(no subject)
Once again, a painting made me cry today.
Franz von Stuck, Der Abendstern (The Evening Star), 1912
The JPEG doesn't do it justice, at all. It looks so simple, here, but in person, the pink of the sunset glows, the tenderness of the kiss is so simple, and then - the star, singular in twilight and reinforced by the strength of the impasto used to paint it, virtually cuts into the sense you get of the painting.
I have long been a fan of the Frye's most recognized painting (Stuck's Sin, painted in 1893) -- heck, they use her face as an icon on Twitter. (It's also the icon I'm using, but in the interest of readability I cropped it from its insane gold-painted frame, which must be seen to be believed.) I visit it every once in a while, along with Gabriel Cornelius von Max's Botaniker (The Botanists). But truth be told I haven't been to the Frye as much as I ought. I need to change that.
The Munich Secession exhibition at the Frye ends Sunday, so I decided I'd better go see it. I almost didn't go, mainly because I have a lot of work to do, but I figured it couldn't hurt (this will be funny in a second) to take an hour to go see it. I'm glad I did. And if you're in Seattle, you should too before it goes away.
The funny part I mentioned above is not funny ha-ha, but funny "damn, this sucks" -- after I sat watching the painting for a while, I stood up to go see Nathalie Djurberg's eerie stop-motion animation in the Black Box and realized that my back was out. So much for it not hurting to go to the Frye. I do notice that my back tends to be a little more sensitive right around that certain time of the month, so I need to watch that in the future. I am home now and making some notes about the exhibition, having taken pain pills and muscle relaxants, and am going to try to get some reading done. I just hope I don't get too loopy.
Sigh.
Franz von Stuck, Der Abendstern (The Evening Star), 1912
The JPEG doesn't do it justice, at all. It looks so simple, here, but in person, the pink of the sunset glows, the tenderness of the kiss is so simple, and then - the star, singular in twilight and reinforced by the strength of the impasto used to paint it, virtually cuts into the sense you get of the painting.
I have long been a fan of the Frye's most recognized painting (Stuck's Sin, painted in 1893) -- heck, they use her face as an icon on Twitter. (It's also the icon I'm using, but in the interest of readability I cropped it from its insane gold-painted frame, which must be seen to be believed.) I visit it every once in a while, along with Gabriel Cornelius von Max's Botaniker (The Botanists). But truth be told I haven't been to the Frye as much as I ought. I need to change that.
The Munich Secession exhibition at the Frye ends Sunday, so I decided I'd better go see it. I almost didn't go, mainly because I have a lot of work to do, but I figured it couldn't hurt (this will be funny in a second) to take an hour to go see it. I'm glad I did. And if you're in Seattle, you should too before it goes away.
The funny part I mentioned above is not funny ha-ha, but funny "damn, this sucks" -- after I sat watching the painting for a while, I stood up to go see Nathalie Djurberg's eerie stop-motion animation in the Black Box and realized that my back was out. So much for it not hurting to go to the Frye. I do notice that my back tends to be a little more sensitive right around that certain time of the month, so I need to watch that in the future. I am home now and making some notes about the exhibition, having taken pain pills and muscle relaxants, and am going to try to get some reading done. I just hope I don't get too loopy.
Sigh.