Soft Focus: Julia Margaret Cameron at the Met

Thomas Carlyle, 1867

Thomas Carlyle, 1867

A delightfully small photography exhibition up at the Met displays early photography from a woman who cut a decidedly aesthetic path. Julia Margaret Cameron began taking photographs in 1863, about a decade after the wet-plate collodion process had been introduced and in the midst of contemporary debate about whether photography could be a form of fine art akin to painting or sculpture. Cameron inscribed a print of the powerful portrait above: “Carlyle like a rough block of Michelangelo’s sculpture,” claiming an artistic lineage not popularly given to photography at the time. At the same time, the great virtue of photography–it’s presumed truthfulness–was eschewed by Cameron for an aesthetic of soft focus and artful composition.

Pomona

Pomona, 1872

Seemingly a dauntless personality, Cameron’s led a rich and intrepid life as a women in Victorian England and was connected to many cultural figures–from her grandniece Virginia Woolfe to the PRB –who appear in her portraits. Pomona, above, is an allegorical scene modeled by Alice Liddell (as a little girl, Liddell was Lewis Caroll’s Alice for Alice in Wonderland). Allegorical scenes, elaborate tableaux, and soft focus portraits were as uncommon as a woman wielding a camera at the time, and regardless are well-worth seeing in their own right. Julia Margaret Cameron is up at the Met through January 5.

Circe-Cameron

Circe, 1865

 

When in Doubt: Do something…

Lucy R. Lippard’s instructions for Hans Ulrich Obrist’s DO IT project (included in a DO IT party-as-exhibition in Budapest last Spring):

imagesDo something that is: visually striking, socially radical, conceptually and contextually sensitive, sustainable, in the public domain (outside of art venues), and hurts no living thing–something that will change the world. Good luck!

 

 

Not bad advice, art or no.

kj

Color Comparison: Byzantine in Serbia, Modern in Stockholm

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Pure color resonance from the Byzantine mosaics of the Fruska Gora monasteries of northern Serbia and Yves Klien’s monochromatic canvases at the Moderna Museet in Stockholm.

These frescoes at the Velika Remeta monastery are the newest I saw of the three monasteries I visited that day. They were all Serbian Orthodox churches that had moved to these lush rolling hills to escape the Ottoman invasions. The old churches were later surrounded, quite close up, by newer cloisters, where monks, nuns, or sometimes both together, always led by a male priest, cared for the church and community. In the first one the bright, bold frescoes were relatively new, but still in the flat Byzantine style and surrounding a valuable icon of the three-handed Virgin Mary. I saw copies of this icon in the next two monasteries as well,  all after from the same original that is apparently very special and located in present-day Ukraine. The continuity of tradition was striking.

When I was in Stockholm a few weeks later, the blues and golds reminded me forcefully of the Orthodox church decoration I had seen, particularly this first one.