dragons vs. lions

hand balancing, part of Dralion by Cirque de Soleil

Take dragons of the east and mix them with lions of the west and the result is Dralion. As part of Cirque de Soleil's touring season, Dralion will be on view across North America for the remainder of 2011. Currently, it is being staged in Victoria and is remarkable.

Cirque, the brand, has set itself the major challenge of living up to its own hype while constantly expanding and developing, and touring, new shows. Thus far it does not seem to disappoint. How can it, really, when its mainstay is the wondrous limits, or lack thereof, of the human body? And it still retains a charming circus-like quality. Take your imagination and go to revel in the live music and amazing acts for which Cirque de Soleil has rightly earned its reputation.

safari disposition

Kruger National Park; photo by melissa berry

Kruger National Park; photo by melissa berry

Kruger National Park; photo by melissa berry

For some a safari requires a lot of patience. Long periods of time may pass without spotting an elephant or a leopard or one of those things one might go to see. In a zen-like moment of realisation I saw that this is often the approach people take to life, waiting for the big stuff and tolerating the rest.

I am grateful to have a safari disposition, which requires less patience but open eyes. In life (as on safari) I am drawn into the setting, the context, the everyday; it never fails to amaze me. When the elephants and leopards of life appear I am ready and eager to appreciate them as well.

modern art in a great epoch

photo by Magdalyn near Saint Germain des Prés

Opinions on modern art are not in short supply, they never have been. They probably never will be. One could question, however, if radical new theories on art and art making will come to the fore. A decade before Charles Baudelaire's pivotal essay, The Painter of Modern Life, emerged, solidifying the author as the champion of modernity, another Parisian (probably many others) had already walked the new boulevards with eyes open.

"In art, and modern art (I say modern art because it seems to me that it undergoes a transformation in each epoch), nature around us is the only domain of the artist, that his epoch, the beautiful things happening there, the diverse characters, the passions, the very beautiful nature around us, the smallest objects which strike our eyes, have great interest.
We are, it seems to me, in a great epoch, we enter onto a path which is truth, nature."

- Henri Fantin-Latour, 15 novembre 1855

prey of a thorn

Bronzino, An Allegory with Cupid and Venus, 1545ish, National Gallery, London

This is the centre of the maze on the placemat at that restaurant where the food is not great but kids stayed entertained. The maze actually is the National Gallery and I am the purple crayon making her way through the spirals and turns until I arrive here, parking myself for a length of time.

It captivates me. Every time I see it another figure seems the most prominent. The colour is pure, the stylistic liberties mesmerising, the sensations strangely modern in spite of its obvious classisms. More than this is the aforementioned allegory itself. It is, to me, a rabbit's warren. Among others, Love, Pleasure and Play engage with Folly, Jest, Oblivion, Jealousy and Despair; together they are all revealed by Father Time. To me it reflects poignantly the multi-faceted nature of human interaction. Nothing is simple. There is always beauty to be found, usually along side a darkness; note even our curly-headed rose-thrower has fallen prey to a thorn in his foot.

fallen

Jim Campbell, still image from Library, 2003, photogravure print with low res LED panel

Time, my nemesis, is in a constant struggle with memory, often my greatest weapon against the former. Though they are, of course, inseparable in their hauntingly seductive tango each strives to obtain my full attention. To focus on one too long will inevitably mean the neglect of the other, and the eventual lamentation that fact.

Tropes of time and memory are old hat in the artistic realms, just think of still-lifes and memento mori. Photography is inextricably tied to these themes and, whether with still or moving images, artists have long experimented with its capabilities. The fourth floor of the Vancouver Art Gallery is currently showcasing three such artists and I was recently arrested by the work of Jim Campbell. It must, as all art, be seen without intervening screens or pages but it is still quite captivating here where an example of cinematic elements of the work can be viewed. The exhibition Walking + Falling: Jim Campbell, Chris Marker, and Eadweard Muybridge will be on display until September 5, 2011.

fearing the summary

quality time with Courbet's Lady with a Parrot at the Metropolitan Museum of Art

I am afraid.

Too much time searching for information, seeking key aspects of something, has caused my mind to function differently than it once did. I have given myself the power to deem what is or is not irrelevant and I skim surfaces with great abandon. Reading makes this painfully apparent. I have forgotten how to love language, read each word, revel in the story as oppose to gleaning a sense of the passage and moving on to the next. The latter strategy is essential in my field but am I able to separate it from life?

Technology, I suppose, exacerbates this problem. Of course, one could never read every word produced online but the speed and convenience of computer-based expeditions seem to be allowing my attention span to grow increasingly short.

What if this spills over into interactions with people? Who am I to suggest what or who is worthy of attention? How dare I 'skim' over a person, only to retain information that directly pertains to me.

I am afraid.

And so a battle plan will be put in place. Reading for the joy of words and imagination, allowing time to pass without morbid fear and more time spent talking with people - be it over a glass of wine or over a retail counter - might save me from such a grim, short-sighted, self-centred fate.

not completely unconscious

at Oak Alley Plantation, near New Orleans, LA

"Even during his long fits of despondency there was no destroying his hopes, for he was never completely unconscious of his genius."

-Émile Zola, L'Oeuvre

visual champagne

The Bath of Psyche, Frederic Leighton, 1890, Tate Britain

Like pieces of a puzzle or the aligning of the stars, everything seems to be preparing for me and my time away next month. This past weekend the Victoria and Albert Museum opened a new exhibition entitled "The Cult of Beauty: The Aesthetic Movement 1860-1900," alternately titled "Visual Champagne: A Showcase of Delight for Melissa Berry."

Aestheticism in its purest forms cannot help but be discussed in terms of the myriad media that were involved, each influencing the other. What better place for such an exhibition? The V&A has the resources to do mixed media like no other venue and will be highlighting paintings, poetry, interior design, jewelry, photography and countless other factors that were associated with the key players of this movement in Britain. Leighton, Whistler, Wilde, Swinburne, Pater... all will be featured. And as for me? I will be a smiling aesthete among aesthetes, a position I will be most happy to assume.

getting around

Salvador, Bahia, Brazil - photo by melissa

"To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation."

- Yann Martel, The Life of Pi

simplicity is decadence

Flowers, Henri Fantin-Latour, 1872, Louvre

Another semester has come to a close. Prior to the start of their final exam several of my keener students peppered me with questions, while drinking their coffees through their straws (a flattering hommage à moi). These questions focused not on art or the coming test but on me, my life, my story.

This is a timely reminder for me of the importance of simplicity. The things I see and do, the places I live and work all seem unimportant when life is examined from the perspective of a moment. A beautiful blossom, a sharp intake of breath, the crash of the sea, eyes meeting... what happened right before it seems superfluous and what may happen next, irrelevant. Obviously, one cannot exist from this vantage point (demonstrated aptly by Huysmans in À Rebours) but it must be adopted on occasion, my personal dosage is daily. In this way, simplicity is decadence.