(no subject)

[fabrisse]

I went to see the Magritte Exhibit at LACMA last week. The whole exhibit was carpeted like in the picture above and the ceiling had pictures of the Los Angeles Cloverleaf system.


I lived in Belgium, as most of you know. But it wasn't until much later that Magritte began to click with me.

Frankly the apple in place of a face picture that's so widely copied, doesn't do a thing for me. Or didn't until I went to the exhibit. More on that later.

His Treachery of Images "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" was the first one that really started me thinking, and I did a whole LJ entry earlier on the painting of his in the National Gallery that truly got me looking at the meanings within his pictures.

There were several pieces at LACMA that I either hadn't seen before, had no context for before, or don't remember seeing before.

This image:
which is on loan from the Virginia Museum, I must have seen when I went to school in Richmond. Damned if I can remember it. As an adult, though, the whole subtext of the Flying Dutchman as well as the dreams of longing unfulfilled resonated with me.

On a side note, The Virginia Museum is where I was first introduced to surrealism. Many of the Dali jewels were being housed there, including the ruby brooch of a heart that beats. It's both beautiful and disturbing.

Magritte's faceless man images were used extensively in different parts of the exhibit. There was an entry way in brown velvet that echoed one of his paintings. One of the paintings that I'd never seen before had the man faceless, but instead of an apple or other object, he's just pure light. The room that he's sitting in is so dark that the contrast is startling. And the idea that the faceless Belgian bureaucrat could also be a symbol of enlightenment is very comforting to me.

The best use of the image, though, was by the guards. They all wore the dark suit, white shirt, red tie, and bowler hat. The guard that I spoke to going into the exhibit was hoping this would be their permanent uniform (she'd already been overruled). Her hope was that "We'd be different from any other museum guards in the world."

To see one of these guards checking his watch and another slouching in the door frame -- heck to see the lady that I spoke to rather than a man in the outfit -- added immensely to the surrealism of the exhibit.

My other favorite image was of Elsa Schiaparelli's original bottle for her cologne "Snuff." The bottle was designed by Magritte in the shape of one of his pipes.

I want that carpet, too.

Comments

[eanja]

That looks gorgeous. From the object leaning on the wall on your top picture, I assume the wall is only painted to look receding? I didn't notice that immediately, but between that and dressing up the guards, it sound like an amazing effort with the settings. Do they usually put that much work into them?

In other news, I think I've owed you email for several months at this point - I'm so sorry- I keep putting it on my to-do list, and then not getting to it around work sorts of things. And you really will get your Christmas present at some point too. I haven't forgotten it, really. (And now that I've specifically mentioned it, I'll really have to get to that email in the next couple of days.)

[fabrisse.livejournal.com]

it sound like an amazing effort with the settings. Do they usually put that much work into them?

I don't think so. In this case, they had an artist put the exhibit together. LACMA's webpage has more on it.

Did you get your prezzies?

I've missed you.

[eanja]

Eeep. I guess that means I was horribly rude and didn't send a thank you note before heading off to the UK. I had a vague notion that I had, but it must have been wishful thinking.

So yes, I got the presents, and they were lovely. Have you seen Slings and Arrows, or were you just going off my Amazon list and seeing Paul Gross on it? Because I was actually thinking of it as something I was going to recommend to you, since it's all about theater stuff as well as eye candy, and to my inexperienced eye at least, the bits where he gets into staging or explaining the Shakespeare scenes really work. (And the bit where the woman our age gets to choose between the 20-year old hunk-boy and a totally smitten Paul Gross just wouldn't happen on American TV.)

[fabrisse.livejournal.com]

I have Slings and Arrows, but haven't had the time to see it yet. You're whetting my apetite.

I've now seen all of seasons 1 and 2 of Due South. I loved the use of Holly Cole Trio in the season 1 two parter about the diplomat's kid. So much so that I now own several albums by Holly Cole. *G*

You may have sent a thank you note. Sadly, I haven't had a chance to go through my mail seriously in weeks. I just pull out the bills to pay. Maybe next week, I'll have time.

[eanja]

I probably forgot. My parents were here before Christmas, and then I went off to see Patrick, then came back to do mad catching up before Arisia. So I kind of dropped a batch of things. (That's what happened to shipping your guitar as well, about which more when I do that actual email.)

A friend gave me an lj site which, when I last checked, had the third season on Slings and Arrows posted, though I haven't watched it yet. But when you get a chance to see it, I can pass it on, if you like. (And see, I'm using my recently acquired Ellen icon from S & A.

I don't remember the Holly Cole Trio. I suppose I'll just have to go back and rewatch that episode now.:-)

(And I miss you as well. Forgot to say that above.)

[gileswench.livejournal.com]

I do wish I could go to that show. And I, too, want the carpet.

Magritte has always been a favorite of mine. As a child, I found many of his images deliciously whimsical, but as an adult I've developed a deeper appreciation of the meanings behind the images. Still, that sense of discovery and joy that I had when I first discovered his works (it was the toe boots that really reeled me in for the first time) is both comforting and invigorating.

That Flying Dutchman watership is amazing. I'd never seen it before, but it fills me with an odd mix of sorrow, longing, and wonder.

I think that's what speaks to me so strongly in Magritte: whether the piece is happy or sad or merely unexpected, there's always a sense of adventure and excitement about them. They remind me of how wondrous everyday things really are...like Belgian bureaucrats.

I'm glad you got to see this fabulous show, Twistie. My only disappointment is that I couldn't go with you.

[fabrisse.livejournal.com]

That carpet is wonderful. It even felt good.

Would that you could have come too.

[siderea]

"Blue air rushes above my ceiling,
There are suns beneath my floor."

What a marvelous exhibition. I wish I could see it.

[fabrisse.livejournal.com]

What quote is that? I love it -- very apt.

I don't think this exhibition is travelling, sadly. I think you would have enjoyed it.

How are you? You're also much missed.

[siderea]

It's from Senlin: A Biography by Conrad Aiken, specifically "II. His Futile Preoccupations", part 2, which also happens to be the source of the phrase "a swiftly tilting planet", which Madeleine L'Engle uses as a title for one of her books.

[fabrisse.livejournal.com]

Deeply, deeply cool.

[siderea]

Er, and I'm "absent-minded" apparently. :) Hectic but pretty good. Miss you too. How have things been?

[fabrisse.livejournal.com]

The days are filled, but there's not much life in them. I think I'll be more content when I can cook again.

My job is filling so much of my time that I haven't had time to look for a better job. There's something wrong with that. *G*