In Which I Stand Atop Mt. Panofsky, Victorious

I exaggerate; the book got significantly better in the last chapter dealing with Durer's work on formulating a theory of art. Interestingly, after spending so much of his life trying to figure out ideal beauty, he finally concluded that there was no such thing as a perfect form, or if there was, only God could see it. Instead, he recommended using a variety of different figures, each of which are beautiful in different ways *insert Mr. Rogers theme song here*

Anyway, after reading this tome we got to spend today in class picking it apart. Even though it's still considered a foundational text, he was still trying to advance a certain narrative, in this case an 'intellectual history' of Durer as an independent genius with strong humanist ties. His goal was to preclude the co-option of Durer as a German nationalist hero (as the Third Reich had done) instead emphasizing his universality and his background in both the northern and southern Renaissances. With this aim in mind, he neglects things like social history, artistic collaboration, workshop practices, the art market, etc., instead focusing on the artist and his humanist sidekick (and possible lover) Pirckheimer to the exclusion of nearly everything else. Panofsky was also one of the first people to really study iconography, and that's how he analyzes all of Durer's work. However, the problem with picking apart a work simply based on the complex meaning of each wildflower and animal is that you wind up missing a lot of other important factors, which is why iconography has been demoted from the once all-important pedestal it was on up to a few decades ago.

Finally, I have to record this charming fellow:


A walrus, that Durer drew while on his trip to the Netherlands in 1521. What freaky-eyed walrus did they have up there? This looks like some kind of H.P. Lovecraft-esque monster. Panofsky simply remarked that the animal's "good natured grumpiness" so amused Durer that he thought of giving it a spot as St. Margaret's dragon in a massive Crucifixion that he never painted. Um, I see no good nature here. Look at that eyebrow. This thing wants blood.

In Which I Avoid Reading Panofsky

I'm only halfway through his book on the life of Durer, which I need to have read by class on Thursday, and the text is no cakewalk. Panofsky certainly wrote well in English, despite German being his first language, but he was writing in the dry, scholarly tone of the first half of the 20th century (1943) that affords only rare poetical flourishes. My favorites: when when talking about tempering the new industry of German woodcuts "...but the act of pruning presupposes the tree..." and when writing of engraving, that Durer learned to "render unto the burin what is the burin's." In addition to the bland style, this book has the same disadvantage as all older art history books--the pictures are all in the back. They're not in a well-defined order, even. It's really distracting and annoying to try to keep track of where you are on page 117 while simultaneously trying to find image 38 and compare it to image 101. Mainly, though, I think I'm grousing because I'm having a harder time connecting with graphic art than I usually do with painting or sculpture. Woodcuts and engravings just don't captivate me immediately, despite all manner of technical proficiency.

In other news, I'm almost finished with the German for reading knowledge book, and a friend of mine laid hands on a photocopy of the holy grail, 'reading german for art historians," which is out of print and can't be found anywhere in the U.S., apparently, except in the office of the woman who proctors the German exam, who won't let anyone look at it. Because apparently it is that damn special. Anyway, it doesn't look particularly useful in terms of actually learning the grammar (first question, first exercise: "Was ist Dadaismus?" "Dadaismus ist nichts." lol), which is probably why it's out of print, but it's got a lot of passages to translate, and they're all on art-- instead of the history of the country's eight thousand uprisings that are the subject of the other book's reading comprehension essays.

Alright, I'm going to throw myself back into the fray--the chapter I'm reading deals with Durer's three most famous engravings, namely, St. Jerome in His Study, Melancholia I, and The Knight, Death, and the Devil.

Three Cheers for a New President

It's hard to believe it's over. Imagine, we'll never have to look at W.'s monkey face behind a podium again! His public appearances will be limited to state funerals, inaugurations, and maybe a profile in Parade magazine about his ranching activities down in Texas. To him I say: good riddance; to Crawford and Dallas, god bless.

I ended up watching most of the ceremony before I left for class today. Luckily, Obama's address ended just minutes before I needed to be out the door to catch the train. I was impressed by Yo-Yo Ma and the other musicians' ability to play their instruments so flawlessly in such cold weather. Aretha Franklin's performance, on the other hand, was rather underwhelming. I tend to dislike popular arrangements of old standards, especially something so iconic as "As Country Tis of Thee." What's wrong with just singing it the way it's always sung, the way people are familiar with? Why must singers wring every last ounce of vibrato from such a classic?

Anyway, Obama's speech was well-crafted, stirring, and intelligent, as we've come to expect. I was particularly impressed by his mention of non-believers together with the major faiths of the U.S., a welcome nod to both atheism and secularism in the middle of a very religion-infused ceremony; his reference to returning science to its rightful place; and finally, his insistence that we need not sacrifice our ideals to the promise of safety. The proof of how far our nation has come from the pre-civil rights era was also moving. Though it was important to hear from those who remember the days when they were second-class citizens, I was the most inspired by what one of the commentators said as they panned over schoolchildren sitting in Independence Hall in Philly watching the first black man take the inaugural oath: for these kids, a black president will always have been a reality. This presidency is truly a game-changer.

I don't want to heroize Obama or expect that he will magically right all that is wrong with this country, but today I was proud of America for having made the better choice.

Back in Philly

I have such a headache! I'm not sure if it's the change in the temperature outside (ten degrees warmer here than in CT) or inside (a whopping fifty-three degrees in our house, vs the balmy 70 of Concord St), but so far aspirin and doses of Diet Coke have not helped. Nor does Thomas' high-pitched meow, which he is currently mournfully sending up the stairs because Phyllis isn't home yet for him to chase around. Speaking of, the wonderful woman had a case of Diet Coke in the fridge for me as a New Year's gift! Super awesome. Meanwhile, in my month-long absence she repainted the kitchen, got a new stove and a fancy Cuisinart machine that bakes, toasts, broils, and basically does everything but your taxes--it looks like a miniature oven, too. I'll bet five bucks we'll never use that thing for anything beyond toasting bread.

I stopped by Paul's office on my way down because I felt guilty that I'd forgotten to get in touch with him about lunch or drinks over break like I'd promised. It amuses me how glad everyone is to see me--I sense that Paul in particular feels some sort of quasi-paternal pride in my scholastic achievements. Heather is engaged to Ema now, and they're planning on getting married in December, which is awesome. Apparently he proposed to her with her whole family present visiting her grandfather in a convalescent home; he started out by telling everyone how much it means to him to be a part of their family, and Heather said that she wasn't even listening, she was scratching off a lotto ticket (and I could hear Sean's voice saying "that'd be you!"). Then he started talking directly to her and she realized what was going on, but said that she didn't freak out until he actually got down on one knee. *cue awww sounds*

In other news, I read in the local paper today that this beautiful, dilapidated mansion on Germantown Ave next to the grocery store was actually designed by the same architect who designed the cupola for the Capitol Building in Washington DC. It was in the news after a group won a court order for the house to be sealed for the winter against the elements after it was left in a shoddy state following a developer's attempts to turn it into luxury condominiums. When he ran out of money, he left the project and left the house unprotected. Apparently this was the first time a court has intervened to ensure the preservation of a historic site. Go court!

Four Years

Today is our four year anniversary! Technically it's our last, too, since our anniversary will be in May next year, not January. We were supposed to go out for dinner to Che Tango, an Italo-Argentinian restaurant in Branford, but much to our dismay, we pulled up to find the place shuttered and the sign gone--we had driven past it as recently as last week, so it must have closed around the new year. We wound up going to Bocca in the center of East Haven instead, which was certainly not as good as Che Tango would have been, although being a Wednesday night we did have the place to ourselves.

Still, today, as with every day, I have to say how extraordinarily lucky I am :-)