View allAll Photos Tagged Introspection
Elements
Angelite – assists in the understanding of one’s inner being
Amethyst – stimulates the mind; a tool for spiritual expansion and cognitive understanding
Amber – assists in finding purpose and strength, helping one’s reality evolve toward higher consciousness
Amazonite – a stone of truth; assists in perception of the truth for oneself and in others
Hand cut china
A Confederate Soldier at the Civil War Reenactment that took place on July 2nd, 2011 at the Willamette Mission State Park in Oregon.
American Cheese: an introspection, opening reception and grand cheese event, Thursday, January 28, 2010 at the Patricia Doran Gallery at The Massachusetts College of Art and Design. Participating artists: lou suSi, Scott Murray, and David Tames, in support of initial cyberSurrealistic activities in 2010.
American Cheese: an introspection, opening reception and grand cheese event, Thursday, January 28, 2010 at the Patricia Doran Gallery at The Massachusetts College of Art and Design. Participating artists: lou suSi, Scott Murray, and David Tames, in support of initial cyberSurrealistic activities in 2010.
As one of my favorite photos, I believe that this encompasses what is "Daydream Nation." The picture symbolizes a love of music and introspection in which the subject seems lonely yet content.
I mean, what else is better than to put on some nice music, lie down on the floor, and simply dream the day away?
Rooms by the Sea - 1951
Artist: Edward Hopper (American, 1882–1967)
As a mature artist, Edward Hopper spent most of his summers on Cape Cod, Massachusetts. There, he designed and built a sunny, secluded studio at Truro, on a bluff overlooking the water. The view in Rooms by the Sea resembles what Hopper would have seen out the back door of his studio. But the description that he gave this painting in his notebook—"The Jumping Off Place"—suggests that the image is more a metaphor of solitude and introspection than a depiction of the actual place. Like Hopper’s most arresting images, this scene seems to be realistic, abstract, and surrealistic all at once.
"Rooms by the Sea is a 1951 painting by American realist Edward Hopper. It is a late period painting completed in the fall at his Cape Cod summer home and studio in South Truro, Massachusetts. The work depicts an empty room with a door opening to the sea, letting sunlight into that room and another room behind it. It is the first of two paintings with the shared theme of an empty room without people but filled with light, followed by Sun in an Empty Room (1963). Although Hopper adamantly rejected the characterization, art critics have noted elements of abstract art and surrealism in the work....
Katharine Kuh describes the painting as "virtually abstract", in spite of Hopper's strong resistance to the term as a modern American realist. Lloyd Goodrich once informed Hopper that he had given a lecture showing the compositional geometry of High Noon (1949) alongside the work of abstract artist Piet Mondrian, to which Hopper responded tersely: "You kill me." Art historian Charles W. Millard also maintained that Hopper was an abstract painter, citing Rooms by the Sea and Sun in an Empty Room as two examples. Millard notes that Hopper had a penchant for "rigorous geometric abstraction" by way of his use of color, but that he was unable to transition to pure abstraction due to his artistic background. Rooms by the Sea has been described as a "formal geometric study of light and shadow", and can be viewed in the abstract tradition of artists like Andrew Wyeth and surrealists like René Magritte. Joseph Stanton describes the painting as highly reminiscent of Magritte, also noting that Magritte's The Empire of Light II (1950) displays Hopper-like aspects.]. Art critic Ken Johnson acknowledges that Rooms by the Sea is "borderline surrealistic", calling it one of Hopper's "strangest" works.."
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rooms_by_the_Sea
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Yale University has been collecting American art for more than 250 years. In 1832 it erected the first art museum on a college campus in North America, with the intention of housing John Trumbull’s paintings of the American Revolution—including his iconic painting The Declaration of Independence, July 4, 1776—and close to 100 of his portraits of Revolutionary and Early Republic worthies. Since then, the collection of the Yale University Art Gallery has grown to include celebrated works of art from virtually every period in American history. Encompassing works like an exquisite 18th-century watercolor-on-ivory memorial portrait of a bride, paintings of the towering grandeur of the American West in the 19th century, and jazz-influenced abstractions of the early 20th century, the Gallery’s collection reflects the diversity and artistic ambitions of the nation.
Superb examples from a “who’s who” of American painters and sculptors—including works by Benjamin West, John Singleton Copley, Ralph Earl, Albert Bierstadt, Hiram Powers, Frederic Church, Frederick Remington, Thomas Eakins, Winslow Homer, Augustus Saint-Gaudens, George Bellows, John Singer Sargent, Joseph Stella, Gerald Murphy, Eli Nadelman, Arthur Dove, Thomas Hart Benton, Edward Hopper, Alexander Calder, and Stuart Davis—bring the complex American story to life. Now these extraordinary works of art are in a new home—the elegantly restored galleries in Street Hall, the magnificent Ruskinian Gothic building designed in 1867 by Peter Bonnett Wight to be the first art school in America on a college campus. Rich in architectural detail and nobly proportioned, these breathtaking spaces allow the American collections to “breathe,” to present new visual alliances, and to create multiple artistic conversations. Under soaring skylights, the uniqueness of vision that generations of American artists brought to bear in the service of their art will be on full display.
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artgallery.yale.edu/collection?f%5B0%5D=on_view%3AOn%20vi...
The early years of the 20th century were characterized in the visual arts by a radical international reassessment of the relationship between vision and representation, as well as of the social and political role of artists in society at large. The extraordinary modern collection at the Yale University Art Gallery spans these years of dramatic change and features rich holdings in abstract painting by artists such as Pablo Picasso, Georges Braque, and Wassily Kandinsky, as well as in paintings and sculptures associated with German Expressionism, Russian Constructivism, De Stijl, Dada, and Surrealism. Many of these works came to Yale in the form of gifts and bequests from important American collections, including those of Molly and Walter Bareiss, B.S. 1940s; Stephen Carlton Clark, B.A. 1903; Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon, B.A. 1929; Katharine Ordway; and John Hay Whitney.
Art from 1920 to 1940 is strongly represented at the Gallery by the group of objects collected by the Société Anonyme, an artists’ organization founded by Katherine S. Dreier and Marcel Duchamp with Man Ray. This remarkable collection, which was transferred to Yale in 1941, comprises a rich array of paintings, drawings, prints, and sculptures by major 20th-century artists, including Marcel Duchamp, Constantin Brancusi, El Lissitzky, and Piet Mondrian, as well as lesser-known artists who made important contributions to the modernist movement.
The Gallery is also widely known for its outstanding collection of American painting from after World War II. Highlights include Jackson Pollock’s Number 13A: Arabesque (1948) and Roy Lichtenstein’s Blam (1962), part of a larger gift of important postwar works donated to the Gallery by Richard Brown Baker, B.A. 1935. Recent gifts from Charles B. Benenson, B.A. 1933, and Thurston Twigg-Smith, B.E. 1942, have dramatically expanded the Collection with works by artists such as James Rosenquist, Ed Ruscha, and Wayne Thiebaud.
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Yale University Art Gallery is the oldest college art museum in America. The Gallery’s encyclopedic holdings of more than 250,000 objects range from ancient times to the present day and represent civilizations from around the globe. Spanning a block and a half of the city of New Haven, Connecticut, the Gallery comprises three architecturally distinct buildings, including a masterpiece of modern architecture from 1953 designed by Louis Kahn through which visitors enter. The museum is free and open to the public.
www.archdaily.com/83110/ad-classics-yale-university-art-g...
Yale University’s School of Architecture was in the midst of pedagogical upheaval when Louis Kahn joined the faculty in 1947. With skyscraper architect George Howe as dean and modernists like Kahn, Philip Johnson, and Josef Albers as lecturers, the post-war years at Yale trended away from the school’s Beaux-Arts lineage towards the avant-garde. And so, when the consolidation of the university’s art, architecture, and art history departments in 1950 demanded a new building, a modernist structure was the natural choice to concretize an instructional and stylistic departure from historicism. Completed in 1953, Louis Kahn’s Yale University Art Gallery building would provide flexible gallery, classroom, and office space for the changing school; at the same time, Kahn’s first significant commission signaled a breakthrough in his own architectural career—a career now among the most celebrated of the second half of the twentieth century.
The university clearly articulated a program for the new gallery and design center (as it was then called): Kahn was to create open lofts that could convert easily from classroom to gallery space and vice versa. Kahn’s early plans responded to the university’s wishes by centralizing a core service area—home to the stairwell, bathrooms, and utility shafts—in order to open up uninterrupted space on either side of the core. Critics have interpreted this scheme as a means of differentiating “service” and “served” space, a dichotomy that Kahn would express often later in his career. As Alexander Purves, Yale School of Architecture alumnus and faculty member, writes of the gallery, “This kind of plan clearly distinguishes between those spaces that ... house the building's major functions and those that are subordinated to the major spaces but are necessary to support them.” As such, the spaces of the gallery dedicated to art exhibition and instruction are placed atop a functional hierarchy, above the building’s utilitarian realms; still, in refusing to hide—and indeed, centralizing—the less glamorous functions of the building, Kahn acknowledged all levels of the hierarchy as necessary to his building’s vitality.
Within the open spaces enabled by the central core, Kahn played with the concept of a space frame. He and longtime collaborator Anne Tyng had been inspired by the geometric forms of Buckminster Fuller, whom Tyng studied under at the University of Pennsylvania and with whom Kahn had corresponded while teaching at Yale. It was with Fuller’s iconic geometric structures in mind that Kahn and Tyng created the most innovative element of the Yale Art Gallery: the concrete tetrahedral slab ceiling. Henry A. Pfisterer, the building’s structural engineer, explains the arrangement: "a continuous plane element was fastened to the apices of open-base, hollow, equilateral tetrahedrons, joined at the vertices of the triangles in the lower plane.” In practice, the system of three-dimensional tetrahedrons was strong enough to support open studio space—unencumbered by columns—while the multi-angular forms invited installation of gallery panels in times of conversion.
Though Kahn’s structural experimentation in the Yale Art Gallery was cutting-edge, his careful attention to light and shadow evidences his ever-present interest in the religious architecture of the past. Working closely with the construction team, Kahn and Pfisterer devised a system to run electrical ducts inside the tetrahedrons, allowing light to diffuse from the hollow forms. The soft, ambient light emitted evokes that of a cathedral; Kahn’s gallery, then, takes subtle inspiration from the nineteenth-century neo-Gothic gallery it adjoins.
Of the triangulated, concrete slab ceiling, Kahn said “it is beautiful and it serves as an electric plug." ] This principle—that a building’s elements can be both sculptural and structural—is carried into other areas of the gallery. The central stairwell, for example, occupies a hollow, unfinished concrete cylinder; in its shape and utilitarianism, the stairwell suggests the similarly functional agricultural silo. On the ceiling of the stairwell, however, an ornamental concrete triangle is surrounded at its circumference by a ring of windows that conjures a more elevated relic of architectural history: the Hagia Sophia. Enclosed within the cylinder, terrazzo stairs form triangles that mimic both the gallery’s ceiling and the triangular form above. In asserting that the stairs “are designed so people will want to use them,” Kahn hoped visitors and students would engage with the building, whose form he often described in anthropomorphic terms: “living” in its adaptability and “breathing” in its complex ventilation system (also encased in the concrete tetrahedrons).
Given the structural and aesthetic triumphs of Kahn’s ceiling and stair, writing on the Yale Art Gallery tends to focus on the building’s elegant interior rather than its facade. But the care with which Kahn treats the gallery space extends outside as well; glass on the west and north faces of the building and meticulously laid, windowless brick on the south allow carefully calculated amounts of light to enter.
Recalling the European practice, Kahn presents a formal facade on York Street—the building’s western frontage—and a garden facade facing neighboring Weir Hall’s courtyard.
His respect for tradition is nevertheless articulated in modernist language.
Despite their visual refinement, the materials used in the gallery’s glass curtain walls proved almost immediately impractical. The windows captured condensation and marred Kahn’s readable facade. A restoration undertaken in 2006 by Ennead Architects (then Polshek Partnership) used modern materials to replace the windows and integrate updated climate control. The project also reversed extensive attempts made in the sixties to cover the windows, walls, and silo staircase with plaster partitions. The precise restoration of the building set a high standard for preservation of American modernism—a young but vital field—while establishing the contentiously modern building on Yale’s revivalist campus as worth saving.
Even with a pristinely restored facade, Kahn’s interior still triumphs. Ultimately, it is a building for its users—those visitors who, today, view art under carefully crafted light and those students who, in the fifties, began their architectural education in Kahn’s space. Purves, who spent countless hours in the fourth-floor drafting room as an undergraduate, maintains that a student working in the space “can see Kahn struggling a bit and can identify with that struggle.” Architecture critic Paul Goldberger, who studied at Yale a decade after Kahn’s gallery was completed, offers a similar evaluation of the building—one echoed by many students who frequented the space: “its beauty does not emerge at first glance but comes only after time spent within it.”
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CD Release Introspection by Joel Heyard - Dudelange - Op der Schmelz CNA - 15/11/2018 - photo: claude piscitelli