Karishma

For those of you who don’t follow me on Twitter, or who do follow me and may have missed this tweet, I think it’s really worth sharing again here on Museworthy so that all my readers can see it. It’s a video from BBC News about Karishma, a life model in India. Those of us who work as artist’s models in the West, and even better, in big cities with vibrant art scenes, are fortunate in many ways. I am conscious of this always. Karishma does her modeling in secret from her family, fearful of the social stigma that surrounds nudity and the conservative cultural attitudes that prevail in India today. She’s a brave young lady.

This video report reminds us of two important things: that life models who are able to work freely and regularly, should not take for granted our freedom to make a living at our profession. Some of us even blog about it The other point is that artists too should not take life drawing opportunities for granted. The video tells us that Karishma is the only model at the school, and life drawing is not even a regular part of the fine arts program. That is terrible. So to you artists in America and Canada and Europe, keep in mind that when you have a nude model posing for your group you are enjoying a truly wonderful privilege.

Emilie Flöge – Art and Fashion with Gustav Klimt

I spent a delicious hour browsing in the art section of Strand Bookstore the other night. For non-New Yorkers, or anyone who hasn’t experienced it, you should know that the Art section of Strand is a thing to behold. Although I don’t always, this time I walked out with a purchase: softcover book of Gustav Klimt drawings. At $6.95 a great bargain.

My book purchase sent me into Klimt mode. He’s one of my very favorite artists and it’s always good to re-visit favorites from time to time, to refresh our adoration, and be reminded of why we love them. So the time has come for me to post a magnificent Klimt that I’ve been meaning to share for the longest time. It’s archetypal Klimt. It’s dazzling. It’s colorful. It’s the one and only Emilie Flöge.

Portrait of Emilie Flöge, 1902, Gustav Klimt:

To say that women were Klimt’s preferred artistic subjects would be a spectacular understatement. Indeed, Klimt was a superb landscape painter, but his works of female models are his most notable, and memorable, creations. He acted on his obsessions with women unabashedly, and those obsessions were alive and kicking not just on his canvases but in his personal life as well. The man had a ferocious sexual appetite.

Emilie Flöge, however, was more than just some passing object of Klimt’s lust and affection. Not just another model strolling nude around his studio. Emilie was his partner, muse, and companion for years, right up until his death in 1918. They first met in 1891 when Emilie’s sister Helene married Ernst Klimt, Gustav’s brother. When Ernst died suddenly a year later, Klimt took on the role of guardian for Helene and became close with then 18 year old Emilie, also his sister-in-law.

Emilie was a skilled seamstress and, along with her sister Helene and older sister Pauline, started a dressmaking company that specialized in haute couture. The Flöge sisters salon, located in the heart of Vienna, was a great success. Emilie was an excellent businesswoman and a free-thinking, visionary designer. She created fashions during a most exciting, thriving era for all areas of arts and design – the turn-of-the-century and early 20th century. For women’s garments this signified a gradual goodbye to the dreaded corset, and the ushering in of looser shapes and less-constricting styles, which became known as “Reformed Dress”. Attitudes were changing. The Flöge sisters also promoted bolder patterns, many of which were designed by Emilie’s companion, Gustav Klimt. He also took fashion photographs, drew sketches, and designed some dresses himself. I bet all you men who admire Klimt as a macho, womanizing painter didn’t know he contributed his talents to the fashion world did you? I think it’s so cool! Klimt even designed the smock-like garment he is often wearing in photographs. Gustav Klimt, fashionista and metrosexual

In researching Emilie’s life on the internet, I found some of the best information on fashion websites. Check this one out and this one. And more photos of Emilie modeling her fashions on this message board.

It is unclear whether Klimt and Emilie’s relationship was romantic and sexual or purely platonic and professional. But Emilie is believed to be the female model in Klimt’s famous work The Kiss, which obviously suggests a sexual relationship. Either way, the two shared a very close bond. Their artistic pursuits and bohemian sensibilities made them an impressive pair, sought out by Viennese high society for commissioned art and custom made fashions.

This is a cute picture of them in their frocks:

My Klimt post from March 2009.

Musical Emotions

Hi friends. For Music Monday this week I’d like to share a terrific segment I heard on NPR’s On The Media. It explores the ability of music to elicit emotions in its listeners and identifies the specific elements that create such an effect.

Every one of us has experienced intense responsiveness to a piece of music at some point. Some of us have even been moved to tears. And if not moved to tears, to a feeling of emotional arousal that causes us to get lost in the moment. It’s quite thrilling when it happens. I feel tremendous emotional response when I listen to Beethoven. But of course, Beethoven was a master at provoking emotional response. Nobody does it better in my opinion.

The guest in the On The Media segment is Dan Levitin, professor of  Psychology, Behavioural Neuroscience, and Music at McGill University. He explains some compositional elements of music that work effectively in creating responsiveness, such as the use of arpeggiated chords, also known as broken chords. The opening measures of Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata”, which Levitin uses in the segment, is a perfect example of the arpeggio effect and how it taps into the feelings of the listener. Other factors include some element of surprise – unexpected flourishes, rhythms, crescendos, and spurts of dissonance.

The segment is only seven minutes long but well worth a listen. Very interesting and enjoyable.

Saint Cecilia by John William Waterhouse:

Big and Bold

I have previously expressed my fondness for big drawings. Not only are the results great to look at, but watching an artist in the process of working big is also an engrossing sight. At the Tuesday night life drawing session at the National Art League, Liguo Liang set up a big easel with a big drawing board and big sheet of brown paper and drew with big pieces of charcoal. That’s a lot of big stuff! Good thing the League offers a nice spacious room for its life drawing sessions.

As I held still in a long pose I observed Liguo’s animated drawing energy. He was standing the whole time, using movements with his entire arm and body, stepping back, stepping forward, creating wonderful scraping sounds with his charcoal on paper – the only sound to be heard in the otherwise quiet atmosphere. I don’t doubt the concentration of the the other artists, but Liguo was really into it!

The result is a forcefully rendered figure, well-placed on the large sheet of paper. Strong, thick lines, defined shapes, a simplified, boldly delineated image that dominates the paper’s surface. Liguo mentioned to me that he hadn’t done any drawing for many, many months and is ready to start attending regularly. I’d say he has many more strong drawings in his future. Click on sections of this picture for detailed close-ups.

American Songstress

Whitney Houston

August 9th, 1963 – February 11th, 2012

RIP

Senior Moments

A long day of work. It’s 11:00 PM when I get home and switch on the lights. Hang up bag, hang up coat. Neglected chores are waiting for me. Dirty dishes piled up in the kitchen sink. A full hamper of clothes that have to put in the washer. Garbage and recycling that needs to be put out on the curb. Ok. First things first: feed the cats. They’re hungry, the poor things. Prince and Jessie are outdoor cats and they eat from a dish on the small stoop outside my kitchen. I take a can of wet food, pull off the cover, and open the kitchen door. “Come on babies! Dinner!”. And there are Prince and Jessie, but they aren’t anxious for food with the usual pacing, rubbing, and tails up in the air, behaving the way hungry cats usually behave. Instead, they’re sitting comfortably, licking their lips, doing the distinctive post-meal cat cleaning. Content. Totally happy and at ease. Huh? Wait. What’s going on here? . . . .  Then it hit me. Oh my god. These cats have eaten already. I must have fed them, five minutes ago apparently, but . . . but . . . I forgot?? No. How is that possible? Didn’t I just walk in the door? I have absolutely no recollection . . . so I stand there, on the stoop, with an open cat food can in my hand, and Prince and Jessie look up at me with wide-eyes, like they’re thinking “More food? Yeah!!”. No, no, no. I must be imagining things. Maybe the cats are just cleaning themselves? I need proof. If I fed the cats already there would be an empty can in the garbage, right? So I peer into the garbage and sure enough, there it was – the empty cat food can right on top. I am unsettled. As someone who can always see humor in things, I see no humor in the situation at all. I am, actually, a little frightened.

A day off from work. Errands to run. I had made a mental note days earlier to buy three needed items from the drugstore: light bulbs, pack of AAA batteries, and a tissue box for my bedroom. I’d been needing these things for weeks but kept forgetting to buy them. Today is the day. I go to Duane Reade and get them. I arrive home and put said items in their proper storage places. All done. All good. Finished. An hour later I notice that my jacket had fallen off the hook on the kitchen wall. I pick it up off the floor and discover a plastic bag underneath. Hmm. What is this? I crouch down, open the plastic bag and pull out the contents. My heart pounds harder at the sight of each one: light bulbs. AAA batteries. Tissue box. Oh my god. No. Please god. Not again. The receipt is in the bag and I take it out. It’s dated from four days earlier. What. The. Hell. I did it already??? But I . . . what??? When???

ConEdison bill is due. I procrastinated so long I let it go down to the wire. Shit! It’s due today! So I call to pay over the phone with my credit card. I connect with an agent. “Ms. Hajian, this bill was paid yesterday.” he says. I am silent for a few seconds. “Yesterday?” I ask, like a meek, confused little mouse. “Yes, ma’am.”. I am flummoxed. I wrack my brain trying to recall when the hell I called to pay that that bill. For the life of me, I can’t remember. Grrrr … grrr. So I begin the mental rundown. Ok, what did I do yesterday? I woke up. Made coffee. Answered emails. Cleaned the glass on my bathroom mirror and wiped the sink. Yes I remember doing that. Talked to my neighbor outside for a few minutes. Took a shower. Called my Mom. Got dressed. Watered my plants. Went to work in the mid-afternoon. Came home at 10. When . . . WHEN did I call ConEd and pay my heating bill? WHEN??????? Ugh. Oh my god. I can’t fucking remember ever, ever, ever doing it. I started crying. Not out of self-pity, but out of fear.

As you’ve no doubt noticed from this anguished post, I’m only experiencing this problem over mundane, petty things. No significant aspects of my life have been impacted by this short term memory loss problem I’m having. My modeling schedule is completely unaffected. I go to the right job at the right time, flawlessly. When I have to fulfill an obligation or appointment that involves another person, I don’t disappoint. It’s only when I’m alone and have to tend to minor daily tasks that this issue occurs.

Just so everyone knows, and since I have voluntarily shared these humiliations with all of you, I am not a potsmoker. The last time I used weed was over 15 years ago. I don’t use any drugs except alcohol. And occasionally cigarettes. There is some Alzheimer’s disease in my family lineage.

A big blank empty swathe occupies your mind where memory is supposed to be. Things occurred, for a fact, and yet they are wiped away. Things that just happened recently. And yet, I remember the clothes I was wearing on my first date with my ex-husband. That was 22 years ago. I remember every dashboard detail of my first car, a 1985 Oldsmobile Delta 88. I remember the tight perm curls of my 8th grade english teacher. I remember the pink skin and heaving, breathing chest of my niece, born a preemie, as she lay in an incubator in the neonatal intensive care unit at Mt. Sinai hospital. I remember my first kiss, my first visit to the Louvre Museum as a teenager, my first role in a school play (Bye Bye Birdie) and my first step onto a modeling platform. I remember these things vividly. What I can’t remember, apparently, is that I fed my cats five minutes ago

But now, some minor activity takes place and then . . . :poof!: disappears. From my memory. Everything that happened before and after is intact. Just this one select daily item is erased. Randomly. Why the ConEd bill paying and not, say, my phone call to my mother? Or the plant watering? It cooks up a recipe of frustration, disorientation, insecurity, and confusion. I want, like everybody wants, a razor-sharp mind. I used to have one. Boy did I. Sharp like a saber. But now these empty gaps are slipping in. Over minor matters. And for some reason, they can really enrage you. And distress you. And make you feel  . . . far away.

I’m only 43 years old.

Working Girl

This is not a complaint by any means, nor a boast, but my modeling schedule is really rockin’! It’s 11:00 on Monday night and I am working a 12 hour day tomorrow

I also got calls and emails today for more bookings. Woo hoo! Of course, my concerns about my physical deterioration are becoming more and more legitimate with such a rigorous schedule. But the classes have been wonderful! Great energy, good spirits, and some fine artwork. How lucky am I to make a full time living as an artist’s model? Very lucky. Throw in regular compliments on my legs and I am a happy girl.  Like I said at the beginning of this post, no complaints.

But I am backed up on my blogging! I have so many posts in the works that I want to publish. Yeah, I was off on Sunday and had time to write, but I was consumed in the Super Bowl. How about those Giants!!

So I’m off to bed now. Need a good night’s sleep for a grueling day on Tuesday. Regular Museworthy art blogging and discussion will return shortly. In the meantime, here’s a joke:

A Polish immigrant went to the DMV to apply for a driver’s license.

First he had to take an eye test.

The optician showed him a card with the letters: “C Z W I X N O S T A C Z”

“Can you read this?” the optician asked.

“Read it?”,  the Polish man replied. “I know the guy!”

The Art of Winter

Helloo, helloooo!! How are my dear Museworthy friends? I’ve been immersed in a busy art modeling schedule which has been going smashingly, I’m happy to say. Have a few blog posts in the works about some pretty cool topics. They are all currently in unfinished draft form. I will get to them as soon as I have sufficient time to put in the effort they deserve. Very soon, I promise

Until then I’d like to share a wonderful video by artist Liam Rainsford, an artist, graphic designer, and photographer. Here in the New York area we’ve been having an unseasonably warm winter, especially the past few days. On Wednesday temperatures were in the 50s! The phrase, “Can you believe this weather?!” has been spoken a lot around town. The sun has been shining and heavy coats have been left hanging in the closet. But more authentic winter conditions have always been a source of great artistic inspiration, especially when it comes to landscapes. So I figured since we here in NY are lacking a true winter experience (so far) we might enjoy watching Liam’s process in creating his work “Bleak Winter”. It’s always fascinating to see a painting come to life. This video is done in time-lapse, for which I have a particular fondness. Enjoy friends!