Martyrs.

Occasionally a movie comes along that throws me off. The most recent film of this ilk is Martyrs, directed by the French Pascal Laugier and released in the US on DVD in 2009. I suppose it's strange to post a blog about a movie I can't really discuss yet, but it's so haunting that I can't let go of it. Perhaps someone will comment on their experience with this movie...or this post will inspire someone else to watch it. What I can say is that I'm glad to see that the horror genre is moving past the Scream era, and also that this is just one of many recent films that are incredibly thought-provoking (though I'd say Martyrs is #1 on that list).

Gotta love museum board members that care about their own interests instead of the care of the museum which they've been entrusted with.

I am all too familiar with museum board member politics. Fortunately, the members whom I've worked with that have gotten involved with museum programming are actually involved with the arts and their exhibits not only followed the museum's mission, but were also very successful.

The Grand Rapids Art Museum's mission statement:

The mission of the Grand Rapids Art Museum is to provide a gathering place where people of all ages and backgrounds can enrich their lives through interaction with authentic works of art of the finest quality in a thought-provoking and creative way. In order to nourish and delight the mind and spirit, the Museum collects, conserves, educates, and interprets.

Their upcoming exhibit opening in November: Diana -- a Celebration.

"The exhibition that has drawn audiences averaging 90,000 to other cities, according to Pamella DeVos, an honorary life trustee of the museum, who made the announcement Monday in the museum.

"Her charm, beauty and easy grace touched many people in her short, complex life," DeVos said.

The Grand Rapids Art Museum, which drew just under 105,000 visitors over 12 months from October 2008 to October 2009, will have the show from before Thanksgiving through Valentine's Day in February 2011.

"We believe it'll attract and inspire thousands of women from all over the state and beyond," DeVos said."

According to the article, the cost of bringing the exhibit to the museum is unknown. Is it ethical to spend so much money to bring a popular culture/historical exhibit instead of raising money for a blockbuster art exhibit? If they were able to raise that kind of money to host a great exhibit, they could surely draw equally large crowds.

I don't know Pamella DeVos's background, but she certainly does not give the impression of knowing her place in supporting an art museum.

Yeah, that's right.

I just watched Save the Last Dance, and I loved it.



And I didn't just watch it; I watched my very own copy that I purchased for $5 at Walmart last week. It's the Special Collector's Edition. What a deal.

Part of me enjoys it because I lived in Chicago and recognize a lot of the locations...but mostly I enjoy sweet teen romances. Not OMFG teen romances; sweet teen romances. He's teaching her how to loosen up and dance hip hop style! He takes her to the ballet! They get all scandalous on the L just to piss off a racist woman! He shows up at her audition despite the cries of "young man!" from the staid Julliard judges!

The only thing that makes my pleasure of this movie guilty is that the heroine needs her boyfriend to look after her. Had he not shown up at that Julliard audition, she wouldn't have finished her routine. She only reluctantly showed up after her father said he'd take her.
I don't want to imply that people shouldn't rely on their significant others for strength. But I do feel a bit ashamed when I realize that I'm swooning over a relationship that is held together solely by the man.
Last night, I watched Hellraiser with the commentary track on; it with was Clive Barker (writer/director), and lead actress Ashley Laurence. Toward the end, they mentioned that the actor who played her boyfriend didn't like the fact that he was just sort of there and not the hero. He's not even just sort of there; he's in the way. Of course, Hellraiser is not a romance film (sadistic, yes; romantic, no), but it's still interesting to hear that a man was uncomfortable playing the part of someone who needs to be taken care of. Hopefully, more female actors these days do, too.

Wigs!

As my friends can attest, I have ADD when it comes to my hair styles and colors. The result is fried, thinning hair. I'm constantly doing Facebook polls on how I should color my hair and I'm never satisfied by others' opinions.

Thus began my interest in wigs.

I started out with this one. I bought it in Hollywood which has lots of wig stores. It was only $50. I had looked at some at that giant costume shop on Milwaukee in Chicago; the woman was willing to discount the price from $150 to $100 on a wig I wasn't really sure I wanted.



I was really pleased with the one I got in Hollywood. I had red hair at the time, and I thought it would quell my desire to dye my hair black. But I loved the way it looked and so I decided to try to grow my hair to match it. But my hair is too thin and fried from all the dying, and it's really difficult to get it to grow as long as I want it to.

I need to retouch my roots, by the way.

I've been wanting to dye it red again, thanks to this photo.


However, I'd have to bleach it, which is badbadbad news. So I decided it was time to get another wig. This time, I ordered from Vogue Wigs. They have a line called "Forever Young" that has really affordable, nicely made, and trendy wigs. So I decided to get this one.

It's a bit lighter than it looks in the photos. It's really nice and long and I love it.

And of course I'm always considering going back to my natural hair color. I thought this curly wig was cute.

I will soon be out of a job (my decision...I need to focus on my thesis), so I might buy one more when I get paid on Friday; I'll be getting quite a bit of moola thanks to overtime working on the museum's exhibits that opened on Sunday. For $35, I may as well do it while I can.

I'm thinking that I'll still keep dying my hair black, but bob it. It'll be easier to keep my hair healthy, as well as make styling easier since I won't have as much hair to deal with. And no more knots!

This picture is 4 1/2 years old. Goodness gracious.

So close...

Since the staff was told yesterday, I feel that I can vocalize that I've quit my job. I'd be a lot sadder about it if I wasn't having a sudden spate of panic attacks.
So now I'm going to have to buckle down and write my thesis, as well as schmooze my ass off at gallery openings. My boss told me that I deserved something better, and I intend to make that happen.

The Bridesmaid.

Last night, I watched Claude Chabrol's 2004 film, La demoiselle d'honneur. I had to watch it again this afternoon...I skipped the middle but I needed to search for clues at the beginning and the end to make sense of it. It's the sort of film that's missing several pieces that would make it more satisfying. However, the small faults and negative spaces here and there kept me online searching for discussions of the film, continuing to think about it until I gave in and watched (most of) it for a second time.

I can relate to Benoît Magimel's character, Philippe; he's living an unfulfilling life and this mysterious and exciting woman comes along, professing her love and opening herself up to him completely...or so she says, until it's too late. I find it interesting that it is Philippe who so desperately reaches out to her; I've seen this sort of situation happen all too often with my female friends, not that any of those relationships ended in murder.

I was recently invited to join a book group. I don't know if I'll be able to read the book in time for the meeting, but I'm excited about it. However, I'd be more excited if I had the organizational skills to start a movie club so I could have people to discuss films like this with. I tried to do it over a year ago, but it just never panned out.

Uplifting.

I know that this is not an uncommon phenomenon, but I feel strange to hate someone that I've never met. I also feel strange that I both feel sorry about a different person's horrible situation, yet also am happy about it. I'm not typically a vindictive or hateful person. I rarely say that I hate someone: I usually dislike or am unhappy with someone. But no, in these cases I hate someone and am satisfied with someone's misfortune.

Happy New Year. Here's to hoping that by the end of it, I'll believe those words.

Random thought.

I adore this photo that was posted on Scout Holiday.



I've been interested in school uniforms and ribbons/medals lately. I almost bought a masonic medal on eBay a couple days ago, but I chickened out...if I'm going to wear something like that, I better have a damn good explanation for it. However, I am perfectly comfortable wearing the horse show ribbon my friend gave me at Halloween; I just haven't figured out what to wear it with.



I don't know where I'm going with this. Old-school uniforms and awards, yay!

The little things.

Poladroid is the best. It's an application that you download which renders your photos so they look like they were taken by Polaroids (as best as one can replicate, of course). Try it, try it!

I felt like taking some pictures of recent procurements around my apartment.




My living room corner mess.








Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison 8-track cassette found at Salvation Army for $0.95. Now I just need a player to listen to it...














Movies rescued from the Dollar Video VHS tape sale rack.









A Christmas diorama purchased at Cracker Jax from their sale room.










Vintage ceramic clock from Mode on Damen south of Lawrence. It works, but the battery died soon after I brought it home. I need to get some Cs.










Mounted horned beetles. I love beetles. I was impressed by Gabe's friend Bridget's display, and these popped up in a search on eBay for something else. I had to.










1940 horse show ribbon: best costume prize from my friend Nicole's Halloween party. It inspired me to bid on this next item one eBay...











...a 1935 horse show ribbon.

Bonne nuit.

A snippet of the new White House Collection.

Obamas Bring Bold Art to the White House
By Judd Tully

An odd feeling.

I've never been interested in sports; I do enjoy attending baseball games on occasion. But I don't care about teams, I don't care about who wins, I don't care about rivalries.

Even though I don't want to go into showjumping (which is different from hunt seat; the jumps are bigger and flashier and you're racing against a clock whereas hunt seat is more concerned with form), I've been watching rounds on youtube. Someone posted the jumpoff from the FEI World Cup in Las Vegas this year. In a showjumping competition, all the people with clear rounds then do a jump off, and whoever has a clear with the fastest time ultimately wins. So I'm watching it and it's intense and the rider has just a few seconds to get over the very last jump in order to beat the time of her predecessor and...the connection slows and the video pauses. And I yelled at the screen! I yelled at the screen. And I understood what those goons in their jerseys and beer coozies feel when they jump up and yell. I mean, of course I knew why, but now I get it. I still think football is stupid, though.

Love.

I saw a clip of an interview with the German filmmaker Rainer Werner Fassbinder on a blog called DC's. I don't know any of the details of this interview. This particular statement is intriguing, because I'm getting to an age in which everyone I know is either getting married or wants to get married, and I'm somewhat ambivalent. I like the idea of two people committing to each other, in sickness and in health, to death do they part. I also like the idea of living with that person. But I don't know yet how marriage fits in with those ideas, at least not in this day and age. At least not for me.

Interviewer: Are you capable of living with another person?
RWF: Uhhh, ummm...
I: To add to that question, you were married once.
RWF: But not in order to live together. We got married because we got along better with each other than we did with other people. Getting married means something different, or it meant something different than it does to other people.

I can feel the awful music being played next door.

I've been sick today, staying home from work and class to sleep. Being sick is boring, but you can't do anything more than get up for water or some other menial task or else you feel as though you may pass out.

Fun!

My horseback riding class is coming to an end, but I've decided that I will continue with lessons. Since the high tomorrow is 54° and it's not yet October, this means acquiring riding gloves, half chaps, and a down vest so that I may continue to ride in the winter. I've been eyeing a knitting book at Tre Kroner's Sweden Shop that is solely dedicated to glove and mitten patterns. I'm hoping that Gabe will get it for me for my birthday next week, but if not, I'll just get it myself and make some fabulously Scandinavian arm warmers for riding.

I'd really like to get back into jumping (hunter). I've been watching youtube videos, reading books and websites, and looking fondly at my second place ribbon from 1994 which I've now taped to my living room wall. It's definitely not something I can afford to do on a competitive level, but it makes me feel good and I look forward to my lessons every week.

Another bad thing about being sick today is that it means I won't be able to go to class on Thursday; I'll have to work.

Gaaah...can't sleep.

My dear friend turned me on to this blog, liebemarlene vintage. I love its author's aesthetic, and it has me wondering if I should cut bangs again.

Recent purchases from Target (on their way!):

Xhilaration Black Saida T-Strap Pump. $19.99.

Xhilaration Black Kalliope Boots. $26.99. (The best knock-off I could find of my beloved Black Fleece calfskin booties.)

I'm overdue for some self-portrait fashion photography, but at this point in my life, I'm so overwhelmed with school and work that I'd rather enjoy my outfits than document them.

I also recently purchased The Fin-de-Siecle Culture of Adolescence by John Neubauer. (I couldn't find an image online, unfortunately.) This book is an excellent study of the representation of adolescents in the arts, and the events that led to adolescents becoming a stage of development and a subject of study. I've checked this book out so many times that I figured I may as well own it.

I think I'll try to join my cat in sleep now.

Please?

Brooks Brothers Black Fleece collection.
Black Calf Button Boot.
$600.

Oh snap!

From André Breton's Manifesto of Surrealism:

If the purely informative style, of which the sentence just quoted is a prime example, is virtually the rule rather than the exception in the novel form, it is because, in all fairness, the author’s ambition is severely circumscribed. The circumstantial, needlessly specific nature of each of their notations leads me to believe that they are perpetrating a joke at my expense. I am spared not even one of the character’s slightest vacillations: will he be fairhaired? what will his name be? will we first meet him during the summer? So many questions resolved once and for all, as chance directs; the only discretionary power left me is to close the book, which I am careful to do somewhere in the vicinity of the first page. And the descriptions! There is nothing to which their vacuity can be compared; they are nothing but so many superimposed images taken from some stock catalogue, which the author utilizes more and more whenever he chooses; he seizes the opportunity to slip me his postcards, he tries to make me agree with him about the clichés:

The small room into which the young man was shown was covered with yellow wallpaper: there were geraniums in the windows, which were covered with muslin curtains; the setting sun cast a harsh light over the entire setting…. There was nothing special about the room. The furniture, of yellow wood, was all very old. A sofa with a tall back turned down, an oval table opposite the sofa, a dressing table and a mirror set against the pierglass, some chairs along the walls, two or three etchings of no value portraying some German girls with birds in their hands – such were the furnishings. (Dostoevski, Crime and Punishment)



I am in no mood to admit that the mind is interested in occupying itself with such matters, even fleetingly. It may be argued that this school-boy description has its place, and that at this juncture of the book the author has his reasons for burdening me. Nevertheless he is wasting his time, for I refuse to go into his room.


(I have to admit that the reason this passage first caught my eye is that an ex who I now greatly despise was in love with Dostoevski. hahahhahaha)

Your daily moment of zen.

I am making flashcards for my comprehensive exam which is in less than two weeks.
I love Grünewald's Isenheim Alterpiece. I'm mad at myself for not making more of an effort to take a train out to Colmar when I was in Paris to see it in person.

Matthias Grünewald, Isenheim Alterpiece (First View), c.1510-15

Glass + Steel.

An art exhibit installation isn't truly finished until one has accrued a significant number of bruises.















It's always worth it, though. Go check out Glass + Steel at Elmhurst Art Museum.

The things you stumble upon...

This was posted a few days ago on a blog I follow, Old Paint, which posts an old painting every day. I love it, and it opens up a whole new avenue of study for my thesis: examples of adolescents in Italian paintings.

Felice Casorati, Girl on a Red Carpet, 1912

It's like one of Balthus's girls set in an Eduoart Vuillard painting.

I'm being crushed under glass and steel.

Funnily, my latest curatorial endeavor makes me appreciate school so much more and I actually miss being a full time grad student working on 15-20 page papers spending all of my free time reading essays. Not that I don't still have museum aspirations, but I think I'll be much better at it after I finish my degree. Also, I will be able and more qualified to do it full time, and thus will not feel like a total fuck up even though I know it's not entirely my fault.
Despite it all, the exhibit looks great and is different than anything EAM's done before, and I'm now more prepared to deal with the next exhibit which I foresee as being similarly taxing. No more doormat curating.

I just got Anthropologie's latest catalogue in the mail and I want every pair of shoes depicted in it. Though I think it's kind of stupid that "For our August edition, we photographed what inspires us...
real people
real places
you"

Then they show people modeling their clothes in Paris, New York, and London.
Yep, that's me.