Saturday, May 14, 2011
Sunday, May 08, 2011
a Degas love affair
No one could possibly understand women better than Degas. Not in the late 19th century anyway. Movement so wonderfully executed in every meticulous stroke. Degas knew the burden a woman carried. So much of her existence a performance, this predisposition to protect, and mostly, an overwhelming sense of herself - a quiet storm. I may be romanticizing his intentions. Maybe he loved horses more (worked on them with the same fervor). I just don't think it matters as I wasn't in his Parisian studio to witness the process - rubbing in the blue pastels... trying to lay still... not moving even a stroke.
Saturday, May 07, 2011
Sunday, May 01, 2011
A Darkroom Diary
Can darkness be englightment?
It's a question I've been grappling with for some time now. Of course, for many it's always the "path leading to," but to make darkness your destination, even for a second?
My professor and peers will say there isn't enough information in this image. I tried so many different settings and timings and I didn't care about the dusty books on the shelf or the intricate patterns of the Persian rug. I kept going back to this - wanting my subject to live in the shadows, so I exposed it all until almost everything faded to black.
It's a question I've been grappling with for some time now. Of course, for many it's always the "path leading to," but to make darkness your destination, even for a second?
My professor and peers will say there isn't enough information in this image. I tried so many different settings and timings and I didn't care about the dusty books on the shelf or the intricate patterns of the Persian rug. I kept going back to this - wanting my subject to live in the shadows, so I exposed it all until almost everything faded to black.
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