Sportspersonship

Lionel Cironneau/AP

BBC

The only sport I ever watch, and that too rarely, is tennis. But I do read up on the news of my favorite player, Roger Federer, and his great Spanish rival, Rafael Nadal. What I love about this relationship is the symbiosis: one could not be himself without the other. While it began initially as a rivalry, what you can see in these pictures is the great mutual respect, camaraderie, and that special kind of friendship which exists only between sportspersons. We fight, because we must - that is what we do, but in the end we are the ones who understand each other best.

When I read John McEnroe's very entertaining autobiography, naturally entitled "You cannot be serious", the one thing I walked away with was his admiration of, and off-court friendship, with Borg.

Perhaps sports is the most evanescent and authentic art form these days. It is performed once, with no aids, body or voice doubles, and when it's done, it is left behind, perhaps for the record books or not, living only in memory, like memories of watching Borg vs. McEnroe as a child.

xo

bb

New York: Here and somewhere

Yesterday was my first full day back in New York. I'm not counting the previous day because I managed to sleep half of that (a one-shot cure to jet lag as it turned out). I was itching to do something - perhaps go to the cinema or even the opera - and so I did.

I began with Somewhere, which I had been excited to see since Lola's preview from the Venice Film Festival. It is one of those films that I have enjoyed thinking back on even more than I enjoyed watching it.  Which is not to say I didn't enjoy it in the cinema. In real time viewing I enjoyed the hazy Southern California light evoked beautifully by Coppola and cinematographer Harris Savides. I enjoyed how the shots were framed, as if by a curious, sympathetic, slightly-too-insistent observer. The first time around it was really about a mood, a slowly evolving feeling -- malaise stretching into unease, into perhaps a ray of hope. But then thinking back on it (which is my "second viewing"), behind the seemingly lazy amble of scenes and episodes there was more purpose than chance. And the eye / camera really stays in the mind as the main character in the film: not only what is observed, but how long, which how much attention, from what angle, in what light. In this the film reminds me a bit of Antonioni (many thanks to Tony Scott for making this connection). And I'm sure a real second viewing would be very rewarding.

Then I went off to the opera, which turned out to be a perfect pairing with the film: Pélleas et Mélisande by Debussy. It's also more about a feeling than very much happening (at least for much of the opera, by the end there's a murder, a birth, and a death -- after all it is opera). The orchestra takes us through a subtle, evolving shade of feelings, like a dark grotto lit up by reflections and refractions from the water. There are ambiguities, elisions, uncertainties, all of which the orchestra traverses steadily and mysteriously. The spoken and sung words never resolve anything; they only magnify and punctuate feelings. And when things happen - and they do - they too aren't climaxes or resolutions, only knots in the wood. And making the connection to film, Mélisande seems like a precursor to the impossible enigmatic heroines of French film: she never answers a question directly, doesn't hesitate to lie, causes men to fall in love, falls in love herself, all without really saying what she means. Yet she is irresistible in her shifting ambiguity.

Just to bring some certainty to my day, I ate a slice of pizza on the way home - a glorious, non-gourmet, stomach-filling New York slice. I've "known" the man behind the register for years -- we recognize each other, and he has seen me in every possible situation: with friends, parents, friends, exes, hungry, angry, funny, sad, silly, drunk, sober.... But after these two subtle works of art in one day, I felt wonderfully in balance, and of course so happy to be back in New York.

Wish you all a wonderful Christmas and New Years. Wherever you are, I hope you are with family, friends, loved ones, and surrounded by joy and beauty.

xo

bb

You can deal with this or you can deal with that*

One of my favorite features over at Jane's blog is "You can deal with this or you can deal with that". It points up the essential fact: there are some things you can't avoid. And so in that spirit.

You can deal with this:

(David, the Power of Beauty, in Florence -- temporarily reinstalling a replica of David where it was originally intended to be displayed.)

Or you an deal with that:

Event Horizon by Antony Gormely, which I had seen in London in 2007 and was recently displayed here in New York.

Or come to think of it, this:

The Miracle of the Slave by Tintoretto, which hangs in Accademia in Venice.

xo

bb

* Had a great time with Jane in Montréal over the weekend. Let's just say there were three people, one bottle of prosecco, and only two drinkers....

Slowing down, speeding up

The whole idea of accepting the assignment in Naples was to slow down a bit. When I'm in Bos-NY, the days spin by so quickly, with work and then getting home (whichever one that is) and then keeping myself busy. Here I imagined I would stop to smell the flowers while nibbling on some cheese and sipping white wine, if you'll pardon that very badly mixed image (especially since Italians don't really believe in food on the move -- standing at a bar yes, moving no). I have actually managed two of those three, but that's another story.

(But can't resist one of those stories. My neighborhood cremeria gets mozzarella from Avellino every morning. And I'm not being a snob here or anything, but truly it tastes heavenly just for the day. Even the next day the flavor diminishes.)

But slow down? Not really. Here it seems as though are blowing by. I've met friends, seen art, worked hard, had fun, but not really slowed down. Perhaps that's just not meant to be me?

Well, I leave you with two images then from a recent exhibition I went to by Mat Collishaw. Any guess what these are? I'll tell you below...






It is a lithograph on Corian...

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Food for the stomach and mind

Am I little embarrassed by my food obsession? I am. But not too much. An Italian friend of mine worked for a while with a travel agency in Boston which arranged guide tours of Italy. She the most common question that she would get is: what will we eat? It can cut both ways. I have known Americans who must travel with their Oreo cookies (and not just to single out Americans, Gujarati's - my people - are known to travel with their own snacks, dry chutneys, and if they can afford it their own chef) and those who are more excited about the food they will eat than what they will see.

For me Naples has been mostly about work (sadly, but the Flugelbindery is paying the bills) and meeting friends (much happier -- and the nice thing is that this a small town in the end - you meet people everywhere - crossing the street, in cafe, walking home late at night...). But I can't deny a thrill when I go to the local cremeria and see little balls of mozzarella floating lazily like fat fish in a tank. And I won't deny the thrill of seeing a cheese platter when I'm invited to dinner.



But for me also food for the mind (less fattening, you know?). Below a picture from Rita McBride's latest exhibition in Naples. Can you guess what the shapes are?




The neon versions were constructed by an aged neon master in Naples who I had the chance to meet.

Though I haven't read them before, Rita McBride is famous for her "faux" novels. Her first was a faux museum catalog / romance. She has also done faux science fiction. Very cool woman.

Little Dieter needs to fly

Watched a while back, but never posted on it (could it be? Am I repeating myself?) It's shocking, inspirational. (I know, this sounds like a movie blurb, but it's true....) You watch an older man, with a slight German accent, recounting his horrifying experiences as a prisoner, even reenacting them, with an incredible energy and determination. Even putting his feet into stocks, his hands into handcuffs. It's only a film he says, but you are wondering, inside him, it must revive a learned fear.

Only once do we see him - not break down but - pause to gather himself, to describe how alone he was in the jungle after his fellow escapee was killed. There was only this bear that would follow him around:

"When I think about it, this bear meant death to me, and it is really ironic that's the only friend I had at the end was death."

The only friend I had at the end was death. And hovering above it all is Werner Herzog, with his dry probing narration: "How Dieter Dengler has been able to cope with all this remains a mystery. He hides behind the casual remark that this was the fun part of his life."

Dieter took early retirement and became a test pilot. He survived four more crashes. "Death did not want him."

bb

Autumn Sonata, Ingmar Bergman

I worried that you wouldn't like my appearance.
I was ugly.
Skinny and angular, with big, round eyes and fat lips.
No eyebrows.
My arms were too thin and my feet too big.
I thought I looked disgusting.
Once you said, "You should have been a boy."
Then you laughed, so I wouldn't be upset. But I was, of course.

from Autumn Sonata, Ingmar Bergman

P.S. Bergman has a way of finding the universal - pain - in any relationship, but also the universal beauty.

P.P.S. I believe this was the only time Liv Ullmann and Ingrid Bergman worked together, and certainly the only time that Ingrid worked with Ingmar Bermgan.

Last night I...

Marina Abramović: The Artist Is Present

7 things I love... (free-style tag)

We've all done a tag or two (or n, n large) tags in our days, but Marion has invented a new form, which I picked up over at Jane's place and which I'm going to call free-style tag. In this version, rather than tagging 7 specific people, you just let anyone who feels like it join in. Think of it as a big jam session, or even better those drummers in the park (bring your drum and join in!), rather than a symphony orchestra.

So my version of it, like Marion and Jane, will be 7 things I love right now... If you're inspired, please do join in!

1. Kurosawa's Ran. No surprise given my last post, but I was waiting to be transported back into a world of heightened feeling and sound (I've probably been missing going to the opera), and this film did it.
2. Gorgonzola cheese. These days I can't get enough of it (which is why I take care to buy very little -- you know, little cheese.)
3. The art of my friend Lee Etheredge. I'm lucky enough to own a few of his pieces (and so are MoMA and the Whitney!) But I caught up with my friend recently and was delighted to see him doing new and exciting work (not yet on his blog, but keep an eye on it!)
4. Cappuccino. (You can see there is no order to this list.) Of course we all love a good cappuccino. Italics here will mystify our Italian friends who are used to a good coffee from a bar no more than 100m from where they stand, but in these parts you have to go looking for one. (But this takes me back to a young bb discovers the world anecdote. When I first began drinking the stuff at Italian restaurants outside Italy, I would enjoy the foam but then find the coffee just too bitter. Some years later I discovered the coffee I was having was too bitter, not that perfect marriage of coffee and foamed milk. And can I get one more pet peeve off my chest? If the president of Starbucks or any other chain is reading, please not that it is coffee and foamed milk not coffee, milk, and foam. The problem here is you get coffee with warm milk and mound of topiary foam on top. Done right the milk itself takes on a light foaminess...) Anyway, I 've had a decent espresso machine at home for about 8 years, but recently I have begun using it to make myself a cappucino every morning. As good as my favorite coffee bars? No. But better than 95% of most others? Yes.
5. The laptop computer. OK, I guess this really dates me. But even though I had a laptop, my "real" computer until 3 years ago was a desktop to which I was tethered. But now everything is on my laptop (don't worry, duly backed up), and I can roam free. And you know good ol' bb likes to roam!
6. Semi-fictional, semi-history. The writing is formulaic, but I couldn't put it down.
7. And finally this picture:

I suppose most of you are asking yourselves: who? It's Roger Federer who just won his 16th Grandslam Championship, with his father. (Just to be clear, since I sense most of my readers aren't sports type, I'm talking about tennis). Some of you may be shocked to discover that I watch any sports at all. The truth is not often, but sometimes tennis. I think this is because we watched it growing up (unlimited television during Wimbledon!) And some of you may be shocked then to discover that I admire a sportsman. But friends, there is much to admire here. First, how he plays. It's more like ballet than today's physically grinding game. Second, there is the impossibility of it. He sees angles and openings no else can. In that sense, I think he is like an artist, creating and orchestrating movement and visual possibilities. And also if you look at his tall, slim frame and his muscle-bound opponents, you can't understand how this man can stand a chance. Third, he has been doing this for about 6 years. Six sports years are like 30 normal years. He has somehow operated at a the highest level that long, maintaining his body, his mind, and above all his freshness of spirit -- the desire to excel, to win, and the pleasure of doing what you do. And finally, you've got to love this picture! Look at his delight, and look at the father's delight. And look how delighted they are to be sharing the moment. Even the greatest champion, artist, scientist must have these moments, when he or she is a child again basking in his or her parent's love and admiration.

bb

Di Chirico meet Maharaja Jai Singh II

{pictures from a recent trip to jaipur}

xoxo

bb

Time for a facelift?

The old me...



The new me...



bb

(Art) Miami (Vice)

I'm in Miami! For Art Basel Miami! A strange concept this, Basel Miami, but lots of art to see. Will try to post some pictures soon.

But actually at this minute I'm in a Starbucks -- some last minute flugelbindery came up -- I'm being driven crazy by early Christmas tracks...

Must get out and see some art!

b....b....

Much to think about...

The 'Thinker' and Female Figurine From Cernavodă
Fired Clay
Hamangia, Cernavodă, 5000-4600 BC
National History Museum of Romania, Bucharest: 15906, 15907

bb

P.S. Of course -- what was he thinking about? My interpretation in the comments!

The lost art of letter writing

certainly existed in the past. I've heard so much about these letters, heard bits of them quoted, well here's a chance to read more than a bit. They are fully cross-indexed and also include images when they are referred to in the letters. What a treasure trove!

bb

Yes, but is it art?

As promised, at last, a few images from The Frieze Art Fair... I always enjoy art fairs because you get to see it all. Frieze is pretty blue chip, big galleries and famous names. But still, there's fun stuff to be found.

One of the pieces that seemed to get the most attention in terms of foot traffic was this first piece (Questions to my father 6, Karl Haendel). People would stop in front of it and read through it all -- it takes quite a while. The crowd gathered in front makes a pretty successful work of art by some measures. But then again, I'm not sure -- is it art? Ponder that while looking at a few other images below...


Art boys and girls, always rushing around...


Except when stopping to chat:


Or to have coffee (or Champagne!)


This one, made from chairs won a prize (getting into the Tate's collection):



And this made me laugh:


Is there an implication here for the balance between the genders?



And surely the most fantastic piece was this... The picture sort of gives it away...


When you approach, you see the lights, but when you look in:


It's bottomless. I really want one of these for my next apt. I lacked the needed 140,000 (don't recall the currency, but does it matter? Pounds? Euros...) So apparently did the Tate.


And an Ian Davenport is always fun. Those lines and colors, hypnotizing...

BB

Venice Biennale

At last, long overdue, a few images on the Venice Biennale. I wish I had more to say... Having been for the 8 years, there is purely the sportive aspect: will, grit, endurance, surivival (you can imagine the t-shirt -- I survived number 53!). Having said that, this year didn't seem to me quite up to previous years. My own yardstick is how infrequently I was tempted to reach for my camera to create a mental cue card for a fascinating work of art. Having said that, it's big (BIG), so there is always something worth seeing.

But first, taking a step back, way, way back, here's a few images from Pompei. This was the second time I visited and I enjoyed it even more than last time. I'm always captivated by the decorative motifs -- timeless:



Somehow I had never visited the amphitheatre. Well here it is:


And now Venice: Tomas Saraceno "Galaxies forming along filaments..."


Susan Hefuna, "Building" (she works on onion-skin type paper, layering images)



Hans-Peter Feldmann, "Shadow Play"



Sadamasa Motonaga, "Water work"


Mona Hatoum, who I first saw at the Biennale four years ago was back at the Fondazione Querini Stampalia. I wish I had taken more pictures. Much of the collection is decorative 19th C art, where she had brilliant mixed her work into the collection, subtly and subversively. Then she had some newer work on display as well. This cloud of barbed wire was amazing to look at:


Now I've got to get back to work... cooking work that is...

BB

Impressionism

{a fine activity for a cloudy autumn day is to remember the days of summer...}

{photo credit: me! please do not reproduce without permission}


{photo credit: Tran Huu Dung via Dennis Dutton}

To the New Year

To the New Year*

With what stillness at last
you appear in the valley
your first sunlight reaching down
to touch the tips of a few
high leaves that do not stir
as though they had not noticed
and did not know you at all
then the voice of a dove calls
from far away in itself
to the hush of the morning

so this is the sound of you
here and now whether or not
anyone hears it this is
where we have come with our age
our knowledge such as it is
and our hopes such as they are
invisible before us
untouched and still possible

from Present Company by W.S. Merwin

* I was inspired to read this collection after hearing an interview with William Merwin on National Public Radio. You can hear it here:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=98326584

Banskied again (Warning! Disturbing content)

I've been Banskied again. This time it was knowingly though. Bansky came to town, but unlike London he probably deduced that local authorities wouldn't take too kindly to his art on the walls of the city (unlike gang graffiti which they don't seem to mind at all). So instead he took over a store front on Seventh Avenue near Houston, the Village Pet Store and Charcoal Grill.

I would like to offer my usual speculations on whether this was art, ahhhrt, fun, or just bizzare, but don't feel quite up to. But take a look and decide for yourself.

There were bales of Hay out front that you can't see here:


Bansky loves his CCTV's so much that he brought a flock of them with him to NY:


Never did like gumballs myself. This probably wasn't my concern though: