Pompidou or Pompidont?

Yesterday was Wednesday. Realizing that my Paris trip was ending much too quickly, I set my alarm to get up earlier than need be so I could take a day trip back to Montmarte to see the Espace Dalí before I depart back to the US.

I first learned of Dalí in my high school Spanish classes - we had a print of "The Elephants" from 1948 hanging tin the back of the room. I have been slightly infatuated with that charming little mustached man ever since.

...

It was a blast and a half. This time, I actually wished that it had been a larger museum. (but I suppose that it was okay, since I knew I would be going to the Pompidou Centre later the same day.)

I don't want to talk to much about his work because I truly think it would take me hours and hours and hours since each piece is different from the next in a multitude of ways. The one piece I want to highlight is the piece that Maddi and Carver noted in their presentation this past week: "The Lobster Phone". 

Is it a phone? Is it a lobster? Its up to you, you little artist, you.

  

...

On to Pompidou! I was super excited to go to Pompidou because when I stayed in Maastricht last Friday the Dutch family I stayed with told me that it is a must see! :)

They were so right, this place was really, really interesting. Actually I feel like the perfect word to describe the place was pretty quirky. I liked it - in short.

The first piece to really catch my eye - you will understand in a minute why it is so eye catching - was a portrait of a young, tuberculus prostitute named Yvette. This piece, titled: "Yvette ou la robe à carreaux" by Auguste Elysée Chabaud was completed from 1907-1908. Here she is:

When I came across it on the 5th floor, I found myself staring into her raccoon-like eyes. It wasn't until the only other individual in the room with me, an older gentleman, mid-fifties, with graying hair covered by a strange green cap, gave me a couple weird looks that I realized that I was quite literally lol-ing. Whoops.

I really think that that is the reason that I really liked this piece. I think that there is power in being able to paint something that can evoke such a strong emotion in someone (in this case I just thought it was so laughably ludicrous). But nonetheless I loved it.

...

This next piece is one from an artists we discussed earlier in class, František Kupka. It is titled: "Motif Hundou" from 1919. 

I didn't like this one because it made me laugh. It didn't make me laugh at all. I like this one because I absolutely love the idea of hombred color. I got my hair hombre-d back in the day, off the top of my head I can picture 3 hombre article of clothing I own, I have done several hombre paintings myself within the past couple of years, my curtain in my room back home is even hombre-d. I think I might have a problem. But really, I love the idea of colors fading into and blending into their background and other colors surrounding them, I find it incredibly interesting to look at and all around beautiful.

...

The next piece I want to talk about is: "Bleu de Ciel" by Vassily Kandinsky, 1940. 

I had such a rush of emotions when viewing this piece. (Tyler teased me later for how long I stared at this one). It just was really, really reminded of my kids. Well, not MY kids - I work at the university's child development center where I spend all of my time with 28  fun-sized 14-33 month old beebees that I care for as they were my own. I couldn't help but think that they would be absolutely just as mesmerized by this piece as I was. It contained these playful, fun, quirky little characters that just floated about. (I am noticing a trend in my preferences for art that I haven't ever before - if a piece can make me laugh, I will probably love it).

...

The final piece that I am going to highlight is Gérard Ernest Schneider's "Peintre" from 1956.

I'm going to be straight up with you - I have this thing against the color green. It has to be the right shade and temperature for me to like it, and this green is NOT it. But nonetheless I will tell you what I DID like about this piece. But first, I'll start with a little anecdote about an unforgettable experience I had in ARTS 1102, the painting class I took last year. So one day, I walk into class and there is a chocolate cake with bright pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles all over it sitting by its lonely self in the middle of the studio. Resisting my temptation to finger the frosting when no one was looking, I set up my station and waited for my teacher to explain. She told us that that day, we would be testing out a new style of painting, painting with volume. What she wanted us to do was really be overly generous in the amount of paint we use, to build it up so that if we were to look at our painting from the side, we would be able to see it sticking off of the page. I tried really, really hard - but was pretty unsuccessful. (but I will try, try again!) Don't worry, the happy ending is that we got to eat the cake at then end of the class and it was delicious.

Back to "Peintre" - so this picture obviously doesn't do it any justice what-so-ever, but this painting was literally jumping off the canvas. I walked to see the it from the side and it was exactly what I was trying to capture that day in non-cake form. Although this shade of green does NOT at all tickle my fancy and I didn't get to eat cake after this piece, I really admire the style of painting, and I am hopeful that my next attempt will be half as successful as this.