“An optimist stays up until midnight to see the New Year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old one leaves.”
- Bill Vaughan
And the German painter Lovis Corinth stays up to get blasted on wine and paint a self-portrait of him groping his wife’s boob. Way to keep it classy, Lovis! 
Have a great one, everybody! See you in 2010 . . .
Art historian Michael Gross called him a “perennial thorn in the side of the museum mafia”. Philippe de Montebello called him “exhilarating” and “brilliant”. Others called him a “shark”. He was Thomas Hoving, the brash, ambitious, visionary director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Every year at this time our society reflects on all those who passed away during the previous twelve months. And 2009, sadly, brought us many a notable death: Michael Jackson, Ted Kennedy, Andrew Wyeth, John Updike, etc. But for anyone who loves art, art history, and museums, Thomas Hoving’s passing belongs right up there at the top. The controversial former Met Museum director died of lung cancer on December 10th. He was 78 years old.
Hoving’s tenure lasted from 1967 to 1977, and during those ten years, the museum was transformed from a staid and stuffy institution into a vibrant and stimulating one. A native New Yorker, Hoving was a true maverick (you hear that Sarah?), an iconoclast who shook up the priggish, uppity fine art establishment with his populist philosophy, risk-taking attitude, and questionable methods of acquisitions. Hoving made no secret of his willingness to do anything to obtain valuable works of art, spend huge sums of money, and defined his approach as “piracy”. He even boasted of his hefty “black book” of art dealers, smugglers, and “fixers”.
His critics saw him as an unscrupulous hustler, a cowboy who refused to fall in line with the starchy, formal, “proper” mentality of the fine arts world. To that I say, good for you Thomas! His driving motivation was to open the art world to everybody, not just the exclusive, elite class of art aficionados. Even his decision to drape flowing banners on the Museum’s exterior facade, to announce current special exhibitions, was met with scorn by the snobs who considered it “vulgar”. They need to fuck off. I love those banners 
Whether New Yorkers are aware of it or not, Thomas Hoving is almost single-handedly responsible for the Met Museum of today; a compelling, relevant, extraordinary place, teeming with visitors and brimming with some of the most magnificent, awe-inspiring works of art ever created. It is thanks to Thomas Hoving that the Met is now home to extensive collections of Islamic, African, and Pacific art and artifacts. It is thanks to Hoving (and his behind the scenes wrangling) that the wildly successful King Tut exhibit came to the Met, and which my parents took me to see. It is thanks to Thomas Hoving that the Cloisters has become one of the greatest collections of medieval art in the world. The list goes on and on.
A man of boundless energy and determination, Thomas Hoving’s biography is fascinating, rollicking, and marked with both triumphs and controversies. You can learn more in this New York Times obituary, and also at The Independent. Both are excellent reads.
He was impulsive. He was obsessive. He was brazen and egotistical. He was, above all else, truly passionate about great art. When he came to the Met, his goal was to resuscitate the quiet, aloof, stagnating old landmark, and breathe new life into it, throw its doors wide open to the city, and “make the mummies dance”. And boy did he. In his own words, Thomas Hoving proclaimed, “Great art should be shown with great excitement”. I couldn’t agree more. RIP Thomas.
Here’s Thomas Hoving discussing “New York’s Fanciest Hookers” :
Greetings friends!! How are all my honeys and lovelies doing? Very well, I hope. I’m quite well myself. Had a terrific few days of celebrations and gatherings, family and friends, riotous storytelling, delicious food, and warm conviviality. And to top it off, the snow has completely melted! So the first big blizzard of the season is but a mere memory now.
I can’t think of a better way to resume blogging after my brief holiday hiatus, than by directing everyone’s attention to Casey Klahn’s Top Ten Art Blog Posts of 2009. On his excellent blog, The Colorist, he has published his choices for the most inspiring and worthy art posts of the year. I am positively floored that he selected my Museworthy post on Modigliani as one of the honorees, especially when I see myself placed among such first-rate art blogging company, like Kelly Borsheim and Karin Jurik , just to name a few. It was so flattering to read Casey’s generous, complimentary words. Not only did it make me feel happy and validated, it reaffirmed for me the tremendous joys and rewards of being a part of the blogging community. Thank you, Casey!
I also want to mention that The Daily Beast recently posted the Best Art Books of 2009. That’s not generally one of my favorite sites, but this book collection is worth a look. Some good stuff on there I wasn’t aware of: books on Magritte, Duchamp, Van Gogh, and one called “Angels of Anarchy: Women Artists and Surrealism” that looks really fascinating! The editor is Patricia Allmer. I’ve got to check that one out.
Once again, I hope everyone is well. Blogging is back on, of course, so I’ll see you all very soon!
Apologies to Charlie Chaplin for ripping off the title to one of his greatest, most memorable and touching films. But I couldn’t resist. I was shopping in and around Columbus Circle yesterday and managed to stay sane and uplifted amid the crowds and chaos, thanks to the enchanting holiday lights strewn everywhere – in the trees, in the stores, and all around midtown. Just taking a minute to stop and look at the decorations really keeps you from losing your mind!
Even though the Time Warner Center is somewhat of a monument to commerce and materialism, it can be temporarily forgiven with their giant, luminescent glowing stars, hung annually from the lobby ceiling during the Christmas season:
These beauties change color every few seconds, and it’s pretty cool to watch! Though I think it would be much nicer without the Armani Exchange sign in the background. (that store sucks!):
The Time Warner Center is headquarters for CNN. I have seen Anderson Cooper walking around there three times that I can remember: once on the escalator, once in the lobby, and once waiting on line at Jamba Juice downstairs
I stood on the staircase of the J. Crew store just to get this picture, looking out and down toward Columbus Circle. I liked the way the red car lights looked mixed in with the tree lights:
Before I knew it the sun had gone down, and the street lights came into full illuminated glory. This is outside Time Warner, around 6:20 PM:
This time of year, Columbus Circle is taken over by an outdoor market with vendors selling their wares. Here are some holiday shoppers sticking it out through the cold temperatures:
You can view all the pictures I took for this series on my Flickr page. I hope they bring you some holiday cheer!
Merry Christmas to those who celebrate. And warm wishes to everyone for a wonderful, joyous season. I’ll be pretty busy the next couple of days – cooking, family, gatherings, etc – and so probably won’t have time to blog until the weekend. I’ll miss you! But I’ll be here . . .
For a compassionate, peaceful world . . . love and blessings to all
Claudia
xo
Well it arrived, as promised. The northeast’s first winter blast of the season. Almost twelve inches of snow has fallen down on our city. Out here in the distant sections of Queens it feels like more. Strong winds created large drifts and smooth white hills, burying everything in its path. And I do mean everything. I couldn’t see my front steps this morning!
I’m lucky to have nice neighborhood boys who thoughtfully do shoveling for people on the block. People like me who don’t have a big, burly man on call to heave snow around. Instead I have Michael, a great kid across the street who I’ve known since he was five. But I am no exploiter of child labor! I pay him well, and I also do my part by pitching in with the shoveling. I’m just waiting for the moment he lobs a snowball at me
Only Tamara de Lempicka would portray a woman shoveling snow while donning full makeup, perfectly-coiffed hair, and a plush red and white turtleneck. I guess physical labor is no excuse to forgo glamour, right? For the record, I do NOT look this way when shoveling snow. I look like a red-nosed, disheveled wreck. Sorry Tamara. My glamour meter falls way short of your standards! This is St. Moritz:
Andrew Wyeth was definitely in tune with the changing seasons of nature, having spent all his life living and working in rural parts of Pennsylvania and Maine. He extolled winter in particular, stating that it allows you to “feel the bone structure of the landscape”. Well said.
This is Wyeth’s famous model and muse Helga, in Refuge, from 1985:
Mexican muralist Diego Rivera was a Communist and frequently addressed political issues in his works. Thus he was no stranger to the toil and hard labor of workers and peasants. In addition to his empathetic portrayals of flower-pickers and corn-gatherers, he painted a woman shoveling snow in Mujer Recogiendo la Nieve:
You know what I just realized? Shoveling sucks. But sledding is fun! I think I might head over to the park at the end of my street and partake in the winter frolicking
See you all later!
Back in 2004 I lost all enthusiasm for the holidays. My father’s death was the main reason because he died right before Christmas 
The year before that, my grandmother died, also right before Christmas. So for a few years the month of December symbolized family tragedies for the Hajians. Even the family dog, Gracie, died in December. All of us, my mother and my brother included, were somewhat Grinch-like in our holiday attitude. We just prayed that the damn month would pass with nothing terrible happening. But last Christmas I began to feel interest in the season once again. And this year I’m getting into it even more. I feel like a kid again.
But the downside of this renewed excitement means I’m in a hapless state of disarray, With so many things to do my lack of time-budgeting skills is turning me into a scatterbrain. A joyful scatterbrain, but a scatterbrain nonetheless. There aren’t enough hours in the day! Cards, gifts, recipes, emails, errands, charity drop-offs, not to mention bothering liquor store employees about their meager selection of organic wines. I think they hate me
In the midst of all this, I can barely find time to do yoga or any kind of exercise, although scurrying around the streets of New York and running down steps to catch a subway train constitute some degree of aerobic exercise. That’s why we New Yorkers are so skinny, didn’t you know that? There’s even a bit of art modeling work thrown into this mix. Last night I got home late from a painting group taught by the famous Aaron Shikler. And Saturday I’m posing for one of my all time favorite art classes – painting with Nicki Orbach at the National Academy. To my friend Damian, see you there sweetie!
Tonight I’m meeting another friend for a holiday drink which will be a lovely time for sure. And tomorrow I have to track down a specific gift for my cousin that I’m having trouble locating. Must find this gift, MUST find it! He will love it.
The city is strewn with lights, twinkling and shimmering over the avenues. Mobs of shoppers clog the sidewalks with massive shopping bags, people are ice skating at Rockefeller Center, and children beg to visit Santa at Macy’s. It’s Christmas in New York, and in spite of the painful holiday associations of the past, I’ve learned to love it again.
On that note, here’s my back and my butt
Photo by Fred Hatt
What is the first thing that flashes through your mind when you hear the name John Singer Sargent? Probably exquisite portraits, for which he is most known. Memorable portrayals of elegant ladies, distinguished men, upper class folk dressed to the nines in their satin and velvet. With Sargent, you don’t generally think of a male nude, let alone a full frontal male nude.
But few artists can resist an inspiring subject, even if it deviates from their usual genre. John Singer Sargent was no exception. We all know that a muse can happen upon an artist at anytime, anywhere. A bar, a street corner, a party. In Sargent’s case, the unexpected encounter occurred in 1916, in an elevator at the Copley Plaza Hotel in Boston.
The striking, muscular young man was Thomas E. McKeller, an African-American bellhop at the hotel. At first sight, Sargent was instantly enthralled by McKeller’s strong physique and facial features. Soon, the young bellhop was posing for the artist, and a large scale oil painting, Thomas E. McKeller Nude Study was produced:
That pose is incredible. Very “active”. First of all, Thomas is kneeling on a cushion with his arms behind him, which presents the torso with a good amount of tension and prominence. Also, his head is tilted upward and to the side, gazing to the heavens. Now let me tell you something; this guy was a great model. That is hard!! That has pain written all over it. In the knees, in the shoulders, in the neck. Thomas rocks
One of many charcoal sketches Sargent did of Thomas McKeller:
Given the mystery surrounding Sargent’s sexual orientation, one could certainly read a lot into these McKeller studies and infer a bit of erotic subtext. Some biographers and art history scholars are convinced that Sargent was gay but repressed. Others believe he was bisexual. Still others regard him as completely asexual. We know that Sargent never married and have very little evidence of any romantic relationship with either a man or a woman. (It is believed that Sargent had an affair with Louise Burkhardt, his model for Lady With The Rose, but it’s not known for sure). Regardless, Sargent was extremely secretive about his proclivities and private life. And, unlike Michelangelo, Sargent created plenty of beautiful female nudes from life, some of them quite sensual. So who knows?
I personally don’t find the McKeller painting erotic. It’s absolutely amazing for sure, but in it I see Sargent capturing Thomas from a purely aesthetic standpoint, not a sexual one. I mean, look at Thomas. There is not an artist on earth, male or female, gay or straight, who would not be inspired by his magnificent form or his soulful, earthy countenance.
The Nude Study of Thomas was never exhibited publicly during Sargent’s lifetime but it is now, proudly on display at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. In an interesting coincidence, the original site of the MFA was located at the old Copley Plaza Hotel, where John Singer Sargent first found himself in an elevator with his handsome muse.
Hello, hello, helloooooo!! I’m here everyone! Sorry for not posting the past few days. Just been immersed in my newest modeling gig at Janus Collaborative School of Art. I’m happy to report that it’s going really well
The school is located uptown in East Harlem. Way uptown, on 117th street. Although getting up there is a bit of a schlep, it’s a very nice change. Most of New York’s art/art modeling activity, with a couple of exceptions, is oriented downtown. Well, let’s say south of midtown. But getting to Janus means a journey into “el Barrio”, or Spanish Harlem, a lively, exuberant neighborhood of shops, fruit stands, and community centers. Amid the hustle and bustle, just east of First Avenue, tucked up and away in an old brownstone, is the Janus School. As magnificent, superior north light streams down into the studios, serious art students explore the beauty and challenges of the academically-rendered human figure. They tackle anatomy, perspective, proportions, all the good stuff. And clearly they love and appreciate their models. The traditional schools always do.
I snapped a few pictures of the Janus School:
These drawings on the wall should give you a strong indication of the Janus approach toward art. Figures, figures, figures, anatomy, anatomy, anatomy. Speaking as a professional artist’s model, I approve!
There’s that awesome north light slicing behind the easels:
I haven’t been posing in this section of the studio, but I’d like to someday. It’s a really cool open space:
Although I’ve already emailed her, I want to again express sincere thanks to Liz Adams-Jones, my old pal from the National Academy, for referring me as a model to Janus Collaborative. I’m so grateful to her. The art field, like so many others, relies a lot on networking and relationships. Art schools and instructors have often gotten their best models through referrals, and many models have gotten their best jobs through referrals. It’s a wonderfully synergistic thing. So again, thanks Liz!!
I’d love to write more but I’m a bit tired as I’m sure you understand. I’ve been doing a standing contrapposto pose every day for the lovely students at Janus. They asked, I obliged. So right now I just need to chill out, watch TV, and find out what’s been going on in the world outside of my art modeling bubble. I’ll be back very soon!
It’s a chilly Sunday in New York, and I’m feeling a little run down, probably a result of the rambunctious singing, dancing, and piñata-smashing from my niece’s birthday party yesterday. She’s seven! And Olivia thoroughly revelled in her role as girl of the hour, at Rosa Mexicano on Columbus Avenue. It was a great party! Even greater guacamole
So now I’m heading over to my mother’s house to help her hang an enormous Christmas wreath, and I do mean enormous. Definitely a two-person job. After that I’m coming back home to stretch and do some exercise so I’m in tip top shape for my new week-long gig which starts tomorrow. Five days of painting and drawing, one continual pose I believe. Better strengthen up, and hopefully make a good first impression.
This will be my last full week of work before the holiday break. After this I have just a few jobs here and there at individual groups, a private session, and one booking at Spring Studio. But overall my schedule will be light until after new year’s, and I’m more than ready for it. I’m pretty tired physically. If there’s any group of people who need time off to rest, rejuvenate, and recharge, it’s professional art models. Besides, I want to finish my holiday shopping, clean the house, and go out, hang with friends and have some social fun <– now there’s a novel idea! A social life
Here’s a video with some really terrific life drawings. Watching them inspired me for my new job. Hope they inspire you too . . .
Hi everyone! Greetings from my first post for the month of December. I’m just writing one of my little hodgepodge entries with some goodies that might be of interest. First, I want to announce that I’ll be starting new art modeling work at the Janus Collaborative School of Art, which is located in upper Manhattan. My first booking there is next week, Monday through Friday, and I’m looking forward to it. It’s always exciting to start at a different place and bring my modeling to a new group of students. I’ll blog all about it after it begins but until then, wish me luck!
Several people, friends and blog readers, thoughtfully shared with me with a link to the New York Times obituary for Charis Wilson, who was muse and model for the photographer Edward Weston. Thanks to all of you who emailed it. But I have to give credit to the one person who beat everyone else to the punch: my mother. Trust me, the woman is fast. She would have made a great gunslinger in the Old West
Also, many of you might want to visit the wonderful Art Inconnu blog which is dedicated to featuring the work of lesser-known, somewhat “forgotten” artists of the 19th and 20th centuries. Great stuff on there, and exploring the blog is a refreshing and educational experience. Check it out!
Last but not least, go to this link on Doug Rogers’ blog and see what my longtime reader friend has done I’m blushing with pride, and reminded that I am the “muse” I claim to be (sometimes I forget). As if Doug’s piece wasn’t enough to give me a pleasantly swelled head, I have more artistic reader love from Jim in Alaska, who created this work from my Museworthy birthday photo. Thank you Doug and Jim! I love you guys.
I’ll leave everyone with an image for the day. This is Andre Derain’s Bathers, from 1907:
