Slaughtered

cavetocanvas:

Alexander Calder, Romulus and Remus, 1928
From the Guggenheim:

Romulus and Remus represents the mythological founders of Rome being suckled by a protective she-wolf. This scene, often depicted in Western art, is rendered here in a most whimsical manner: both the boys’ genitals and the wolf’s nipples are represented by wooden doorstops. The sculpture’s armature consists of a single wire that is twisted and bent to suggest both volume and void. Romulus and Remus is a drawing executed in space; its calligraphic outline is the equivalent of Calder’s rapid, abbreviated pencil-and-pen sketches of acrobats and animals. Although entertaining and uncomplicated in execution, it explores issues critical to 20th-century sculpture: the interchangeability of space and mass, translucency, and the relation of two- to three-dimensionality. While Calder experimented with other unusual materials, his favorite medium was wire. Its flexibility and capacity to vibrate may have inspired his kinetic sculptures.

Alexander Calder, Romulus and Remus, 1928

From the Guggenheim:

Romulus and Remus represents the mythological founders of Rome being suckled by a protective she-wolf. This scene, often depicted in Western art, is rendered here in a most whimsical manner: both the boys’ genitals and the wolf’s nipples are represented by wooden doorstops. The sculpture’s armature consists of a single wire that is twisted and bent to suggest both volume and void. Romulus and Remus is a drawing executed in space; its calligraphic outline is the equivalent of Calder’s rapid, abbreviated pencil-and-pen sketches of acrobats and animals. Although entertaining and uncomplicated in execution, it explores issues critical to 20th-century sculpture: the interchangeability of space and mass, translucency, and the relation of two- to three-dimensionality. While Calder experimented with other unusual materials, his favorite medium was wire. Its flexibility and capacity to vibrate may have inspired his kinetic sculptures.

Comments (View)

“ Not only have I always had trouble distinguishing between what happened and what merely might have happened, I remain unconvinced that the distinction matters. -Joan Didion

— (via themanrepeller)

(via witanddelight)

Comments (View)

“ The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.

— Aristotle (via boticca)

(via boticca)

Comments (View)

(via ladymoriartyinparis)

Comments (View)

» W. W. Norton: [Ray Hill] came out to his family when he was eighteen. His mother...

wwnorton:

[Ray Hill] came out to his family when he was eighteen. His mother took a long drag from her cigarette and a sip of her coffee and said, “Well, that’s a relief.” “What?” he asked. Late 1950s Houston was not a tolerant time and place for homosexuals, especially in the blue-collar, religiously…

Comments (View)

“ Themes recur again and again in my work. I have been poor and I wanted to document poverty; I had lost a child and I was obsessed with birth; I was interested in politics and I wanted to know how it affected our lives; I am a woman and I wanted to know about women.

— Photojournalist Eve Arnold Dies at 99 (via Huffington Post)

(Source: life)

Comments (View)

Realized I have 300 pages of Stephen King left & decided I just can’t tonight. Robert K. Massie, you are my salvation. (Taken with instagram)

Comments (View)

washingtonpoststyle:

Deal.

Happy New Year, y’all.

someecards.

seriously

Comments (View)

nypl:

It’s New Year’s Eve! It’s also Caturday, so we thought we’d share this undated holiday postcard from our Mid-Manhattan Picture Collection. Happy New Year, and here’s to a 2012 filled with more cat images on NYPL Wire! Thank you all for making Caturday such a success!

Comments (View)

cavetocanvas:

Robert Frank, U.S. 285, New Mexico, 1958

From the Metropolitan Museum of Art:

This photograph belongs to the series Frank made and published in his great book Les Américans (1958)—an unvarnished look at this country as it revealed itself to the Swiss-born photographer on a series of road trips he made in 1955 and 1956, funded by Guggenheim fellowships. The quintessential evocation of life on the road, this image is both dynamic and solemn; the lines of the highway plunging toward the glowing horizon create a sense of movement, while the car of a lone traveler—barely visible at the top of the image—and the vast emptiness of the desolate New Mexico landscape communicate a powerful sense of isolation.

Comments (View)