Meet James Ensor, because They might.

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It actually wasn't an Art-gasam, so much, as Nick had described it.
An 'Art-gasam' would be my reactions to the Picassos and the Impressionists.
This was more a They Might Be Giants'-Gasam, which is twice as sad and geeky.

It's a curious thing that James Ensor has a song written about him.
He's not too famous, I mean, yes he is. He is famous in Art History circles and in Belgium, but he is not famous like Monet, Picasso, or O'Keefe.
For Example, I told my friend I was writing about him--
me: gimmie a minute, i'm writing about James Ensor.
Shae: who the f*ck is james ensor?
me: Belguins famous painter.
Shae: *blinks* belguins, eh?
Shae: freaking belguins

Anyway, James Ensor is considered to be an innovator who influenced those such as the Surrealists.

Most younger people hear of him, if they hear about him at all, is from the They Might be Giants song about the artist.

I'm not a huge fan of Ensor, myself. This comic is misleading.
I'm a much bigger more rabid fan of the band that sings about him.


(A James Ensor Painting: Christ's Entry into Brussels.)

They Might Be Giants is John Linnell and John Flansburgh, along with their traveling hired band companions, and their first album was released in 1986. They are generally funny, witty, clever, or considered 'quirky' by fans, and have been my favorite band since I was 6.
I got to see them my Senior year of high school at a nearby college, where they rocked my socks off and maybe restored my faith in humanity.
just kidding.
But they were fantastic.
And I'm sure that they would be rather amused at the hoopla a dumb art student caused at the viewing of a James Ensor painting.
All because of Them.
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anyway, more about the art museum.

I already knew I loved the Impressioninsts.
More than as artists but as pioneers.
The rebels of the Salon become the fathers of Modern Art.
...just goes to show, todays avant garde cowboys are on your coffee cup tomorrow.
They opened the world of color and abstraction to the artist that they had never had before.
(By no means am I saying 'classical' art using the classical conventions is less valid or not as wonderful. I believe one might not be able to find something better than one of the madonnas by Raphael. )

But in Chicago....
Utlimeltly i was disapointed.
Perhaps i was looking for some kind of enlightenment from the museum, that going might shed light on myself as an artist.
A kind of art-quasi-religious experience?
Oh, and yes, they are fantastic in person.
The art in the museum is fantastic. They have an excellent collection.
O'keefe, Piccasso, Pissarro, Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec....
but... I wasn't left breathless and fullfilled like I did when I went to the Cincinatti musuem of art. It doesn't make any sense since Chicago has so much more....

In Cincinatti, I saw a Rothko.
My work, being pretty much being retyping what the art history book tells me, I had 'seen' a Rothko before, in books and in slides.
I hated Rothoko. I didn't get it. I found it stupid and easy.
(Above: a good example of Rothko)
But I when I was standing there in front of it, I began to understand why.
Rothkos are just swatches of colors to the eye, and I generally dislike purely nonrepresntaional nonobjective art, but standing there his colors seemed to float on top of each other. I didn't hate it. I didn't dislike it. Not anymore, in fact, I could say it moved me.
Which is utterly shocking.

In Chicago it'd been a long day, and i wasn't with other artists, like I was when I went to Cinccinatti. Could that have been part of it?
What was I looking for?
Someone to rip out my heart?
Mary Cassatt's The Bath may have been able to do it, but sadly, they had that room closed off because of photographers.

Also, unlike Cinccinati, Chicago's museum was rennovating, and i didn't get to see many late 20th century artists. (uhm... yeah that's my favorite era currently...) Perhaps it was the disapointment, but I won't let it discourage me. I just came out of season, i suppose...

I intend to return someday to Chicago's museum. Maybe I shouldn't excecpt to experience something like I did with the Rothoko but I will be looking for it just the same.
Looking for another change in my heart.

haha

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Info on Rothko I found at work:

"The Canvases of Mark Rothko (1903 - 1970) consist of traslucent, soft edged blocks of color that float myseriously on the surfaces of yet other fields of color. Rothko's huge, senuous compositions derive their power from the subtle interaction of rich ocolors, which seem to glow from within; but they are not mere studies in color relationships. Rothko himself insisted that his subject matter was 'tragedy, ecstasy, and doom' states of mind that are bes appreciated by close - 18 inches, advised the artist- contemplation of the luminous origionals, whose subtlety is lost in photographic reproduction. "The people who weep before my pictures are having the same religious experience I had when I painted them, "he contended, " and if you... are moved only by their color relationships, then you miss the point.
Rothko took his own life in 1970."

(from THE HUMANISTIC TRADITION BY GLORIA K. FIERO VOLUME 2)

It all makes a little more sense now, I think.