017. Red Reliquary
Hello friends,
From the moment we pitch headfirst into February, everything ends up colored in red. It feels inescapable. Fleshy heart-shaped steaks at the grocery store*. The books I'm searching of in the library are bound in worn burgundy skins. A spot of crimson on my white sock after peeling off an ill-fitting shoe. Spilled wine. Bitten strawberries. Vermillion. Oxblood. Garnet. Ruby. Currant. Startled cardinal.
With the tenderness of Angelina Jolie wearing a vial of blood around her neck, I present to you the first of a series of monochromatic reliquaries.
TOUCH
Recently, I decided to re-read a novel I hadn’t touched since high school. Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca. I’m not sure what spurred me to revisit this book, but i’m quite glad I did. Rebecca is, in many ways, a noir novel. The one thing I love about du Maurier is the balance she strikes between rich description and the tightly controlled action of the narrative. This is a story of hauntings, unravelling strings, as the second Mrs. de Winter learns about the secrets of her husband’s first marriage (her full name is never known to us as though, in her initial timidity, she is filling a mold rather than existing as her person). If you have not read this gothic classic, I highly suggest you do. Alfred Hitchcock directed the 1940 movie adaptation if you’re looking for something to watch tonight.
I’ve had very little experience in the field of philosophy (that’s putting it mildly). It’s one of those academic worlds that I tend to avoid because I know I’ll feel out of my depth the moment I dip my toe in. Yet, at the recommendation of several friends, I caved and picked up Object-Oriented Feminism, a collection of 10 essays edited by Katherine Behar. OOF takes its name from the school of thought that is object-oriented ontology, new materialism, and speculative realism, which basically place objects and matter front and center in discourse. OOF engages with objects, too, yet bites in deeper to consider the ethics and political and economic histories of people treated as objects (the poor, POC, and women), the ways bodies are eroticized in contemporary culture, and how they can disrupt norms through art, film, ecocriticism, and even science fiction. While I have not gotten to all of the essays in this collection just yet, I would recommend this book if you want to read more philosophical theory without overwhelming yourself. It’s been a pleasure to digest and learn from this book. You can get your copy here.
I ended up reading The Shock of the Anthropocene for one of my classes. It’s one of those books I’ve passed in the bookstore again and again, always eyeing it but never picking it up. This book is rich with information (although I’ll admit that at times it can get pretty dense if you’re not familiar with some of the chapter topics). If you want to learn about the Anthropocene, from the origin of the term itself to the different scientific and socioeconomic histories that have come to shape this contemporary epoch, this is a very solid place to start.
LOOK
Over the sound of Cuban music, Ana Mendieta would take her animal-blood soaked arms to three mounted sheets of white paper, slowly dragging her palms down until only a set of red streaks remained, as part of her performance titled Body Tracks (Rastros Corporales) in 1982. Mendieta marked her presence on the page in the material trace through her slow, yet violent, gesture. There is a ritualistic, sacrifice quality to these pieces, as well as one of visceral subjectivity as the artist uses blood and body to present herself, as though a private, internal violence is brought outwards. Mendieta has done other works in blood beyond the Body Tracks series as well, including Self-Portrait with Blood, Blood and Feathers #2, Blood Sign, and Sweating Blood. You can also watch a video of Mendieta creating the work here.
I’ve been getting into the work of Romanian artist Andrea Dezso lately. Her work is comprised of mostly illustrations and embroidery with a fairytale-like quality to her style. One of my favorite works of hers is Heart. I can’t say enough about the intricacy of this embroidery, the clean stitchwork and vibrant colors. It’s the kind of piece I can stare at for a long time, very pleasing to the eye. You can check out more of her embroidery work (and her illustrations) here.
It’s been a while since I’ve featured architecture in this newsletter, so I thought I would include a rather unexpected building: the red and white striped Jami Ul-Afar Masjid mosque in Colombo City, Sri Lanka. This architectural wonder was built in 1908 for the Borah Muslim community in the Pettah neighborhood, quickly becoming a landmark for the port city. This mosque is built with a hybrid architectural style, pulling design elements and motifs from a mix of native Indo-Islamic and Indian architecture, Gothic revival, and Neo-classical styles. The Red Mosque (as its also known) dazzles the city skyline with its pomegranate-shaped domes, colorful alternating geometric brick patterns, and soaring minarets. Definitely on my list of religious buildings I want to visit sometime in the future.
Another red piece I’d like to add to the mix is Francis Bacon’s Three Studies for a Crucifixion. Painted in 1944 as a kind of mirror of the grotesque horror of World War II. Bacon’s brush strokes are ruthless, punches of red with organs spilling out from the bed. Bacon strips the Crucifixion down to a bed and box of color. The whole scene is intimately painful, becoming more crime scene than a moment of divine revelation.
Then there’s one of my favorite paintings: Dante and Virgil in Hell by William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1850). I love the visceral quality of this painting. The dynamic violence of the Hellscape Dante has found himself in during the first Canto of Inferno. Damnation becomes inscribed into flesh. Ugh, I could stare at this painting for ages.
Lastly, I've been very fascinated with works washed in atmospheres of red. Gold ground paintings and blue skies, sure, but there's something violently astonishing about the flushed saturation of color. In medieval art, red came to signify the Holy Spirit, the blood of Christ and martyrs, and a kind of spiritual suffering or passion. Red also had associations with prestige, authority, or otherworldly power. Two medieval tapestries to begin: The Lady and the Unicorn tapestry cycle from around 1500 and the Apocalypse tapestry cycle by Jan Baudolf from around 1377 made of richly gruesome scenes from the Book of Revelations. Skip ahead a few centuries to Henri Matisse’s Red Studio (1911). Matisse has done several of these red interiors, but there’s something about this studio space that gets me every time I look at this painting (perhaps the familiarity of creative clutter). Then there is Red Hills and Bones (1941) by Georgia O’Keefe. The warm, deep tones, the smooth, softened build-up of color as though the abstracted earth could almost be slabs of meat, the punctuation of bone.
LISTEN
First of all, if you have not heard Frank Ocean's gorgeous rendition of "Moon River", what are you waiting for?! Listen to it here.
For Valentine's Day, This American Life published an episode titled 'Rom-Com', about the clichés of romantic comedies, why we like them so much, and real-life moments that mirror the movies. Sometimes, however, the perfect cinematic moment can go terribly (and hilariously) wrong. I don't want to give too much away but the last story in the episode made me laugh. And I think it'll do the same for you. (Spoiler: lots and lots of red). You can listen to it here.
Girl In Red’s song “I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend” has been a source of delight for me lately. This catchy track about the sweet agony of a crush will have you dancing around your bedroom. With heartfelt lyrics like “I don’t wanna be your friend I wanna kiss your lips / I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath” and a bouncing melody, this is a great way to welcome in the spring. You can listen to it here.
Another tune sweet as a swipe of lipstick is Perfume Genius's "Run Me Through". There's such a sultry quality to Mike's voice, the rolling rhythm, it's utterly divine. "No ins, just outs / Pumping ichor / Bucket in my mouth". You can listen to the song here.
LICK
At the recommendation of one of my friends, I watched Sergei Parajanov’s The Color of Pomegranates for the first time last week. This art movie, from 1968, is absolutely beautiful. It supposedly follows the life of an Armenian musician and poet Sayat-Nova (although I went in not knowing that, I now plan on familiarizing myself with his work). The Color of Pomegranates is almost purely visual. Each scene is artfully composed with elegant costumes, electric colors, and delightful choreography (most of the film’s story is told to us through a continuous voiceover). It’s easy to feel like you’re watching magical paintings come to life. Utterly mesmerizing, I couldn’t take my eyes off the screen. It’s truly a feast for the senses.You can watch it on Youtube here.
What would a red monochromatic newsletter be without the inclusion of Issey Miyake’s 1997 APOC (A Piece of Cloth). Through a pre-programmed industrial weaving machine, a single tube of cloth is formed. Different seams are woven into the fabric, allowing the wearer to cut out different items, like gloves or a hat or a dress, without destroying the tube itself. While not entirely practical for everyday use just yet, this completely customizable piece is an innovative solution to fabric waste and mass production.
Now that the Olympics have reached their end, I thought I would include two red-costumed performances: the first Mirai Nagasu's debut where she landed the first triple axel during Olympic competition and Alina Zagitova's gold medal-winning performance later in the competition. Both of these ladies are so magnificently powerful and an absolute pleasure to watch.
I've become obsessed with Chinoike Jigoku, nine hot springs in the city of Beppu, Japan. The name of one the pools at this popular tourist site translates literally into the "Bloody Hell Pond" and it's not surprising why (the other eight, with different colors, have names like "Shaven Monk's Head Hell" and "Sea Hell"). Not only does the iron oxide at the base of the pond give these springs the burgundy color you see today but its average temperature is about 78 degrees Celsius (172 degrees Fahrenheit). Since about 700 C.E., the pond has appeared in historical documents and, especially in Buddist thought, it came to resemble the terrifying underworld. Although in my research, I came across stories of people being boiled alive in the scalding water, you can now buy healing ointments made with the pond mud.
Then, if you’re curious to see how red lipstick is made, check out this awesome video from Refinery29. They take you step-by-step through the (satisfying) process at Colourpop’s factory (speaking of red lipsticks, their shade ‘Bossy’ is the only one I’ve found that looks good on me). It’s really satisfying and if you’ve always wondered about the science behind makeup, this will be a good treat. You can watch the video here.
CLICK
I’d like to begin with David Foster Wallace’s essay, “Consider the Lobster”. He paints quite a vivid portrait of the extravagant camp of the Maine Lobster Festival from cooking competitions to the World’s Largest Lobster. It quickly becomes a rather poignant meditation on the brutality of culinary lobster death. Worth a read even if you don’t include crustaceans in your diet. You can read the complete article here.
I’m thinking now of Marion McCready’s breathtaking poem, “Wild Poppies”. Saturated with such rich language, this poem is a dizzying, sensorial study of such a bold species of plant. You won’t be able to get it out of your head. “I envy your lipstick dress. / You are urgent as airmail, animal red”. You can read it here.
I know I have already talked about blood already in this newsletter, but I’d like to add Ann McCoy’s 1986 essay “Meditations on the Red Mass” into the mix. She examines the use of blood in art through the lens of the spiritual and divine. She considers the transformative material properties of blood, moving away from the (masculine-coded) rationality of the modern world. She considers the works of a whole spectrum of artists across different mediums who incorporate blood into their pieces. She wrestles with the historical entanglements of meaning in this liquid symbol. Decades later, most of her discourse continues to ring true, and it’s been interesting to see how her ideas map out onto contemporary practices. You can read it here.
Lastly, I recommend you check out Eric Schlosser's article "In the Strawberry Fields", originally published in The Atlantic in 1995. Schlosser travels across California's bountiful agricultural areas to look at the strawberry industry, and the poor migrant (more oftan than not illegal) workers who make up a vast majority of the workforce, the conditions they endure, and the way they have been economically robbed by the growers who employ them. How one fruit comes to embody a corrupted, highly precarious root system of socioeconomic problems. Especially at a time when debates over labor and immigration are circulating our country and affecting the lives of so many, this piece is a necessary reminder that these issues, and the human cost of such oppressive practices, are nothing new. You can read the article here.
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Red like cherries, the underbelly of a woodpecker, movie theater licorice, velvet during the holiday season. Red is a lush color, a bodily color, a color that can signify embarrassment, anger, love, the divine, sunburnt cheeks on a summer afternoon.
I'll end this letter with a quote from Anne Carson's The Autobiography of Red, "I am molten matter returned from the core of the earth to tell you interior things."
Love,
Ellie
(P.S. I'm currently in the throes of midterms and immediately after, I'll be out of the country for spring break. Odds are I will not be bringing my laptop with me so I will be putting this newsletter on a brief two-week hiatus until I return. Don't worry, there's a lot of fun stuff in the works that I'm excited to share with you, I just need a digital detox. So, until next time my darlings.)