#photographer: vanessa bell

[internatlvelvet]

a photo Vanessa Bell took of Duncan Grant

[asgoodeasgold]

The gorgeous and sizzling Tony & Margaret promo clips from Netflix for season 2 of The Crown. 

With some explosive performances and insane on-screen chemistry from Matthew Goode and Vanessa Kirby 💥🔥. Love them 🩷 These two must work together again!

And I can't wait to see Netflix's incredible promo machine getting into gear for Department Q! Matthew deserves all the support and all the love for his hard work and incredible talent.

📷 All clips are property of Netflix The Crown from their Instagram, YouTube, and Facebook (last clip via The Crown Net on tumblr), my gifs.

📷 My edits from above clips + photographs by Jason Bell for Vanity Fair (2017)

[coalswriting]

if i could give you the moon - natalie scatorccio

summary – y/n and nat go for a late night swim (approx 2.1k words)

partially based on ‘moon song’ by phoebe bridgers

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when the principal had called you out of your biology class to ask you to join the yellowjackets on their trip to nationals, you had immediately said yes. you were the lead photographer of the school paper, well praised for your incredible action shots and ability to frame a subject in a photograph.

you didn’t really know much about most of the yellowjackets other than photographing their games for articles; vanessa palmer was your partner in chemistry and the two of you, with your combined iq of approximately three, oftentimes messed around, doodling on each other’s notes and talking about movies on occasion. you did not really consider her a friend, more than you considered her a friendly acquaintance, since the moment the bell would ring for lunch, she would be out of the classroom in a flash, excited to meet her friends.

the day before nationals, van and her ‘friend’, taissa (you could see the chemistry practically wafting off them), invited you to a house party that night. “y’know, to really meet the team. i’ll introduce you!”, van suggested, trying to convince you to attend. you nodded your head quietly, already thinking of what outfit to wear.

“great,” taissa smiled, “i’ll pick you up at eight, what’s your address?”

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it was four minutes past eight when you heard a loud honk outside your house. peering through your window, you watched as van waved at you, tai rolling down the window to yell a curt “hurry up!”. with a final glance at the large mirror by your door, you fixed your outfit, grabbing your bag, and running down the stairs to meet the duo. the drive to the party wasn’t a long one, but the conversation felt like it lasted forever. you spoke about everything with the two other women; photography, soccer, nationals, your favourite foods, movies, and so on. however, the moment you arrived at the party, the two seemed to disappear, so you decided to pour yourself a drink and go into the garden, where most people seemed to be.

you ambled towards the big fire pit with a little bit of shyness, inspecting the people around you. most attendees were in small separated groups, chatting away about anything and everything. all except for her.

natalie scatorccio.

she was leaning against a tree, opening a fresh packet of cigarettes, a purple lighter grasped lightly between her teeth. you watched as she tapped the bottom of the pack, then pulled out a cigarette, flipped it upside down, and slid it back in.

without thinking, your legs began to move, and before you knew it, you were next to the girl. she looked up to you staring at her, and a few seconds passed before she started to talk, “what? you want one?”

coming back to your senses, you shook your head no, looking down towards her cigarettes, “why did you flip one cigarette upside down?”  

natalie looked at you, one eyebrow raised, as she processed what you said. suddenly she cracked a toothy smile, making your heart flutter a little. “that’s my lucky cigarette. i tapped the bottom of the box to see which one would raise, and that one did, so i flipped it. it’s the last one i’m going to smoke, during a happy moment in my life.”

“oh, i see,” you nodded, “that’s really sweet.”

she popped the tip of a cigarette in her mouth, lighting it. taking a deep inhale, she held her breath for a second, allowing herself to feel the burn of nicotine and smoke in her lungs. then, she turned her head away from you and exhaled. “are you the photographer that’s going with us tomorrow? i’m nat.”

“i’m (y/n),” you state, giving her anticipating knuckles a tap with your own, “i’m a bit nervous to go. i don’t really know anybody on the team other than van and she’s...”, you turned your head around, indicating that you had no clue where van went.  

natalie chuckled, brushing her shaggy bangs out of her eyes, “that’s cool. you can stay with me. i don’t have anyone to bunk with in the hotel, so as long as you don’t snore…” she said, insinuatingly. you elbowed her jokingly, laughing, but before you could reply, you heard an argument break out.

you and natalie both peered over, watching tai and another teammate yell at each other, van trying (and failing) to keep the peace. “for fuck’s sake,” she growled, pushing herself off the tree, “sorry (y/n), we gotta cut this conversation short. i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“yeah…” you replied, watching her walk over to join the argument. she was cute, and not as intimidating as she seemed, you decided. you could definitely see yourself being friends with her, even though you two were probably worlds apart in terms of personality, style, and interests.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

the plane for nationals had left as scheduled, with no initial issues. it was about an hour into your nap when the turbulence had started. you had woken up to the sound of panicked screams, and before you knew it, the plane had gone down, killing a few members of the yellowjackets, the pilots, and the coach. somehow, you had survived, mostly unscathed, with just a few bruised ribs and a deep slit just above your right eyebrow.

you were definitely the weakest link out of the survivors; you were sensitive to gore, (throwing up when coach ben’s leg was cut off), not as athletic as the others, and other than the bare essentials, you had only packed your polaroid and film camera with you for the journey.

despite this, natalie stuck by your side the whole time. it seemed like she had an almost unspoken pact to protect you no matter what, insisting on washing your wounds and sleeping next to you every night. “you can’t trust these girls,” she had said to you once, when you two went hunting together (more like you accompanying her while she hunted), “i swear one of these days they’re gonna eat someone.”

a few months had passed at this point, as the weather grew warmer. the lot of you had fallen into a routine, everyone doing their allocated tasks. you mostly rotated between joining natalie in the hunt, gathering water, and keeping count of essential supplies. your relationship with nat had grown closer, with her eventually telling you about her home life. you practically knew her inside out. she would smoke on particularly more stressful days, always ate her food in a certain order, and always, slept facing you. with this close friendship came budding feelings, as your crush on her developed. you often had dreams about her, felt irritated when you were not with her, and sometimes, even, you would offer her some of your food, and sneak it onto her plate when she wasn’t looking.

van and tai had noticed too, oftentimes smirking at you knowingly and teasing you when the three of you were alone.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

it was a particularly hot night when you were awoken by a foot nudging against your own. you opened your dreary eyes, noticing natalie staring back at you. “c’mon,” she whispered, sitting up. confused, you followed suit, and before you knew it, the both of you were outside, only illuminated by the moon.

“where are we going?”, you asked simply, stifling a yawn.

“swimming”, nat replied, holding your hand in hers and pulling you along. you both fell into a comfortable silence with you yawning every now and then. this silence was normal between you. you both could say so much without having to speak. lingering touches and endearing looks were often shared, and that, at times, was all that the two of you needed. just each other’s presence.

the moon reflected off the lake, giving you both a beautiful view as you began to take off your shirts. once you were both in your underwear, you ran towards the calm water, laughing and yelping at how cool the water felt against your skin.

nat splashed you, eliciting a scream from you, while you dived under the water to grab her waist. after about ten minutes of roughhousing and messing around, the two of you stood in waist length water, shoulder against shoulder, watching the moon. nat turned to face you, giving you the most loving smile you could ever imagine. the moonlight reflected off her hair, making it look as if it was glowing, complimenting her hazel eyes. you felt yourself melt. you were so safe with nat. she was so perfect.

“if i could give you anything right now,” she started, “it would be my last cigarette.”

“your lucky cigarette?!”, you gasped with mock shock, “you’ve been saving that for ages!”

“yeah, (y/n), i’ve been saving it for a happy moment; like the one i’m having with you right now.” she stopped talking for a moment, seeming to think, “i was really weary the whole time we’ve been here. it’s so dangerous and anything could happen. despite it all, being here – with you – it’s been great. like, despite all the bad things that have happened, i’ve felt so incredibly happy with you.” you felt heat grow in the back of your neck as she struggled to articulate her thoughts.

“the moon,” you said, cutting her off. she looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “if i could give you anything right now, i would give you the moon.” pointing up at the full moon, the both of you stopped talking for a moment to watch it.

it felt like a few minutes had passed before natalie looked back at you. her cheeks had visibly reddened, taking on a rosy shade. she took a step towards you, putting an arm loosely around your waist, the other rested on the side of your neck. her eyes darted down, lingering on your lips, before she pulled you in. her lips were warm and soft, and she kissed you with a gentle love that you had never felt before. you reluctantly kissed back, feeling yourself become one with her. it didn’t last long, but soon after, she wordlessly took your hand in hers, walking out of the water, towards the shore.

you shivered, partially from the cold, and partially from the possibility of her thinking that she made a mistake. she hadn’t said anything to you so surely, she regretted the kiss. suddenly, you were taken out of your thoughts by the feeling of nat’s letterman jacket being draped over your shoulders. she reached her hand into the pocket, retrieving her box of cigarettes and the purple lighter she had lit her first one with all those months ago. she popped the cigarette between her lips, lighting it quickly, then took a drag. still without saying anything, she handed it to you, letting you take a puff. you coughed, not used to the burn in your lungs, and she chuckled. “this was the perfect time to use my lucky cigarette. i was saving it - to smoke it with you.”

you blinked at her as she continued to talk, “i love you, (y/n). i think i’ve loved you since the day we first hunted together. you always make me so fucking happy, (y/n). i’m so in love with you.”

“shit…”, you mumbled to yourself, awestruck, “that’s a crazy coincidence, nat, because i think i’m in love with you too.”

she smiled wider than you had ever seen her smile before, and gave you another kiss. she tasted like tobacco, which you surprisingly didn’t mind. your heart erupted into a happy flutter of butterflies. you were ecstatic. after finishing the cigarette, the both of you felt dry enough to put your clothes back on and returned to the cabin, hand in hand.

once you were back in your sleeping area, she looped her arms around you, holding you tightly, as if you were like water in her hands - like she never wanted to let go of you and lose you.

the following morning, you were awoken by a flash and a clicking noise. tai and van had taken it upon themselves to take a photo of you and nat cuddling with the use of your polaroid camera. snickering, the two of them ran away from you and nat as you angrily chased them.

the two of you would never feel unsafe in this vast wilderness again, as you had each-other’s backs no matter what.

[mybeingthere]

Vanessa Bell, 1879 - 1961, British painter and designer.

The eldest of four children and sister of the future Virginia Woolf, Vanessa Bell was born to a wealthy and intellectual family: her mother, Julia Jackson, was the niece of a pioneering photographer, Julia Cameron, and one of the favourite models of the pre-Raphaelites; her father was Sir Leslie Stephen, a famous writer and alpinist. As a young woman, in 1901, she studied at the London Royal Academy of Art. After their parents died, the children continued to live together in central London. Within the Bloomsbury Group, Vanessa organised artistic evenings she called the “Friday Club.”

In 1907 she married the art critic Clive Bell, with whom she would have two sons. Her early paintings – Iceland Poppies (1908-1909), for example – show the joint influence of the American painters John Singer Sargent and James Abbott McNeill Whistler. She gradually became interested in Impressionism, particularly French post-Impressionism. A great admirer of Paul Cézanne, Camille Pissarro and Vincent Van Gogh, she painted portraits with synthetic outlines, simplified shapes and bold colours, like the portrait of her sister, Virginia Woolf (1912).

She made her first venture into decorative arts in 1910 with the Scottish painter Duncan Grant, with whom she had a daughter, Angelica, in 1918. The pair would work together throughout their lives. She painted boxes with geometric shapes that followed the aesthetic principle her husband had developed: the predominance of the “significant form” and of its outline and colour over the narrative subject. She took part in two exhibitions organised by Roger Fry in 1912: Quelques indépendants anglais (Barbazanges Gallery, Paris) and his second exhibition of post-impressionist art at the Grafton Galleries in London.

The following year, encouraged by Fry, she opened the Omega Workshops with Grant in London’s Fitzroy Square, where Woolf also lived. Inspired by the Wiener Werkstätte (the Viennese workshops) and Parisian fashion and interior design studios like Paul Poiret’s “Maison Martine,” the Omega Workshops employed artists on a daily basis to create fabric patterns, furniture, and interior design projects, thus promoting a dialogue between painting and decorative arts, in a search for equality between major and minor arts. In May 1914, she assisted Grant in Paris in the creation of costumes for Jacques Copeau’s staging of Twelfth Night, and visited the studios of Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse. Upon returning to London, she created a special section devoted to fashion at Omega.

From the article by Cécile Godefroy

[unsubconscious]

Charleston farmhouse in Sussex, home of the Bloomsbury set in the early 1900s, painted by Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant. Photographed by Alen Macweeney.

[bendawkins124]

Standing Male Nude c1935 by Duncan Grant, and a photograph of Russian ballet dancer Vaslav Nijinsky, in the studio at Charleston, East Sussex. Home of Duncan Grant and Vanessa Bell.

[thedeadleafs]

Vanessa Stephen, 1900s

"The artist Vanessa Stephen was the novelist Virginia Woolf's sister; perhaps the only studio photograph for which she ever sat, this was probably taken on the occasion of her marriage to the art critic Clive Bell. Both were leading members of the Bloomsbury Group, a set of bohemian artists and writers. Vanessa Bell was known for wearing daringly bright, flowing robes, but here she is more restrained in a simple dress."

Scanned and quoted from the book "Decades of Fashion" by Harriet Worsley.

[kimbersrp]

characters under the cut, organized by fc. if you want to rp with one, or a couple, of them just message me. (adding more as i go)

females; (multiple of the same fc)

dove cameron:

abbey sampson | 24 years old | dancer & singer | human

kimber halliwell | 26 years old | club owner | witch

jillian cowan | 27 years old | actress (depending on plot) | human

tatum monroe | 27 years old | baker | human

giorgia whigham:

stefanie myers | 27 years old | nurse | human

sydney sweeney:

charlotte brennon | 26 years old | forensic anthropology student | human

sabrina carpenter:

ryelle rothschild | 24 years old | jewelry store manager | human

jenna ortega:

tina gomez | 20 years old | college student | human

madelyn cline:

sammy yearwood | 26 years old | model | human

alycia debnam-carey:

alice westyn | 23 years old | ballet dancer | human or vampire (depending on the plot)

willa parker | 27 years old | bartender | human

cassie stevens | 27 years old | interior designer | human

claire holt:

olivia halliwell | 24 years old | nurse | witch

danielle rose russell:

anastasia hill | 23 years old | stylist | human

hope mikaelson | 23 years old | teacher at salvatore school | tribrid

mary mouser:

haley mason | 26 years old | makeup artist | human

nova munson | 25 years old | college student | human

lili reinhart:

adalynn hale | 22 years old | photographer | human

elisa harker | 22 years old | barista/college student | human or vampire (depending on the plot)

jaz sinclair:

mia ellis | 26 years old | casino dealer | human

josephine langford:

laurel harker | 24 years old | waitress & barista | human

katherine langford:

mina rollins | 25 years old | fashion designer | human

crystal reed:

trinity scott | 30 years old | club owner | human

allison argent | 26 years old | hunter | human

chloe bennet:

lana wang | 26 years old | waitress | human

daisy johnson | 28 years old | agent for s.h.i.e.l.d | inhuman

scout taylor-compton:

starla miller | 29 years old | pediatrician | human

candice accola:

annabelle 'belle' stone | 29 years old | pastry chef | human

harper halliwell | 25 years old | beautician | witch

zendaya coleman:

tatiana major | 24 years old | dancer | human

vanessa morgan:

shayna thompson | 30 years old | singer | human

toni topaz | 31 years old | bar owner | human

phoebe tonkin:

trixie turner | 27 years old | fashion designer | human or vampire (depending on the plot)

hayley marshall | 32 years old | bottle service girl | hybrid

mikey madison:

gabriella addams | 24 years old | dancer | human

---

males; (multiple of the same fc)

miles heizer:

tommy halliwell | 20 to 24 years old (depending on the plot) | photographer | witch

max timmons | 29 years old | cook | human

kyle gallner:

kieran halliwell | 27 years old | bartender | witch

quentin pierce | 28 years old | security guard | werewolf or human (depending on the plot)

jeremy allen white:

elliot stryker | 26 years old | mechanic | human

lip gallagher | 24 years old | architect | human

grant gustin:

barry allen | 29 years old | csi at ccpd & superhero | meta-human

campbell mills | 28 years old | artist | human

tom holland:

stevie langdon | 24 years old | writer | human

peter parker | 22 years old | college student & hero | superhuman

dylan o'brien:

stiles stilinski | 25 years old | fbi agent | human

daniel sharman:

killian samson | 27 years old | restaurant owner | human

dylan minnette:

wes jensen | 26 years old | veterinary assistant | human

joe keery:

steve harrington | 25 years old | sales associate at hot topic | human

kip ackerman | 27 years old | novelist | human

josh hutcherson:

ethan redfield | 27 years old | security guard | werewolf

christian bardot | 28 years old | waiter | human

tanner buchanan:

oliver halliwell | 23 years old | martial arts instructor | witch

xolo maridueña:

remy martinez | 22 years old | cook | human

[exhibit-of-the-century]

Lecture Notes MON 11th MARCH

Masterlist

BUY ME A COFFEE

Modernism, Medium and Modernity 1905-1970

Further Reading: Clive Bell (1881 - 1964) 'The Aesthetic Hypothesis'

Clement Greenberg (1909 - 1994) 'Modernist Painting'

Rosalind Krauss (b. 1940) 'A View of Modernism'

More and Other

Formalism: Significant Form

Significant form doesn’t really address the Avante-Garde and is mostly a theory in art history.

Vanessa Bell and her husband Clive Bell were the most vocal about significant form, where Birkbeck Art House is was where they lived and invited artists, critics and poets alike. Clive Bell also studied in France. In 1910 Fry curated ‘Manet and the Post-Impressionists’ at the Grafton Gallery, London. This exhibition is seen as the event that introduced French modern art into the UK. It was followed by a second exhibition in 1912.

And in 1914 Clive Bell published a book titled "Art”, where he discussed modern art, although it also addressed and encompassed all art. Significant form and aesthetic experience, in 1914 Bell coined the term ‘significant form’ to describe the characteristic he felt all genuine works of art shared. He said: ‘lines and colours combined in a particular way [ create] certain forms and relations of forms, [that] stir our aesthetic emotions’. It was not supposed to be specific to time or place and applied to things as different as a Persian carpet, a ‘negro’ sculpture, and a work by Cezanne. Significant form and beauty are two vastly different things, to the point where some suggest that something is not art if it doesn’t have significant form. This is visible in The Railway Station aka Victorian art. Significant form gave rise to aesthetic experience in those persons sensitive enough to feel it.

Significant Form: effect of line/colour has on our emotional response. (Main criticism: subjectivity)

William Powell Frith, The Railway Station, 1862

Bell thought a viewer could idle away an hour looking at the narrative anecdotes depicted in The Railway Station, but, in his view, this kind of narrative anecdotalist was not art. The Bloomsbury Group actively disliked Victorianism.

Truth to Materials: specific to modern art

“Every material has its own individual qualities … Stone, for example, is hard and concentrated and should not be falsified to look like soft flesh … It should keep its hard tense stoniness.”

Henri Moore, 1934

Henry Moore, Reclining Woman, 1930, green Hornton stone, 59.7 x 92.7 x 41.3 cm

For example the roughness of the stone is textural. This is part of truth to materials. Moreover, from this, sculpture was promoted in schools of art, especially in Russia, while Boa House was developing similar programs by students.

The different shapes of the metals demonstrate their material properties:

- the S-curve shows the great flexibility of tin;

- the triangle plate of brass highlights its qualities as a surface material;

- the steel ring showcases its strength and flexibility;

- the red-painted iron parabola is the stabilising, unifying, and dynamic force of the composition;

- the wood square is the base

Konstantin Medunetsky, Spatial Construction (Construction no. 557), 1919, tin, brass, painted iron and steel, 46 x 17.8 x 17.8 cm (Yale University Art Gallery)

Similar ideas were explored in photography, with Pictorialism: when photography was still new, and debates were still questioning if it was an art form. Ths directly impacted photos, to make them similar to art,

‘Perhaps we will be accused of effacing the specific character of photography. That indeed is our intention.’ – Demanchy & Puyo, 1906

‘Let the amateur photographer use as much oil, gum or platinum as he likes; let him touch up his photograph with paint or attack it with a scrapper; that is perfectly all right with me, so long as he show me a picture such as the next man could not produce.’ – Demanchy.

Avant-Garde: Photographs should not be based on artistic rules from ‘bygone eras of painting.’  Good photographs often ran ‘contrary to the “rules” of art.’ – Werner Graff, 1929

‘The beauty of photography is of the same kind as that of an airplane, an ocean liner, or an incandescent lamp… Photography is beautiful precisely when it is not art.’ – Karel Tiege

Heinrich Kühn, Decanter, 1907

Later people attempted to bring photography back to being “normal”, not art. Make it its own medium, not tampering with technical aspects.

The New Photography or ‘New Vision’

Rejects Pictorialism in favour of sharp focus and mass publication. Particular attention is paid to light and reflection; close-ups and unusual angles. Subjects are selected for sharp lines and reflections. Looking is particularly thematised. The ‘new photography’ is a meditation on vision in a technological society.

Rodchenko, Mother, 1924

Medium specificity: The American critic, Greenberg began writing in the late 1930s and was associated with the Trotskyist magazine Partisan Review. He championed modern art and was particularly important in promoting Abstract Expressionist painting.  While it wasn’t a theory he was proposing, it was just an observation.

Turning away from his earlier political commitments he pursued a formal study of art. Sculpture and painting are static and cannot have narrative. You are limited by the shape and size of the canvas.

Jackson Pollock, Autumn Rhythm (Number 30), 1950

Gotthold Ephraim Lessing in his book Laocoon: An Essay on the Limits of Painting and Poetry (1766) Set out what he saw as the key distinctions between the arts of painting, sculpture and poetry.

Greenberg in his essay ‘Towards a Newer Laocoon’ (1940) picked up this line of thinking and argued for the specific, non-literary character of painting.

In subsequent writings, he insisted the task of all art was self-criticism and focus on its inherent properties. This involved eliminating those dimensions or practices that were not specific to that particular art form. This argument is often called ‘medium specificity’.

All you could expect of a painting was for it to be good.            - See Clement Greenberg, ‘Modernist Painting’, 1960.

‘Where the Old Masters created an illusion of space into which one could imagine walking, the illusion created by a Modernist is one into which one can look, can travel through, only with the eye’. – Greenberg

‘Realistic, naturalistic art had dissembled the medium, using art to conceal art; Modernism used art to call attention to art.’ –Greenberg

(Top Left) Workshop of Titian, The Penitent Magdalen, 1576 (Top Right) Édouard Manet, Olympia (1863) (Bottom Left) Pablo Picasso, Girl with a Mandolin (Fanny Tellier), 1910 (Bottom Right) Piet Mondrian, Composition with Red, Blue and Yellow, 1930

Greenberg argued that he wasn’t developing a theory, but merely observing the development of the best modern art, such as that of Matisse and Picasso.

For Greenberg, it was the flatness of the support (the canvas) that was specific to painting. Greenberg was completely uninterested in the work of the historic avant-garde, which he saw as a side issue. He described this kind of art as a side street or side-stream to the mainstream of modernism. He sometimes referred to ‘novelty art’. In the 1955 essay ‘American-Type Painting’, Greenberg suggested that Abstract Expressionist painters such as Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Hans Hofmann, Barnett Newman, and Clyfford Still were the most advanced of their generation.

Modernity: Culture started to embody ethos of factory and its aesthetic. i.e Tiller Girls (Criticism of this: Charlie Chaplin “Modern Times”) Aka: The Capitalist Aesthetic

Another view of modern art and Modernism articulated by Marxist critics in the 1930s and picked up by art historians in the 1970s

Walter Benjamin, Bertolt Brecht, Theodor Adorno, & Siegfried Kracaeur.

This account is not concerned with medium specificity or truth to materials, but the use of forms and techniques to break the hold of commercial culture over everyday life.

The critic Meyer Schapiro described Impressionism as an art of spontaneous middle-class sociability.

During the 1930s the Marxist critics Walter Benjamin, Georg Lukács and TW Adorno debated montage.

Benjamin saw montage as a form of ‘Profane illumination’ cutting through the dreamworld of ideology to create a critical consciousness. His main example was drawn from Surrealism.

In contrast Adorno (along with Georg Lukács) believed collage – or montage – simply echoed the fragmenting effects of modern commodity exchange in which anything could appear alongside anything else. The effect was to produce disjointedness and lack of connection.

Kurt Schwitters, Merz Gurnfleck, 1920

Montage is a French word for assembling or editing.

All film involves montage, but mainstream cinema hides the cutting (continuity editing). Soviet film makers emphasised the cut, stressing contradiction or opposition). They connected this idea with Marxist dialectical thought. They juxtaposed different images to create something new. Kuleshov described this as the ‘montage of attractions’. It is sometimes referred to as the creation of a ‘third meaning’.

Kino Prawda was focused on montage and political too, which Greenberg would never approve of. These montage movies were important but lost momentum and are far less important today.

Kuleshov effect:

Eisenstein’s 5 techniques of montage: rhythmic montage; metric montage; tonal montage; over-tonal montage; and  intellectual montage.

Examples from Eisenstein’s fims, 6 mins: 

[pastedpast]

I mentioned Helen Martins' Owl House in a recent post and added a link to one I wrote about her when I first began this blog in February 2011. When I went to read the post myself, I realised I hadn't provided adequate visuals to give a clear idea of what her work looked like (oops!). So here are some to make up for it. The house is now a museum and I would love to visit, but it's in South Africa.

My original previous post was only quite brief (the link to it is here). I can now add that she was the youngest of six children and she did marry but it was not a happy union. She returned home to look after her frail parents until they died (in the first half of the 1940s). Remaining in the house on her own, she began designing sculptures which she employed itinerant sheepshearer and builder Koos Malgas to construct in the garden. They worked together for twelve years making sculptures out of cement. Subjects included owls, camels and Biblical characters. The style was highly idiosyncratic and is described as 'outsider art', although I think her interior design, (photographs of which I have included in the post below) displays a bold and enchanting understanding of colour, and is reminiscent of Charleston, the modernist home and studio of Bloomsbury Set painters, Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant.

Sadly, I believe Helen Martins was a figure of ridicule in the village where she lived and she was a recluse until she took her own life in 1976. Faced with failing health and fear of going blind, she ingested a mixture of caustic soda and crushed glass. What an absolutely wretched way to die. She must have been desperately unhappy.

Source: here.

[devianbooks]

Download in (PDF) Looking to Sea: Britain Through the Eyes of its Artists BY : Lily Le Brun

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Read More : [Read Now] Looking to Sea: Britain Through the Eyes of its Artists

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An alternative history of modern Britain, Looking to Sea is an exquisite work of cultural, artistic and philosophical storytelling.Looking to Sea considers ten pivotal artworks, from Vanessa Bell's Studland Beach, one of the first modernist paintings in Britain, to Paul Nash's work bearing the scars of his experience in the trenches and Martin Parr's photographs of seaside resorts in the 1980s, which raised controversial questions of class. Each of the startlingly different pieces, created between 1912 and 2015, opens a window onto big ideas, from modernism and the sublime, the impact of the world wars and colonialism, to issues crucial to our world today like the environment and nationhood.In this astonishingly perceptive portrait of the twentieth century, art critic Lily Le Brun brings a fresh eye to a vast idea, offering readers an imaginative new way of seeing our island nation.'Le Brun's writing is at once bold and delicate, far-reaching and fine-tuned. Her book explores the

[internatlvelvet]

Duncan Grant outside a house at Cassis in the South of France. 1928.

[wayfaringdays]

A light drizzle greeted us during our lunch break. Butterflies were flying wild and I along with a classmate ran after them to catch a few. We were so engrossed that we missed the school bell and by the time we realized and reached our class, we were almost drenched. The teacher duly punished us of course. I was in Class 4 and like most kids, was fascinated by butterflies.

Later that day, after reaching home I told my mother about the fun we had catching butterflies. She told me that one should never catch a butterfly, as touching them would make their wings heavy and that would hamper their flying. I never tried to catch one by the wing from that day.

Decades later, while shooting birds, I also photographed butterflies, bugs, flowers and what not. But, my interest in butterflies increased many folds after I met Chandrima. She is a butterfly enthusiast and the trips with her have been rich with butterflying adventure.

This photograph is of the Painted Lady (Vanessa cardui) butterfly, which is the most widespread of all butterfly species.

[darylelockhart]

The best art books of 2022

by Eliza Goodpasture, PhD candidate in the History of Art at the University of York

The category of “art book” is vast, like art itself, but the best ones mix beautiful, interesting images with engaging and intelligent text. The books on this short list range from groundbreaking scholarly texts to dreamy, personal reflections, but all find that balance between image and narrative that makes an art book special. Each pushes the boundaries of scholarship, book design and ways of thinking about art and history in exhilarating ways.

1. Diane Arbus Documents

This book about the seminal and controversial 20th-century photographer Diane Arbus is remarkable and perhaps unique. It was published to accompany the rehang of the record-breaking 1972 MoMA Diane Arbus exhibition at David Zwirner and Fraenkel Galleries in New York, as they jointly took up representation of the artist’s estate.

But it is not a catalogue of the exhibition, and features hardly any of Arbus’s photographs. Instead, it is a collection of written essays, reviews, scholarly articles and a few letters by and about Arbus. The written works have been reproduced as they were originally published, which makes the book feel like a scrapbook.

Reviews of the original exhibition must be read on yellowed newsprint, surrounded by 1970s advertisements. The text itself becomes an object, almost a work of art. Here, Arbus’s photographs are reproductions of reproductions in articles. It’s an amazing visual feast that makes the case for the aesthetic value of ephemera.

Photography has always grappled with the meaning of reproductions and the importance of the authenticity of a work of art that can be printed over and over. Rather than resolving this debate, this book embraces the ambiguity. Rarely is the whole conversation about an artist gathered together in this way, allowing the reader to draw their own conclusions.

Very little interpretative text has been added, although the passages that are there to explain each section of collected texts do a succinct job of keeping the reader oriented on the journey through Arbus’s legacy from the 1970s to the present day.

2. Letters to Gwen John

Contemporary British painter Celia Paul’s exquisite encounter with the early 20th-century modernist English painter Gwen John evokes an imagined figure of the artist rather than a biographical one. In so doing, it also brings Paul herself into greater clarity as an artist and person.

Over the course of 18 months, Paul writes letters addressed to Gwen John, whom she has never met. Indeed, they were never even alive at the same time – Paul was born in 1959, 20 years after John’s death. Paul muses that she has always felt a connection to John, not just because of the similarities in the way they paint.

As the relationship between the two women builds through Paul’s one-way correspondence, the connections between them do seem to be uncanny. Both women had romantic relationships with famous older male artists (Paul with Lucian Freud, John with Auguste Rodin); both aggressively defended their solitary, ascetic homes; both made small and unfashionable work that eventually found acclaim; and both had close but conflicted relationships with their mothers and siblings.

Through Paul’s eyes, John comes to life in a way she never could to a historian. The way that she is able to critique and evoke the drama of being in a relationship with an older, powerful male artist, for example, is nuanced and vulnerable rather than objective. This strange and magical exercise in imagination and friendship across time and space is an utterly revelatory piece of art writing.

3. The Real and the Romantic: English Art Between the Two World Wars

Frances Spalding’s latest book continues her move towards a focus on networks and groups of artists, after several decades of writing notable biographies, such as her acclaimed 2016 work Vanessa Bell: Portrait of the Bloomsbury Artist.

Here she writes about the years between the two world wars, which have traditionally been overlooked in the history of English and British art, arguing that the dichotomy between the “real” and the “romantic” is not as clear-cut as it has been made out to be. Both qualities are generally excluded from narratives of modernism in favour of a focus on abstraction and conceptual innovation.

Spalding disrupts this traditional categorisation in a moment of reckoning with the boundaries of “English art” and “British art” – her book is distinctly concerned with English art, not with a far-reaching British art that is now understood in terms of Empire.

In this beautifully illustrated volume, she engages with a vast cast of artists, many of whom are rarely discussed, such as Anna Airy, or whose later careers are often forgotten, like Walter Sickert. She examines the retreat from modernism after world war one, the legacies of trauma, industrialised warfare and the changing gender roles caused by war.

Her analysis is not limited to individual artists, but also includes arts institutions: museums, government-run funding programmes (or lack of), and exhibiting bodies large and small. The book deftly weaves together visual analysis and social history to give the reader a thorough picture of the development of English art in this pivotal historical moment.

A Revolution on Canvas: The Rise of Women Artists in Britain and France, 1760-1830

With this groundbreaking work, Paris A Spies-Gans confronts head-on the challenging questions about how to write a history of women artists. She uses a data-driven approach to counter assumptions made through the field of art history that women did not enter the artistic profession in significant numbers until the late 19th century.

Focusing on exhibition records from the Royal Academy in London, and the French Salon des Beaux-Arts, she demonstrates that more women were represented in these key venues in the 18th century than are represented in museum collections in the same cities today (7-12% then to about 5% now).

She avoids overly quantitative pitfalls by weaving individual stories and archival documents through her narrative, and by continuing to return to the big question: why has the success and prominence of women artists in this period been so completely forgotten? When we ask “why have there been no great women artists?” as Linda Nochlin famously did, how are we defining “great”?

The book is not only engrossing and stuffed with ravishing images, but also offers a truly pioneering rebuttal to “revisionist” art history by claiming that, in this case, no revision is needed: women artists were already great.

[asgoodeasgold]

I an not sure I agree with the typecast bit, and I hope that by 'quiet sexiness' they mean 'effortless' (coz it packs a punch) but I LOVE Matthew being described as the combustion engine of The Crown 💥

It's so true, him and Vanessa Kirby set the screen on fire! Adding this edit (from a photograph by Jason Bell/Netflix via Vanity Fair) I made at the time of my rewatch last year, coz also the article has a picture of Matthew as Henry Talbot in Downton Abbey. Completely different vibe!

Matthew Goode has built a solid career on being typecast as quietly sexy men who are probably going to f*** your life up, and his take on Tony, second boyfriend to Princess Margaret, is no exception. While the heat generated between Liz and Philip is rather chaste (and the temperature between Charles and Diana positively Baltic), Tony is The Crown’s internal combustion engine. But of course it couldn’t end happily – it’s Matthew Goode, after all.

The look: 7 out of 10

The voice: 6 out of 10

Mannerisms: 6 out of 10

Watchability: 7 out of 10

[surra-de-bunda]

Vanessa Bell Calloway, AJ Johnson & Tisha Campbell at the premiere for "House Party" photographed by Ralph Dominguez (1990).