#what is abstract expressionism about

[zytes]

neucypher

[patrickelvinart]

A blue, so long ago

colored pencil and black sharpie

Calbayog City 2024

The Philippine Sea is a deep almost violet blue.

It came to me in a dream once.

And now I'm here.

But I'm not there.

And isn't that where I've always been?

This drawing is pretty much done, but it's not done.

In any case, I've moved on to the next piece.

Write that on my tombstone.

Samar, Philippines 2024

Akae Beka - The Earth is the Lord

[graegrape]

im so bored of people posting about "art" and then the only thing on their page is

- impressionist painting of a landscape

- impressionist painting of a landscape

- impressionist painting of a landscape

- holy shit it's realism or neoclassicism

- impressionist painting of a landscape

[dreamgirledward]

i think more people should be mean to the particular 'a kid/i could make that' crowd of people who dislike or even hate modern art

[butchlifeguard]

sorry but i will always be the number one defender of academic language

[dailyrothko]

No, the Popularity of Abstract Art is Not the Result of a CIA PsyOp

If you are unlucky enough to move around the internet these days and talk about art, you’ll find that many “First commenters” will hit you with what they see as some hard truth about your taste in art. Comments usually start with how modern art is “money laundering” always comically misunderstanding what that means. What they are saying is that, of course, rich people use investments as tax shelters and things like expensive antiques and art appraised at high prices to increase their net worth. Oh my god, I’ve been red-pilled. The rich getting richer? I have never heard of such a thing.

What is conveniently left out of this type of comment is that the same valuation and financial shenanigans occur with baseball cards, wine, vacation homes, guitars, and dozens of other things. It does indeed happen with art, but even the kind that the most conservative internet curator can appreciate. After all, Rembrandts are worth money too, you just don’t see many because he’s not making any more of them. The only appropriate response to these people who are, almost inevitably themselves, the worst artists you have ever seen, is silence. It would cruel to ask about their own art because there’s a danger they might actually enjoy such a truly novel experience.

When you are done shaking your head that you just subjected yourself to an argument about the venality of poor artists plotting to make their work valuable after they died, you can certainly then enjoy the accompanying felicity of the revelation they have saved to knock you off your feet: “Abstract art is a CIA PsyOp”

Here one must get ready either to type a lot or to simply say “Except factually” and go along your merry, abstract-art-loving way. But what are the facts? Unsurprisingly with things involving US government covert operations, the facts are not so clear.

Like everything on the internet, you are unlikely to find factual roots to the arguments about government conspiracies and modern art. The mere idea of it is enough to bring blossom for the “I’m not a sheep” crowd, some of whom believe that a gold toilet owning former president is a morally good, honest hard-working man of the people.

The roots of this contention come from a 1973 article in Artforum magazine, where art critic Max Kozloff wrote about post-war American painting in the context of the Cold War, centering around Irving Sandler’s book, The Triumph of American Painting (1970). Kozloff takes on more than just abstract expressionism in his article but condemns the “Self-congratulatory mood”of Sandler’s book and goes on to suggest the rise of abstract expressionism was a “Benevolent form of propaganda”. Kozoloff treads a difficult line here, asserting that abstraction was genuinely important to American art but that its luminaries, “have acquired their present blue-chip status partly through elements in their work that affirm our most recognizable norms and mores.”

While there were rumblings of agreements around Kozloff’s article of broad concerns, it did not give birth to an actual conspiracy theory at the time. The real public apprehension of this idea seems to mostly come from articles written by historian Frances Stonor Saunders in support of her book, “The Cultural Cold War: The CIA and the World of Arts and Letters” (New York, New Press, 2000). (I have not read this 525 page book, only excerpts).

The gist of Ms. Saunders argument is a tantalizing, but mostly unsupported, labyrinthine maze of back door funding and novelistic cloak and dagger deals. According to Saunders, the Congress for Cultural Freedom (CCF), an anti-communist cultural organization founded in 1950, was behind the promotion of Abstract art as part of their effort to be opinion makers in the war against communism. In 1966 it was revealed that the CCF was funded by the CIA. Saunders says that the CCF financed a litany of art exhibitions including “The New American Painting” which toured Europe in the late 1950s. Some of this is true, but it’s difficult, if not impossible, to know the specifics.

Noted expert in abstract-expressionism, David Anfam said CIA presence was real. It was “a well-documented fact” that the CIA co-opted Abstract Expressionism in their propaganda war against Russia. “Even The New American Painting [exhibition] had some CIA funding behind it,” he says. But the reasons for this are not quite what the abstract art detractors might be looking for. After all, the CCF also funded the travel expenses for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and promoted Fodor’s travel guides. More than trying to pull the wool over anyone’s eyes, it was meant to showcase the freedom artists in the US. enjoyed. Or as Anfam goes on to say, “It’s a very shrewd and cynical strategy, because it showed that you could do whatever you liked in America.”

For what it’s worth, Saunders’s book was eviscerated in the Summer 2000 issue of Art Forum at the time of its publication. Robert Simon wrote:

“Saunders draws extensively on primary and secondary sources, focusing on the convoluted money trail as it twists through dummy corporations, front men, anonymous donors, and phony fund-raising events aimed at filling the CCF’s coffers. She makes lengthy forays into such topics as McCarthyism, the formation and operation of the CIA, the propaganda work of the Hollywood film industry, and New York cultural politics—from Partisan Review to MoMA to Abstract Expressionism. Yet what seems strangely absent from Saunders’s panoramic history, as if it were a minor detail or something too obvious to require discussion, is the cultural object itself: The complex specifics of the texts, exhibitions, intellectual gatherings, paintings, and performances of the culture war are largely left out of the story.”

Another problem with the book seems to be that Saunders is an historian but not an art historian. For me, I sensed an overtone of superiority in the tale she’s spinning and most assuredly from those that repeat its conclusion. The thinly veiled message of some is that if it were “Real art” it would not have had be part of this government subterfuge. The reality is very different. For one thing, most of us know it is simply not true that you can make people devoted to a type of art for 100 years that they would sensibly hate otherwise. Another issue is that it’s quite obvious none of the artists actually knew about any government interference if there was any. Pollock, Rothko, Gottlieb and Newmann were all either communists or anarchists. Hardly the group one would recruit the help the US government free the world of communism. Additionally, this narrow cold war timeline ignores a huge amount of abstract art that Jackson Pollock haters also revile and consider part of the same hijacking of high (Frankly, Greek, Roman, or Renaissance) culture. If you look at the highly abstract signature work of Piet Mondrian and observe the dates they were painted, you’ll see 1908, 1914, 1916. This is some of the art denigrated as a CIA PsyOP, 35 years before the CIA even thought about it. Modern art didn’t come from nowhere as many would have you believe to discredit its rise. There was Surrealism, Dada, Bauhaus, Russian futurism and a host of other movements that fueled it.

Generally, people like to argue. On the internet, “I don’t like this” is a weak statement that always must be replaced by “This is garbage” or my favorite, “This is fake.”

It’s hardly surprising that the more conservative factions of our society look for any government involvement in our lives to explain why things are not exactly as they wish them to be, given the (highly ironic) conservative government-blaming that blew up after Reagan. In addition, modern fascists have always had a love affair with the classical fantasy of Greece and Rome. Both Mussolini and Hitler used Greece and Rome as “Distant models” to address their uncertain national identity. The Nazis confiscated more than 5,000 works in German museums, presenting 650 of them in the Entartete Kunst (Degenerate Art, 1937) show to demonstrate the perverted nature of modern art. It featured artists including Marc Chagall, Max Ernst, Wassily Kandinsky, and Paul Klee, among others. The fear of art was real. It was the fear of ideas.

To a lot of people on the internet just the mentioning a “CIA program” is enough to get the cogs turning, but as with many things, the reality of CIA programs and government plots is often less than evidence of well planned coup.

The CIA reportedly spent 20 millions dollars on Operation Acoustic Kitty which intended to use cats to spy on the Kremlin and Soviet embassies. Microphones were planted on cats and plans were set in motion to get the cats to surreptitiously record important conversations. However, the CIA soon discovered that they were cats and not agreeable to any kind of regulation of their behavior.

As part of Operation Mongoose the CIA planned to undermine Castro's public image by putting thallium salts in his shoes, which would cause his beard to fall out, while he was on a trip outside Cuba. He was expected to leave his shoes outside his hotel room to be polished, at which point the salts would be administered. The plan was abandoned because Castro canceled the trip.

Regardless of your feelings on this subject or how much you believe abstract art benefited from government dollars, Saunders herself quotes in her book a CIA officer apparently involved in these “Long leash” influence operations. He says, “We wanted to unite all the people who were writers, who were musicians, who were artists, to demonstrate that the West and the United States was devoted to freedom of expression and to intellectual achievement, without any rigid barriers as to what you must write, and what you must say, and what you must do.” Hardly the Illuminati plot we were promised.

In 2016, Irving Sandler, author of the book that started Kozloff tirading in 1973, told Alastair Sooke of The Daily Telegraph, “There was absolutely no involvement of any government agency. I haven’t seen a single fact that indicates there was this kind of collusion. Surely, by now, something – anything – would have emerged. And isn’t it interesting that the federal government at the time considered Abstract Expressionism a Communist plot to undermine American society?”

This blog post contains information and quotes sourced from The Piper Played to Us All: Orchestrating the Cultural Cold War in the USA, Europe, and Latin America, Russell H. Bartley International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society, Vol. 14, No. 3 (Spring, 2001), pp. 571-619 (49 pages) https://www.bbc.com/culture/article/20161004-was-modern-art-a-weapon-of-the-cia https://brill.com/view/journals/fasc/8/2/article-p127_127.xml?language=en https://www.guggenheim-bilbao.eus/en/learn/schools/teachers-guides/the-dark-side-of-classicism https://www.artforum.com/features/american-painting-during-the-cold-war-212902/ https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/modern-art-was-cia-weapon-1578808.html https://www.artforum.com/columns/frances-stonor-saunders-162391/ https://www.artforum.com/features/abstract-expressionism-weapon-of-the-cold-war-214234/ Mark Rothko and the Development of American Modernism 1938-1948 Jonathan Harris, Oxford Art Journal, Vol. 11, No. 1 (1988), pp. 40-50 (11 pages)

[mybeingthere]

Richard Mayhew, b 1924 of African American and Native American ancestry.

Born in 1924 and raised in Amityville, New York, on Long Island’s south shore, Richard Mayhew’s passion for painting was sparked by watching the artists who summered in the environs of Amityville and painted its scenic shoreline. Inspired by these artists, young Mayhew used brushes and paints from his father’s sign painting business to copy what the artists were doing. When Richard Mayhew was 14 years old, one of the artists recognized the young man’s talent and taught him the fundamentals of drawing and painting. Throughout his teenage years, Richard Mayhew made several trips into New York City to study the works of the European and American masters on view at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. By age 17, he had made up his mind to become an artist.

For Richard Mayhew, the essence of reality is more important than its facts. His landscape paintings aren’t the facts of a landscape but the spirit of a landscape. That spirit shimmers through a haze saturated with color.

His emotional and spiritual connection to the natural world has its roots in his African American and Native American ancestry: his father was African American and Shinnecock; his mother, African American and Cherokee. During his boyhood, his paternal grandmother supported his art endeavors and schooled him in the Native Americans kinship with the earth.

After his service as a Montfort Point Marine, Mayhew moved to New York in 1947, a crucial period in American art history. Abstract Expressionism, the first truly homegrown American art movement, was electrifying the public, igniting passionate discussions among the cognoscenti about what constitutes art in the first place and what is its purpose in the public realm. Richard Mayhew, now a student at the Brooklyn Museum’s school of art, with additional courses at Pratt Institute and Columbia, thrived in this fevered environment. The painterly freedom of the Abstract Expressionists had a profound influence on Richard Mayhew, opening his canvases to the wild essence of being that was in kinship with the spirituality of his heritage.

[bacusdraculacape]

My interpretation / findings regarding TLSP: Everything You’ve Come To Expect (album)

PART 1: The Album Cover

The initial interesting thing about EYCTE is it’s album cover:

The image is a photograph of Tina Turner taken from a photography session on 25 November 1969 by photographer Jack Robinson.

Jack Robinson is renowned for his work in the 1960s for his photography of fashion and celebrity portraits he shot for Vogue and Vanity Fair. In 1972, he gave up photography and found a creative outlet in the designing of stained glass windows. However, what’s most prominent and most interesting to me about him is that his work preserved valuable glimpses into the New Orleans gay subculture of the 1950s. During this time, Jack fell in love with a young man named Gabriel, whom he photographed many times - often in the nude. In 1954, Robinson and Gabriel travelled to Mexico. There, Robinson captured Mexican scenes in large and medium format photographs. He also photographed his travelling companions, including Gabriel and Betty Parsons- an American artist, art dealer, collector, and lesbian well renowned for her early promotion of Abstract Expressionism.

Aswell- the album cover for EYCTE is an image of Tina Turner- well-renowned singer/songwriter who is famously known for standing up and advocating for LGBTQIA+ community and rights in times when rarely any celebrities would because as we know they were irrational cowards then unfortunately.

Anyways ;) according to interviews, Alex Turner had the photograph hanging in his kitchen, and both our Monkey and Turtle (Miles Kane) liked the image so much that they ended up using it. When they got permission to use it, the original b/w photograph was giving a goldeny / orangey / yellowish tinge- On the LGBTQIA+ flag yellow represents sunlight. Orange represents healing. Sunlight is commonly a metaphor for: the light of truth and being. And the definition of healing is: to make well again.

Sources of info:

Tina-turner-jack-robinson-november-25-1969

Jack Robinson.html

Betty Parsons.html

Dealer-betty-parsons-pioneered-male-abstract-expressionistsbut-who-were-the-unrecognized-women-54682

images taken from pinterest :)

[thegvaconnoisseurs]

BIOS || Abex

Abex is a member of the Hue Crew that replaces Yellow from the original series. He was based on the stick figure representing Alan Becker (oh my god !!! its the guy who made the thing !!!) in early AvG thumbnails, and his name was derived from Alan's Roblox username, Abex01.

Abex's Arcrex was designed to be the perfect blend of form and function. While its main purpose is of a shield, the boomerang/propeller attached to the front allows the Arcrex to be used at range and for enhanced movement... theoretically. Abex has burned through countless blueprints and discarded metals to make the concept into a working weapon. But even after all that, you could find him at the forge conceptualizing the next improvement.

The trident was one of the best things Abex discovered in Minecraft. Its melee and ranged capabilities made it Abex's favorite Minecraft weapon, and he's been using the same one he first got from a certain misadventure.

Seen as the "caretaker friend" amongst the Hue Crew, Abex helps keep the group composed; he's the first to listen and provide insight if there's a problem. For this reason, he was the most welcoming to Dormant's entrance to the Forge, quickly becoming one of his best friends as with the rest of the crew. Abex also has a keen interest in art (specifically abstract expressionism), something he shows Dormant after discovering something... important about him.

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Filters & Discord Post Link

AvG Discord Post

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P.S. Yall I gotta formally apologize today is NOT the 29th I do not know what happened

[shamixlour]

Talking about parallels once again because why not.

Thinking about how Will's becoming is quite figurative and slow. He does not change instantly. For him, it is gradual but eventually, after years, he comes to terms with it and ends up accepting this dark part of himself, sure in a very sedative rhythm, but he does. Which brings me to how his exchanges with Hannibal, despite being methaphorical proses based on psychological/psychiatrical ideas and concepts are direct and honest. They are rather literal in their dialogues, in their own way and sure as an audience member we might get confused but they don't. They know e/o, understand what they mean, know what they try to say/confess in utter clarity regardless of it all.

And then...then I think of Louis and his transformation, which is literal and instantaneous. He becomes a vampire in a meaningless laps of time, only a few minutes. The change in him is immediate and while they do have in common with Will the fact that the acceptation of it is long and slow, they are still different. Louis's transformation does not require years in the making, it's quick, fast and yet his exchanges with Lestat are sprinkled with actual figurativeness despite being literal dialogues. The witholding, the "not actually saying" is such a big part of their relationship.

Hannibal and Will are metaphorical and love to use abstract expressionism in their conversations but they talk and most importantly, they understand that they are indeed talking. Loustat and Hannigram are all friends sure, lovers even (respectively) but loustat don't talk about the real shit like Hannigram do, they don't talk about shit that hurts, that makes them petrified, about what they actually are, they brush over it, graze the tips of it but never really say it.

Hannigram has found a way to literally communicate using figurative means and expression tools. Loustat has found a way to mostly be figurative, hence blurry and never definite, while using literal wordings.

In a way, they are opposite and i love it.

[brostradamus]

ramblings about AM in a relationship/what kind of s/o could fix him. know that im def not a person who’s deep into psychoanalysis / staying strict to a character’s personality so this might be ooc??? idk please bear w me. Whole thing is under the cut bc i think it’s pretty long n p sloppy 2. but enjoy regardless

anyways I rlly like to think that AM would most thrive in a relationship where he has equal / lesser power to his partner. not like whole ass power imbalance obv but just whre cant always hurt/bother his s/o. I’m sure AM would probably say some shit that might hurt his s/o’s feelings but a partner he’d be most compatible w/ would most likely avoid the torture mostly or altogether w/ the exception of verbal harassment cause there’s enough 2 go around 4 everyone. Also bonus points to s/os who are completely untouchable either bc they’re stronger than AM or AM decides that he doesn’t want to hurt them/can’t bring himself to.

also maybe he’d do well w someone who challenges his beliefs. tbh I feel like he’d gravitate towards people who might share his beliefs/hatred towards humanity, but if he’s supposed to grow then he’s gotta have a s/o that views humanity differently. Said s/o doesn’t even have 2 have a strictly polar opposite view on humanity, just a view that isn’t nihilistic and misanthropic. He might not be entirely receptive at first either but the further you continue to challenge his beliefs, the more likely he is to start thinking about other ideas.

Another thing that might make AM a little more accepting towards humans is a s/o that he *has* to rely on one way or another. most likely this is going to be an engineer/programming s/o. He’s likely not going to want to, but him knowing that he can rely on someone else might make him not close himself off as often.

artistic s/os might be able to help soften AM up a little too. i sometimes like 2 think that AM would actually really enjoy art, but it just depends on which kind of art. Realism he won’t really gaf about but he might gravitate towards expressionist works, along with abstract/absurdist and surreal art. this would include all art forms btw not just drawing and painting. reason for thinking he might like abstract over realism is bc realism is too ‘real’ (whatever yall think that would mean) for his liking / represents what he hates most about humanity. Abstract artwork also represents parts he hates ab humanity but it also gives him a physical representation of the things he lacks (ie expressionism w/ feelings/emotions, surrealism with the subconscious thought, etc etc) and might be the closest thing he can get to actually feeling/having senses

AM would most likely benefit from a s/o who is willing to “give” him sensation, whether it be literally by creating him a whole ass nervous + cognitive system that allowed him to have senses and feelings or even just a s/o who is willing to help him understand how certain things feel. This could be by the s/o describing how emotions feel through imagery, creating art w/ AM or *for* AM if he is unable to for whatever reason, etc. it won’t be exactly what he want ofc, but he might not be entirely bitter ab it.

I don’t think AM necessarily needs an android body to show love, but it would help :3c. Even if he still doesn’t have senses for whatever reason, it would absolutely still help him show his love towards his s/o through physical touch. W/o senses, just having his circuit’s warmed by his s/o (if they’re a human) is… well it’s not *enough* but it’ll do. And if he happens to have senses in his android body man he’s gonna be attached 2 u like lice on a healthy head of hair. he WOULD be touch starved.

Which brings me onto my next point. A s/o that can handle his “””affectionate”””side. I rlly feel like his perception of affection might be a little off (super off actually) and likely a little violent/aggressive. It’ll almost be like him having cuteness aggression towards a s/o and acting out on impulse. This might occur in squeezing, pulling and tugging and Android AM may bite and scratch/restrain. Also I when I mean “handle” I don’t exactly mean endure and ignore/accept. again this leads me to another point

A s/o that is able to set boundaries w/ AM is a must. I genuinely don’t think that any relationship w AM will go good if the s/o he’s with can’t put in place proper boundaries. For human s/os, this would be especially important as he might get aggressive physically (whether it’s due to like. him JST absolutely hating ur ass or him getting that ‘cuteness aggressive’ thing I just mentioned previously. note that it’s not rlly like cuteness aggression but he might be like ‘hm I’ll show my love to my s/o thru the only way I know. Violence”).

ok well I think this is all 4 now. if anyone wants 2 add onto it I’d luv 2 hear yalls input if yall had any :3c. I hope u guys atleast got some entertainment value out of this?? Either way i hope yallve enjoyed my ramblings

[nobrashfestivity]

how do you choose what you post which day

I don't have a plan.

A decade ago when this blog started, I thought I'd combine Japanese prints and abstract expressionism with a little photography (Eggleston etc.) . Plans fell apart quickly.

Now, I have no method! I do get little rhythmic obsessions that guide my blogging, which would make no sense to anyone but me.

Like, I enjoy a number of kind of austere types of artworks and photos, (moody I guess?) and even Ukiyoe can fit there, maybe Cy Twombly photographs, Tarkovsky anything, Harald Sohlberg paintings, old astronomy photos, Lee Ufan, Rothko etc. It's a tamped down feeling that I like in a lot of art. Some would say melancholy, but also retrained usually, in some regard. But you can feel overwhelmed by that rhythm and want some crazy collage or allegorical folk art to give the whole proceeding some energy. And so, I look at my feed and kind of get annoyed, like "There's not enough painting this week" or "There's nothing curious" and it's just blogging and I wouldn't call it more but we all have our little rhythms to things.

The internet, while ruining the world, has lots of little art rabbit holes. My favorite art is maybe where you look and ask why about something. Like what's happening. Street photography can have that quality. And, while straight surrealistic painting tends toward a sort of boring, childish illusion a lot of the time, some allegorical art also has that wonder in it. Not childlike wonder, but rather, "what did I miss"

I guess i didn't answer. Sorry, I don't sleep a lot. When I elect to answer something in the morning, I'm thankfully still dreaming.

[ourladyofmaplemurder]

Riverdale is Bad and I’m So Smart

So, I was going to make a response video to Friendly Space Ninja's video on the finale...but honestly, there are just other things I'd rather do with my time...

I did, however, write a script for the video. You can read that here if you wish.

The short version is that people who talk about art the way he does are fucking idiots and I'm tired of being nice about it. If you don't know what you're talking about, either figure it out or shut the fuck up. **And let me clarify: There is a big difference from expressing a personal opinion to friends and standing on authority with a huge platform to provide "critique". Huge difference. Not understanding or not liking the finale is totally valid, (It wasn't necessarily what I would have done with the final season) but what makes me angry about this guy in particular is that he positions himself as an authority on media criticism and analysis. He then provides the shittiest fucking examples of both. I can't stand it.

Hi. So. Our dear friend Friendly Space Ninja put out another video about Riverdale. This time, he took it upon himself to discuss the finale. Anything for a click, right, buddy?

Well, he made all sorts of claims about the finale and the final season. He gave his thoughts on the show as a whole. And all of it, dear viewer is entirely worthless. Strong statement, I know, but hear me out.

He didn’t watch the latter half of season 5, nor season 6 at all. He didn’t even watch all of season 7. He watched the first few episodes with specific expectations and when those were not met, he skipped to the end only to be baffled by its conclusion, claiming that it was all meaningless and even going as far as to “explain” quote unquote that Angel Tabitha’s rework of the timelines erases the other shows that Roberto Agurrie Sacasa has made. This, by the way, demonstrates such a lack of understanding of the surface level plot, that I can’t even respond to it.

For these reasons, I will not be refuting his assertions as I did in my last video response to him. It’s simply not worth it. His video is so deeply stupid that picking it apart would be giving it more credit than it deserves.

I was very diplomatic in my last response video, but I really don’t wish to be this time. I really don’t think it’s worth it.

However, I would like to say a few things, just to give you a sense of why I am so fucking angry.

Firstly, I’d like to talk about the work of Barnett Newman. In particular, I’d like to talk about Who’s Afraid of Red, Yellow and Blue III. The first time I saw this painting, or even just paintings like it, I scoffed and said, “Why is something like this in a museum? It’s stupid. It’s just red, yellow, and blue. Is this even art?” Years later, however, I learned an interesting story about this painting.

In 1986 the painting was vandalized in an anti-Semitic attack. Daniel Goldreyer attempted to restore the painting in 1991. Should be easy, right? I mean, it’s just three colors.

However, the effort proved utterly unsuccessful as the depth of the color was incredibly difficult to replicate. The skill required to create this painting was far more than the untrained eye could perceive.

The first time I saw this painting, I did not understand it and condemned it as stupid because I was an arrogant prick.

And I’m sure hundreds of thousands of people who also don’t understand painting would agree with such a dismissive sentiment.

But just because I have millions of people agreeing with me doesn’t mean I know anything. It just means a lot of people don’t understand painting. That’s it.

Friendly Space Ninja’s video on Riverdale is the equivalent of someone looking at this painting and calling it stupid without understanding anything about abstract expressionism, painting techniques, and the works of Neoplasticism that this series was responding to.

It is watching Sunset Boulevard and complaining there is no color.  

It is the equivalent of an incel giving you dating advice.

But let me address Mr. Space Ninja directly and I won’t use any metaphors because I want this to be understood.

More than making a stupid response to Riverdale, your crime, Mr. Space Ninja, is arrogance. You look at a piece of art, you are utterly baffled by it, as you yourself say in the video, and you assume that the art must be the stupid one. It couldn’t be that it’s going over your head. No. It must be meaningless because you can’t grasp its meaning.

This is very troubling and also quite sad.

Though, I suspect you have no interest in providing useful insight into the works you discuss. It’s far more lucrative to provide inflammatory confirmation bias and, at the end of the day, that’s all you’re really doing. And to be clear, that is an insult. Wouldn’t want you to miss that. <3

Now, I also watched Alex Meyer’s video on the finale as well out of curiosity, as he also has a large platform. I haven’t watched his other videos because they seemed overtly negative about the show and I figured they wouldn’t be even remotely enjoyable. Curiosity won out though and honestly, though the sacred cow he is mocking is mine and thus, I disagree…I can’t fault him for this. There was a lot of care and thought that went into this. Even if he thinks the show is silly (and it certainly is) there’s a clear affection for it.

Not only that, but towards the end of the video he says this: “Time will be kind to your show. And all the chucklefucks like me with our kneejerk reactions? That's all going to fade away."

He also acknowledges the fact that there might be more to it than just the silliness. He doesn’t talk about it because he prefers to joke about the show rather than analyze it. He’s a jester, not a scholar. I could never fault him for that.

But I also don’t think anyone in their right mind would consider this critique. This is a comedy bit. And I’m not saying that comedy is less important or valuable than analysis. Not at all. It’s just different.

Anyway. Friendly Space Ninja. Fuck you.

[lualuabestningdungie]

Haunted | C. Beomgyu

Chapter 1

Pairing nonidol!beomgyu x afab!reader; genre angst, a bit of fluff, non-established relationship; warnings fwb situation, mentions of stress, anxiety, public speaking, mentions of alcohol, toxic relationships; wc 2k

haunted

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It is real that an artist displays their feelings on a canvas. Mixtures of colors, simple lines, rough brushstrokes, and soft. All types of emotions could be seen in your canvas.

The art exhibition was held in a downtown museum, where only a few people attended. The dim lighting of the room casts a soft glow on the walls, illuminating the artwork and creating an intimate atmosphere that invites contemplation and reflection.

The room is quiet and the only thing echoing was your voice, as you explained to the small group of people some of your paintings. The hushed tones and attentive expressions of the listeners reflect their deep appreciation for your artwork and the vulnerability you share through your creations.

As you continued to guide the attendees through the gallery, sharing insights about your artwork, you didn't expect anyone to ask questions or give their opinions, until someone interrupted you.

"Could you tell us more about the inspiration behind this painting?" he asks, gesturing toward a piece that you were talking about. His face was oddly familiar, you were sure you had seen him before. And then it hit you.

A tall man, with long brown hair, and glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. Choi Beomgyu.  He was in the back of the crowd, almost as if he had emerged from the shadows.

"Of course." You said startled, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. You were surprised that he had somehow managed to come back. It had been almost a year and a half since you last saw him since he left to Japan, and since you two broke up. 

As you begin to explain the inspiration behind the painting, you notice the man's intense gaze fixed on you, his eyes reflecting a genuine interest and curiosity that sets him apart from the rest of the people.

"My technique was abstract expressionism. My goal was to portray how strong feelings such as sadness, fear, guilt, and even love, affect a person. But I believe that this piece has a subjective meaning, this is what it means to me, but it could have a different interpretation for each of you." You explained.

A satisfied smile appeared on his lips. After your exposition came to an end, and people walked over to you to congratulate you and say thank you, you stayed behind for a few minutes to relax after feeling the pressure of having to give a perfect exhibition, hoping that people were satisfied with your work.

"I have to say, I'm very impressed." You heard his voice, you turned around to see him. “It’s been a while, huh?”

"Beomgyu…” Your eyes widened. You hadn’t been able to concentrate properly through the rest of your exhibit.

"Hello yn, how’ve you been?” He smiled.

Your words were trapped in your throat, still couldn’t believe that he was there, standing in front of you. “I’m… I’m okay.” You managed to say.

“I’m glad you’re okay. You look beautiful, as always.” His words always had an effect on you. His presence somehow brought you nostalgia. Maybe you missed him more than you thought.

“Thank you. You look good too.” Your shy words made him chuckle.

“Thanks.” He moved closer to you. He placed his hand on his pockets, the sight of his rolled-up sleeves from his button-up made your heart race. “I saw you were having an art exhibit the same day I was coming back, I didn’t want to miss it.”

"Well, that's a lovely coincidence." You said, surprised by his words.

"Perhaps fate." He smiled. 

"Well the museum is about to close, so we better get going." You said after a small silence not knowing how to continue the conversation. You didn’t know how to feel at that moment, a lot of things were going on, and it felt almost overwhelming.

"I would love to keep talking to you, yn. Do you, maybe, want to have dinner with me? " He offered as the both of you walked towards the exit.

This is something you don't regularly do. Since many of your friends were always busy, you hardly saw them, but it was nice to have someone to talk to. And you do need to relax after talking in front of a lot of people.

"I would like that." His smile widened.

"Great," Beomgyu said, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

You walked next to Beomgyu until you reached a small restaurant that was just across the street. The dim light of the place made it look more comfortable to be in, soft jazz music played in the background, and only hushed conversations from the people there could be heard.

You sat near a window, the lamp posts outside illuminated the pavement outside, casting a soft glow on the snow covering the sidewalks.

"So..." Beomgyu started and you turned to see him. "How’s everything going? Did anything happen while I was gone?” 

Yes. A lot happened. 

The first few months without him were tormentous for you. You didn’t know how much you’d miss him. Even though you knew he’d eventually leave, you never really prepared for it. Missing him felt like complete emptiness. Mainly because you had no idea for how long he’d be gone. Two weeks, two months, two years. It was only a year and a half. But it felt like an eternity. 

Even though it wasn’t really breaking up, you felt as if you were going through the harshest break up. Separating from your other half, having to spend your nights alone, and not being able to hold them. Everything hurt.

It hurt how much you depended on him. Therapy could never take the feeling of longing and need you had for him. You knew depending on someone like that was not okay, but he was the one who was always there for you.

No, you weren’t perfect together, but you loved him and he loved you, and you loved being with each other. You always made it work out in the end.

He still was the one who soothed you, the one who helped you relieve all the anxiety and stress after talking in public, the one most of your paintings were about. He was the one who knew all your birthmarks and called them pretty.

So yes, a lot happened.

“Well…Nothing much really.” You shrugged. “The same as always, you know? Except that I graduated, and now I have a small art school.”

He smiled. He knew how much you’ve always wanted to have your own art school. Seeing you making your dreams come true made his heart happy.

“That’s amazing. I’m proud of you, yn.” His words made you travel back in time, all the feelings you once had for him were coming back all at once making it feel overwhelming. 

“Thank you, Beomgyu.” You smiled. “So how was Japan?” 

“It was great, I met a lot of people, and I had a lot of fun.” He said. “But… you know, I kinda missed it here. Yeah, I had a lot of fun and I don’t regret leaving, but I couldn’t help but feel that I left a part of me back here. I guess I was just homesick all the time.”

A part of you wanted him to say that it was you who he missed. You wanted him to tell you how much he missed you and that he couldn’t stop thinking of you all the time. But that was just selfish.

“I see,” You started, what were you going to say? Can you tell him how much you missed him? Would he say it back? “I’m glad you had fun.”

If he knew how much you missed him, he’d run away.

After dinner and a nice talk, he offered to walk you back home.

“You still live here, huh?” He said once you reached your apartment. The apartment Beomgyu used to spend most of his nights at.

“Yeah, I’m still saving some money.” You explained, looking up to your apartment, which in reality was a small room above a Chinese restaurant. 

Standing out here with Beomgyu made you remember the first time you entered together to your new home. Hand in hand walking through the small apartment as you showed him around. “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, I’m staying with Soobin. He told me I could stay for a while.” Soobin was your friend back in high school, you remembered him as a soft person, always there to help others. Beomgyu noticed your slight shiver from the cold weather. “You should probably go in, I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Oh right…” You fixed your scarf around your neck. A soft grasp on your shoulder made you turn around. 

“Is he bothering you, yn?” Jay, your roommate had just arrived from work when he saw you and Beomgyu.

You could see from the corner of your eye how Beomgyu’s expression changed and rolled his eyes.

“Who is he, yn?” Beomgyu said.

“Oh, Beomgyu, this is Jay, he’s my roommate.” You explained. Jay’s hand was still protectively on your shoulder.

“And you are?” Jay asked with a cold tone.

"Beomgyu," he said, sparing only a glance toward Jay. "Old friend of yn's from high school.” His cold tone made you uncomfortable.

“Ah, so you’re that Beomgyu.” Jay placed his arm around your shoulder, making Beomgyu tighten his jaw.

Of course, he knew Beomgyu. Jay was always there to comfort you when you missed him a little too much. 

“Do you mind? I was talking to her.” Beomgyu said, matching Jay’s cold tone. “You can leave now.”

The uncomfortable tension between the two made you nervous. They didn’t know each other and it looked like they were long-time enemies.

“Jay, it’s okay, I'll go inside in a minute.” Jay sighed and nodded.

“Yeah okay, I’ll wait for you inside.” He gave you a soft smile, but completely changed his expression when he took a last glance at Beomgyu.

"Didn’t know you had a guard dog, huh?" Beomgyu remarked once Jay walked away.

You tried to diffuse the situation, “Jay's just looking out for me, you know. We've been through a lot together.”

Beomgyu hummed. “Yeah, I guess.” He was slightly irritated by your last words. Been through a lot? together? He’s known you since high school, he knows you better than anyone. “Anyway, I have to go now.”

You nodded. “Okay.” Those words made you remember when he left for Japan. That same nostalgic feeling from earlier returned. And he felt it too. Saying goodbye again, even if he knew he wasn't leaving anywhere far, still hurt. And it brought all those memories and feelings of longing back.

He smiled and took a step closer to you pulling you in for a hug. You were pretty sure you were going to start crying if he hadn’t released you just after 3 seconds.“I’ll see you later, pretty.” He whispered.

You entered your apartment and found Jay making some dinner in the kitchen.

"Hey, everything alright?" Jay asked, glancing at you with concern.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just... unexpected meeting at the museum. Beomgyu showed up. I didn’t know he would be back today, so he wanted to catch up after the exhibit."

"Catching up, huh? Seemed like more than that." Jay said without looking at you.

“We just talked, that’s all.” You walked towards him and leaned your back on the counter next to him.

“He looked like your boyfriend. Maybe he forgot that you’re just friends.” He looked rather annoyed by Beomgyu. 

You sighed, feeling the weight of Jay's concern and annoyance. "Jay, it's not like that. You know how it went with Beomgyu. We have history, and he just showed up out of the blue."

Jay turned to face you. "I just don't want to see you getting hurt, yn. Not again."

“Thank you, Jay” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

You met Jay a year ago when you stumbled into him while walking to your apartment. He was an exchange student in your last year of college, and he was looking for a roommate. You immediately became close, due to your shared passion for art, and he became your roommate. Eventually, when you graduated, you opened an art school in a small rented house. Jay offered you his help and became an art teacher next to you.

He wrapped an arm around you, providing a comforting embrace. "I just want you to be happy, yn. You deserve that."

A soft smile painted your lips. “Thank you for helping me be happy.”

-

Lua's note: first chapter!!

[deadendtracks]

with the exception of weird medieval christian stuff, I used to be uninterested in 'old master' art (or anything prior to the 1800s/Manet/Cezanne) but I realized the other day it was because I really hadn't seen much of it in person, unlike more contemporary art. I still am not super into some genres of it but man, there really is something about standing in front of a Rembrandt! They're much more interesting in person than they are in reproduction, which is generally true of most art. Still!

i'm not really a fan of 'art has degenerated in the modern era' but there is something to be said for lost techniques. when I was doing my BFA all of my professors were of the abstract expressionism generation (or slightly later) and idk, they just weren't into teaching *any* technique at all. or really teaching anything, tbh. And i don't think i'd want to paint like an old master necessarily but there's something to be said for learning *something* about how paint works and how painting works so you don't flail around getting really frustrated that everything turns to mud if you don't handle things right.

The point is to learn the technique/rules and then do what you want after that. Maybe it was just my school but I do feel like I would have had a better experience if any of my professors outside of printmaking, where they *have* to teach you some technique, would have taught literally anything about how to paint.

[iirulancorrino]

Movies that attempt something different, that recognize that less can indeed be more, are thus easily taken to task. “It’s so subjective!” and “It omits a crucial P.O.V.!” are assumed to be substantive criticisms rather than essentially value-neutral statements. We are sometimes told, in matters of art and storytelling, that depiction is not endorsement; we are not reminded nearly as often that omission is not erasure. But because viewers of course cannot be trusted to know any history or muster any empathy on their own — and if anything unites those who criticize “Oppenheimer” on representational grounds, it’s their reflexive assumption of the audience’s stupidity — anything that isn’t explicitly shown onscreen is denigrated as a dodge or an oversight, rather than a carefully considered decision. A film like “Oppenheimer” offers a welcome challenge to these assumptions. Like nearly all Nolan’s movies, from “Memento” to “Dunkirk,” it’s a crafty exercise in radical subjectivity and narrative misdirection, in which the most significant subjects — lost memories, lost time, lost loves — often are invisible and all the more powerful for it. We can certainly imagine a version of “Oppenheimer” that tossed in a few startling but desultory minutes of Japanese destruction footage. Such a version might have flirted with kitsch, but it might well have satisfied the representational completists in the audience. It also would have reduced Hiroshima and Nagasaki to a piddling afterthought; Nolan treats them instead as a profound absence, an indictment by silence. That’s true even in one of the movie’s most powerful and contested sequences. Not long after news of Hiroshima’s destruction arrives, Oppenheimer gives a would-be-triumphant speech to a euphoric Los Alamos crowd, only for his words to turn to dust in his mouth. For a moment, Nolan abandons realism altogether — but not, crucially, Oppenheimer’s perspective — to embrace a hallucinatory horror-movie expressionism. A piercing scream erupts in the crowd; a woman’s face crumples and flutters, like a paper mask about to disintegrate. The crowd is there and then suddenly, with much sonic rumbling, image blurring and an obliterating flash of white light, it is not. For “Oppenheimer’s” detractors, this sequence constitutes its most grievous act of erasure: Even in the movie’s one evocation of nuclear disaster, the true victims have been obscured and whitewashed. The absence of Japanese faces and bodies in these visions is indeed striking. It’s also consistent with Nolan’s strict representational parameters, and it produces a tension, even a contradiction, that the movie wants us to recognize and wrestle with. Is Oppenheimer trying (and failing) to imagine the hundreds of thousands of Japanese civilians murdered by the weapon he devised? Or is he envisioning some hypothetical doomsday scenario still to come? I think the answer is a blur of both, and also something more: In this moment, one of the movie’s most abstract, Nolan advances a longer view of his protagonist’s history and his future. Oppenheimer’s blindness to Japanese victims and survivors foreshadows his own stubborn inability to confront the consequences of his actions in years to come. He will speak out against nuclear weaponry, but he will never apologize for the atomic bombings of Japan — not even when he visits Tokyo and Osaka in 1960 and is questioned by a reporter about his perspective now. “I do not think coming to Japan changed my sense of anguish about my part in this whole piece of history,” he will respond. “Nor has it fully made me regret my responsibility for the technical success of the enterprise.” Talk about compartmentalization. That episode, by the way, doesn’t find its way into “Oppenheimer,” which knows better than to offer itself up as the last word on anything. To the end, Nolan trusts us to seek out and think about history for ourselves. If we elect not to, that’s on us.