Art

Oct. 20th, 2013 12:14 am
annwfyn: (sally - mucha)
This is totally stolen from Pav ages ago. I put it up on G+ but am now putti g it here for posterity.

He posted up some of his favourite pictures earlier, with a little bit about why he liked each one. As he said, art is a really personal thing and sharing what we like is an intimate act. It's sharing a lot of what we are, who we are, how we see the world.

And so I figured since he was sharing, I'd share too.

So...

1) The Fall of the Rebel Angels by Pieter Brueghel the Elder

http://www.artinthepicture.com/artists/Pieter_Brueghel_the_Elder/rebel.jpeg

I had this picture as a poster on my bedroom wall for years when I was a teenager. I saw it first in Brussels, visiting with my family when I was a kid, and fell in love with it immediately. I don't know why exactly. I know I love the complexity of it, the depth, the fact that every time you go back there, there is more to see. I love the mix of the ugly and the beautiful, the graceful and the grotesque. And I love the grotesque. I think everyone knows I love the grotesque.

2) Tiger in a Tropical Storm or Surprised! by Henri Rousseau

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fa/Surprised-Rousseau.jpg

You know, I love this picture for the same reason I love all of Rousseau's work. He wasn't painting from life. He was painting purely from his own imagination. He never left France. The tiger, the tropical storm, all of it, was inspired by visits to the botanical gardens in Paris. And so when I see the painting, I see a man's daydreams. I see the places he went in his mind when he couldn't go there himself. I see his own weird version of role playing, I think, pretending to be a man who had seen a tiger (even if the tiger in his mind looks rather more like a cat than a tiger) and I think you can all understand why that might appeal to me.

3) Empire of Light by Rene Magritte

http://annex.guggenheim.org/collections/media/full/76.2553.102_ph_web.jpg

I saw this in Venice, again, with my family, and just stood there in the Peggy Guggenheim museum, staring at it for ages. It's one of a series, I later found out, and I like them all. I don't quite know why. I think it's the juxtaposition I like, the weirdness of the sun so perfectly spreading out only nighttime shadows, the way the impossible blends so perfectly together. I like surrealism in general, and this one has the advantage of also being very pretty.

4) Sunflowers by Vincent Van Gogh

http://www.vangoghgallery.com/catalog/image/0454/Still-Life:-Vase-with-Fifteen-Sunflowers.jpg

Not very exciting, and probably quite cliche, but I love Van Gogh's sunflowers. Have done ever since I saw them at the National Gallery. They are just so bright, so colourful, I think you can't help but smile. Plus, I love sunflowers. There's also a story I was originally told about them (which I now think may be untrue) which is that the painting was originally painted to hang on the wall of Van Gogh's spare bedroom. He had been very depressed for a while, but had been cheered by news that a friend was coming to visit. And so, for me, the picture came to represent hope, and hope for happiness, even when one's brain isn't being very much fun.

5) Mother Goose by Arthur Rackham

http://www.collectorsprints.com/_images/rackham/picture/mother-goose-400.jpg

This is another ugly-pretty picture. I've always loved Arthur Rackham's work - I had a load of his pictures on my wall when I was a kid - but I don't like the pretty fairies nearly as much as I like the goblins. I find the goblins fascinating to look at, wonderfully grotesque and, in their weird faces and angles, much prettier than the fairies ever really could be at all.

Plus I like goblins. I identify with them.

So those are my pictures. How about yours?
annwfyn: (mood - ordinary princess)
There is no good reason for this, other than that I found them and was reminded of how much I love Arthur Rackham. Not his pretty fairy girls, but the dark and the sepia touched and the slightly gribbly little goblins and beasties that creep through his world...

Lots of pictures behind the cut )

I used to have a lovely picture of a group of ugly little gnomish people standing around in the snow, and up above you could see Mother Goose plucking a goose to make the snow, but I can't find a picture of that online anywhere. If anyone even knows the picture I'm referring to, I'll love you forever...
annwfyn: (Sally - dreamscape)
This evening I am randomly posting up another of my favourite pics.

This is 'Empire of Light', by Rene Magritte.

Picture lurks beneath )

I first saw this in the Peggy Guggenheim Museum in Venice. I just stood there for ages, staring at it. I don't know why. I still am not sure, but I've grown to love a lot of Magritte work. It just looks to me like he's painting dreams, with that weird dream logic, where it all almost hangs together, just slightly askew. It looks almost real, and yet totally unreal.

And he's wonderful. Just so fantastic...
annwfyn: (Sally - dreamscape)
This evening I am randomly posting up another of my favourite pics.

This is 'Empire of Light', by Rene Magritte.

Picture lurks beneath )

I first saw this in the Peggy Guggenheim Museum in Venice. I just stood there for ages, staring at it. I don't know why. I still am not sure, but I've grown to love a lot of Magritte work. It just looks to me like he's painting dreams, with that weird dream logic, where it all almost hangs together, just slightly askew. It looks almost real, and yet totally unreal.

And he's wonderful. Just so fantastic...
annwfyn: (matilda)
There's a Quentin Blake exhibition on at the National Theatre. I was originally told about it by Marcy, who is wise, and went there yesterday with [profile] pierot and found it wonderful.

We both cooed over the art, and sank into nostalgia at the many many illustrations from books we both read as kids. I gurgled with delight over finding the original illustrations from Fantastic Mr Fox (which was one of my favourite books as a kid), and squealed like a fan girl at the pic of Evil Red Riding Hood in her wolfskin coat from Revolting Rhymes.

There's also a fantastic new pic of Quentin Blake and Roald Dahl, drawn by Quentin Blake, showing them working together. I found a pic on the web to put up here, but believe me, it isn't half as nice as the real thing.

Pic under cut )

If you're Londoners - go see this exhibition! It doesn't cost anything and it's just opposite Waterloo.

*nods firmly*
annwfyn: (matilda)
There's a Quentin Blake exhibition on at the National Theatre. I was originally told about it by Marcy, who is wise, and went there yesterday with [profile] pierot and found it wonderful.

We both cooed over the art, and sank into nostalgia at the many many illustrations from books we both read as kids. I gurgled with delight over finding the original illustrations from Fantastic Mr Fox (which was one of my favourite books as a kid), and squealed like a fan girl at the pic of Evil Red Riding Hood in her wolfskin coat from Revolting Rhymes.

There's also a fantastic new pic of Quentin Blake and Roald Dahl, drawn by Quentin Blake, showing them working together. I found a pic on the web to put up here, but believe me, it isn't half as nice as the real thing.

Pic under cut )

If you're Londoners - go see this exhibition! It doesn't cost anything and it's just opposite Waterloo.

*nods firmly*
annwfyn: (character - one for sorrow)
[profile] melsner recently found me this website, which is full of the art of Sue Coleman. I first saw Sue Coleman's art on a series of greeting cards in Seattle, when I went out there about three years ago and got taken on the Mike Elsner Raven Death March Of Fun, in which we tramped around Seattle for about six hours straight looking for all things raven and raven art related. I've never seen Sue's art out of Seattle, which is a shame for I absolutely adore it.

I've put up my three favourite pics of hers here. I don't quite know how to describe why I like the art so much. Part of it is that these pictures do carry with them some very good memories of some very good times. Part of it is that I do love the iconic style of the pacific northwest native americans. Part of it is that I love ravens, and she's one of the few artists I've ever seen who do a lot of native art. Part of it is that I really really love her juxtaposition of the real, and the unreal - the ideal - the iconic. She paints visions. For werewolf geeks - I think she paints the umbra.

Shadow of the raven )

Sea otters )

Raven and Sun )

There's loads more artwork on her site. And I loves it. I really do. Is just so pretty.

In other news, I had a good weekend, if a little tiring, and am today triple booked. I have my family descending on my new flat en masse, and apparently also have one of jez's old fundraising friends coming to visit, not to mention the clique maybe showing for game tonight.

I am wondering if this is going to be a problem, or if it'll all be alright.

Denial is not just a river in Egypt.
annwfyn: (character - one for sorrow)
[profile] melsner recently found me this website, which is full of the art of Sue Coleman. I first saw Sue Coleman's art on a series of greeting cards in Seattle, when I went out there about three years ago and got taken on the Mike Elsner Raven Death March Of Fun, in which we tramped around Seattle for about six hours straight looking for all things raven and raven art related. I've never seen Sue's art out of Seattle, which is a shame for I absolutely adore it.

I've put up my three favourite pics of hers here. I don't quite know how to describe why I like the art so much. Part of it is that these pictures do carry with them some very good memories of some very good times. Part of it is that I do love the iconic style of the pacific northwest native americans. Part of it is that I love ravens, and she's one of the few artists I've ever seen who do a lot of native art. Part of it is that I really really love her juxtaposition of the real, and the unreal - the ideal - the iconic. She paints visions. For werewolf geeks - I think she paints the umbra.

Shadow of the raven )

Sea otters )

Raven and Sun )

There's loads more artwork on her site. And I loves it. I really do. Is just so pretty.

In other news, I had a good weekend, if a little tiring, and am today triple booked. I have my family descending on my new flat en masse, and apparently also have one of jez's old fundraising friends coming to visit, not to mention the clique maybe showing for game tonight.

I am wondering if this is going to be a problem, or if it'll all be alright.

Denial is not just a river in Egypt.
annwfyn: (journey)
I think, no matter what, I'm rather pleased I applied for my conservation course. Having to put together proof of manual dexterity made me pick up a pen and pencil, after having not bothered for years. It made me actually try drawing, which is something I never really bothered with because I wasn't naturally 'good' at it, and it made me actually learn new things.

Today I am experimenting with Celtic knotwork, and I rather like it. I'm incredibly bad at it, but that isn't the point.

I once knew a very cool guy called Simon Tcherniak, who is now an actor and who I scour the imdb for occasionally. We were travelling around eastern Europe together, and everywhere he went he carried a sketch book with him. I remember watching him sprawled out by a fountain in Croatia, gazing intently at the town square in front of him.

"Oooh..you draw?" I said. He grinned and said "very badly". I think I must have looked confused, because he explained further. When you're a kid, he said (or something like this), you aren't afraid to do things just because you're bad. You pick up an instrument and make squeaky noises with it. You scrawl with crayons. You try, and you mess around, and sometimes you get good at something and sometimes you don't, but either way you have a lot of fun and it makes you happy. Then, somewhere along the line, as you get older, you stop doing this. Adults, he said, will only do things if they are good at them. An adult paints if the adult in question knows he/she has the skill and/or talent. An adult plays the piano if he/she can play the Moonlight Sonata without hitting too many of the wrong keys.

Simon was rebelling against this. He was rebelling against the idea that you can't learn anything new when you're older, and more importantly he was rebelling against the idea that you had to be good at something in order to do it. He wasn't much of an artist, he said. On the other hand, he liked drawing. He liked his sketch book. He liked the memories in it. So he'd keep drawing.

I decided I liked the moral in that story and have been trying to hold on to it ever since.
annwfyn: (journey)
I think, no matter what, I'm rather pleased I applied for my conservation course. Having to put together proof of manual dexterity made me pick up a pen and pencil, after having not bothered for years. It made me actually try drawing, which is something I never really bothered with because I wasn't naturally 'good' at it, and it made me actually learn new things.

Today I am experimenting with Celtic knotwork, and I rather like it. I'm incredibly bad at it, but that isn't the point.

I once knew a very cool guy called Simon Tcherniak, who is now an actor and who I scour the imdb for occasionally. We were travelling around eastern Europe together, and everywhere he went he carried a sketch book with him. I remember watching him sprawled out by a fountain in Croatia, gazing intently at the town square in front of him.

"Oooh..you draw?" I said. He grinned and said "very badly". I think I must have looked confused, because he explained further. When you're a kid, he said (or something like this), you aren't afraid to do things just because you're bad. You pick up an instrument and make squeaky noises with it. You scrawl with crayons. You try, and you mess around, and sometimes you get good at something and sometimes you don't, but either way you have a lot of fun and it makes you happy. Then, somewhere along the line, as you get older, you stop doing this. Adults, he said, will only do things if they are good at them. An adult paints if the adult in question knows he/she has the skill and/or talent. An adult plays the piano if he/she can play the Moonlight Sonata without hitting too many of the wrong keys.

Simon was rebelling against this. He was rebelling against the idea that you can't learn anything new when you're older, and more importantly he was rebelling against the idea that you had to be good at something in order to do it. He wasn't much of an artist, he said. On the other hand, he liked drawing. He liked his sketch book. He liked the memories in it. So he'd keep drawing.

I decided I liked the moral in that story and have been trying to hold on to it ever since.

Artwork

Mar. 15th, 2006 05:58 pm
annwfyn: (matilda)
It's odd how little I look at things.

Today I've been working on my portfolio for the conservator's course - Camberwell want to see some sketches as 'evidence of mannual dexterity'. I've never been much of an artist, so it is incredibly hard work in some ways to produce anything. At first I just tried to draw and (unsurprisingly) produced complete and utter crap. Since then I've been sketching from pictures, from photos, from life, looking incredibly carefully at everything and have realised how very little I normally see, from the way a house is built to the way a pig fits together.

I feel like I'm opening my eyes for the first time.

It's actually quite incredible.

Artwork

Mar. 15th, 2006 05:58 pm
annwfyn: (matilda)
It's odd how little I look at things.

Today I've been working on my portfolio for the conservator's course - Camberwell want to see some sketches as 'evidence of mannual dexterity'. I've never been much of an artist, so it is incredibly hard work in some ways to produce anything. At first I just tried to draw and (unsurprisingly) produced complete and utter crap. Since then I've been sketching from pictures, from photos, from life, looking incredibly carefully at everything and have realised how very little I normally see, from the way a house is built to the way a pig fits together.

I feel like I'm opening my eyes for the first time.

It's actually quite incredible.
annwfyn: (Sally - chibi)
Just randomly, I thought I'd post up one of my favourite pictures ever.

Tiger in a tropical rainstorm )

I love that picture. I love the way you can almost feel the heat, feel the crackle in the air. I love the movement, the way you can see the tiger's nervousness in his bunched neck muscles. I love the fact it reminds me of the monsoon season in Nepal, where you could bathe in the rain, it was so warm. I love the fact that it has a tiger, which is normally shown as something big and scary as the rather frightened kid in all this.

I think I identify rather strongly with that tiger at times.

I think I also love that picture because I like tigers, and thunderstorms, and the tropics. All three together - how can that be wrong?

I don't suppose anyone else wants to share one of their favourite pictures with me?
annwfyn: (Sally - chibi)
Just randomly, I thought I'd post up one of my favourite pictures ever.

Tiger in a tropical rainstorm )

I love that picture. I love the way you can almost feel the heat, feel the crackle in the air. I love the movement, the way you can see the tiger's nervousness in his bunched neck muscles. I love the fact it reminds me of the monsoon season in Nepal, where you could bathe in the rain, it was so warm. I love the fact that it has a tiger, which is normally shown as something big and scary as the rather frightened kid in all this.

I think I identify rather strongly with that tiger at times.

I think I also love that picture because I like tigers, and thunderstorms, and the tropics. All three together - how can that be wrong?

I don't suppose anyone else wants to share one of their favourite pictures with me?

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