Thursday, June 28, 2012

Glass In The Garden: Chihuly Sculptures (Photo Essay)


Dale Chihuly Bio:

Born in 1941 in Tacoma, Washington, Dale Chihuly was introduced to glass while studying interior design at the University of Washington. After graduating in 1965, Chihuly enrolled in the first glass program in the country, at the University of Wisconsin. He continued his studies at the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD), where he later established the glass program and taught for more than a decade.

In 1968, after receiving a Fulbright Fellowship, he went to work at the Venini glass factory in Venice. There he observed the team approach to blowing glass, which is critical to the way he works today. In 1971, Chihuly cofounded Pilchuck Glass School in Washington State. With this international glass center, Chihuly has led the avant-garde in the development of glass as a fine art.

His work is included in more than 200 hundred museum collections worldwide. He has been the recipient of many awards, including eleven honorary doctorates and two fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts.




Chihuly has created more than a dozen well-known series of works, among them Cylinders and Baskets in the 1970s; Seaforms, Macchia, Venetians, and Persians in the 1980s; Niijima Floats and Chandeliers in the 1990s; and Fiori in the 2000s. He is also celebrated for large architectural installations. In 1986, he was honored with a solo exhibition, Dale Chihuly objets de verre, at the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, Palais du Louvre, in Paris. In 1995, he began Chihuly Over Venice, for which he created sculptures at glass factories in Finland, Ireland, and Mexico, then installed them over the canals and piazzas of Venice.

In 1999, Chihuly mounted a challenging exhibition, Chihuly in the Light of Jerusalem; more than 1 million visitors attended the Tower of David Museum to view his installations. In 2001, the Victoria and Albert Museum in London curated the exhibition Chihuly at the V&A. Chihuly’s lifelong fascination for glasshouses has grown into a series of exhibitions within botanical settings. His Garden Cycle began in 2001 at the Garfield Park Conservatory in Chicago. Chihuly exhibited at the Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew, near London, in 2005. Other major exhibition venues include the de Young Museum in San Francisco, in 2008, and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, in 2011. Chihuly Garden and Glass opened at Seattle Center in 2012.


SunClose The Sun

There, now you know as much about Dale Chihuly as I do. Not that I'm any sort of arts patron but until the Chihuly exhibit came to the Dallas Arboretum I'd never heard his name before. And even though I read a fairly unflattering review of the exhibit, I quite rightly figured I did not have sensitivities to be alarmed about placements and whatnot that the reviewer complained of. I was just going to walk around and see some neat shit.

The Dallas Arboretum is a worthy place to visit in its own right, set on Dallas's one natural treasure: White Rock Lake. Originally an estate it still retains the original house at the garden's peak and the surrounding gardens are a wonderland of exploration. I heard one woman say while touring the exhibit, "This is as good as anything I've seen in Europe."

FloatBoatLake Float Boat and Carnival Boat (White Rock Lake in the background)

Like (very large) Easter eggs, the sculptures are spread around the gardens. A guide book is handed out upon entry but I carried too much crap already to lug that around too (picked one up on my way out, though). So I was on my own to blindly explore the place and be pleasantly surprised by my discoveries. Away we go!

Setps Down

Before I could reach the gardens proper, I saw the first of many brides.

Bride1

Then I got my first hint of what was to come.

IcicleTower1

IcicleTowerPic
The Yellow Icicle Tower

CatTails Cattails

CatTailsClose

To the right of the field was a forested walkway lined with the Blue Marlins and Turquoise Reeds

TurquoiseReedsStream2

Bluemarlins

BluemarlinsClose

Several artists had set up shop to create their own impressions of the sculptures. I thought that was delightful!

Painters2

Like two sentinels guarding an entrance I was beckoned forth to the lower gardens by the estate house.

AsymmetricalTowerEntry

AsymmetricalTowerCloser

PurpleReedsAngled

Hornets Mirrored Hornets

This leads to the iconic boats on the endless edge pool.

FloatBoatPool

BallWater

FloatBoat

Of course, to some this was still just a cool place to run around, with or without any sculptures!

FloatBoatKids

Onward through the gardens.

Courtyard

In the distance, the Dallas Star, looming like a starburst.

DallasStarMom

DallasStar

DallasStarCrop

Hiding nearby we find a friend.

Baby Rabbit

The Neodymiums perhaps were my favorites of all:

NeodymiumFlowers

NeodymiumFlowersFull

NeodymiumFlowersCrop

We come across another stunning bride.

Bride2

Hey, what are all those people taking pictures of??

BridgePhotogs

Ah, the Blue Crystals in the creek.

BlueCrystals

On the hill, a rising Sun

SunFar

SunCrop

Speaking of the sun, I needed a rest from the heat. The estate house was built long before A/C so they had to create their own areas for cooling. This pergola is my favorite.

Pergola

Oh hey, look what's peeking through!

PergolaView

After hiking around for over an hour I was pretty beat. Photography has a certain nervous energy to it that is exhausting. But then I overheard something irresistible: there's a night show where the glass lights up! That I had to see.

My return to the pergola came after a short but intense spring storm moved through.

Storm Sky 3

Pergola Debris

So intense, in fact, it brought golf ball sized hail that smashed my beloved Neodymiums. By the artist's decree, any damaged sculptures are not allowed to be viewed. The Neodymiums were cordoned off as strictly verboten. I thought that was a mistake. If you want to imitate nature, why not go all the way and show nature's damage? Alas, I waited for the sun to set and the glass to glow.

Sun Clouds Crop

Sunset Trees

Sunset Impression

Already we can see the effects of the lowering sun.

Purple crowd

Boats Reflection Moody waters

Crowd Close This shot felt very European to me for some reason, very classical.

Once darkness had fully descended, I went to revisit my friends from the day and even find a few new ones in the night.

Yellow Tower Night

Dancing Reds

Blue Reed Forest

Star Cafe

Star Crop

Rising Sun

Sun Leaves The Sun with leaves in silhouette

Boats Night

Boat 1 Night

Another exhibit on display is the "Small Houses of Great Artists". This struck me as ethereal and magical and so I had to stop by Vincent's famous yellow house.

Van Gogh!

One thing I had missed during the day were the waterfall sculptures at the very end of the gardens.

Water Plaza

Water Reeds Central

Water Reeds Central Flash Freeze framed the water

A short video of the water plaza:



On the way out is the gift shop where you can buy your very own Chihuly sculpture.

Display Price? $7,000! I bought two

The night shoot was incredibly tough with the heat and post storm humidity. My entire body was drenched in sweat and I had to pause a couple of times from dizziness. Still, it was worth the effort to capture such staggering images.

There is still much I have left out. Click here to see the entire shoot. I leave you with a warm night stroll through the blue reeds.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Jenny Mitchell Is Dead. Happy Now?


Jenny was always the Good Girl and I the one with the Bad Attitude. That made not only her not like me but everyone around her not like me seeing how they were the same as she. So it was like there was this force field around her I could never penetrate leaving my desires for her locked up, no one to ever know. Such was my secret torment. God hates teenagers.

But life is never so simple on what feelings you have and if there's a choice in revealing them. Since I couldn't share my love for her I was driven to show my torment instead. It had to be one or the other. But what really drove me crazy was all the holy approval she got for being "such a good girl!" and how the asshole grown-ups would pat her on the head and tell her how great she was for acting how they wanted. Disgusting.

That bouncing brown ponytail drove me crazy mad. I wanted to grab her and kiss her. I let her know by telling her what an idiot she was.

We were at the country club pool and Jenny had written this well-applauded poem of the serenity she felt while under water. Every clap for her dug into me like fish hooks, tearing me apart. She's always so fucking perfect! Now she was wanting to parlay that success into some sort of career by staying under water permanently as her fawning friends grouped around her. I came to her smirking - and excited to be even speaking to her.

"You can't just stay under water like that! What are you, a moron?"

"I don't need that kind of negative attitude!"

What a shocking statement! "Negative attitude! It's frickin' reality!"

"Everyone knows about your bad attitude. Reality is what you make it."


She was in the wrong but still landing body blows on me. It's like we were having two different conversations. Only later did I realize I was threatening her precious praise and approval and I guess she thought in those tender teenage years life was not possible without glowing affection. But as she stood there in that electrifying black bikini she had no idea of the raging approval I had for her!

Watching her make her preparations I realized she was serious about this suicidal folly. By this time her so-called friends were closing in on me with lynching in their eyes. Each one had his or her own agenda and I was violating all of them. They each wanted a piece of the Jenny joy ride having nothing else to cling to in their unformed lives. Welcome to the teenage jungle (Though life never really changes after that).

"You're not serious, are you?" I protested in actual concern. But with my bad attitude was I really someone who could have concern? I'd hate to take a poll on that.

Jenny looked me right in the eye in a fit of defiant passion. God, I wanted her! "I know what your problem is: you're jealous of my poem. Everybody loves my poem but you're just going to have to write your own. I won't let you or anyone else take away the beauty I have created. It's poetry for the ages!"

Again, were we having two different conversations? Yes, I was jealous of her success - success I felt I must equal to have access to her - but was that really the issue at hand? I think not! I had to bluff my way past her accusations.

"Ok, let's say you wrote the greatest poem of all time. How is that even relevant to you being able to breathe under water??"

"Relevancy is in the eye of the beholder."

"No! Not so much! It's an objective fact!"


I kept waiting for the punch line, that she and everyone else was putting me on and this was some elaborate joke. But what I saw was her getting angry - really angry. Hurting me her only goal.

"I've got a date tonight with Tommy Jeffries - "

"You mean after you drown?"

" - I'm tired of just giving him blow jobs. Think I'll go all the way this time."

Well, that arrow hit home. I literally staggered backwards, reeling from the revelation (though later I figured she was just playing me). Her posse saw her rejection of me and pounced on me as a "troublemaker" who failed to show the blind devotion of a true supporter (future Obama voters). Jenny loved their attack, staring me down with a defiant "I'll show you!" look in her eye. Never had I felt like such a loser.

Like a voluntary mafia victim, Jenny tied herself to a concrete block and threw it and her beloved body into the water. I knew it was risky but I had to say something.

"You've got to get her out of there! She'll die!"

"Jenny said you have a bad attitude. We'll believe her over you any day, asshole!"

"You don't get to vote on reality!"

"Like you really care. We saw you hurt her feelings! You sure got a lot of nerve saying anything!"

"Hurt her feelings? That's her own lying that did that!"

"Just shut the fuck up, you bastard! You call Jenny a liar one more time and I'll knock the fucking hell out of you!"

Paralyzed, I watched in frozen horror as the life passed out of Jenny in seeping bubbles, paramedics forced to pull her dead body from the pool. There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth, and - ultimately - finger pointing. At me! Jenny's so-called friends, the ones who made her "feel good" were gesturing towards me as they spoke to the police. Another 21st century witch burning.

Not waiting to put my hands in the fate of hypocrites and lovers of lies, I ran away to join the army, asking them to post me "anywhere overseas." I couldn't make much sense of the situation, I just knew I was riddled with guilt for Jenny's death. Logically speaking I had tried to save her and it was her Judas supporters who sold her out but I couldn't help but feeling responsible. Why? WHY??


Licensed to kill by our unquestioned armed forces, I went on a rampage convinced I was a killer already. Goddam guilt will destroy this world in the end. I just couldn't function and the only time I felt alive was when putting a bullet into a body. I felt that same rush of seductive approval Jenny must have felt as the army blindly praised me for my ill-conceived efforts. Body counts keep people in power (or so they believe), no wonder they thanked me.

I went right to the edge, to the brink of disaster. There was this guy in our unit, he reminded me of Tommy Jeffries and the much envied blow jobs he'd received. Why not kill him too? Isn't death the point of everything? Does it really matter whose it is? Just put another one up on the scoreboard! But right when I had him in my scope I saw a strange thing: Jenny's bouncing ponytail.

I understood my guilt at last. I had hidden my feelings. Seems as preposterous as trying to jump to the moon but perhaps if I had confessed my love for her she'd never have made that defiant decision to drown. At the time, I would never have guessed in a million years that my feelings could have made any difference to her. Suddenly, under the hot desert sun, it became so obvious.

***

I live my life in a bottle now. I go back and forth from that moment of clarity in the desert. Sometimes I think my feelings would never had meant anything to Jenny, she'd only have laughed at me. Other times it seems real as the sun honesty would have saved her - us. Most of the time I just hide in the fog, wondering, doubting and believing in an endless Sisyphean cycle.

I don't want to kill anymore. I don't want those army assholes having a say in my life ever again. What once was praise will turn to equal scorn as I inform my superiors of my true feelings. They will have that same look of threatening hate as Jenny's friends did but this time I'll stand up to them. I'll be on my own, but I won't be lying. I think Jenny would approve.

Monday, June 25, 2012

The Secret In Her Eyes


There's a time when the ice is melting...

...and a time when the ice is melted.

Is this really all there is?

Middle age mediocrity?

Dared nothing, am nothing

A list of cold possessions

Teenage ambitions she remembers well

But tells no one of her empty hell

Children laughing in the street...

...have no idea of her defeat

"Don't out me for my wasted time"

Of dagger thrusts through love's heart

Withdrawals gone from life's bank

Hungover, rowed out to sea

Impractical practicality

Was the impossible possible?

Always right - never in the right

Gilded lies make a pauper's cage

Fingers slip losing grip

Lovely Rita's face bloats blue

Always an answer, never a solution

Refusal of success...

...Proves the lying true

Ignorant praise suffocation

Who's to tell when I have died...

...of the true love I denied?