I'd like to begin by saying that I understand why we have name cards next to artworks in museums, but I kind of wish that it was only revealed to us after we have decided that we care about the piece. I find sometimes my eyes track to the name card first and then my brain deems the piece important or unimportant. At that point my experience of the work is already kind of decided.
The pieces that most struck me at this museum are as follows, in keeping with my inclination toward works being unidentified, a list of works and their artists will be included in order, at the end of the piece.
Part of what struck me with this drawing was the size of it. Rarely do I come across such large pencil crayon coloured-pencil works. Why is homie's skin so stretchy? This feels like maybe unreal, like an ethereal being. Is this an ideal person showing off their flexibility? Although this kind of stretching might realistically be rather painful, this image somehow just makes me feel light and silly.
It was absolutely incredible to see wood be turned into a soft material. I love seeing a hard material flowing and turning into something malleable.
This work felt whatever to me, but what really caught my attention is how the artist or the curator trusted that the viewer would ignore the mess of cables and devices - unless I'm totally wrong and those are actually part of the piece ( I doubt it). In art or in life its these details that can hugely affect the outcome of a moment. Don't ever assume that the viewer will give you the benefit of doubt, because we can always feel the moments where you compromised on effort.
Walking past this painting I smiled. The first piece of the day that caught my attention and showed me the depth it had within.
I honestly just walk right past most works when I visit museums, unless they invite me in, i mean - if the painting doesn't bother to start the conversation, frankly I've got other places to be.
I love these works of light. This is an example of work that invites you in to participate, I mean you can always feel these works from the next room over, gently pulling you in, asking for your eyes. It always feels like seeing an old friend from a distance, awaiting your shared embrace.
This is the only piece in the Electric Op exhibition I found to be inviting. A beautiful exploration of human perception, with colour and lines. I wasn't really drawn to the Electric Op movement. Not enough emotion in it for a Cancer girl like me.
Marky is underrated imo.... Exploring how colours represent our emotions in pure form. One of the most powerful works that I have ever intaracted with - feels like its something on a primal level. I love when a piece of art feels like it just punched you and I've been in fights with Rothko. For sure.
So much fun here, first i thought this might be the view of the stars form the Sun, but as titled Orange Crush this piece is so evidently a freshly poured glass of Orange Crush.... I am glad i got to have my my own feelings toward the piece too, like my perspective was heard here.
Ok not to be dramatic, no exaggeration I stood in front of this painting for 15 minutes or so. I just couldn't stop listening to what Jack had to say. I was amazed at the different layers of paint, you could tell he started with the black and the negative space and revisited the piece and decided to add the colour. This piece made me super emotional, granted - I didn't cry but I teared up. Jack was clearly angry and sad when he made this piece. Also love this little bits of cigarette ash you can find throughout the piece if u look real close. To me this painting is raw emotion. Like someone screaming and then crying because they are so overwhelmed by their emotions.
One of the best paintings that I have seen in my life, one of my favourites. I had no idea this was in Buffalo, which honestly brings the whole city up a step in my eyes. This painting came at a time when movement was rarely seen represented in the medium of painting. Look how dynamic the colours are. The movement isn't expressed simply in the blur effect, but the colours that join in once an object moves throughout the light are present.
Oh man, splish splash. I was mesmerized. I heard these waves, I smelled the French oceanscape. This isn't a painting, this is bottled up essence.
Same with this sky, baaagod. The wisps of clouds and the pink hue of the sunsetting, on the sky. The golden colours. The shadows. The sky is never just blue. We may have grown used to the every day beauty of the sky but if you pay attention you will find magical and colourful details.
Seriously the audacity here. I could hear this dress moving about the room. Not only is this an image of unbelievable seamswork but to then take the care to express these details in paint.... respect.
One of the first works I saw under the influence of LSD at Centres Georges Pompidou when I was in Paris in 2018, Derain lives in my mind rent free and he's welcome to stay there for the rest of my life. Regardless of the drugs, I now see the world completely differntly. This is reality, I know it doesn't look like it, but when you really pay attention to the beauty of the world, this is what it looks like.
It often annoys me when we don't get to touch the art, Calder works are not meant to be static - I had to blow this piece a gentle gentle lil kiss, otherwise I'm not actually seeing the work that Alexander intended for us to see.
Also if I broke it, which - don't be dramatic - I would have fixed it ok.
"A sculpture should be alive, moving, and free."
As promised.... Here's the list of works and their creators:
An Elastic Skin Man, 1975 - Marisol
My Father, 1977 - Marisol
Junk, 2003 - Oursler
Feeling His Oats, 1988 - Colescott
Untitled (to Donna) 6, 1971 - Flavin
Vega-Nor, 1969 - Vasarely
Orange and Yellow, 1956 - Rothko
Orange Crush, 1963 - Poons
Convergence, 1952 - Pollock
Dinamismo di un cane al guinzaglio (Dynamism of a Dog on a Leash), 1912 - Balla
Les Falaises de Gréville (The Cliffs of Gréville), 1871-1872 - Millet
Harvesting, 1893 - Olde
L'Ambitieuse (Political Woman), 1883-1885 - Tissot
Les Arbres (The Trees), ca. 1906 - Derain
The Black Sieve, 1957 - Alexander Calder
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