Monk’s Way

He was eccentric. He was unconventional. He wore shades and funny hats. He was one of the most influential and groundbreaking jazz pianists of all time. He was the legendary mad genius of bebop, Thelonious Monk. Alternately revered and misunderstood, Monk is the embodiment of a musical innovator. During the first half of his career the public, and even many critics, wanted little to do with Thelonious Monk. Perplexing, erratic, seemingly unbeholden to all musical conventions, Monk’s piano playing was far too idiosyncratic and unorthodox for most people to digest. Only Monk’s esteemed peers, like Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, and Coleman Hawkins, appreciated his unique gifts.

Although Monk had been playing steady gigs in New York nightclubs throughout the 1940s, such as Minton’s in Harlem, a 1951 narcotics arrest caused a serious setback in his career. Monk refused to testify against his good friend and fellow jazz pianist Bud Powell. (The stuff was Bud’s, but Monk took the rap for him). As punishment, Thelonious Monk was stripped of his cabaret card, thus banning him from performing in New York clubs for many years.

But after paying his dues both personally and professionally, Thelonious Monk’s long-awaited recognition finally came in 1957, with a triumphant six month residency at the Five Spot Cafe on Cooper Square. The quartet included the great John Coltrane on tenor sax. Those historic gigs marked the turning point in Monk’s career.

To listen to Monk play the piano is to be in a state of glorious bewilderment; the percussive hitting of the keys, the long note-free gaps and pauses, the dissonant chords, the fits and starts, the spontaneity and strange rhythms. It is not cacophony. It is pure creative invention.

For “Music Monday”, this is Thelonious Monk performing his signature composition Round Midnight. A true American original.

Snow – The Good, The Bad, The Artistic

I was taking it all in stride. I really was. This twice-weekly snowstorm pattern that has developed this winter. But now I suspect I’m suffering from “snow fatigue”. Many New Yorkers are I think. The weather forecast predicts 6 – 12 inches of snow and we’re like, “MORE snow???? Not again!!!”

But like anything else, winter snow has its good and bad qualities and produces a variety of experiences and reactions. Allow me to share some of my personal snow-related anecdotes over the past few days.

Nice snow anecdote number 1: I looked out my bedroom window the morning after snow fell overnight. It was, in a word, beautiful. Pure white, totally fresh, fluffy, powdery, lightweight, accumulated along branches and twigs and everywhere. I watched a little bird as it attempted to alight on a snow-covered twig. It flitted around, trying to find the perching surface. Eventually it knocked off the snow and found its footing. It chirps. It’s happy. It’s a happy bird in spite of the snow inconvenience. It goes about its regular business of looking for food, surviving, just being a backyard bird in Queens. Birds rock.

Bad snow anecdote number 1: I discovered that a ton of accumulated snow slid off my roof like an avalanche and crashed to the ground, its weight breaking off four feet of the rain gutter AND a piece of roof slate in the process. The remaining broken and bent remnant of gutter sticks out from the house at a fucked-up looking 90% angle. Ugly and awful. Spring home repair, and it’s accompanying nuisance and costs, awaits. Oh joy.

Snow Effect With Setting Sun, 1875, by Claude Monet:

Nice snow anecdote number 2: Amazing icicles along the windowpanes! They put on quite a dazzling show with their crystal-like clarity and shape formations. A winter exclusive. Take that, summer!

Bad snow anecdote number 2: One word – SHOVELING

Morning Sunlight on the Snow, Eragny-Sur-Epte, Camille Pissarro, 1895:

Nice snow anecdote number 3: I enjoy a fun afternoon taking pictures of children sledding in the park.

Bad snow anecdote number 3: Cancelled art modeling jobs

A Morning Snow, by George Bellows:

The Snow Storm by Edna St. Vincent Millay

No hawk hangs over in this air:
The urgent snow is everywhere.
The wing adroiter than a sail
Must lean away from such a gale,
Abandoning its straight intent,
Or else expose tough ligament
And tender flesh to what before
Meant dampened feathers, nothing more.
Forceless upon our backs there fall
Infrequent flakes hexagonal,
Devised in many a curious style
To charm our safety for a while,
Where close to earth like mice we go
Under the horizontal snow.

Spiritual Body

Hi everyone!! Sorry I missed a Monday post – no music :sob: I got rather busy yesterday with errands, an appointment, and work, and didn’t get home until after 10. So I had no good chunk of blogging time. But I’m here now. Yay!

Last spring, I found myself in what I called a “sloppy computer” phase, and it seems I’ve managed  once again to achieve the computer desktop equivalent of that TV show “Hoarders”. I bookmark a ridiculous amount of stuff and forget to file things properly. It’s happened to my photos too. I published a post the first time called Buried Treasure in which I shared some of my forgotten photos, and I found another one that I think is really cool and interesting.

I took this picture at The Cloisters over the summer. This piece is fascinating in person:

The wall text description reads as follows:

Torso of Christ
Poplar, gesso, paint, and gilding
France, Auvergne, late 12th century
Said to be from the abbey at Lavaudieu

The inclination of the body and the alignment of the collar-bones suggest
that this sculpture was once part of a group depicting the Descent from the Cross. The naturalism of the anatomy, evident in the forward push of the abdomen, is remarkable for a sculpture of the twelfth century.

With those materials, that’s a true “mixed media” piece, and those paint colors are very unusual. They compliment the natural texture and tone of the wood. When viewed in the room, this sculpture has a very solemn and enigmatic presence. It’s eerie and strange, but also very arresting. It absolutely demands to be photographed, so I did!

Art Nouveau Attraction

To the mystery person who outbid me on eBay for the antique Art Nouveau perfume bottle with sterling silver overlay; well played my persistent friend. Well played. Okay. You beat me. No hard feelings. I can take the hit. But I swear, at the next good condition circa 1900 Art Nouveau perfume bottle that comes up on eBay, I’ll see you for a rematch! It will be like Ali/Frazier! I will deplete my PayPal account for that thing. I will hit up my mother for cash! I will sell a kidney!! You hear me you greedy bidder you??? Aaargh.

I’m fine, really. Just kidding around. I’ve been trying to get one of those bottles for years now and it’s become my personal Holy Grail. But I accepted a long time ago that when it comes to acquiring things I just don’t have the killer instinct. And we all know, of course, that the biggest disadvantage to lacking a killer instinct is losing out on antique perfume bottles on eBay

But I share this story here to introduce the turn-of-the-century movement known as Art Nouveau. Influencing virtually every aspect of arts and design, Art Nouveau originated in Europe and came into prominence in the late 19th century. It remained fashionable into the early 20th century, until the omnipotent beast known as “Modernism” effectively stomped it out.

The Art Nouveau aesthetic is noted for its elegant forms, curvy lines, and often combines decorative patterns with organic motifs, such as vines, flowers,, leaves, birds, and dragonflies (my favorite). I think it’s the looping, curling lines and swirls which make the style especially appealing among women, since rounded shapes are considered “feminine”. Hence my obsession with the curvy perfume bottle with the silver flower overlay.

Alphonse Mucha was the most famous visual artist of the Art Nouveau era. His popular illustrations are representative of the Art Nouveau “look”. This is Zodiac:

But it wasn’t all prettiness and colors and curves. A genuine philosophy came with the Art Nouveau movement. Instead of continuing the long held belief that “art” was found exclusively in the hallowed halls of museums, galleries, cathedrals, and the opulent homes of the wealthy, Art Nouveau sought to bring art and visual artistic beauty into the everyday life of ordinary people, onto every object no matter how utilitarian its purpose. The mundane was suddenly nice to look at and a pleasure to use. In both Europe and the United States, societies soon saw the appealing Art Nouveau design, with its trademark elements, popping up in everything from furniture,  jewelry, textiles, glassware, architecture, and graphic design. The huge wall of separation between fine arts and applied arts was broken down, and people found themselves surrounded by the sumptuous Art Nouveau style in their daily lives – from advertising posters, staircases, picture frames and chairs, to lighting fixtures and eating utensils, to cigarette cases, brooches, and even ladies’ hairbrushes.

This beautiful silver vase, ca. 1896, is a fine example of Art Nouveau style. The designer was Philippe Wolfers, and it appears on the Met Museum Heilbrunn Art History Timeline. See the entire collection at this link: Art Nouveau. And ladies, check out the Lalique pendant!

Because of its widespread popularity throughout Europe and the United States, Art Nouveau brought success to many outstanding designers of the applied and decorative arts. Mucha and Aubrey Beardsley in the graphic arts, Victor Horta and Hector Guimard in architecture,  Louis Majorelle in furniture design, and Rene Lalique and New York-based Louis Comfort Tiffany in glasswork. Those are just a few of the many creative talents who prospered during the Art Nouveau period.

Guiding Angel stained glass panel by the Tiffany Glass & Decorating Company, circa 1890:

Art Nouveau. Elegant, sexy, curvy, feminine, and super stylish. What’s not to like? I’m going to conclude this post with a link to an image of my Holy Grail. I just have to find one at a reasonable price. And by reasonable I mean cheap. “Reasonable” is a euphemism for “cheap”, isn’t it?

Art Nouveau Silver Overlay with Irises

The one in the link is exquisite. It’s also $225. No can do. I’ve got, um, utility bills. Dammit! Back to eBay I go. Wish me luck!

“Fat Ass Model”

I’ve decided that one of blogging’s many demented pleasures is checking out the search terms in your Dashboard. Just to clarify for the non-bloggers – we (the bloggers) are provided with a daily list of the search engine terms that brought visitors to our blog. Some days it’s predictable and mildly interesting. Other days it’s a disturbing and bizarre collection that reflects the twisted minds of misguided Internet freaks. This blog especially, with all its female “nudity” and “modeling”, attracts more than its share of perverts. Sure it’s amusing and I usually chuckle when I see them. But there have been a couple of times when I’ve read my search terms and actually felt my skin crawl. I don’t want those sickos coming here. Ew.

Here’s just a small sampling – a VERY small sampling – of some of the search terms I’ve seen in my Dashboard recently. I am copying these verbatim, word-for-word as they appear in my blog stats:

“nude little girl”

“naked tits with hard nipples”

“male art class model hung like a horse”

“fat ass model”

“balls and vagina in art”

“skinny model porn fake boobs”

“sex with art model”

“got a cock erection posing for ladies art class”

“naked whores painting”

“picasso foreskin”

“willing models for orgies”

“dead naked bimbo”

“old hag art model in drawing class”

“big dick drawing”

“nude female model masturbating”

And my absolute favorite: “slut claudia”

Yeaaaaaahhh! Love that last one! Sounds like an old boyfriend looking to reunite, don’t you think?

By the way, is there really someone out there who is interested in Picasso’s foreskin? Like really? Like that’s a compelling topic??? Holy crap.

Anyway, I assume that when those anonymous searchers got to Museworthy they were sorely disappointed with this blog’s actual content, and that’s fine with me. We do ART here folks. Tasteful, artistic, meaningful and non-exploitative ART. Yes, a lot of it is nude and a lot of it is of me, but it ain’t Hustler. And to the good people who searched for “Modigliani and Jeanne Hebuterne”, “Caravaggio”, “Raphael drawings”, “Suzanne Valadon”, “Francoise Gilot”, “figure modeling”, “Matisse muses”, “Picasso La Vie” and “Audrey Munson sculpture”, I offer a sincere and heartfelt thank you. You came to the right place

Here is a very Museworthy image that represents the true spirit of this blog. Drawing by Daniel Maidman, created at Spring Studio, and the model is me, not a “fat ass model”:

Tribulations

From time to time I suggest to my readers other blogs/websites that I think might be of interest and provide the links here. Often they are art-related. Many of you click over to them, others do not. But today I would like to make the strongest recommendation ever for another blog read.

Rick and Emily are dear family friends. Rick is actually my brother Chris’s oldest friend, and therefore one of my oldest friends as well. Chris and Rick’s friendship dates back to PS 178 elementary school in Queens, and our families lived a block away from each other. For Chris and I, the Louis house was a seconds-long walk “down the hill” in Holliswood. Rick and his wife Emily recently received some devastating news; their 9-month old son Ronan has been diagnosed with Tay-Sachs disease, a rare genetic disorder which is incurable and fatal. I cannot possibly imagine what it is like for a parent to cope with something like that, or how one processes the brutal reality of it. Emily has started up a blog for Ronan called Little Seal in which she is sharing her experiences, thoughts, and fears. Her writing is stunningly honest, eloquent, and expressive. Emily is a writer. It’s what she does. Her introductory blog post is one of the most moving pieces of writing I’ve ever read. She sugar-coats nothing, and sorts through her pain, frustration, and incomprehensible sadness in a way that is brilliant and brave, genuine and intimate. I have added Ronan’s Blog to my blogroll. A profound and harrowing journey lies ahead for Rick, Emily, and Ronan. Love and strength to all of them.

Today we commemorate the Martin Luther King holiday, a great inspirational figure who confronted his own share of trials and tribulations – tribulations of a different kind from what Rick and Emily are experiencing, but still symbolic of the struggles humankind endures, in varying forms and degrees, every single day. Some philosophers would argue that the entire human condition is nothing more than constant, inexorable struggle – struggle for peace, struggle for understanding, struggle for order out of chaos, justice out of injustice, love in the face of so much hatred. Even the struggle for personal happiness can sometimes seem insurmountable. But we seek out coping strategies wherever and however we can. Writing is one of the best. Emily knows that, as do I, as did King himself.

Martin Luther King sitting in his jail cell in Birmingham, Alabama:

The “soundtrack” to the civil rights movement was dominated by gospel and R & B. I am a huge fan of gospel music, and one of my favorite recording artists of that genre are The Staple Singers. Mavis Staples’ voice is, in my opinion, something otherworldy. For today’s “Music Monday”, in the spirit of King’s legacy, this is “Great Day” by the Staple Singers:

Evening Solace

Evening Solace – Charlotte Brontë

The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed;
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
And nights in rosy riot fly,
While, lost in Fame’s or Wealth’s illusion,
The memory of the Past may die.

But, there are hours of lonely musing,
Such as in evening silence come,
When, soft as birds their pinions closing,
The heart’s best feelings gather home.
Then in our souls there seems to languish
A tender grief that is not woe;
And thoughts that once wrung groans of anguish,
Now cause but some mild tears to flow.

And feelings, once as strong as passions,
Float softly back a faded dream;
Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,
The tale of others’ sufferings seem.
Oh ! when the heart is freshly bleeding,
How longs it for that time to be,
When, through the mist of years receding,
Its woes but live in reverie !

And it can dwell on moonlight glimmer,
On evening shade and loneliness;
And, while the sky grows dim and dimmer,
Feel no untold and strange distress
Only a deeper impulse given
By lonely hour and darkened room,
To solemn thoughts that soar to heaven,
Seeking a life and world to come.

Closed Eyes by Odilon Redon:

Advances in Sledding

When my brother and I were kids we had two options for snow day sledding. One option was the classic Flexible Flyer sled. Constructed of wood and steel, it was hard, cold, and not very comfortable. But it was sturdy. The other option was a garbage can cover. That’s it. Those were the limited choices for us children of the 70s. Now there’s not much to say about garbage can covers. They are what they are. But the Flexible Flyer was the bomb.

The one Chris and I had was put through hell, mainly due to Chris beating the crap out of it. He would sled full speed into trees, telephone poles, you name it. Chris was the older brother so he would sit at the front “steering” while I sat behind him, hanging on for dear life, as he took his little sister on a terrifying death ride. It was pretty nuts and dangerous in retrospect. And I don’t recall either of my parents ever watching or supervising us. Child safety wasn’t a big priority back in those days. We used to play on monkeybars with nothing but exposed concrete below us. We rode bikes with no helmets. We busted our butts on seesaws when we slammed into the ground. We were badass! Bruised, battered, and traumatized yes. But still badass

So now that I’ve taken everyone on a nostalgic trip through old school sledding, I ask you to take a look at this picture I took today at the park near my house:

Woo hoo! Those look like boogie boards to me. Very snazzy. Old school is officially dead, my friends. Kids today have stuff that is sleek, shiny, colorful, and ergonomic. I spent an hour photographing the “sledding hill” at the park and it was really fun. Part of me wanted to join in, but there was not one Flexi Flyer in sight. I wanted to kick it old school!

Check out this inflatable transport. You could cross the English Channel in that thing!

But really, it doesn’t make any difference which style of sled a child uses for snow day. The fun is all that matters. I can tell you that the kids in Queens were having a LOT of fun this afternoon, and I was having just as much fun photographing them See all my pictures on my Flickr page.

Dancing in My Dreams

Several times after art modeling I have been asked if I am a dancer. The question never fails to thrill me, even though the answer is, sadly, no. But just knowing that I give that impression is totally awesome. I’ve always regretted that I never took dance as a girl, specifically ballet. I really, really wanted to and probably should have pushed my parents to sign me up for classes. There was even a dance studio just a few blocks from my house. I would see girls going into the building and was envious. I pictured them in their ballet shoes and tights, practicing at the barre, doing plies, being elegant, graceful and beautiful.

Dance Class by Edgar Degas:

Maybe this subject is on my mind lately because of the movie “Black Swan” which is much talked about these days. I haven’t seen it yet. From what I hear it’s quite terrifying! But the movie isn’t really relevant. My childhood desire was never to become a professional star dancer or prima ballerina. I possess neither the drive, toughness, nor the competitive nature for that. That’s not what I’m made of. I simply wanted to take ballet classes for the poise, the music, the cute outfits, and the movement. Ah, the movement.

Charles Amable Lenoir’s A Dance By the Sea:

So perhaps it’s natural that I eventually fell into art modeling, a profession that emphasizes movement of the body and expression through physicality. Perhaps it symbolizes my latent, unrealized dream of being a dancer. I recognize that dancing and modeling are two very different things. But we have some common ground to be sure, particularly with regard to short pose art modeling. Both dancers and models engage in extension, balance, flexibility, and stretching. Lots of stretching! In a way, you could think of art modeling as “dancing” without the technique. After all, a “pose” is a frozen moment of movement. And dancers do, without question, make excellent art models.

La Danse Amoureuse, by Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger:

So I’ve come to terms with the reality that, at 42 years old, my chance to train as a dancer is long gone. But I do have art modeling. Instead of a dance studio, I have art studios. Instead of leotards and little skirts, I have my nude body. Instead of music to accompany me, I have the silent concentration of artists. Not too shabby

Let’s have a dance class-inspired “Music Monday”. A popular composition for ballet practice, this is Beethoven’s “Fur Elise”:

A Little Modeling and a Little Hopper

Hi friends! Did you all have a good week? I am finally back to work after the holiday break, and it feels good. But art modeling tends to trickle back in spurts after these recesses, so January will still be a relatively slow work month. After all these years I’ve learned and become accustomed to the erratic pattern of this business. March and April will be very busy. May can go either way. Then another brief break, and then summer sessions, etc, etc. The joys of freelance employment, right?

This new year has brought me to a wonderful art school founded by Robert Zeller, an MFA graduate of the New York Academy of Art. Rob has established The Teaching Studios of Art, which has two locations – one in Brooklyn and one in Oyster Bay, Long Island. I modeled at the Oyster Bay location yesterday for an intensive figure class and it was terrific. The students were great and Rob is an amazing teacher. I’m delighted to be working there now and happy to count The Teaching Studios among my places of employment.

I also to want to mention that the Whitney Museum here in New York is currently showing an exhibit of the American painter Edward Hopper. It’s called “Modern Life: Edward Hopper and His Time”. Hopper is one of those artists that people have either hot or cold feelings toward. Some people like him, and I am one of those people. I’ve always been a fan. Others, like my mother, claim that Hopper does nothing for them. But Mom is still open-minded enough to agree to see the Hopper exhibit with me. The show runs through April 10th, so I have plenty of time to drag her over there. I’ll butter her up a little bit and treat her to lunch beforehand

Here’s some Hopper for the day. This is Hotel by a Railroad, from 1952:

Suite Salvador

It’s “Music Monday” everyone, and what a nice treat we have. I came across this enchanting video which initially struck me as kind of random – the world-renowned cellist, and one of my favorite musicians, Yo-Yo Ma performing Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, set to a slideshow of Salvador Dali paintings and photos. The Bach and Yo-Yo Ma pairing makes perfect sense of course. It’s the Dali that seems the odd duck in this grouping. But then I watched the video, and what a wonderful surprise it was. Everything fell into place magnificently. It lends credence to the theory that if you simply combine timeless, inspired, quality things together you really can’t go wrong.

The “Prelude” to Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, which you will hear in this video, has become one of the most recognizable classical compositions due to its widespread use in movies and television, including an American Express commercial. It was especially prominent, I remember, in the 2000 movie “You Can Count on Me”. What makes the piece so haunting is that it is written for unaccompanied cello, which allows the soloist to communicate in a way that is both dominant and intimate. Cello creates such rich, resonant sounds, and when played expressively as Yo-Yo Ma does, the results are quite stirring.

So I hope you enjoy this video. Masterful Baroque meets masterful Surrealism, accompanied by the always masterful Yo-Yo Ma:

Bach – Cello Suite No.1 (Yo-Yo Ma), posted with vodpod

Hey, it’s 2011!!!

Could I be any less creative with that post title? Laaaame. Sorry. Ah, but who cares? Happy New Year Museworthy readers!!! Woo hoo!!

I’m a little late writing to all of you. I planned to post earlier in the day to greet the new year but I had the opportunity to go to the movies. Saw “The King’s Speech”. Really, really good! Plus, I think I’m officially in love with Colin Firth. Well, is there any adult woman of sound mind who isn’t in love with Colin Firth? I think not

I hope you all had a marvelous New Year’s Eve, whatever you chose to do – stay home, go out, sleep through it. It’s all good. I’m not a big New Year’s Eve person myself, but the occasion of a brand new year’s beginning is well worth observing, whether via socializing, or quiet personal reflection. Or boozing. Don’t forget the boozing. And now I have just set up the introduction to this crazy painting by the 17th century Belgian painter Adriaen Brouwer. It’s called The Bitter Draught, and I practically burst out laughing when I first saw it. Is that wrong? I don’t know if he intended this to be funny but the guy’s expression is hilarious. The man is clearly not happy with his beverage.

I have a good feeling about 2011. Hope it’s a great one for all of us. Cheers my dear, darling blog friends! See you soon