Modifications

As you may notice, I've decided to spruce up my blog a bit with some artwork. It makes for a more fetching appearance, n'est-ce pas? Now, I'm no connaiseuse, and I'm not sure what draws me to these works, but they are some of my favorite paintings, so I thought I would go ahead and tell you a little about them. The nude at the head of the page is Valentin Serov's portrait of Ida Rubinstein, Russian ballerina and international star. Serov is an interesting figure: the son of an influential music critic and composer and his erstwhile student, his early portraits displayed a realism coupled with impressionistic tendencies while his later work took a decidedly modernist turn, as evidenced by this portrait from 1910. I admire Ida a great deal; she has a rare beauty I think: not traditional, but with a certain stoic elegance. I'll show you a photo of her as well:
See what I mean? She actually attracted the attentions of numerous artists over the course of her career, including the American Romaine Brooks, with whom she had an affair and who used her as a model for numerous works. I really like this work of Brooks', La jaquette rouge, also 1910 (a year before she began her relationship with Rubinstein), which I found at Sexuality & Love in the Arts with the following caption:

"I love [this] painting because it is of an 'in between' moment. The 'model' or 'woman' may simply be standing near a dressing screen, waiting a moment before getting dressed or before moving to undress to hold a traditional 'classic' pose. Brooks may have perceived this moment to be as beautiful and memorable as anything that was more commonly posed."

The model's slightly inclined head, her pensive expression, her hands folded behind her back, everything about her pose suggests a complete lack of self-consciousness, a being-lost that belies her nudity, or perhaps renders her more naked. And of course, I love the way the muted browns and tans of model and background set off the brightness of the titular red jacket. Quite lovely all around.

But let me get to the other pictures. In keeping with the balletic theme, the next work is Edgar Degas' Dancers at the Barre, 1888. Pastel, if I'm not mistaken. Anyway, this one has been up for a while, and I just really love the blending of the colors and their overall intensity. I also thought that the warm tones would contrast nicely with the cooler tones of the Rubinstein piece (I've alternated between warm and cool going down the list, with the last picture being a bit of a compromise).

Next one down is van Gogh's Pair of Boots, 1887. If you haven't read Fredric Jameson's essay Postmodernism, or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism, you should get your hands on it. Jameson takes this painting to be a paradigmatic modernist work, and contrasts it with Andy Warhol's paradigmatic postmodern take on footwear, Diamond Dust Shoes.

I'll finish with another Serov. This one is called Girl with Peaches, also from 1887, at the beginning of his career. Simply put, I adore this painting. The way the bright light slants through the windows, the little girl's expression, her beautiful hair, the plate hanging on the wall, the peach clutched in her hands. Absolutely gorgeous. If any of you are ever in Moscow, please go see this for me. (I wish I'd had that outfit growing up too!)

Au revoir, longs cheveux!

La mujer sigue diciendo "Bye-bye, long hair" when I tell her I want it cut short, down to three inches on the top and even shorter on the sides, like a boy. I had wanted to shake things up and I had heard that a haircut was the easiest way to implement a radical change in one's life. Now, watching my jet-black locks fall away, I had to question the wisdom of such a choice, on two levels:

1. Is a radical change to one's physical appearance really significant enough to effect any real change to the person, the soul? Naturally, this line of questioning had been provoked by my continued reading of The Unbearable Lightness of Being. This is the question pursued in the second part of the novel, "Body and Soul." I won't bore you with too much metaphysical speculation, but I would briefly argue that the appearance of the body can affect not the subject itself, but the subject qua object. However, barring the possibility of our tapping into Hegel's Absolute anytime soon, subject qua object is really the only way a subject can be perceived by another, and therefore this perception indeed becomes important (in varying degrees) to any self-conscious being.

2. Having accepted the idea that this change may be in some way meaningful, will it effect me negatively or positively? As far as I'm concerned the jury is still out on this one, and I know I can't really expect much help from my lovely readers (I don't really look like Lauren Bacall). But in case any of you are wondering what kind of face to attach to my voice, I thought I might describe myself in brief. As I mentioned, I have black hair, along with light, slightly freckled skin and light blue eyes. I like to think the juxtaposition is striking. High cheekbones, pert nose, small mouth, I would call myself pretty, not beautiful. However, I am on the tall side (5'10") and I think my figure is a bit mannish and not nearly as graceful as I would like (hence my fascination with the stars of Hollywood's Golden Age; who could ever hope to make grace look that easy?) and it is this detail that makes me unsure of my new haircut: I've always aimed for a studied femininity in my look to make up for this lack of star quality, and I worry that my little boycut may be more than I can pull off. After all, I'm no Louise Brooks or Anouk Aimée, or even a mere Natalie Portman, and I don't want people to start mistaking me for a lesbian all the time.

But all this is going through my head and at the same time the locks are falling to the ground. I suppose the nice thing about hair is that if I really hate what I do with it, I can always let it grow back (this places it somewhere between clothes and tattoos in the hierarchy of physical adornments). That's why, aunque la mujer ha dicho "bye-bye," yo creo que mejor, au revoir.