Spent much of the afternoon at the Minneapolis Institute of Art. Have long had an inkling, now confirmed, that I’m under appreciative of the kitchenware from the T’ang Dynasty. Same holds for most religious art. Regarding the above Madonna & Child, painted by the Italian Segna di Bonaventura in about 1325, the explanatory note visible at the lower right of my photo (click to fix the orientation) directs attention to how the artist indicates the humanity of the Christ child by having him play with his mother’s fingers—and, I thought, by how his head resembles that of the 40ish alcoholic who lived across the via from Segna.
It’s not a universal rule, but generally my interest rises as we approach current times. The below painting, which by pacing off its width I estimate to be 18 x 15 feet, is sharp and visually striking: you can’t make it out in my photo, but VICEROY is printed with photographic realism on the white paper of the cigarette extending farthest out from the pack. The museum’s explanatory placard in this case reads:
Jesse Trevino
American born, 1946
Mi Vida, 1971-73
Acrylic on drywall, mounted on aluminum
Jesse Trevino was drafted out of art school in 1966 and deployed to Vietnam as an infantryman. A few months later, he was seriously injured while on patrol, and doctors eventually amputated his right arm—the one he had used to paint. He painstakingly created Mi Vida with his left hand, marking his rebirth as an artist. It portrays his postwar life, from his new prosthetic to his daily coffee and pan dulce. Trevino painted Mi Vida in private, on the wall of his bedroom, when he was still struggling with chronic pain and the transition to civilian life. Before his rehabilitation, he had made art for assignments and had not painted from his life. With this ambitious work, he found a new direction for his art, rooted in his experiences and perspective as a Chicano. He went on to become a major public artist in Texas, making large-scale murals and mosaics for civic spaces.
Comments