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zalenaI got home from work about 8:30 last night and had mac 'n cheese for dinner, called mom, and listened to all my phone messages.
There was a book of Icelandic Sagas on my front door step. I still don't know who gave it to me. (Obviously someone who has to hear about my Norse obsession at sometime over the past year.)
Mom's package contained an inspirational book of Muppet quotes, a Beauty & the Beast bookmark, and a heavy silver and garnet pendant clustered with the wine colored stones. She said she'd originally bought it for herself (I thought when seeing it that it was more her style than mine) but felt it belonged with me.
Since I erased my earlier garnet post, I'll repost that I have worn garnets my entire life, despite the fact that it is not supposed to be my birthstone. Amethysts always seemed kind of wimpy and washed out, but garnets are equally inexpensive and have a little intoxication to them. I was given a garnet ring for confirmation, garnet earrings for H.S. graduation, another set at 21, and now a huge pendant at 30.
My family used to chip garnets out of chalk cliffs to help supplement their income. Garnet occasionally even shows up as a family name. I think the last possessor was my great-grandfather who hated his name so much he wouldn't answer to anything but "Joe."
I am the possessor of a quarter-sized garnet, like a giant marble, both faceted and fissured. Garnets are naturally faceted, and are often found in crumbly, chalky, earth.
Anyway, it's been a nice birthday, and it's not even over yet. Carly and I are going out tonight. Dad is coming over Saturday. And I took the day off all for myself.
Also, Christo & Jean Claude are planning their next project here in Colorado over the Arkansas River near Salida. There is of course enormous controversy over it, but I really want to see it. They were interviewed on Colorado Matters last night. Hearing them talk about their project made me cry.
I'm very interested in experiential art and have been ever since I encountered an art installation at the Denver Musuem of Art which simulated a religious experience. I didn't read the sign before I walked into darkened room. There was low lighting pointed at the back wall with benches set next to the interest. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw a faint blue glow on the opposite side of the room. It was so faint, at first I couldn't tell if it was really there or just a trick of my light-starved eyes. I seemed to vaguely make out the shape of a screen, so I walked towards it and finally, still unable to see if there was something solid, projected, or ephemeral, I decided to do something one is never supposed to do in an art museum. I reached out my hand and touch it.
My hand went through the "blue screen" and I realized it was a hole in the wall. Behind it there was empty space. It gave me a shiver. I stood and contemplated the space for a few more moments then exited the installation. The sign outside the installation explained it was designed by a psychologist who had intended to simulate a sort of "religious experience" and had used as his inspiration certain ancient churches or places of spiritual practice. The "blue screen" effect was created by agitating some chemical in the space behind the hole-in-the-wall to give off a faint blue glow.
It was totally effective, and absolutely gorgeous. Since then I've been very interested in the way space impacts emotion and experience. I've also gotten really interested in earthworks, popular in the 70s and frequently found in the West. The drought we've experienced over the past few years has made Robert Smithson's Spiral Jetty in the Great Salt Lake visible after years of submersion. There are other artists who have been working 20-30 years to complete enormous earthwork complexes. There are also architects who have been working with the landscape to create interesting places whether churches, museums, or observatories. Everytime I run into something about these things I cut them out and put them in a curiousity file. Many will be finished in the next 10-20 years. I intended to see them.
Christo & Jean Claude's project is expected to be done in 2009-2010. They will suspend fabric over the river for about 2/3 of a mile. People will be able to fly over it, drive past it, or raft under it. As they explained the inspiration came years ago when on of their projects on a barge on the Seine came loose and they were struck by the sun, wind, water, and fabric. "It made us smile."
Another way of thinking about the project is "making the wind visible." Which was the one that made me shiver. How could you not want to see that? The engineering that goes into making it possible is also fascinating. I love the blend of the conceptual and the pragmatic.
Anyway, I also understand where the detractors are coming from, but their point of view is much less interesting, even when relevant. Traffic management is much less interesting to me, which perhaps isn't really fair.
There was a book of Icelandic Sagas on my front door step. I still don't know who gave it to me. (Obviously someone who has to hear about my Norse obsession at sometime over the past year.)
Mom's package contained an inspirational book of Muppet quotes, a Beauty & the Beast bookmark, and a heavy silver and garnet pendant clustered with the wine colored stones. She said she'd originally bought it for herself (I thought when seeing it that it was more her style than mine) but felt it belonged with me.
Since I erased my earlier garnet post, I'll repost that I have worn garnets my entire life, despite the fact that it is not supposed to be my birthstone. Amethysts always seemed kind of wimpy and washed out, but garnets are equally inexpensive and have a little intoxication to them. I was given a garnet ring for confirmation, garnet earrings for H.S. graduation, another set at 21, and now a huge pendant at 30.
My family used to chip garnets out of chalk cliffs to help supplement their income. Garnet occasionally even shows up as a family name. I think the last possessor was my great-grandfather who hated his name so much he wouldn't answer to anything but "Joe."
I am the possessor of a quarter-sized garnet, like a giant marble, both faceted and fissured. Garnets are naturally faceted, and are often found in crumbly, chalky, earth.
Anyway, it's been a nice birthday, and it's not even over yet. Carly and I are going out tonight. Dad is coming over Saturday. And I took the day off all for myself.
Also, Christo & Jean Claude are planning their next project here in Colorado over the Arkansas River near Salida. There is of course enormous controversy over it, but I really want to see it. They were interviewed on Colorado Matters last night. Hearing them talk about their project made me cry.
I'm very interested in experiential art and have been ever since I encountered an art installation at the Denver Musuem of Art which simulated a religious experience. I didn't read the sign before I walked into darkened room. There was low lighting pointed at the back wall with benches set next to the interest. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw a faint blue glow on the opposite side of the room. It was so faint, at first I couldn't tell if it was really there or just a trick of my light-starved eyes. I seemed to vaguely make out the shape of a screen, so I walked towards it and finally, still unable to see if there was something solid, projected, or ephemeral, I decided to do something one is never supposed to do in an art museum. I reached out my hand and touch it.
My hand went through the "blue screen" and I realized it was a hole in the wall. Behind it there was empty space. It gave me a shiver. I stood and contemplated the space for a few more moments then exited the installation. The sign outside the installation explained it was designed by a psychologist who had intended to simulate a sort of "religious experience" and had used as his inspiration certain ancient churches or places of spiritual practice. The "blue screen" effect was created by agitating some chemical in the space behind the hole-in-the-wall to give off a faint blue glow.
It was totally effective, and absolutely gorgeous. Since then I've been very interested in the way space impacts emotion and experience. I've also gotten really interested in earthworks, popular in the 70s and frequently found in the West. The drought we've experienced over the past few years has made Robert Smithson's Spiral Jetty in the Great Salt Lake visible after years of submersion. There are other artists who have been working 20-30 years to complete enormous earthwork complexes. There are also architects who have been working with the landscape to create interesting places whether churches, museums, or observatories. Everytime I run into something about these things I cut them out and put them in a curiousity file. Many will be finished in the next 10-20 years. I intended to see them.
Christo & Jean Claude's project is expected to be done in 2009-2010. They will suspend fabric over the river for about 2/3 of a mile. People will be able to fly over it, drive past it, or raft under it. As they explained the inspiration came years ago when on of their projects on a barge on the Seine came loose and they were struck by the sun, wind, water, and fabric. "It made us smile."
Another way of thinking about the project is "making the wind visible." Which was the one that made me shiver. How could you not want to see that? The engineering that goes into making it possible is also fascinating. I love the blend of the conceptual and the pragmatic.
Anyway, I also understand where the detractors are coming from, but their point of view is much less interesting, even when relevant. Traffic management is much less interesting to me, which perhaps isn't really fair.
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no subject
Date: 2006-02-03 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-03 04:31 pm (UTC)I was not aware of his piece on the Hudson. I would have liked to have seen it when I was out there.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-03 11:33 pm (UTC)At the Art Gallery of Ontario, we also saw some of the preliminary drawings for the river project that they're planning in Colorado, and I for one was amazingly jealous of folks who live there; it looked a lot more fascinating than The Gates, which was ultimately not that spectacular to me.
And I can't recommend Goldsworthy enough. He did some projects in Ithaca when I was a Cornell student, and they were just amazing.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-04 04:07 am (UTC)A love it when the abstract and the practical combine too, particularly the way that the more we understand, the more poetic science seems to become.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-04 06:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-04 10:52 am (UTC)