on the fireplace mantel in someone’s home. This is a visual display of family at its most obvious and created an instantly intimate yet inviting atmosphere. Cox’s welcoming piece characterized the show’s universal theme of family. Walking into the room to the right, were pieces by artists Jacolby Satterwhite, Deborah Willis and Hank Willis Thomas. Immediately to the left were Jacolby Satterwhite’s videos. Although the vintage video, 3D animation, and drawings made for an interesting combination, I did not personally care it the Country Ball 1989-2012 piece. It looked discombobulated and maybe even a little creepy. Continuing on around the around to the right by Deborah Willis and Hank Thomas Willis’s beautifully collaborated and independent pieces. I was happy to get a close look at Deborah Willis’s digital c-print titled Hank Pending. She told a beautiful story at the artist talk about how this piece came to be in …show more content…
In her photos, the viewer gets a sense of the emotion and relationships between daughter, mother and grandmother. The strong black and white photos create feelings of nostalgia sadness. Two pieces were particularly potent. One was titled Grandma Ruby’s Refrigerator. I was immediately sucked into all the tiny little dirty details in the print. In a unprepared or fluffed room, visions of cooking oil, an awkwardly placed doll collection, and an old refrigerator cluttered with family photos; I felt as if I got a true sense of the owner of this raw space. Another noticeable print was titled Grandma.Ruby, JC and Me watching Soap Operas. This print depicts a glimpse of a very regular moment shared by the three family members. Like all of the prints, my eyes bounced around to the strange combination of tiny details around the room such as pill bottles and tacky Christmas decorations. I felt as if I was getting a pass to peak into a personal space I might not ever experience. The photos were all
She brings light to an issue that divided her family from her father, his “obsession” with fixing up the house. She states, "I grew to resent the way my father treated his furniture like children, and his children like furniture" (14). She believes her father was detached, living his life through restoring old furniture and fixing up the family home, leaving little attention for the family that lived there. She was suspicious of her father’s décor saying, “they were lies” (14). This left much to be desired, often leading her to question whether her father even liked having a family. This feeling is expressed when she says, "Sometimes, when things were going well, I think my father actually enjoyed having a family. Or at least, the air of authenticity we lent to his exhibit. A sort of still life with children" (13). He occupied his life with fixing up his home almost as if he was trying to cover up the problems going on inside himself. Bechdel suggests that the antique mirrors decorating the home were meant to distract visitors from his personal shame. She says, "His shame inhabited our house as pervasively and invisibly as the aromatic musk of aging mahogany" (20). She states that this shame stemmed from her father’s closeted sexual preferences. This would later connect them in a very powerful
The room was set up by having paintings on the walls with a sculpture directly in the center. This was the focal point of the room, Soundsuit, by Nick Cave. This piece was rich in color and character and I was immediately drawn to it. When I rounded the corner of the gallery there were many extravagant pieces such as Untitled #8 (2014) by Mickalene Thomas and Woman Under Willow (2014). Both pieces are inspired by Matisse, rich in color, and represent woman. The American gallery does a good job transitioning from one piece to another because each work is similar in some aspects. This gallery was less organized and different mediums were presented all throughout. There was a traditional quilt, Tar Beach 2 (1990) displayed in the same area as mediums such as wooden panels, oil pastel, and the metal hood of a car. This gallery and collection inspired by Matisse displayed many breathtaking works that I enjoyed seeing.
“We didn’t know we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun.” This quote by an unknown author gives us a unique vision of memories; it shows that memories are powerful. The most powerful can be made without recognition. The most powerful are made with excitement. Annie Dillard clearly portrays this idea in “The Chase,” a chapter in her autobiography. She tells the story of her rebellious childhood and one of the most heart-pumping events of her life - a redheaded man giving her a chase. With this, she demonstrates the need for excitement, fearlessness, and recklessness in one’s childhood. In order to convey this idea, Dillard not only employs fierce and vivid description, but she impassionedly transitions from spine-chilling tone to thrilling.
Where are the memories of our pasts held? In scrapbooks full of photographs, or perhaps written on the pages of a locked diary? Picture though, something as simple and ordinary as a closet full of clothes. Think about its contents, where they have been worn, what they have been through, the stories attached to each item. The nameless protagonist of Diane Schoemperlen’s short story Red Plaid Shirt does this as she recalls a snippet of her past life with each article of clothing she picks up. Red plaid shirt, blue sweatshirt, brown cashmere sweater, yellow evening gown, black leather jacket…each item has a tale of its very own, and when combined they reveal the full story of the main character’s life.
She shows the true culture of her family’s life and how they act. Artistically, this frame includes lots of detail and is realistic. Behind the doors and windows is a blank, only shaded area. The conversation between the two sides shows the ignorance of her parents. While the child looks angry and seems to have looked everywhere (with the draws being opened already). This shows that the family does have transparency and doesn’t constantly cover-up the truth.
Although this story is told in the third person, the reader’s eyes are strictly controlled by the meddling, ever-involved grandmother. She is never given a name; she is just a generic grandmother; she could belong to anyone. O’Connor portrays her as simply annoying, a thorn in her son’s side. As the little girl June Star rudely puts it, “She has to go everywhere we go. She wouldn’t stay at home to be queen for a day” (117-118). As June Star demonstrates, the family treats the grandmother with great reproach. Even as she is driving them all crazy with her constant comments and old-fashioned attitude, the reader is made to feel sorry for her. It is this constant stream of confliction that keeps the story boiling, and eventually overflows into the shocking conclusion. Of course the grandmother meant no harm, but who can help but to blame her? O’Connor puts her readers into a fit of rage as “the horrible thought” comes to the grandmother, “that the house she had remembered so vividly was not in Georgia but in Tennessee” (125).
Photographs capture the essence of a moment because the truth shown in an image cannot be questioned. In her novel, The Lovely Bones, Alice Sebold uses the language of rhetoric to liberate Abigail from the façade of being a mother and spouse in a picture taken by her daughter, Susie. On the morning of her eleventh birthday, Susie, awake before the rest of the family, discovers her unwrapped birthday present, an instamatic camera, and finds her mother alone in the backyard. The significance of this scene is that it starts the author’s challenge of the false utopia of suburbia in the novel, particularly, the role of women in it.
DeWitte, Debra J. et al. Gateways To Art. New York City, NY: Thames & Hudson, 2012. Print.
Symbolism is the element that plays the starring role in this production, coyly divulging the clues necessary to illuminate the reality of her psychosis. The physical triggers of said psychosis belong solely to the room she and her husband slept in; now a playroom, it had obviously gone through many other transformations as had this woman, who despised it (nursery, gym, playroom). More importantly, it is the wallpaper that has caught and held her mind's eye.
The point of view and tone for this story helps relate to the theme. The narrative is in third person point of view with limited omniscient. This means that the reader is able to go inside the mind of the grandmother and know what she is thinking and feeling. The only ot...
She then shifts to discussing TV shows that bring family members together such as Sally Jesse Raphael or Oprah. As the mother imagines what it will be like when her daughter comes home, she brings out the imagery of tears and wrapped arms, and since we have all seen these shows, the reader can see the stage set up with four chairs and the daughter waiting for the parents to come out on stage. We can see the look of surprise on the daughter's face as they come out onto the stage. She has not seen her daughter, Dee, for a while and imagines b...
Regretfully, though readers can see how Mama has had a difficult time in being a single mother and raising two daughters, Dee, the oldest daughter, refuses to acknowledge this. For she instead hold the misconception that heritage is simply material or rather artificial and does not lie in ones heart. However, from Mama’s narrations, readers are aware that this cultural tradition does lie within ones heart, especially those of Mama’s and Maggie’s, and that it is the pure foundation over any external definition.
In “The story of an Hour,” Louise Mallard learns from Josephine and Richards that her husband, Brently, has died. She confines herself to the upstairs room. While Josephine and Richards believes that she is upstairs grieving, Louise is actually rather happy that she is finally free from being contained by her husband. Louise looks out the window at a big and beautiful world. She has a completely new view of the world now. The adventitious death of her husband allows her to start thinking about making decisions for herself and seeing things without his opinion. Much like Louise’s situation, the husband constantly contains the narrator of “The Yellow Wallpaper,” to one room. She is enclosed in a large, yellow room because her husband says she is sick. The narrator is physically in need of human interaction. His keeping her inside this room is leading her to become more ill than she already is. Both of these women have been living with completely despondent spirits. As depicted in these two stories, Dorothy Hartman stat...
I slowly opened the front door -- the same old creak echoed its way throughout the old house, announcing my arrival just seconds before I called out, "Grandma!" She appeared around the corner with the normal spring in her steps. Her small but round 5'1" frame scurried up to greet me with a big hug and an exclamation of, "Oh, how good to see you." It was her eighty-fifth birthday today, an amazing feat to me, just part of everyday life to her. The familiar mix of Estee Lauder and old lotion wafted in my direction as she pulled away to "admire how much I've grown." I stopped growing eight years ago, but really, it wasn't worth pointing this fact out. The house, too, smelled the same as it's ever smelled, I imagine, even when my father and his brothers grew up here more than forty years ago -- musty smoke and apple pie blended with the aroma of chocolate chip cookies. The former was my grandfather's contribution, whose habit took him away from us nearly five years ago; the latter, of course, comes from the delectable delights from my grandmother's kitchen. Everything was just as it should be.
Similar snapshots of this one moment will be mirrored throughout different families and times both past, present, and future. There are moments of absurdity that occur in any family. Sitting stacked upon each other on a plush and comfortable couch, my Mother, Sister and I depict such a moment. When gazing at this particular photograph, one feeling overwhelms me: love. Simply stating “love”, however feels over-rated and unspecific. Just saying “love” is akin to comparing a puddle on a sidewalk to the ocean, the depth of the ocean cannot be explored through a mere puddle. My affection for this picture lies in the evident familial bond and caring that is displayed. There is this understanding between