em seu solo atual na McKee Gallery, Daisy Youngblood: Dez Anos 2006-2015. Thomas Micchelli escreve sobre a escultura de Daisy Youngblood , cujos trabalhos em vigor abrangem dez anos de seu trabalho ", um ménage de animais e seres humanos, argila e de cabelo, pedras e paus, onde o mítico é extraído a partir da escória da terra."
segunda-feira, 27 de abril de 2015
From Calder to Kruger, the New Whitney Museum’s First Show
by Jillian Steinhauer on April 23, 2015
America Is Hard to See delivers on many of its promises: to “present fresh perspectives on the Whitney’s collection,” to show “all mediums … together without hierarchy,” to “challenge assumptions about the American art canon.” These things do often come true in an installation that draws you into its artworks and its story, making you want to linger.
The show is structured both traditionally and not. That is to say, it runs chronologically — beginning on the top floor with the playing out of European modernism in the US in the early 20th century — and it also runs thematically by gallery (titles include “Forms Abstracted,” for the aforementioned modernism, and “Large Trademark,” for Pop art). This, although quite common for special exhibitions, isn’t often the case with broad collection installations, and it makes for a welcome duality, as specific subjects and groupings offer fresh takes while still nestling themselves within a familiar timeline.
Those fresh takes are delivered in a variety of ways. Sometimes the surprise comes in the very subject itself — a stunning wall devoted to anti-lynching prints from the 1930s, for instance. Other times a subject’s simple acceptance and display in a major museum gives one pause, as with a gallery devoted to artists affected by and making work about the 1980s–90s AIDS crisis, among them David Wojnarowicz, Felix Gonzalez-Torres, and Nan Goldin. (This may seems unexceptional today, but it was unthinkable only 20 years ago.) At still other points, the curatorial approach to a well-trodden subject brings a wave of relief, as in a room filled with quirky, decidedly not tacky surrealist pictures by the likes of Man Ray, George Tooker, and Joseph Cornell.
Then there are the surprises in the choices of works, perhaps the most bountiful area for discovery in the show. Who knew those two abstract black-and-white watercolors that seem to riff on the yin-yang were early works by Isamu Noguchi? Or that Robert Smithson made a collage of an android-looking human eating an arm? I also, happily, spotted fantastic works by artists I didn’t previously know, including Richmond Barthé, Miguel Covarrubias, Mabel Dwight, and Earl Reiback (apologies to the devotees of these artists for my ignorance). Many of the galleries feature tight, salon-style groupings of smaller works without wall labels but with information cards at either end, which moves you (or me, at least) away from an overreliance on names and towards a vision of the art of specific periods as movements, as interplays, as conversations. So does the mixing of media and the seamless integration of “outsider” art alongside insider (I guess) art; it is long overdue to see Bill Traylor hanging between Marsden Hartley and Thomas Hart Benson. (Although Martín Ramírez is conspicuously absent.)
Still, a paradox hangs over America Is Hard to See: it’s a show drawn from the museum’s permanent collection, and so it reflects the biases of the museum’s curators and collecting history — meaning it can only go so far in its goal to “[set] forth a distinctly new narrative.” Hyperallergic’s demographic breakdown of the exhibition artists pointed out the lack of Native American and Latino voices, and that absence is tangible in the galleries. The Chicago Imagists (Karl Wirsum, Jim Nutt) and California Light and Space artists do get nods (Larry Bell, no James Turrell), but are glossed over in favor of a New York–centric narrative. Quite surprisingly, the exhibition skips such pioneering women artists as Helen Frankenthaler, Judy Chicago, Martha Wilson, and Carrie Mae Weems, all while Matthew Barney gets his own small, conspicuously spare room. There’s very little craft-related work — where is Ken Price? — and even less work that’s communal, collective, or focused on social engagement and public participation.
More than anything, this reflects a need for institutional change at the Whitney, which, naturally, is a much longer and slower process than the making of any one show. In the meantime, it’s nice to see a history of American art that includes only two Warhols, both of them relatively small and hung in close proximity to work by Lilliana Porter, Betye Saar, Sister Corita Kent, Judith Bernstein, Faith Ringgold, and May Stevens.
The inaugural exhibition at the new Whitney Museum is not perfect, but it is pretty damn good. Spanning four floors, over 100 years, and more than 600 artworks, The show is structured both traditionally and not. That is to say, it runs chronologically — beginning on the top floor with the playing out of European modernism in the US in the early 20th century — and it also runs thematically by gallery (titles include “Forms Abstracted,” for the aforementioned modernism, and “Large Trademark,” for Pop art). This, although quite common for special exhibitions, isn’t often the case with broad collection installations, and it makes for a welcome duality, as specific subjects and groupings offer fresh takes while still nestling themselves within a familiar timeline.
Those fresh takes are delivered in a variety of ways. Sometimes the surprise comes in the very subject itself — a stunning wall devoted to anti-lynching prints from the 1930s, for instance. Other times a subject’s simple acceptance and display in a major museum gives one pause, as with a gallery devoted to artists affected by and making work about the 1980s–90s AIDS crisis, among them David Wojnarowicz, Felix Gonzalez-Torres, and Nan Goldin. (This may seems unexceptional today, but it was unthinkable only 20 years ago.) At still other points, the curatorial approach to a well-trodden subject brings a wave of relief, as in a room filled with quirky, decidedly not tacky surrealist pictures by the likes of Man Ray, George Tooker, and Joseph Cornell.
Then there are the surprises in the choices of works, perhaps the most bountiful area for discovery in the show. Who knew those two abstract black-and-white watercolors that seem to riff on the yin-yang were early works by Isamu Noguchi? Or that Robert Smithson made a collage of an android-looking human eating an arm? I also, happily, spotted fantastic works by artists I didn’t previously know, including Richmond Barthé, Miguel Covarrubias, Mabel Dwight, and Earl Reiback (apologies to the devotees of these artists for my ignorance). Many of the galleries feature tight, salon-style groupings of smaller works without wall labels but with information cards at either end, which moves you (or me, at least) away from an overreliance on names and towards a vision of the art of specific periods as movements, as interplays, as conversations. So does the mixing of media and the seamless integration of “outsider” art alongside insider (I guess) art; it is long overdue to see Bill Traylor hanging between Marsden Hartley and Thomas Hart Benson. (Although Martín Ramírez is conspicuously absent.)
Still, a paradox hangs over America Is Hard to See: it’s a show drawn from the museum’s permanent collection, and so it reflects the biases of the museum’s curators and collecting history — meaning it can only go so far in its goal to “[set] forth a distinctly new narrative.” Hyperallergic’s demographic breakdown of the exhibition artists pointed out the lack of Native American and Latino voices, and that absence is tangible in the galleries. The Chicago Imagists (Karl Wirsum, Jim Nutt) and California Light and Space artists do get nods (Larry Bell, no James Turrell), but are glossed over in favor of a New York–centric narrative. Quite surprisingly, the exhibition skips such pioneering women artists as Helen Frankenthaler, Judy Chicago, Martha Wilson, and Carrie Mae Weems, all while Matthew Barney gets his own small, conspicuously spare room. There’s very little craft-related work — where is Ken Price? — and even less work that’s communal, collective, or focused on social engagement and public participation.
More than anything, this reflects a need for institutional change at the Whitney, which, naturally, is a much longer and slower process than the making of any one show. In the meantime, it’s nice to see a history of American art that includes only two Warhols, both of them relatively small and hung in close proximity to work by Lilliana Porter, Betye Saar, Sister Corita Kent, Judith Bernstein, Faith Ringgold, and May Stevens.
Liberating the Anonymous Figures in Old Master Paintings
Outings.
It began last August, after the French artist Julien de Casabianca visited the Louvre and noticed a bored-looking girl in one painting’s corner. “I had a ‘Prince Charming’ impulse,” he recently told Slate. “I wanted to free her from the castle to give her a second life.”
Casabianca snapped a phone pic of the young woman, printed out her image, and wallpapered it on a building in Paris, where she now looks out on passersby. After that first one, friends and acquaintances began following suit, and their actions soon turned into what Casabianca calls a “world participative project.”
People have since liberated unknown figures in paintings at their local museums in 18 cities far and wide, including Barcelona, Rome, Warsaw, Belo Horizonte, London, Chicago, and New Orleans. Anyone who wants to participate can visit Casabianca’s website, which provides careful instructions on how to do so (in some cases, he even provides small grants, with the help of partners, for those who can’t afford the cost of printing).
In an email to Hyperallergic, Casabianca explained that he’s now touring 12 cities in the United States bringing the anonymous people from paintings to the anonymous people on the streets. He said he tries to put the figures up in poor neighborhoods “where people need beauty.”
“Our mission is not to repair the world, but we can help,” he said. “And we always have great moments putting these works up, interacting with inhabitants and seeing how they love these great paintings.”
In the past year, obscure figures from master paintings in museums around the world have been moonlighting as street art, thanks to a project called It began last August, after the French artist Julien de Casabianca visited the Louvre and noticed a bored-looking girl in one painting’s corner. “I had a ‘Prince Charming’ impulse,” he recently told Slate. “I wanted to free her from the castle to give her a second life.”
Casabianca snapped a phone pic of the young woman, printed out her image, and wallpapered it on a building in Paris, where she now looks out on passersby. After that first one, friends and acquaintances began following suit, and their actions soon turned into what Casabianca calls a “world participative project.”
People have since liberated unknown figures in paintings at their local museums in 18 cities far and wide, including Barcelona, Rome, Warsaw, Belo Horizonte, London, Chicago, and New Orleans. Anyone who wants to participate can visit Casabianca’s website, which provides careful instructions on how to do so (in some cases, he even provides small grants, with the help of partners, for those who can’t afford the cost of printing).
In an email to Hyperallergic, Casabianca explained that he’s now touring 12 cities in the United States bringing the anonymous people from paintings to the anonymous people on the streets. He said he tries to put the figures up in poor neighborhoods “where people need beauty.”
“Our mission is not to repair the world, but we can help,” he said. “And we always have great moments putting these works up, interacting with inhabitants and seeing how they love these great paintings.”
domingo, 26 de abril de 2015
KUMPANIA D'ALGAZARRA
SÃO ELES UMA DAS BANDAS MAIS DIVERTIDAS QUE TOCAM SONS BALCÂNICOS COM UMA DOSE DE LOUCURA E UMA MELODIAS INCRIVEIS E ÀS QUAIS NINGUÉM CONSEGUE FICAR PARADO. FICA O APONTAMENTO NO MEU BLOG DE TRIBUTO A ESTA MALTA DE SINTRA.
sábado, 25 de abril de 2015
The Original Wednesday Band
Reunidos todas as terças feiras no "Bus-Paragem Cultural", somos um grupo variado e deveras surpreendente, os temas vão -se encaminhando e as pessoas acabam por os decorar até os tocar bem. Para além de fotos já postadas anteriormente, decidi agora uma curtas das nossas Jam's, onde apareço a tocar bateria juntamente com este grupo sempre presente e que aguarda novos participantes.
25 de Abril, 41 anos depois do fim da Ditadura
Comemora-se hoje 41 anos que o Regime totalitário de cariz fascista preconizado por Oliveira Salazar sucumbiu, numa madrugada Democrática. Restituindo os valores Constitucionais que vinham desde 1910 e coartados em 1926 pelo golpe de Estado de Gomes da Costa. Foi uma longa noite escura, repleta de mêdos, perseguições, guerra colonial, mas com uma longa esperança que foi cantada, porque a Cantiga é uma Arma, assim um grupo de amigos meus se reuniu no Rossio em Lisboa para um Canto livre, lembrando os valores de Abril para que não caiam no olvido e se ergam de novo os Vampiros do passado, facto que se sente no dia a dia Neoliberal e Europeu. Aqui ficam as fotos deste dia,
sexta-feira, 24 de abril de 2015
The Diverse Designs of “Do Not Disturb” Signs
- by Julia Friedman on April 22, 2015
Edoardo Flores spent his childhood around objects many of us associate solely with the niceties of vacation. His interest in collecting “Do Not Disturb” signs didn’t come until later, when he grabbed some unique ones as business trip souvenirs. Around 1995 he began collecting in earnest, and he now owns close to 9,000 signs from 190 countries.
In a history of the collection that Flores provided to Hyperallergic, he claims that little is known about the development of the “Do Not Disturb” (DND) sign, now such a common, expected component of hotel stays. Flores speculates that the DND sign was the wise invention of one hotel manager, and that other places later emulated the practice.
Some of the signs in Flores’s collection approximate the typeface and design of what one imagines the average DND sign to be. But this assembly also demonstrates the human interest in aesthetics beyond functionality. Some of the highlights: a sign from Hungary that approximates a Rorschach inkblot — are those lips and a finger or something more psychologically revealing? There’s the sign from Lufthansa that looks like the original “world’s saddest owl.” And many signs that lasciviously suggest, usually with the image of a woman pressing a finger to her lips, the reason these guests should not be bothered. One from the Helix Hotel in Washington, DC, combines an image of a red-lipped woman with the phrase “I just want to be alone” — a kind of anti-Lichtensteinian play on Pop art imagery.
The vast range of shapes, colors, and themes in Flores’s collection seems a plea for more unique design of all mass-produced objects, if not for functionality than simply for the sake of the optical, intellectual, and emotional stimulation that comes from visual diversity.
As the son of a hotel manager, In a history of the collection that Flores provided to Hyperallergic, he claims that little is known about the development of the “Do Not Disturb” (DND) sign, now such a common, expected component of hotel stays. Flores speculates that the DND sign was the wise invention of one hotel manager, and that other places later emulated the practice.
Some of the signs in Flores’s collection approximate the typeface and design of what one imagines the average DND sign to be. But this assembly also demonstrates the human interest in aesthetics beyond functionality. Some of the highlights: a sign from Hungary that approximates a Rorschach inkblot — are those lips and a finger or something more psychologically revealing? There’s the sign from Lufthansa that looks like the original “world’s saddest owl.” And many signs that lasciviously suggest, usually with the image of a woman pressing a finger to her lips, the reason these guests should not be bothered. One from the Helix Hotel in Washington, DC, combines an image of a red-lipped woman with the phrase “I just want to be alone” — a kind of anti-Lichtensteinian play on Pop art imagery.
The vast range of shapes, colors, and themes in Flores’s collection seems a plea for more unique design of all mass-produced objects, if not for functionality than simply for the sake of the optical, intellectual, and emotional stimulation that comes from visual diversity.
quinta-feira, 23 de abril de 2015
quarta-feira, 22 de abril de 2015
A Game Surreal deixa você preso dentro uma estação de trem
No vídeo game Off-Peak, você está preso em uma estação de trem que é uma mistura surreal da arquitetura de Nova York.
terça-feira, 21 de abril de 2015
ARTE DE RECICLAGEM DE BRINQUEDOS
Em Lisboa no Centro Cultural de Belém está patente uma exposição de Bordalo II deveras surpreendente. O Artista vai buscar vários brinquedos de plástico, derrete-os, pinta-os e dá-lhes as formas mais fantásticas, os objectos cruzam-se em formas únicas numa amalgama delirante. Sem duvida esta é um expressão plástica inovadora quanto à combinação que é obtida e o quadro tridimensional extraído destes trabalhos.
segunda-feira, 20 de abril de 2015
DOMINGO À TARDE NOS JARDINS DA FUNDAÇÃO CALOUSTRE GULBENKIAN
Domingo à tarde em Lisboa e a Primavera está no ar.A cor da cidade altera-se com tons de azul e a cidade perfuma-se com odores de Abril e as pessoas saem à rua para partilhar e viver este momento tão intenso. Nos jardins da Gulbenkian pode-se apreender esta realidade e estão as pessoas em sintonia com este espaço verde bem ordenado e onde os animais vivem por momentos no seu Habitat natural; são pássaros, patos-reais, gatos e tudo o mais... tudo numa estética quase poética e onde todo o Ser se entrega ao pensamento simbólico e vive...vive.....Mas vejamos as fotos para ilustrar o que foi dito.
domingo, 19 de abril de 2015
JAM SESSION II
Mais uma série de fotos de mais uma sessão efectuada no "Bus Paragem Cultural ", onde todas as terças feiras, um grupo de músicos dão asas à liberdade musical e deambulam por todo tipo de temas musicais, com guitarras, Ukeleles, teclas, voz, Harmónicas e percussão. Achei importante reportar este evento para divulgação para os demais interessados a aparecer com seu instrumento e tomar parte neste evento. E VIVA A MUSICA....
Revamped Textile Museum in DC Weaves Together Historic and Contemporary Fabrics
by Aaron McIntosh on April 16, 2015
The newly opened Textile Museum, now part of George Washington University (GWU), is here to upend these assumptions and make textiles newly vital. The only institution of its kind in the country, it is now embedded in the footprint of a large urban university campus, has expanded its facilities to an impressive 46,000 square feet, and is now more easily accessible. Originally located in two 19th-century mansions in Kalorama Heights, it was a pilgrimage for the initiated. Those intimate house interiors hosted some of the best textile exhibitions I have seen, including 2011’s Colors of the Oasis: Central Asian Ikats and 2012’s Weaving Abstraction: Kuba Textiles and the Woven Art of Central Africa. Despite this, it was a stuffy place ensconced in Western architectural styles that starkly contrasted with the vibrant, non-Western textiles often on display, and forever reminded me of the colonial-era cultural hoarding upon which the collection was built.
sábado, 18 de abril de 2015
Manifestação contra o Tratado Transatlântico entre a Europa e os Estados Unidos da América do Norte
Manifesto
1. QUEM SOMOS?
Somos cidadãos e organizações, membros da sociedade civil portuguesa, que partilham uma profunda preocupação pelas várias ameaças decorrentes da Parceria Transatlântica de Comércio e Investimento (TTIP, também conhecida como Acordo Transatlântico de Comércio Livre ou TAFTA).
Consideramos que o TTIP poderá vir a colocar em questão alguns dos bens e valores essenciais a uma existência condigna : proteção ambiental, saúde pública, agricultura, direitos dos consumidores, proteção das normas alimentares e agrícolas, bem-estar dos animais, normas sociais e laborais, direitos dos trabalhadores, desenvolvimento, acesso do público à informação, direitos digitais, serviços públicos essenciais (incluindo educação), estabilidade dos sistemas financeiros e outros.
Estamos firmemente decididos a pôr em causa as negociações do TTIP, a fim de assegurar um debate político transparente e democrático. Quaisquer acordos devem servir o interesse público e o nosso futuro comum.
sexta-feira, 17 de abril de 2015
quarta-feira, 15 de abril de 2015
terça-feira, 14 de abril de 2015
segunda-feira, 13 de abril de 2015
domingo, 12 de abril de 2015
PESCADORES DE MACAU E O CULTO DE CHU TAI SIN
A pesca e os pescadores são parte intrínseca da história de Macau. Esta comunidade que, no princípio do século XX, constituía cerca de um terço da população, tinha a particularidade de ser flutuante no sentido literal do termo: os pescadores nasciam, viviam e morriam a bordo das embarcações. Confrontados diariamente com a precariedade da vida, atribuíam à actividade religiosa um papel crucial. Chu Tai Sin, divindade taoísta patrono dos pescadores, é um dos deuses a que recorrem em situação de aflição. Anualmente os crentes congregam-se num barco transformado em templo para participar na festividade Da Jiu realizada em sua honra. Esta tradição faz parte do património intangível de Macau embora, actualmente esteja ameaçada.
Esta exposição pretende dar a conhecer a origem e natureza do culto de Chu Tai Sin em Macau bem como a arte popular de escultura de ídolos sagrados. Esta arte foi desenvolvida face às solicitações dos pescadores e encontra-se inscrita na lista do património cultural imaterial da China.
Ao percorrer a exposição o visitante terá a oportunidade de ver objectos rituais e fotografias das diferentes cerimónias que integram a festividade Da Jiu. Parte do espaço expositivo evoca a organização do espaço ritual no templo flutuante. A mostra está ainda enriquecida com documentários permitindo ao visitante ter uma melhor percepção da vivência desta celebração.
À semelhança dos pescadores que, terminada a festividade, regressam às respectivas embarcações, munidos de amuletos e talismãs, os visitantes são convidados a levar consigo amuletos que poderão produzir com carimbos rituais disponibilizados para o efeito.
Numa perspectiva que cruza etnografia, arte e história, esta exposição aborda uma manifestação cultural popular em vias de extinção, contribuindo assim para preservar o conhecimento sobre este elemento singular do do património intangível de Macau.
Co-organização Museu Marítimo de Macau | Apoio Casa de Portugal em Macau
sábado, 11 de abril de 2015
A NUTTY SQUIRREL UM ESQUILO E SUAS VESTES
"Você não pode ser amigo de um esquilo - um esquilo é apenas um rato com um equipamento mais bonito", Sarah Jessica Parker, uma vez brincou. As várias indumentárias possiveis para um esquilo que virou modelo nos anos 40.
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