003. Micro-Reliquary
Hello ####,
Since I'm in the throes of midterms at this present moment (and just spent half of this week with my mom who came up to visit), this week's letter is little shorter than usual. Hope you enjoy:
TOUCH
I picked up Colston Whitehead's The Colossus of New York to read for one of my classes, but this book has quickly become a personal favorite, wrapped its arms around me, and kept me comforted this past week. A series of vignettes (or meditations?) on New York City, Whitehead wanders down into the subway during the busy morning commute, takes you to Central Park on the first day of spring, through the eyes of passengers streaming out of buses and into Port Authority. This lyrical narrative captures life for the young and old, new arrivals and longtime residents with unquestionable honesty. Read when you feel lonely or are looking for magic in the usual landscape.
LOOK
A cephalophore is a saint who carries their head. This is to signify that they've been martyred by beheading. The primary challenge when producing these sculptures or drawings is where to put the halo. The halo has been placed on the removed head, while other artists have placed the halo where the head once was. It is believed that the martyr holds onto their heads to give them to Christ. It is believed that Saint Denis, the patron saint of Paris, walked and preached for seven miles holding his head in his hands.
Marjorie Cameron's inkly witch-creatures have been on my mind recently. She was an occultist and belonged to Aleister Crowley's sex-magic religious group, Thelema, before, after the death of husband, she became the leader of her own occult group, the Children (it disbanded as her rhetoric became increasingly apocalyptic). When she wasn't making art, Cameron worked as an actress and wrote poetry as well. She suffered from depressive episodes, mood swings, and auditory hallucinations, often labeled as a "witch" by those who knew her. Despite working in the macho, male-dominated L.A. arts scene, Cameron frequently exhibited her work and later became friends with many Beat poets and filmmakers from the 60s. Her occult beliefs strongly influenced her surrealist illustrations. There's a certain unrestrained ferocity and emotionality in her work (think: spiritual Romanticism). This illustration is from her book "Songs for the Witch Woman."
I've been studying Cy Twombly in my neo-dada art history class and recently found his "Natural History Part 1 Mushrooms" Series. I love how this piece is collaged, the relationship between the color swatches and the mushroom drawings, the layering of images, each scribble like a vandalism. This work is such a lovely catalog of a natural body from its physical structure, how its broken down into colors and numbers and, the landscape these fungal fruits belong to. Twombly's quickly becoming one of my favorite artists with his characteristic scribbling, graffiti style. You can see more of this series here.
Anni Albers is perhaps the most famous textile maker from the Bauhaus School, eventually becoming Head of the Weaving Workshop. While she dabbled in printmaking and jewelry design, her textiles are by far her best works. Her weavings were made of both industrial and traditional materials such cellophane and paper into the fabric. She focused on the production of these art-objects, creating pieces that used the reflection of light, were highly durable, reduced wrinkling (such as curtains and bedsheets), and she'd color them with washes of ink. I adore the materiality of these pieces, how they look like paintings but don't occupy a traditional two-dimensional space. While most of her works play with some kind of geometric grid, this one (titled Under Way from 1963) unravels into such gorgeous fluidity.
LISTEN
After sitting in my Unplayed list for far too long, I finally tuned into the newest season of There Goes The Neighborhood. This is a podcast about gentrification, disappearing neighborhoods and the ways residents and developers navigate their rapidly changing environment. The first season was set in NYC (Williamsburg, not surprisingly, was discussed in one episode) and this new season takes us to L.A. I'd recommend "I Don't Want To Evict You", which focuses on one apartment complex's residents fighting against their new landlord, the high cost of living in Los Angeles, and the strategies landlords use to kick out rent-stable residents.
Been listing to a lot of La Femme lately. Good music for wearing turtlenecks, mini skirts, and dancing around your room. One day I will learn French and understand what they're saying...one day.
As school and my job have increased my weekly workload, my depression and anxiety began to kick into high gear (so fun). A friend of mine had mentioned this podcast called The Hilarious World of Depression. Each week, John Moe sits down with different comedians to talk about their experiences with mental illness. It's amazing listening to these comedians talk about how they cope, different treatments they've tried, and what its been like to openly talk about mental illness. Hilarious and all-too-relatable, I'd definitely recommend this podcast if you're going through dark times at the moment. Their most recent episode, featuring Margaret Cho, had me chuckling as I was sardined between people on my morning commute.
I've been spending a lot of time back and forth on the train and when I'm too tired to stare at a book, I'll turn on a podcast (why I've mentioned not one but three podcasts in this letter). This podcast is short and simple, yet it strengths my weary soul like nothing else: the Poetry Foundation's Poem of the Day. The Poetry Foundation, oftentimes with original recordings of the authors, showcases a blend of contemporary (Terrance Hayes, Ocean Vuong) and older generations of poets (EE Cummings, Sharon Olds), reminding you of your favorites or introducing you to new writers. You can listen to it at any time, or in any place, whether you're walking down the street, sitting on the bus, or just stopping for a coffee somewhere. I'm not even going to recommend a poem to start with, just put on your headphones and start from the beginning.
LICK
Yesterday, I finally got around to seeing the MoMA's new exhibits. If you're a fan of fashion, their Items: Is Fashion Modern? is an awesome walk through the history of clothing and accessories, how certain patterns and materials have transformed throughout the years. It was a cool exhibit, yes, but the highlight for me was definitely seeing the Louise Bourgeois: Unfolding Portrait show. I adore her work. It was incredible to finally see her pieces in real life and not just through the blue wash of my computer screen. I love the way her mutated, painful bodies are re-iterated into all kinds of mediums from painting to cast sculpture, to her famous spiders, to her Cell dressed with tattered tapestry. Go check it out if you can.
My favorite twitter bot as of late has been Color Schemer. It generates tweets of different colors and re-writes the name for each shade. Really simple, I know, but it's amazing to see the color names it comes up with. The colors selected for each image are like candy for your eyeballs. (Image above is tenderized greyblue, subaffluent steel, true-born greyish teal)
Little Dragon's music video for her song, "Strobe Light" is a visual treasure. The art direction (from the fashion to, well, everything) is gorgeous, soaked with satin and lace. Not only does the song feel like you're dancing on an electric cloud, but this video showcases South Africa's queer culture and its dancers, challenges traditional presentations of masculinity through brilliant, creative choreography.
CLICK
A blog I've recently started following is The Creative Independent. They conduct interviews with people from all kinds of creative fields (from film to writing to curation), from well-known folx such as Maggie Nelson to emerging artists and collectives. Scroll through their interviews to find some nuggets of creative wisdom, or go ahead and search for your role model and hear what they have to say.
Timothy Morton's Hyberobjects has been on my to-read list for a bit. His concept of "hyperobjects" is designed to change the way we speak about things that aren't immediately tangible or difficult to wrap your head around (ex: how all the styrofoam will take 500 years to decompose, long after we're gone). He's applied this term to climate change, something so powerful that it becomes almost to difficult to discuss yet it has a huge impact on all of us. In this 2015 article from High Country News, Morton defines "hyperobjects" and talks about how this idea can fill a linguistic void in humanity's collective vocabulary.
This article from Wired about "font detectives" definitely brightened up my week. When the smoking gun on a document found in the Panama Papers, sparks a "fontgate" over the history of Calibri, you know it's gonna be good. This article follows Thomas Phinney, who works in the forensic analysis of fonts and helps uncover fraud through all kinds of digital and microscopic measurements on the letterforms and typeface. If you love typographical design or a good crime story or both, go give this a read.
Lynn Emmanuel's poem, "The Planet Krypton", slingshot chills down to my core. Somehow the most awful and most beautiful description of a nuclear test broadcast on a motel television. Adrienne Rich talks about this poem in her essay, "Someone Is Writing A Poem", and about how Lynn is able to convey a political meaning, a woman's desire for destruction, a sense of re-creation through her powerful maneuvers of language. Read if you are searching for goosebumps and a feeling of impending calamity. // As I'm writing this, the rain has stopped falling. There is warm broth sweating in the kitchen. I'm going to go make myself a bowl. Rest well if you find yourself at the center of turbulent times. Until next week, my friends.
Love,
Ellie