Posts Tagged ‘Harvard’

The Fire of Hephaistos

Wednesday, May 1st, 1996

These ancient bronzes, which have long since lost their golden gleam, are still numi­nous frag­ments of a vanished world. One statue of young man was recently pulled out of a river; his pale sea-green body is scratched and scarred; but he is still a lovely appari­tion, reminding me of some lines from Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”:
“Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea change
Into some­thing rich and strange.”

Read the full article »

Busch-Reisinger Museum

Saturday, September 14th, 1991

A crowded stage, and all the players on it. A king, wearing a crown, stabs himself in the heart. A woman looks at her reflec­tion in a mirror, next to a statue of a Greek god. Modern men and women read the news­paper, talk, flirt, and fight with real knives. MAX BECK­MANN’s The Actors aims to encom­pass all of Art and Life in thick, sure slashes of paint.

Read the full article »

Fragments of Antiquity

Friday, June 21st, 1991

All that we know of Greece has come to us in ruins – armless, head­less, faded, fallen, broken, battered, lost in trans­la­tion. What we have are frag­ments, frag­ments that have lost almost every­thing – except their poetry. But, gener­a­tion after gener­a­tion, that poetry has never lost its thrilling, visionary gleam.

Read the full article »

Images of the Mind

Monday, May 19th, 1986

Tao Chi was a prince who became a wandering Buddhist monk. His “Melan­choly Thoughts on the Hsiao and Hsiang Rivers,” captures the mood of the end of autumn. A lonely fishing hut is half-hidden by a few sparse trees; a flock of wild geese flies over a river. The callig­raphy echoes the flight of the birds and the quiver of the leaves. Without under­standing a word, we can feel the poetry.

Read the full article »

The Sketchbooks of Le Corbusier

Tuesday, December 1st, 1981

LE CORBUSIER created his own myth through the organic gener­a­tion of forms. His genius constantly renewed itself, pulling new phenomena into the orbit of his thought and recre­ating them in the puri­fied, monu­mental yet human forms of his archi­tec­ture.

Read the full article »

Ingres 1780 – 1980

Monday, December 1st, 1980

For a twen­tieth-century audi­ence brought up on abstrac­tion, INGRES’s great­ness, his fasci­na­tion, lies in the abstract qual­i­ties of his line, its rest­less, obses­sive move­ment across the page. Ingres’ line has power, grace, life; it’s bril­liant, dramatic, neurotic, even perverse. He told his students, “Drawing is every­thing; it is all of Art.”

Read the full article »

Gabriele Munter: From Munich to Murnau

Saturday, November 1st, 1980

A woman sits thinking, resting her head on her hand in a room filled with flowers and fruit. The room seems charged with meaning, filled with her extra­or­di­nary pres­ence. For GABRIELE MUNTER, art was not about appear­ances, but about real­i­ties lying behind appear­ances. Abstrac­tion was a way of seeing into the heart of things.

Read the full article »

Claude Le Lorrain

Tuesday, April 1st, 1980

CLAUDE LE LORRAIN depicts the moment just before trans­fig­u­ra­tion — the moment just before women turn into goddesses, or girls turn into swans, or life turns into art. His light is dusk and twilight — the dark­ling light that washes the phys­ical world in unearthly beauty and fills the heart with an intox­i­cating sense of possi­bility.

Read the full article »

Becoming an Art Critic

Thursday, April 13th, 1978

In 1979, an 11th century Persian poem with 50,000 rhyming couplets, illu­mi­nated by tiny paint­ings in exquisite colors made from crushed jewels and insects’ wings, inspired my first story about art. For the next 20 years, I wrote, published, and broad­cast hundreds of Stories about Art in Boston and beyond. This is how it all began.

Read the full article »