symbolism is capital

Key to the various ways Lang presented his designs was an evident distraction from commercial elements, which led to an accumulation of symbolic capital to his label. This makes Lang part of a long line of fashion designers who were – and are – involved in sponsorship of the arts and engage with art through their marketing and retail channels … Lang kept the art world close by with various creative collaborations with stylists, photographers, architects, and contemporary artists, such as Louise Bourgeois and Jenny Holzer. The label’s New York flagship store functioned as the built embodiment of this minimalist aesthetic, lined with LED installations by Holzer and sculpture by Bourgeois, forming a crucial part of the architecture … As a branding strategy, this enables a luxury brand to construct an artistic identity that contributes to an obfuscation of commercial operations. Although the stories about his New York shop have taken on mythical proportions, when it is placed into context it was not in fact a rarity as the minimalist spaces of contemporary art galleries had a major influence on store design during that period. Rem Koolhaas argued that minimalism even became ‘the “single signifier” of luxury, aimed at minimising “the shame of consumption”’.

“Helmut Lang: From Fashion to Art and Back Again” by Elisa De Wyngaert

How Liberalism Infects Movement Building

It never fails. Every time there is critical resistance, an uprising and continued unrest people get dragged back to compliance (with permits) under the rhetoric of being peaceful or nonviolent. The movement gets dragged out of the street to sit attentively at the feet of the oppressors with speakers that tell us change will come if we are calm (and peaceful).  Nevermind the normalized police escort, or the “security team”. We are just following the rules, nothing to see here.

Rhetoric about resistance and direct action becomes meaningless, lost in the symbolism of marching for civic change, not structure change. Movement managers try to make the movement mainstream-popular, inviting celebrities and business leaders to come forward, while at the same time pushing out radical elements that released pressure valves to begin with. If not directly, through terrible tactical choices that alienate people (like working with the police who are critically engaged in counter insurgency and developing profiles on agitators to undermine the movement).

Never mind, that working with the city and police legitimizes those avenues, while making it easier for the police to knowingly divide and attack groups that take nonpermitted action or respond to their conditions without the permission of the state. Is this what solidarity looks like?

Instead of hearing about what groups are doing to sustain themselves during these uprisings, we hear more and more about demands. Police reforms that usually come with dangerous baggage, more technology and funding for the police. But the movement is so pressured by popular media and civic leaders to clarify its goals, policy change becomes a priority before much needed discussions can happen. Before policy change can be challenged not as a goal, but maybe a tactic to gain concessions in a larger fight to abolish the infrastructure that makes racial oppression profitable. 

But once the movement is focused on policy change, containment is practically complete.  And the agitators who were able to explore what it means to act autonomously for liberation, who were harassed and attacked by the police, are cast aside as unreasonable. Ungovernable.

Unity becomes language to gather behind and solidarity is reserved for those who will declare their nonviolence or tolerance for police collaboration. Never mind that nonviolence never actually was not violent- it just tolerates violence in the hopes of receiving change. It accepts violence as a means of determining justice- because if someone is constantly violated don’t they deserve to be saved? 

The cops are killing people, but pacifism will kill the movement every time. We say “first do no harm” but liberalism does harm to the movement every time. People pull permits in the name of pacifism, but invite the police. How does this make sense?

What is liberalism? There are many ways people might define or apply it. But for now i’ll start with, peace for the sake of appearing peaceful regardless of whether the conditions are peaceful or not. Appealing to and supporting state violence (the government) to restore “peace” whether the conditions are peaceful or not. Working with the enemy to minimize the affects of oppression, while never supporting those looking to prevent or abolish it.

Redirecting the outrage and energy of people away from their own communities and into organizations that work with and support the state (and it’s violence). Taking real anger and pain, and neutralizing it so that it does not actually threaten the economic and social conditions that produced it. Believing that the state is the only way we will be free. Controlling how other actors behave so that the state will make you free. And finally, using peace as a reason to dismiss and silence people seeking critical movement building dialogue to prevent the co-optation of the movement. Demanding peace without first acknowledging the conflict is dismissive and heartbreaking. Same with #notallcops rhetoric.

The popular media finds it much easier to latch onto movement building for reform because the hierarchical political structure wants people to resign power over to representatives and allow those representatives to determine clear goals. And just like that the movement becomes less about supporting action and solidarity and more about appealing to the dominant white (and liberal) gaze for approval

But what if the goals aren’t clear? What if supporting black rage and insurrection means that all of it will have to fall? Especially the privileges and comforts gained by whites and non-black POC under the capitalist system built on genocide and slavery. The economy of wagery and servitude that makes (black) people poor and deprives them of resources. The system of governance and gender violence that pits (black) community against each other based on sexuality, gender and patriarchy power. The lack of empowerment and shared decision making.  The lack of access to resources for those who are disabled by society. The political system itself, who carries on war after war here and abroad without the consent of the governed. The way problems are handled, policed and result in mass imprisonment and violence for poor, brown and black communities of color. Yes, all of it must fall.

It’s not simple. But to build this movement we cannot oversimplify it. We cannot ignore that non-black and white people benefit from seeing this movement silenced or neutralized. And we can’t pretend that it doesn’t make whites uncomfortable to think about a black revolution. This might be a large reason why people in the movement fall back on learned liberalism. Because people, particularly people of color, have been taught that to assimilate in Amerikan culture means to behave, which has become synonymous with being “reasonable” or deferring to white models of power. But this is not reasonable, co-optation will fail and white models of power must fall.

La poésie de Stéphane Mallarmé (écoutant des fleurs). 1892. crayon sur papier. S.b.g.: FK (Fernand Khnopff) (Belge)

Rêve Antique - par Stéphane Mallarmé:

Elle est dans l'atrium la blonde Lycoris 
Sous un flot parfumé mollement renversée. 
Comme un saule jauni s'épand sous la rosée, 
Ses cheveux sur son sein pleuvent longs et fleuris.

Dans les roseaux, vis-tu, sur un fleuve bleuâtre, 
Le soir, glisser le front de la pâle Phoebé ? 
- Elle dort dans son bain et sa gorge d'albâtre, 
Comme la lune, argente un flot du ciel tombé.

Son doigt qui sur l'eau calme effeuillait une rose 
Comme une urne odorante offre un calice vert : 
Descends, ô brune Hébé ! verse de ta main rose 
Ce vin qui fait qu'un coeur brûle, à tout coeur ouvert.

Elle est dans l'atrium la blonde Lycoris
Sous un flot parfumé mollement renversée :
Comme ton arc d'argent, Diane aux forêts lancée, 
Se détend son beau corps sous ses amants choisis.

“Teocalli Mexicana.”

This is an image inspired by the Teocalli, the throne of Moctecuzoma, carved in stone and today housed in the Anthropologymuseum of Mexico City. At the center appears an eagle seated upon a cactus, the sacred symbol of Tenochtitlan, capital of the Mexica empire. The cactus emerges from the heart of Copil, an ancient magician, which itself is within the body of the earth. This is an image of modern Mexico; as such, this is an image of the modern state, for the eagle on the cactus is today depicted on the flag of Mexico. Thus, below appear the members of the modern state; men and women who are Native American, white, and black, all of whom bend over and sustain the state upon their backs. 

Having a discussion on twitter about the lack of a symbol for autism and the problems with autistic people using the neurodivergent symbol (rainbow infinity sign) to mean autistic. (Which erases other neurodivergencies, and we dont want to do that) My creative ass immediately started thinking about the issues that arise re:every autistic agreeing on something, i.e. a symbol for autism, and I came up with this.

(image description: 1 capital and 1 lower case letter A, made entirely of multicolored dots, followed by the text “is for autistic”)

I’m only talking about the letters being the symbol, either capital or lowercase (or both). The multicolored dots are to symbolize how different we each are from one another, but fitting into this “letter” is what unites us all. Please give me feed back

As the first broadcasting architecture, Rockefeller Center serves as a symbol of modernity and capitalism. Radio and television transmissions reach all corners of the globe, bringing about The Grand Illusion. Rockefeller Center disseminates prescribed expectancies to the world, embodying a dreamscape where tangibility and reality become lost at the scale of the individual.
Symbolism is capital: A new blog

I finally got around to starting my pet project: a tumblr that is solely focused on Belgian Symbolism, with a bit of French symbolism thrown in for good measure. When I was in my senior year at Penn State, I took a great seminar on La Belle Époque taught by Prof. Willa Silverman. It was there that I got to know my way around the art of that era and especially Fernand Khnopff, who is possibly my favorite artist. Now, I’m that person that will bore your ears off at a party, blubbering about Belgian Symbolism and how amazing and influential it still remains. But seriously, I love it: that’s why I won’t shut up about it sometimes. Restraint can be difficult. I think that there’s a lot of people who would profess the same love, if they only knew more about it. I’m pretty sure of this.

The title is meant to be a play on “fuck yeah [subject]!” blogs, only because the art is from a specific time period, I figured the enthusiasm should be contemporary to the art (circa 1870s through 1914.) But, I like that it has the double-entendre that abstract, implicit metaphors can be a currency and have some extrinsic value. In my opinionation, if that were true, t'would be magnificent.

Please take a look, if you’re interested, and, share, if you like it. Also, go ahead and follow me in your RSS reader, Feedly, etc. Chuss!


[ translation ]

ASTRO’s name: Loving all, making harmony with others, and dreaming together. -The shining star expresses the desires & the infinite possibilities that Astro can hope to express with the dreams and hopes of the members.

All dreams with the triangle symbolizes Astro. Astro’s first capital A is a triangle symbolizing the gathering of ALL FANS A has been shaped by the ASTRO. Two triangles are placed on the same line parallel with Astro fans are equal and the two gather a sense that was indicated by the complete ASTRO.

ASTRO = Astro and fans the are stars, and that means the connection without one can fall together, even when you get lost. The stars of heaven are to give directions and Astro is always shining hope for the fans (STAR: Spanish ASTRO). To express the mind is like a symbolic presence

Astro is like feelings of not wanting to study, and is like being with striking and playful friends and feeling the happiness in one ice cream. The maximum deviation is usually the children spend the day-to-day practice of their age spots.

But they are working towards their dreams and sweating as they are specially becoming dreaming with all the love these lights no choice but to me, that contains the desire to become the stars shine together become stars such as their names, getting larger with fans shine will.

Storm the World with Reckless Abandon

Snippet #13

Finnick’s literally going insane.

He thought being a victor had been bad. He thought watching his own tributes die over and over for the last five years was worse. He thought Snow threatening Annie and Mag’s lives to please the Capital crowd as a prostitute was hell on Earth.

He was wrong. So, so wrong.

Ichigo was going to kill him off from stress alone, he was almost positive of that.

He wanted to snort at the thought. Finnick Odair, sex symbol of the Capital and youngest victor to ever win, was going to die from the actions of a seventeen year old kid who didn’t know how to lie to save his life and had a sharper tongue than even Johanna. The camera crew would have quite a story now.

Distantly, he idly wondered if this was karma biting him back in the ass. After all, a fourteen year old who slaughtered a bunch of kids like it was a sports event – and in a twisted way, the games sort of was – and walked out without a scratch on him had to have his luck run out sometime. Though, maybe it just ran out a long time ago and this was just the breaking point, Finnick couldn’t help but think cynically.

“Yo Finnick, where the hell have you been?”

Speak of the devil.

Finnick slanted a side-long look as the teenager strode in the room with such carefree unconcern that it was marveling. Finnick almost envied the kid for being so unworried about his impending possible death. He still was uncertain whether it was out of arrogance that Ichigo thought he would have no trouble staying alive, or ignorance though he doubted the latter. He did show him the films of the previous games during the train ride, and Ichigo had been unreadably quiet when watching, his eyes stormy and face thunderous.

The kid did know how serious the situation was. Which was why it was utterly mindboggling how Ichigo was treating this with such a cavalier attitude.

Ichigo plopped down on the couch across from him and Finnick didn’t even bother asking how the hell the kid managed to find the victory lounge while knowing he was here. The kid had the uncanny ability to find people when he wanted to. An ability that could be useful in the arena. If he took it seriously goddamn it.

Finnick gave a tired grin, feeling the muscles in his legs aching. He hadn’t even bothered to change, knowing the other victors already knew where he had been and didn’t see the point in being decent. There were certain lines you didn’t cross when it came between comrade in arms, and that meant not mentioning or using other people’s weaknesses against them. Besides, Finnick’s armor of good humor and lascivious grins usually putted people off in asking if he was okay. All of them knew better than to ask.

Ichigo sudden presence was a bit jarring. He looked so out of place in the sanctuary, like he didn’t belong in the picture. Finnick didn’t know if Ichigo was going back to wherever he came from if he survived, and fervently hoped that he would escape if he still could. Ichigo was exotically good-looking enough where Snow may be tempted to use him too if killing him off failed. Though for the life of him, Finnick couldn’t imagine Ichigo ever bowing down to another person’s whims. The very thought of it felt wrong to the very bone.

Finnick snapped back to attention when he saw Ichigo raise an expectant eyebrow at him, honey-golden eyes that couldn’t be found anywhere in Panem flickering under the lighting.

“Ah, just had a rough night.” Finnick said, omitting certain truths. Ichigo’s eyes narrowed sharply, as if he could see right through him, but ended up shrugging carelessly instead.

“Well don’t do it again dumbass.” Ichigo grunted, gaze averting itself as if uncomfortable. Finnick couldn’t help the rush of warmth that spread to his toes from the genuine concern Ichigo all but radiated with. Other than Mags and Annie, it’s been a long time since anyone gave a damn about him.

He gave a more heartfelt grin that had a touch of sadness in it. Ichigo was a lot softer than anyone would think, and it worried him how much of a double-edged sword Ichigo’s own kindness would be to himself. He knew better than anyone how much more breakable it made a person.

Why did he always have to end up caring about the compassionate ones? First Annie, and now this outsider who he shouldn’t even have any personal feelings for. Something about them made him be unable to shake them off. And gods know he tried with Annie. He should’ve known since the moment he saw Ichigo grin so openly at the love of his life that he had been doomed from the start.

Despite all that though, he didn’t regret it for one second.

Finnick shook his head at his own melancholy thoughts and brought up a question that’s been bugging him.

“How did you find me?” he asked curiously. Much to Finnick’s bemusement, Ichigo avoided looking at him altogether, face slightly panicked.

“Uh, lucky guess?” he said somewhat weakly. Finnick snorted at his bullshit response.

“Wow, obvious much?” he mocked.

Much to Finnick’s delight, Ichigo went immediately red.

“Shut up.” Ichigo snapped, sounding incredibly mortified. “I’m not that good at lying, okay?”

“So you admit you’re lying?”

If humans were capable of having steam come out of their ears, Ichigo definitely would’ve been the perfect picture of a chugging train, hooting sound effects and all.

Finnick burst out laughing right then and there, throwing his head back and clapping his hands like a child. Ichigo grumbled but notably didn’t stop him from laughing his head off, an exasperated why-do-I-deal-with-you expression on his face. The incredible irony only made Finnick laugh even harder.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.” The kid muttered, the red receding from his face as a disgruntled look took over his features. If Finnick didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Ichigo was sulking.

He gave a last guffaw at the thought and raised a ‘wait-a-moment’ hand to Ichigo to steady himself.

“Sorry, I-” he cleared his throat and was still grinning like a loon. “I just, wow. You are really bad at this.”

“So I’ve been told.” Ichigo grumbled, slumping in his seat and scowling as if remembering an unpleasant memory. Finnick gave him an incredulous look.

“How did you manage to get away from the interrogation?” he asked, fascinated by Ichigo’s very existence. He had no idea there were people capable of being so honest to the point they couldn’t lie to save their life. While the thought was worrying, it was an admiring yet foreign trait to someone like Finnick.

“Well, just to be clear, you caught me off guard, okay? So this was a one-time thing. No. No. Stop laughing damn it. Anyways, so I was brought into this boring white room and the guards didn’t even handcuff me when they did all this. Are they idiots? Is the whole Capital like this? Seriously? Back on track though, so they had me in this white-ass chair and…”

By the time Ichigo was done ranting about the incompetence of the Capital and his so-called interrogation, Finnick has forgotten all about his previously unpleasant night and was in stitches when morning came.

It didn’t strike him until later that Ichigo never answered his question.

Notes: I did not expect myself to update again, but I couldn’t resist. It’s more interactions between Ichigo and Finnick so I hope you enjoy! Please reblog, comment, and message me any time!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10Part 11, Part 12, Part 14

As post-teenager has pointed out, one of the greatest “achievements” of capitalism (by global recognition as a symbol of capitalism, corporate revenue etc) is carbonated sugar water.

Capitalist luxury is just really pathetic. I honestly think that far from communism being asceticism, homogeneity, or shared austerity it actually represents an opportunity to do luxury better than capitalism, and to provide it for everyone. 

I just spent this morning shopping with my family. My sister was trying to buy *the* new *must have* adidas trainers, and the range is literally just 50 identical trainers each of them being a pretty bog standard trainer in a colour. This is the innovative, luxurious status symbol in late capitalism - a mass produced shoe with the selling point that it is a colour. I thought everyone wearing the same shitty generic product was supposed to be the problem with communism. Just disappointing. 

Before people come in with ‘they’re only produced because there’s demand:’

1. I’m sure a highly automated communist economy could produce enough sugar water and pastel coloured shoes for everyone who still wants them.

2. The huge profit margins of coca cola, adidas and others are based on creating demand through ever more psychologically manipulative and extravagant advertising and not from producing attractive use values.

What happened to capitalism as a revolutionary mode of production? I think it has definitely run out of steam now. Time for communism.

Meet the new Joe same as the old Joe

  A lot of people think Joe has returned to “old Joe.” 

I disagree. 

Above we see the final scene of the second season of Halt and Catch Fire. For a moment you see the “old” Joe, Joe’s dark will to power, but then Joe’s features gentle–become heartbreaking for a split second–before settling into a quiet determination.

There’s something in Joe that wasn’t there before. This is brilliant and subtle acting by Lee Pace; in a few seconds he’s moved Joe through the “old" to the new Joe. 

Compare the Joe we saw in Season One Episode One. 

Can you spot the difference? 

So so what is this new thing in Joe that wasn’t there before? Let’s get out our magnifying glass and take a closer look.

There’s a lot of symbolism going on at Stokes Capital. If you don’t remember Stokes Capital is where both Cameron and Joe went to get money for their ventures. 

Both Joe and Cameron stand before these two paintings which present a choice. A wild red spiral to the left; a more sedate spiral + torus(symbol of infinity) in blue to the right.

A choice between Hell and Heaven perhaps? Incidentally Joe seems a lot more aware in this moment than Cameron.

This winding staircase? It’s visual reference to Jacob’s ladder, the ladder between the Earth and Heaven. (I don’t think the use of the name Jacob for the CEO of Westgroup was an accident.)

Finally Stokes Capital logo is an abstraction off of the Celtic Shield knot. This symbol represents a number of things. The four corners of the Earth. The four elements. It also represents the four creator gods in Mesopotamian mythology(of which Joe and Gordon represent Enlil and Enki respectively but that’s a story for another time.) 

All this symbolism? Suggests Stokes Capital is the crossroads or the the gate between Heaven and Hell. 

And this? This is Mr. Douchey McDoucherson. His role in the series is to be a dick to everyone who wants to get money from him. But that’s because he’s the Guardian of the gate between Heaven and Earth and his job is force anyone who wants on the stairway to Heaven(self knowledge) to face their fears and self doubt. (McDoucherson is joined by two representatives of the Mesopotamian council of the Gods. Enlil has certainly been very bad to Ninlil. Or maybe Ninlil has rushed to judgement. Who knows?)

As Mr. Douchey McDoucherson says: “I like to get to know the people I do business with.”  

Sara echoed the Guardian’s role earlier. 

In order to escape Limbo, the first step is to recognize it’s not Heaven. Joe was in Limbo until Cameron in her more positive manifestation as Kali the Goddess rather than Kali the demon shattered the illusion and made him realize he was still on the edge of Hell.

If Limbo is not knowing where you are, then maybe hell is not knowing who you are, allowing your unacknowledged shadow side to control you–either running from it, or running to it.

Heaven is knowing who you are, knowing all your names, including the name of your shadow. 

To get past the Guardian of the Gate, you have to face your shadow self and acknowledge, integrate it, name it.

For Donna, the Guardian at the Gate showed her the fear that she would have to abandon her children to get through the Gate. 

For Cameron, a woman who took on a man’s name, the Guardian made it seem like she would have to BE a man to get through the Gate.

And when Joe came to the Guardian, the Guardian presented him with his greatest fear. Being seen a psychopath. Or being one.  

(McDoucherson: I’ve never seen a real life psychopath before! har har har!)

This is a fear that seems very particular to men, the fear of being seen as a monster; as some dreaded thing lurking on the outside of human warmth.[1]

After the Guardian has thrown his shadow self in his face, a mortally wounded Joe starts to make himself ready for death. This is another element of the mono myth; facing death in the second act. In Joe’s case, he’s going to suicide. 

He’s already been practicing!

And now he’s going to settle his affairs by making sure his effects are in order.

Joe is giving Gordon the PROM chip from the computer they reverse engineered together years ago. Joe kept it as a memento of his and Gordon’s partnership and the time they had together. He says it “always kept him going.”

Giving it away is a clear sign Joe has no intention of going on.

Fortunately for Joe, Gordon realizes something is wrong and comes to his rescue. 

After telling Joe that he’s a good man, although Joe makes it very hard to see that–and adding that somehow Sara made it possible for Gordon to see Joe’s goodness–Gordon gives him the antidote to the Sonaris virus Gordon himself created and Joe allegedly unleashed on Westgroup: The Tabula rasa.

The blank slate that lifts a soul out of Purgatory.

Before leaving Gordon tells Joe to try and make it right with Sara. 

Here we see Joe looking between his wedding ring and the Tabula rasa program. Notice the visual similarity between the ring on Joe’s finger and the centre ring of the floppy disk. There’s no real need to open the floppy, unless you specifically want to see that centre ring.

When Sara put the golden[2] ring on Joe’s finger, it became a symbol of someone seeing Joe as human and not a monster. 

After Joe gives Gordon the PROM(cute pun on the classic courting ritual, taking someone to the prom), Gordon also gives Joe a ring. And also another symbol of someone seeing him as human.

In this moment the Tabla Rasa given to Joe by Gordon is tied with the golden band* given to Joe by Sara. They are symbolically linked and both are now represented by the ring on Joe’s finger.

Sara repeated over and over again to Joe that he needed to move to California and create his own business. The ring and Sara’s final bit of wisdom are all he has left of her.

So when Gordon says “make it right with Sara.” Joe really has only one option.

Joe goes back to the VC(notice he’s still wearing the ring in this scene?) and instead of trying to sell him on a mapping program[3], he uses his newly fearsome reputation to scare the crap out of Mr. McDoucherson and sell him security instead.

Scary people make good bouncers!

Because Joe has realized that he doesn’t live and die by other’s opinions of him, he can finally pass the Guardian of the Gate’s challenge–If Mr. McDoucherson wants a psychopath, then give Mr. McDoucherson what he wants! 

It doesn’t change who Joe is to play the part that people expect. 

In the first season Joe acts like a man being dragged around by his dark side and suffering guilt and regret in the process. In the second season Joe is trying to suppress his dark side, which makes him, well, totally ineffective.

To become Sara’s equal, Joe had to realize that he does not need her to believe in him. She cannot do for him what he needs to do for himself: face his dark side, integrate it and make it work for him instead of against. In that sense she had to abandon him to force him forward. 

So the “something else” you see in Joe now? It’s self-knowledge; people’s opinions don’t change who he is. Not even Sara’s. 

Watch how he touches where his ring once was? The ring that symbolized his bond with both Sara and Gordon?

Joe will build his company[4] and he’ll continue to love both Gordon and Sara[5] even if they don’t love him back. It’s not about being loved but loving. And because he loves, he’s no monster. QED.

“Old” Joe has a name. His name is Joe. 

Or possibly Charles.


[1] Just like the Guardian targeted Donna and Cameron with fears particular to women.

[ 2] I describe the association between Sara and yellow/gold here  . 

[3] Interestingly the original idea Joe tries to pitch–badly–was a souped up version of Gordon’s original idea for Sonaris: mapping the internet. Or IPs rather.

[4] If this scene merely had Joe opening his palm outward to reveal his lack of a ring, I might agree with people who think he’s turned full bastard. But it doesn’t. He’s still touching the place where the ring was. Sara and Gordon are in his heart but he doesn’t need to show to himself or the outside world that he’s loved anymore(or answer inevitable questions about his “wife”.)

[5] Sorry Sara haters! Even if she’s never coming back, she was still right. He needed to make his own company. And now she has a permanent place in Joe’s heart as the person who made Gordon see him as human. 

“La bourrasque” .1897. s.b.d.g. Lucien LÉVY-DHURMER (Français). Pastel à l'huile sur papier.

Ça veut dire, “A gust of wind” en français.

Parce-que l'automne est revenu…

Sarah Bernhardt à la jardinière avec Borzoi. huile sur toile. 25" x 40".Georges Jules Victor Clairin (Français 1843-1919) . Collection privé en vente

En 1861, Clairin entrait l’École des Beaux-Arts à Paris, ou il étudiait avec François Picot et Isidore Pils. Pendant les années 1870s, Clairin jouait un rôle signifiant dans la décoration de l'Opéra de Paris. Il a aussi peinte scènes de nature et portraits de femmes mondaines et du théâtre, comme Sarah Bernhardt, qu'il a représentée dans des différents contextes et rôles.

Venus à la coquille (1889) encre et crayon sur papier. S.b.g.: James Ensor (Belge)

Paru dans l'excellente biographie de Ensor par son contemporain (et aussi un écrivain associé au groupe des XX), Émile Verhaeren. On peut télécharger une copie ici: