I like boring things.
A bit of a rant
Now, first of all, I haven’t been updating in so long because I’m quite busy with school. Second of all, I need to make this update because I am absolutely furious and frustrated about this issue. Google has recently deemed Femme Femme Femme as ‘inappropriate’. This blog is a wonderful art blog, celebrating the female form in art. Google saw that many of the works posted are of nude women so it unrighteously slapped this term on it! This blog is unique in its way that it celebrates all sorts of female body shapes in contrary to the the mass of fashion blogs that are posting nothing but gazelle-like, woman with thin stem-like legs and endless limbs. Personally, I am a fan of these women, they’re so unnatural in their presence and amazingly elegant (though not all..) but I also love women who seem to have stepped right out of a Rembrandt.
Rubens – Three Graces
And why shouldn’t I? Why shouldn’t I love their cellulite? Why can’t I be proud of my flabby arms, my stubby legs and my non-existing breasts that are such a big contrast with my full thighs? I feel that Femme Femme Femme is such a wonderful relief compared to our Special K commercials and anti-ageing ads and I feel cheated and personally offended that it has been flagged with inappropriate content! Oi, let’s celebrate the female body here then?
Eduard J. Steichen – In Memoriam
I absolutely love how this photo makes the female body something abstract and how everything here revolves around the composition rather than anything else.
Though quite unrealistic I feel that Cranach really understands the elegance of women.
This sketch by Klimt is actually called ‘fat woman seen in frontal aspect’. Here you can see that woman who are deemed ‘fat’ can also be gorgeous.
Another gorgeous Klimt sketch.
These are the works I think about when I think of a great use of female nude in art.
Thierry De Cordier
What pisses me off mostly about Thierry De Cordier is his ostentatious loneliness. He shouts out his wish for others to be silent, he seeks out an audience to tell that he’d rather be alone. His personality seems so artificial because of this to me and I find it hard to take his art seriously. He is so outgoingly depressed that I nearly feel his suicidal tendencies come upon me. De Cordier also uses images heavenly laden with mythology and meaning. He uses his bilingualism to show that every person is basically split, and his refuse to use one or another language should show us that no one really knows who one is. Now, I don’t disagree with Thierry’s thoughts and images but the layers and layers of “meaning” and his strange attention seeking irritates me. And that makes me sad because I truly appreciate some of his work.
With this he invites his audience to come and sit in this box of loneliness. Truth be told, I’d like to recluse myself in this for some minutes, and I find this a nice representation of a deep-rooted sense of loneliness.
This, Trou Madame, is once again a representation of the aforementioned solitude and he depicts to us a primitive desire to return to our mother’s womb and the Sadness Of Birth. (Yawn, vulvas!)
Here a nice quote is applicable: “De Cordier stages in his writings and images the figure of a walker who dresses to leave, like a snail who wears its house on his back, who travels in a landscape or in his head, to finally end up in a tent, a box, house, or inside one’s own skull and repeatedly relives the Great Sorrow of Birth.” Thierry takes these thoughts and literally makes them or draws them. And it’s gorgeous at times yet…
… some things he does or says make me want to burn his entire oeuvre. But most of all I loathe what some others get out of his work.
Here I can attach a lovely anecdote. In an exposition in ’88 in a small town in Southern France he put the sculpture of this drawing, De Lijdensvanger, next to the church. At night the villagers threw it down a cliff because they felt a repulse of the human body in it, they felt it was unclean. Bart Verschaffel, a Dutch journalist, says ‘Because the villagers know nothing of art they understood precisely the archaic meaning of De Cordier’s work.’
But what might enrages me so much about this pretentiousness and artsy fartsy-ness is that I actually agree and relate to it. And I simply don’t want to be affiliate with such thoughts. It’s sad to realise I’m still confused and averse to modern art.