Lux Lotus

The Smart Set: February 28 - March 6

This week's edition of the Smart Set, my weekly round-up of fear and loathing New York's noteworthy cultural events at premiere literary weblog, MaudNewton.com, is now available for your perusal:

TUESDAY, 3.1: If Andy Warhol were organizing a panel today, a few deeply superficial people would get together for oh, 15 minutes or so, to talk shop -- and the latest issue of Star or New Beauty magazine , no doubt -- and then the party would start. Instead, The Kitchen "brings together scholars, biographers, and distinguished Factory alumni to discuss how Warhol's conversations and physical presence reflected and influenced his art, thinking, and public image." Yawn; see you in the bathroom. 7:00pm, $8.

There are six more where that came from -- ostensibly right here.

Black Beauty and the Muse

Lalique has released a limited new collection of black crystal versions of some of its classic and reworked pieces. "Bacchantes" (c. 1927) is pictured here, and it's the one I like best because of its bold and refreshing take on a classical motif. Wallpaper has the full story.

Places I Have Worked: A Critique

I still have friends who work for various organizations affiliated with the U.S. labor movement, and I usually refrain from comment since I traded that career path for another a couple of years ago. However, I will say this: the fact that anyone thinks that Andy Stern is the face of progress speaks volumes for the movement's failure as a force for social change in America today. That is all.

La Paresse

A couple of weeks ago, I stopped by Maya Schaper Cheese & Antiques with my friend Kevin. I admired a framed '70s-era UK exhibition poster with a print of Swiss artist Felix Vallotton's engraving, La Paresse, and Kevin bought it for me on the spot as an early birthday present! It was really quite magical. I've hung it next to my bed, so that it's the first thing I see every morning.

The image seen here is from Cornell University's Johnson Art Museum, another place I like to visit now and then. There is also a nice portfolio of Vallotton's work online here, and a foundation dedicated to preserving and promoting his work (don't miss the gorgeous online gallery).

Related from the LL Archives: The Charms of Small Collections.

Gates Today, Gone Tomorrow

I finally was able to make time today to experience "The Gates" in Central Park, and it was quite lovely. I think public art is one of a handful of things that makes city feel more liveable and culturally alive, and that was certainly true this afternoon.

The park was fairly crowded, but some spots were less so than others, and then it was nice to experience the whole thing as kind of a Zen Buddhist walking meditation, which is how it seemed most meaningful to me personally. Knowing that the temporary exhibition will be dismantled tomorrow made it seem especially beautiful, and I was gratified to learn that many of the materials used for the project will be recycled or repurposed. I even took a picture for you!

Afterward, I stopped by the Cooper-Hewitt design shop, which is one of my absolute favorite places to browse and enjoy looking at beautiful things. I was especially enthused by both the clear glass "Wagenfeld" tea set, sort of Bauhaus-esque in its functional austerity, and its cosmic twin at the other end of the universe, a French porcelain full tea service designed by Cindy Sherman, featuring her face superimposed over that of Madame de Pompadour.

I also spent some time flipping through The Biba Experience, and admiring a blanket made from antique kimonos. And - oh yes! - the whole thing reminded me that I wanted to mention Orange Alert, a yearlong program showcasing the latest in Dutch design, in New York, including an exhibition curated by Viktor & Rolf.

Constantine: Hot or Not?

Last night I was in the mood for a movie, but found the offerings in my un-hip neighborhood less than tepid. I decided to go see Constantine because, ceteris paribus, films adapted from comic books are usually at least visually arresting and offer promisingly complex characters, if true to form (e.g. Hellboy, while not a memorable film, did feature the stylish Selma Blair as a young woman given to bursting into flames; an anti-Joan of Arc for the 21st Century?). While I wouldn't exactly recommend Constantine (too many loose threads in the narrative subtext caused the plot to unfray towards the end), it does feature the extraordinary Tilda Swinton as a gorgeous, unsympathetic version of the angel Gabriel. Her costuming and pre-Raphaelite curls were stunning, topped off nicely with enormous wings covered in black feathers. Sadly, I couldn't find any photos online but it was a good look. I also liked the use of religious iconography in the film, and Keanu Reeves' black & white wardrobe, which looked like Costume National, was also very well done and pitch perfect.

Forsaking All Else for Futurist Flowers

I was thinking about Arte Povera, and the Smithsonian, and the politics of museums, and a number of other interconnected ideas, when I suddenly wanted to know the name of an installation I saw at the Hirschhorn about ten years ago. It involved rags and wrinkled clothing in piles and I remember it leaving such an impression on me; I felt like I understood both the immense waste of Western culture and the siren song of materialism for the first time. A fairly recent exhibition at the Tate (that I sadly missed) summed up the movement nicely:

As the Italian miracle of the post-war years collapsed into a chaos of economic and political instability, Arte Povera erupted from within a network of urban cultural activity. This exhibition encompasses a decade that opened with the birth of this energetic scene and closed with the emergence of these artists as individuals of significance within an international arena.

As opposed to endorsing a distinctive style, Arte Povera described a process of open-ended experimentation. In the wake of the iconoclastic artistic innovations of Italian precursors Lucio Fontana and Piero Manzoni, artists were able to begin from a zero point, working outside formal limitations. Arte Povera therefore denotes not an impoverished art, but an art made without restraints, a laboratory situation in which a theoretical basis was rejected in favour of a complete openness towards materials and processes.

The artists associated with Arte Povera worked in many different ways. They painted, sculpted, took photographs and made performances and installations, creating works of immense physical presence as well as small-scale, ephemeral gestures. They employed materials both ancient and modern, man-made and 'raw', revealing the elemental forces locked within them as well as the fields of energy that surround us. They explored the context of art-making itself, and the space of the gallery, as well as the world beyond the gallery, reflecting on the relationship between art and life. Essentially, they placed the viewer at the centre of a discussion about experience and meaning.

I was looking on the Hirshhorn website, and I found that you can search for all sort of criteria: "American Eccentrics" (Lee Bontecou, Louise Bourgeois, and 95 other examples) was the best I came across. I started searching by "Italian" for artist nationality since Arte Povera wasn't an option, which is how I came across Futurist Giacomo Balla's positively divine flower sculptures, seen here. And I just love them. Looking at them makes me feel rather optimistic, and conjures thoughts of spring, as proper futurist flowers should!

I am having my own little tour of the work by Italian artists represented in the collection tonight! Other faves: a Vanessa Beecroft photo, a sculpture by Giacomo Manzu, Giorgio Morandi's Still Life With Flask, a Modigliani bust, but of course...

Related: 5 Things Tyler Green of the excellent Modern Art Notes blog would change about the art scene in his hometown of DC (and mine, too). Hmmm, the Corcoran really does kindof suck, doesn't it?

The fashion line People Used to Dream About the Future.

Art Crush: Kinetoh

Reported by Rhizome:

Kinetoh is an Italy-based group that produces generative artworks. These authors, following traditions of European Neo-Constructivism, Neo-Plasticism and Lyric Abstraction, make series of software that produce high-resolution images reminiscent of Modernist forms. Kinetoh dismantles the models of the last avant-garde by creating the simulacrum of such from software programs capable of imitating, nearly perfectly, those materials that belong to classic art, like pencil, charcoal, and watercolor... Instead of targeting a movement well-established and recognizable, like Abstract Expressionism or Conceptualism, Kinetoh's strategy is to examine the second line and not so well-explored spaces in Modern Art. Just because of this, they maintain subversive potential (finally, Vermeer became famous in late 19th century, after the discovery of photography).

I love it.

Lotus in the Mud

I love that so many people in New York are do-ers, and actually make things happen. It's a brilliant, magical thing.

A few of my friends founded the new company, Zoo Theatre, which is dedicated to bringing the joys of vibrant theater to a wider audience (e.g. people who don't want to spend $100 for a showboat spectacle intended to awe the B&T crowd with uh, pyrotechnics or alarmingly re-hashed pop culture).

I've been helping les Zoos out with some publicity advice, and my pitch to you is simply this: join us. I'll be putting on my long gloves and making sure my Veronica Lake waves look just right tomorrow night...

Their latest production, a revival of Maria Irene Fornes' dark comedy, the American classic, Mud, opens Thursday and runs through Sunday.

***Oooh bonus*** a tip that you don't even need a secret decoder ring to uncover:
Visit their new blog for a helluva deal on this weekend's smartest ticket in town.

UPDATE: I saw the play and it is really something -- gritty, sexy, and very fresh!

Le Cas du Sac

One of the most clever, intriguing things I experienced in Paris was the "Le Cas du Sac" exhibition, co-sponsored by Hermes, at Musee de la Mode et du Textile. Arranged by function and purpose (bags for magic!) in a typically whimsical fashion, the bags on display all demonstrated a true sense of artistry.