Three photographs from Elliott Erwitt's show on 'Cuba' from 1964 and then again in 2015 at the Botanical Gardens in Madrid.
Words, images and documents by or collected by Jessica Schouela
Friday, 7 July 2017
Picasso - Guernica
Here are some images by Picasso I found interesting and unusual at the Guernica exhibit, Reina Sofia, Madrid.
Thursday, 22 June 2017
Feininger's initial response to Moholy-Nagy's Painting Photography Film
‘this essay weights down on my heart! … My self confidence is turning against being merely “tolerated” at an institute which considers panel painting as over and done with’.
- Lyonel Feininger
- Lyonel Feininger
Feininger, Sunset (1930)
Feininger, Bauhaus [Dessau] (1929)
Monday, 12 June 2017
Lyonel Feininger
http://www.harvardartmuseums.org/collections/special-collections/the-bauhaus?custom%5Bperson%5D%5B%5D=255&custom%5Bperson%5D%5B%5D=255&custom%5Bperson%5D%5B%5D=255&custom%5Bperson%5D%5B%5D=255&custom%5Bperson%5D%5B%5D=255&custom%5Bperson%5D%5B%5D=20002&custom%5Bworktype%5D%5B%5D=255&group=The+Bauhaus&sort=objectnumber.exact
Sunday, 11 June 2017
Thursday, 8 June 2017
Two poems for the first time in a while
Water
I check the news
every morning before I shower
in case
they have warned about
contaminated water.
Should the world end,
and they announce it in advance,
I would pray
nonetheless
for clean water, throughout:
back to the basics.
If I dream when I sleep,
it is always, invariably, about
the glacial river at Cathedral Mountain.
I allow my apocalyptic fears to
wash over me,
even though I know better.
Air
To sit on the lodge porch again
overlooking the river
so fresh you could bring your glass to it
and rehydrate your body
in its entirety
with a single sip:
get me out of London.
Carbon monoxide fills me up instead
and I grow aware of molecules
in the air I wish to call my own,
although it clearly
belongs to something much larger.
I imagine the rain tastes of poison,
though I cannot be certain:
I acknowledge my tendency
for amplification
for the production of false atmospherics
emotional in my mind.
I check the news
every morning before I shower
in case
they have warned about
contaminated water.
Should the world end,
and they announce it in advance,
I would pray
nonetheless
for clean water, throughout:
back to the basics.
If I dream when I sleep,
it is always, invariably, about
the glacial river at Cathedral Mountain.
I allow my apocalyptic fears to
wash over me,
even though I know better.
Air
To sit on the lodge porch again
overlooking the river
so fresh you could bring your glass to it
and rehydrate your body
in its entirety
with a single sip:
get me out of London.
Carbon monoxide fills me up instead
and I grow aware of molecules
in the air I wish to call my own,
although it clearly
belongs to something much larger.
I imagine the rain tastes of poison,
though I cannot be certain:
I acknowledge my tendency
for amplification
for the production of false atmospherics
emotional in my mind.
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