Showing posts with label photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label photography. Show all posts

Saturday, 9 May 2026

Three million views!

 

A few days ago my blog broke the three million mark - it has received 3206890 views so far. Over the last fifteen years I have enjoyed keeping this diary: recording some of the things I have done, the galleries I have visited, the wonderful art I have looked at, and reminiscences on my travels. It gives me enormous pleasure keeping this personal diary. The fact that people want to read it is an extra bonus. I would like to thank everyone who has read or commented on my blog.


These are the top ten posts:

1. Upside down moon  

I have written a few posts on this phenomenon, as I tend to make a record of the event every time I witness it. I always see it when we are in Greece and it tends to occur in January or February. I am always awed when I see one and immediately go to the terrace to have a closer look. From the comments I have received, from all over the world, many people feel the same, their reactions ranging from fear because they have never seen anything like this before, to amazement. 


This phenomenon occurs when the crescent moon travels straight down the horizon. For a fuller scientific explanation go to the highlighted post in the previous paragraph or here


2.   Gordon Baldwin - Objects for a Landscape, 2  

A comprehensive exhibition of Gordon Baldwin's ceramics. Ken, I and our friends Avril and Mervyn travelled to York to see this exhibition. Just loved it.


Back in 2012, I wrote: 'It is the combination of sculpture with painting that make Baldwin's ceramics so innovative and unique. He broke entirely with the Leach tradition that form was all that mattered and has created ceramic sculptures which he still calls vessels and in so doing has challented what is seen as 'art' and what is seen as 'craft'.


The fundamentals of his art: the relationship between inner and outer space; the economy of the form reminiscent of Cycladic art; the depths of the glazed clay achieved by often using various pigments; the economy of the lines on the surface of the forms which tend to follow the vessel's dips and swells; a preference for organic rather than geometric forms that are rounded rather than angular.

To see more of this post you can go here


3. David Hockney - A bigger picture

I saw this exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts in London, in 2012. This is part of what I wrote about Hockney:



'We see the influence of the Impressionists and Po-Impressionists on Hockney's latest work: not just the unapologetic prettiness of their paintings, or their celebration of the beauty of nature, but also the vivid colours employed the the Fauve painters. The biggest influence however, is Monet, not just because of the immediacy of his technique in working out of doors, but also in his use of serial imagery: returning in different weather conditions and in different times of the day to the same motifs, as well as in the enveloping scale of his late panoramic paintings of the water lilies in the ponds of his home at Givenchy.



But even though Hockney is in dialogue with the French Impressionist and the Fauve paintings, the subject, by contrast, is very English. There has been criticism that some of his most exuberant colours are not to be found under a pale Yorkshire winter sun. This is however in line with the Impressionist colour theory which allowed Monet's haystacks to contain vivid hues of purple and red in order to capture prismatic effects of reflected light.

To see more of this post you can go here


4.  Diego Riviera - Murals for the Museum of Modern Art

We saw this exhibition in 2012 in New York. The post has got the fourth highest views in my blog partly due to the fact that it was used by New York teachers as part of a year 8 scheme of lessons on Mexico and the Mexican Revolution. This gave me great pleasure and for the two years that the scheme was running it was really exciting seeing groups of 30 students logging on to my blog to do their research and homework.



In 2012 I wrote:

'There was no 'Occupy Wall Street' movement when MoMA started planning an exhibition to commemorate the 80th anniversity of its Diego Rivera retrospective. They were also not to know that Occupy Wall Street would be evicted the week that the exhibition opened, and yet what appropriate timing! Today, as then, the gap between the 1% and the 99% is getting bigger and the fat cats are getting fatter.

The first Rivera exhibition at MoMA was their second one-person show (Matisse being the first), just as the horrors of the Great Depression were sinking in. The show consisted of eight  'portable' frescoes. The museum organiser wanted New Yorkers to get a taste of the revolutionary murals that were springing up all over Mexico at the time. Mexico muralism emerged in the 1920s in the wake of a bloody 10-year old revolution that brought a Marxist-led government to power.


Public buildings were adorned with murals that taught socialist ideals and celebrated Mexico's pre-colonial indigenous culture. Rivera's exhibition broke attendance records even with an admission of 35 cents during the Great Depression. People went mad for it and the show outsold Matisse by far.

The power of those frescoes was not just the fact that they were an integral part of the nationalist, radical Mexican revolution but also because they coincided with the establishment of the first workers' state in the Soviet Union and the fact that Rivera aligned himself with Trotsky and opposed Stalinism.



The paradox was that Rivera's social realism (secular, revolutionary responses to church frescoes) was an art for the people which he executed while enjoying the patronage of the most successful bankers of his time. Five of the frescoes were copies of murals that Rivera had made in Mexico: Sugar Cane, Liberation of the Peon, Agrarian Leader Zapata, The Uprising, Indian Warrior. The other three Rivera did during the uproar that followed the opening and were added during the six-month run of the show. The last and most ambitious is Frozen Assets which caused a second even bigger uproar.

To see more of this post you can go here




I saw this exhibition in New York in 2012. This is part of what I wrote about Levine.



'Sherrie Levine, the appropriation artist par excellence, shocked the art world in 1979 with her After Walker Evans photographs. Evans photographed the Burroughs, a family of sharecroppers in the Depression era and his photographs were published in a book that became the quitessential record of the rural American poor. In 1979 Levine re-photographed Evans' photographs and without any manipulation of the images she presented them in an exhibition of her work.

In representing these canonical images of the rural poor - the expropriated, those existing outside the dominant culture, the Others - Levine was calling attention to the original act of appropriation when Evans first took these photographs, as if to illustrate Walter Benjamin's observation that 'photography has succeeded in making even abject poverty, by recording it in a fashionably perfected manner, into an object of enjoyment...' 




Her work is within the tradition of reconstruction, in revealing power structures and ideological imperatives in any given cultural situation, and more specifically, questioning traditional ideas of originality and authorship...




She also challenges our notions of authorship, of the paternal rights assigned to the author by law and because she has appropriated the work of only male artists, she is also seen as a feminist hijacking patriarchal authority. As Craig Owens has stated, 'Levine's disrespect for paternal authority suggests that her activity is less of appropriation and one of expropriation' she expropriates the appropriators'.

To see more of this post you can go here




We saw Woodman's iconic photographs at the Guggenheim in New York in 2012 and I was immediatelyl fascinated and awed by her talent, her vision, her imagination and the immense artistic output of such a short and young life.




This is part of what I wrote:

'This exhibition was a retrospective, 31 after her death by suicide at the age of 21...

Her photographs represent an unusually coherent vision of an artist who had barely reached adulthood. An artist on the verge, neither mature woman nor innocent child. Her art is inward looking, experimental and incomplete.




Her preferred subject was herself from the first time she picked up a camera as a teenager. The fact that her main subject was her own body would logically place her work within the genre of self-portraiture, but she transforms it into a far more complicated and ambiguous undertaking. Not only is she both subject and author in her works, but she also alludes to a representation of self within the pictures, particularly through her use of mirrors and portraits.




'Woodman's self-portraits demonstrate an awareness that the genre is as much concerned with how representation is effected as it is with offering supposedly profound truths about the artist who effects that representation'. (Chris Townsend).

To see more of this post you can go here and here








We saw this exhibition at the John Martin gallery in London in 2014. It was my first introduction to Caple's work and ever since, I have not missed a single exhibition of his at the gallery. John Caple is completely self-taught. His family have farmed and quarried in Mendip in Somerset since the 18th century.

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This is part of what I wrote:

'Firmly embedded in folk tradition, John Caple's paintings are haunting, evocative and have a timeless quality to them. 



This is what Caple has to say about this exhibition:

'The imagination is always woken by thoughts of ancient woodland. Their dark interiors inspire us, enchant us and stir our deepest fears.... It is a source of great wonder and comfort to me that I can walk the same trackways as my family have walked for generations... and feel that deep sense of connection.  And as I search the physical landscape for the stories passed down through my family, I discover an internal landscape, the two are fused together, a natural alchemy of mind and mud. I have increasingly become fascinated by the notion that this 'interior landscape' that we carry within ourselves, and the sense that there is a perceived point of demarcation - the edge of the wood and what happens when we cross that threshold'.

To see more of this post you can go here




We saw this exhibition at the Royal Academy of Arts in London in 2014. It was the first time I had seen Kiefer's work and it blew my mind. Since then I have been fortunate to see lots more exhibitions on Kiefer, both in this country and abroad. He is one of two of my favourite German artists, and definitely on my top ten.




This is part of what I wrote in the post:

'I can't remember the last time I went to an exhibition and did not want to leave. This exhibition is a total experience, one that draws you in.

Kiefer creates contemporary history paintings in the grandest possible fashion. His themes include the Jewish Holocaust, Egyptian mythology, German mhysticism and the poems of Paul Celan: a Holocaust survivor who wrote some of his poems in the concentration camp where he was incarcerated. 




Ash, sand, gold leaf, broken ceramics, diamonds, straw and wood are some of the materials that Kiefer uses. Bark-like layers of pigment and shellac protrude from the canvas like relief sculpture. A lot of Kiefer's paintings are monochromatic with impasto surfaces to which organic matter, including sunflower stalks and bundles of straw as well as metal objects such as books made out of lead are included. He sometimes leaves his paintings out in the wind and the rain, or bathes them in acid in order to achieve their battered, time-worn surfaces.




This is an exhibition which is foremost about memory. Kiefer has resurrected the horrors of the 20th century in a shocking and explicit way and is determined not to allow us to forget. History is at the centre of this exhibition and even though parts of it are very beautiful, there is horror there too. Ash is one of the predominant materials that he has used - ash reminiscent of the hightmare of the Holocaust, not just ash of bricks and mortar but also ash of human flesh. Death ash. You cannot escape it'.

To see more of this post you can go here






We saw this exhibition at the Albertina in Vienna in 2016. This is part of what I wrote in the post:

'This exhibition is exciting, enriching and exhilarating - a complete experience. Memory and history are entagled in the art, a negation of our illusion that we live in the present. Seeing the woodcuts was as overwhelming as was the retrospective at the RA.




Kiefer has been integrating woodcuts into his complex works since the 70s. Each artwork is unique: the individual woodcuts are all printed by hand. Mostly combined with acrylic oil, shellac and - in the most recent works - charcoal, they amalgamate into monumental compositions. The subject matter of the earlier works largely finds its point of departure in Germany, with its history, mythologies and cultural episodes condensed into complex innovative visual statements. From the mid-90s onward, the artist devoted himself to new themes, telling the story of limits that have been overcome, including the limitations imposed on human beings. In the most recent woodcuts, Kiefer revisits his earlier subject of the forest.






To see more of this post you can go here



This is part of what I wrote about Boty in the post.




'I finished Ali Smith's novel Autumn a few weeks ago. I was totally engrossed with this novel that explores what time is, and how we experience it. Pauline Boty, a founding figure in British pop art, recurs through the novel, as a symbol of all those who are 'Ignored. Lost. Rediscovered years later. Then ignored. Lost. Rediscovered again years later. Then ignored. Lost. Rediscovered ad infinitum'.

I knew about Boty's work, but after I finished the novel, I decided to find out more about the artist and her pioneering work. This post is the result of my research.

Like many of the women of Pop, Boty was marginalised, if not excluded from the mainstream of the histories of Pop Art. It is extraordinary that the exhibition of her work at Wolverhampton Art Gallery in 2013, was the first occasion that Boty's work has been presented in a public frunded gallery.




Boty described Pop as a 'nostalgia for now' and used its visual language to give form to the yearnings and pleasures of the female pop 'fan'. A friend recalls how she set out 'to re-establish the kind of woman one could be', and refused to relinquish either her serious intent as an artist or her right to a proactive sexual identity. She was also a political radical and had a prophetic grasp of gender politics. A critique of the workings of mass culture and of gender inequality runs throughout her woik. She brought a gendered awareness to events like the Cuba criss, the Profumo Affair, American race riots and the assassination of J.F. Kennedy.

Like many other Pop artists, Boty explored the way experience is mediated through the pervasive cacophony of mass communications. Again, like many other Pop artists, Boty was concerned with sex, but her interest was not in the pin-ujps, 'sexual for men', but in finding form for a liberated, energised, autonomous female sexuality. This speaks to current concerns about the effects of a pornified culture on women who lose touch with their own feelings and desires, and act out expectations formed in the sea of readily available pornographic imagery.





To see more of this post you can go here





Monday, 27 April 2026

Moco Museum, Barcelona





Moco Museum, Barcelona.







Seen as Barcelona's trendiest Museum, the Moco features contemporary art, street art, immersive installations  and photography. It opened in 2021. This is just a very small selection of what was on offer.




Miranda Makaroff, Belle Jin Shuan, 2023, (hand-made cotton and wool rug)





Keith Haring, Sans Titre, 1982, (red tarp)




Keith Haring, Dog & Snamke Human Large, 1980, (white chalk on black paper)

A confrontation: serpent-headed figures with mouths open and forked tongues face off against barking dogs, which roar back in defiance. This symbol-charged battleground evokes both ancient myths and modern fears: the snakes recall classical iconography, embodying the dual forces of healing and harm, wisdom and danger, while suggesting the unpredictability of life and death. The dogs, recurring figures throughout Haring's compositions, act as agents of protest, barking against authority and political control. 

Here, Haring represents conflict through visual symbols adapted from ancient mythology and the urban language of 1980s street culture, all reinterpreted to reflect the tensions of his own time, from social inequality to the uncertainty of the late Cold War period.

This work is part of Haring's Subway Drawings, executed deep down in the subway tunnels of New York City, drawings made with a single, bold uninterrupted line. These Subway Drawings record the artist's flow and quick way of working. Now, they are considered to be his purest creations. Although these drawings only ever remained in place for two days to two weeks, it was important for Haring to connect with his audience during the morning commute. Advertising space in the metro was limited and always changing. These authentic works have rarely survived, but this one has.




Hayden Kays, Fact, 2021, (acrylic on canvas)



Jeremy and Sian Walking, 2010, (continuous computer animation)




Takashi Murakami, Pink River, (acrylic on canvas)

When Murakami invented the term Superflat in 2001, he launched on of postmodern art's most exciting and refreshing art movements. Influenced by the Post WWII manga and anime craze, Superflat' references both the two-dimensional quality of traditional Japanese painting and the shallow qualities of consumer culture. As much as this piece appears super-flat, the artist lays out a visual explosion where supreme god-like animals rule and feast on wild colour.




Damien Hirst, Politeness, 2021,  (laminated giclee print on aluminium)

This work is part of Hirst's The Virtues series, inspired by the Eight Virtues of Bushido, the ethical code of the samurai based on principles such as justice, mercy and loyalty, among others. Politeness, one of these virtues, is here translated into visual form. 







Robin Kid (a.k.a. The Kid), Destroy me, 2019, (oil and egg tempera on canvas)

Drawing from the world of advertising, the Internet, television and imagery from the past and present, these works question our polarised world of the 21st century and the thin frontier between innocence and corruption confronting today's youth.




Salvador Dali, Marilyn Monroe, 1972, (flexiglass, oil, nylon thread, metal on wood)

Dali reinterprets Marilyn Monroe into a composition of visual distortions, creating a dialogue berween celebrity,  perception, and the materiality of art. In the 1970s, he experimented with new media and sculptural techniques, seeking ways to expand visual possibilities and challenge traditional portraiture.

In this work Dali blends Surrealist language with the formal experimentation that defined his later career. By fracturing Monroe's features, including her  lips and eyes, into a series of flating forms and magnified contours, he reduces her to her most emblematic traits, reflecting society's tendency to focus on surface appearances while overlooking the complexity of the individual. Does this image reveal Monroe herself, or just the projection of her image that the world sees?




Yayoi Kusama, Pumpkin (White), 1992, (screeprint)




Kaws, Watching, 2022, (cast silicon bronze and acrylic polyurethane sign paint)




Kaws, Man's Best Friend Sofa






Friday, 17 April 2026

Don McCullin: Life, Death and Everything in Between - 2


Don McCullin: Life, Death and Everything in Between - part 2




at Gazi, Athens.




This is the second post on this exhibition. You can see the first part here  .  If you don't want to read the introduction again, move down to the first photograph.

47 images from Don McCullin's book, Life, Death and Everything in Between, which document humanity's most poignant moments, from the depths of conflict and despair to glimpses of resilience and beauty.

McCullin is particularly recognised for his war photography and images of urban strife. His career, which began in 1959, has specialised in examining the underside of society, and his photographs have depicted the unemployed, downtrodden and impoverished.

Between 1966 and 1984, he worked as an overseas correspondent for the Sunday Times Magazine, recording ecological and human-made catastrophes such as wars, among them Biafra in 1968, and victims of the African Aids Epidemic. His hard-hatting coverage of the Vietnam War and the Northern Ireland conflict is held in particularly high regard.

In 1982, the British government refused to grant McCullin a press pass to cover the Falklands War, claiming the boat was full. At the time, he believed it was because the Thatcher government felt his images might be too disturbing politically.

He spoke of his approach to entering war zones: 'I have risked my life endless times, and ended up in hospital with all kinds of burns and shell wounds. I have those reptile eyes that see behind and in front of me. I'm constantly trying to stay alive. I'm aware of warfare, of hidden mines'.


Some of the photographs I took are spoiled with too much reflection. I was tempted not to include them, but I so wanted a record of them.




A young child soldier at a First Aid hospital in the last days of the war, (Cambodia, 1975)


looking closer


South Vietnamese capture a Viet Cong suspect. (Mekong Delta, Vietnam, 1965).



A man carries his wife who is dying from cholera, (Bangladesh, 1971)


Contaminated water cooling a cholera victim, (Bangladesh, 1971)




looking closer

A 16-year old boy named Stephen, living with a mental health condition and with tropical sores, close to death, (Biafra, 1968)




A dead North Vietnamese soldier and his belonging, (Hue, Vietnam, 1968)




Young boys boxing near the Caledonian Road, (London, England, 1960)



Homeless man sleeping while standing, (Whitechapel, London, England, 1970)




A flooded field near my home, (Somerset, England, 2021)



Tribal people returning from a market, (Mentawai Islands, 1982-83)



looking closer


Taking gifts to the sea gods, (Bali, Indonesia, 1984)



Early morning delivery of home furnishings, (Kolkata, India, 1997)



Finsbury Park, (London, England, 1960)



The Valley of the Tombs, (Palmyra, Syria, 2007)



The Great Colonnade, (Palmyra, Syria, 2007)