The Weight of Mountains

I used to believe that there were only two kinds of places one could end up: a place near the sea or a place in the mountains. For years I scoured the dark reaches of my soul trying to discern if I was "of the mountains" or "of the ocean." 

Colorado, USA

Through my adolescence and early twenties, I was convinced that my heart needed the constancy of waves, my feet baptized daily in salt water. I was convinced that I had been born "of the ocean" and this notion was partly responsible for my relocation to a costal town in western Costa Rica at age 18.

There I lived a mere 8 degrees off the invisible line of the equator, about 50 feet from the high tide of the Pacific Ocean. The sun rose every day at 6am and set every afternoon at 6pm; a dry season was mirrored by a wet season. Once in a while, I would wake up to a crimson beach: the red tide, a cycle of blooms in under the water's surface. There was a balance of life there that revolved around the rhythm of the ocean. I had fallen effortlessly into that rhythm and thought I'd never leave.

Guanacaste, Costa Rica

It has been a year since my feet touched seawater and almost ten years since my last trip to Costa Rica. I now live along the foot of a mountain range - in the dry shadow of the green-felted, pine covered Rockies. The mountains have their own rhythm: bears come down the slopes in spring and retreat along with the flower blossoms, with the first crisp wind of winter. The vertical orientation of the landscape draws my eyes upward, towards the deep, open sky.

Since arriving in Colorado, I've had to revisit my decision and ask myself again: of the sea or of the mountains? 

...And then yesterday I saw this documentary poetic masterpiece:

"The Weight of Mountains" is a short documentary on the life cycle of mountains - a thing I'd never considered before. Temujin Doran is the creator of this film and here he has delicately balanced geological data with prose, still images of tall and far-away mountains with close-up shots of tiny movement covering these giants. Please watch full screen.

After watching this, it seemed that there aren't only two places a person can end up. Probably, in fact, there are many, many places you can end up. But that anywhere I find myself, I am either traveling to or emerging from sea or the sky, pushing upwards against rock or sliding gently into dark blue water. 

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Until next time - keep rustling!

The Gray Pilgrim

Today - March 25 - marks the day in which Sauron, the strongest lieutenant of Morgoth, was defeated in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Every year, this day is commemorated by fans and scholars of J.R.R. Tolkien as a day in which to read and reflect on his writing. The Tolkien Society has suggested that, as we read our favorite passages of Tolkien's writing today, we reflect on the theme "Hope."

My reading material for today, a nice cuppa, and my husband's briar pipe

The Gray Pilgrim, in my opinion, represents "Hope" more than any other character in the Tolkien canon. Known to the Valar as Olórin, to the Elves as Mithrandir, and to Men from the North as Gandalf, this gray-clad traveler roamed Middle-earth as its protector and friend. Gandalf was always getting up to something, checking on things, listening. He loved Middle-earth and its inhabitants, and countless times put his own life at stake to battle the threatening darkness of Sauron and his hoards.

The Lord of the Rings Sketchbook by artist Alan Lee, open to the pages on Ganfalf 

Gandalf was equipped with great power, especially in the manipulation of fire, but chose to dress in a cloak the color of ash and display his power only for the mirth of the folk - in the form of fireworks - so that his influence never derived from fear.

Gandalf's qualities were unique among the Istari, the order of wizards from which he came, and he was the only one out of the 5 Istari who stayed true to their original mission. Tolkien writes of the order, and Gandalf's unique role in it, in an essay that first appeared in 1954 and is now part of the compiled works in Unfinished Tales, edited by his son, Christopher Tolkien. Here is a passage from that essay:

"Indeed, of all the Istari, one only remained faithful, and he was the last-comer. For Radagast, the fourth, became enamored of the many beasts and birds that dwelt in Middle-earth, and forsook Elves and Men, and spent his days among the wild creatures. ... And Curunír 'Lân, Saruman the White, fell from his high errand, and becoming proud and impatient and enamored of power sought to have his own will by force, and to oust Sauron; but he was ensnared by that dark spirit, mightier than he.

But the last-comer was named among the Elves Mithrandir, the Grey Pilgrim, for he dwelt in no place, and gathered to himself neither wealth nor followers, but ever went to and fro in the Westlands from Gondor to Angmar, and from Lindon to Lórien, befriending all folk in times of need. Warm and eager was his spirit ... for he was the Enemy of Sauron, opposing the fire that devours and wastes with the fire that kindles, and succors in wanhope and distress; but his joy, and his swift wrath, were veiled in garments grey as ash, so that only those that knew him well glimpsed the flame that was within."

Detail from Alan Lee's painting of Gandalf and Frodo

It was Gandalf's express purpose to provide council and hope to the good folk of Middle-earth, and not only did he do that, he also single handedly set in motion the events that would turn in to The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Gandalf appears on the doorstep of Bilbo Baggins, revealing before anything else that he is funny, and soon begins to fluster the furry-footed Hobbit with wordplay and talk of adventures...

"By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green, and the hobbits were still numerous and prosperous, and Bilbo Baggins was standing at his door after breakfast smoking an enormous long wooden pipe that reached nearly down to his woolly toes (neatly brushed) - Gandalf came by. Gandalf! If you had heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale. Tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion."
...
" -'I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!" [said Bilbo]
  -'Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it to you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you - and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over it.'
  -'Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea - any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good bye!' With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seem rude. Wizards after all are wizards. ... Gandalf in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After a while he stepped up, and with the spike on his staff scratched a queer sign on the hobbit's beautiful green front-door. Then he strode away, just about the time when Bilbo was finishing his second cake and beginning to think that he had escaped adventures very well."

"Gandalf returns to Hobbiton" by John Howe

Gandalf is my favorite Tolkien character - which is saying a lot, as Tolkien made sure his readers had no shortage of wonderful characters from which to chose a favorite. I like Gandalf so much because in spite of the enormous power he wielded as a result of his magic, he chose more often than not to use his wits and wisdom, the everyday "magic" of language.

Gandalf seemed to always understand when to use kind or harsh words; he knew when to remain silent and allow the truth to reveal itself. The hope and power that Gandalf brings to Middle-earth is contained in the everyday magic of language. By studying and respecting and practicing the magic of language, Gandalf helped defeat a looming evil power. Most importantly, he never abandoned Middle-earth, even after his "death." In many ways, Tolkien has done the same, providing generation after generation with a new worlds and languages to combat the encroaching apathy of the mechanized modern world.

I am fascinated by Peter Jackson's film adaptations of Tolkien's most famed novels, in part because they use modern machinery and technology to enter into those worlds and languages in a new way. I adore the films and could think of no finer actor to portray Gandalf than Sir Ian McKellen. The second film installment of The Hobbit was released today to coincide with this special day of commemoration of Tolkien's work. This evening, after reading aloud from the books, my husband and I plan to watch this film (after only having gotten the chance to see it twice while in theaters).

I wish you all a happy Tolkien Reading Day, and hope that the magic of Gandalf's words provides you with some small but significant miracle today...

Waking up early to read from The Silmarillion

I will leave you with one final quote - this time from a letter Tolkien wrote - in which Tolkien himself discusses the way Gandalf gave hope to his friends by sacrificing the hope of his own personal fame or even survival:

"Gandalf alone [among the wizards] passes the tests ... For in his condition it was for him a sacrifice to perish on the Bridge in defense of his companions, less perhaps than for a mortal Man or Hobbit, since he had a far greater inner power than they; but also more, since it was a humbling and abnegation of himself in conformity to 'the Rules': for all he could know at that moment he was the only person who could direct the resistance to Sauron successfully, and all his mission was vain. He was handing over to the Authority that ordained the Rules, and giving up personal hope of success."
(Excerpt taken from a letter written to Robert Murray, S.J. as printed in The Letters of JRR Tolkien, edited by Humphrey Carpenter.)

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Who are your favorite Tolkien characters? What passages will you be reading this evening?

La Belle et la Bête

by Mercer Mayer

As a child, I was read Marianna Mayer's beautiful telling of the Beauty and the Beast story. Her husband, Mercer Mayer, illustrated the book with gorgeous paintings that greatly influenced the way I imagined the story in my mind ever-after.

by Mercer Mayer

As an adolescent, I watched the 1946 Jean Cocteau film version of this French tale, encountering a new set of visual vocabulary with which to understand and imagine it. In the film, the dark corners of Beast's enchanted castle throw black shadows across the pale youthful face of Beauty, engaging simultaneously the magical-myterious and the realistic-dangerous elements of coming-of-age. At 14 years-old, I felt deeply the struggle between acting upon instinct and acting out of obedience; the benefits and pitfalls of acting solely out of either instinct or obedience are exemplified by the main characters. 

I also watched Beauty attempt to establish a safe barrier between herself and her companion--a friend with whom she lived and who daily provoked the idea of marriage and thus physical union. As the Beast's voice grew more gentle to Beauty's ear, she found it increasingly more difficult to refuse experimenting with his touch and exploring the reaches of her love for him. Here is the scene from the film I think best attests to these feelings: 

I love how here we see Beast's ears and eyes become riveted instinctually upon a helpless doe, in the middle of conversation with Beauty. Although Beast struggles to tame his animal impulses and appear to Beauty as a "civilized" and gentle creature, he unwittingly reveals the continued influence of the impulses of a predator. Beauty, then, goes to the fountain and invites him to drink water from her hands, reestablishing his domesticity and allowing herself to feel the touch of his lips, even if only on her hands.

Yesterday, my husband and I came across the trailer for a brand new film version of the story. The costumes look fabulous, and the highly evolved CGI technology promises to bring to life a particularly interesting Beast...

The film is scheduled to debut on February 12, 2014 in France. Although I'm not sure when it is set to arrive in American cinemas, I look forward to seeing this latest iteration of the beautiful 18th century tale.

For more information on the history of Beauty and the Beast and its many literary renderings, please see Terri Windling's engaging article on the subject.

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What are your favorite tales? What are the tales that have stayed with you through the years?

Until next time- keep rustling!
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UPDATE: Just found a great post over at Once Upon a Blog on this film! She has some really nice screen grabs of the trailer as well as the video of the film's theme song. Check it out!

My Year in Petticoats

Happy New Year and Happy Birthday, my Band of Wild Petticoats! January 4th will mark exactly one year of petticoat rustling and peeking at the underthings of literature. And, oh my! It has been quite a year... One of the best things about the year has been sharing life, literature, and art on this blog. The Band of Wild Petticoats now has over 50 posts and has generated over 11,700 views--that's a lot of petticoat rustling! On the Eve of the New Year, before we all eat our grapes and bid farewell to 2013, I thought it would be fun to look back and see what we've been up to...

The 5 most popular posts of the blog so far, according to my stats, were:

#1 The Head The Heart The Hand: Amund Dietzel

#2 The Reason Behind the Risk

#3 Let 'Er Buck

#4 The Importance of Being Stylish

#5 Lost and Found Art: Reviving the Pictorial Webster

And some of my favorite moments from the year were:

#1 Rustling petticoats across the United States and abroad. 

My journey to Maranhão, Brazil

My journey to the Midwest

Small journeys in Colorado

Finding the meaning of Home

#2 Becoming a Master (code for: getting my wizard's robes).

The preparation

The commencement 

  #3 Natural disasters and the End Times. 

Colorado rains

Reading the apocalypse 

#4 Some poems, some prose

                      

                        Cross-dressing in Golden Age Spanish fiction

Soulfood and blues in the poetry of Kevin Young

                        

Cowpuncher Poets

The short fiction of Harry Crews

#5 Some song, some dance, some nice ideas

Neo Fantasy Music

The Pirate of Love

Regular People Dancing

                      

The artwork of Ana Serrano

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Here's to rustling for another year! May you have a very happy New Year filled with art, books, songs and petticoats. Until next year--keep rustling! 

Regular People Dancing

Watching regular people dance will almost invariably elicit a great sense of satisfaction. Proof of this satisfaction is all over youtube. Home videos from weddings, family reunions, and all manner of public dancing, executed by mostly untrained and un-choreographed "regular" folks, receive tens of thousands of views everyday. We like to watch non-professional dancers wiggle their parts at least as much as we like to watch the professionals. Dancing is available to everyone (albeit in varying degrees of gracefulness) and observing dancing is, unlike many human experiences, almost as good as actually doing it.

Although we can see a regular person dancing just about any day (by turning up the speakers and dancing in front of a mirror), we are collectively, as a human culture, so smitten with watching one another dance that we reproduce this phenomena and seek to publicly associate ourselves with the good feelings brought on by seeing how our (sometimes uncoordinated) peers use their bodies as a physical response to rhythm and melody.

A little while ago, I began to keep track of professionally-made music videos whose content solely featured what I refer to as "regular people dancing." Here are a couple:

Dancing is about communicating with other bodies while at the same time becoming very personally aware of your own. Dancing is about simultaneously controlling yourself and letting yourself go. It serves to remind us that our brains only go so far in controlling the way we move through the physical world-- the messages going from brain to our body parts ("Ok, hips, start wiggling") are sometimes executed by those body parts in ways our brain couldn't or didn't predict ("Huh...ok...what am I doing?" or "Dang, I am extra-good at wiggling tonight.").

But perhaps one of the most alluring things about dancing is its potential ability to allow us to transcend the limits of our bodies and our world. For centuries, dancing has been the passageway into trance, into spirit possession, into a personal experience with something eternal.

I mentioned in a previous post that I had been reading a lot about a messianic movement from mid-16th century Peru, referred to as Taki Onqoy (which translates as "Sickness of Dancing" or "Dancing Sickness"). The only documentation we have of this movement comes from the Catholic priest, Cristobal de Albornoz, who took it upon himself to extirpate the movement, which he considered dangerous and heretical.

Guaman Poma's rendering of Cristobal de Albornoz's
extirpation of the Taki Onqoy movement in 16th century Peru

The documents Albornoz produced about the Taki Onqoy are addressed directly to the King of Spain and always close with an overt request to be made bishopric of Cuzco. His personal interests likely influenced the way in which he documented the Taki Onqoy, including the probably inflated number of participants and the blurry details about movement leadership.

What does seem clear, however, is the way in which this movement was practiced: after a period of fasting and abstinence, the taquiongos would enter into a trance through dancing. These were powerful experiences that allegedly lead dancers to reject Christianity and believe instead in a Pan-Indian, post-European and post-Incan society in which andean huacas (deities) acted as a united force, allowing their followers to live free of the oppression suffered at the hands of both Spanish and Incan rulers.

That dancing was central to this movement is not disputed. But rarely have critics and historians been able to explain why dancing was so crucial. ...

What happens to us when we dance? What happens to us when we watch others dance?

Fast-forward back to the present day--I've been reading a ton of books on Candomblé and Umbanda practice in Brazil. These are Afro-spiritous religions whose expression also has dancing rituals at their core. Dancing leads to spirit possession and, from within the ritual space of a terreiro, the pantheon of deities becomes fully present within the body of a dancer, before the eyes of on-lookers.

I could probably (and should probably) do a whole post on what I've recently learned about spirit possession in Brazil... but my point here is that dancing, regardless of borders, history, language, and belief systems, is experienced as a truly unique and mystical encounter of human and spiritual bodies.

These are just two examples of how dancing leads to spiritual connection and even messianic impulses... but I know there are so many examples from around the world and throughout history that would tell a similar story of dance's power. For the moment, however, I guess I am merely trying to point out the fact that even in mainstream pop-culture, we can see clear evidence of our profound attraction to dance--to regular people dancing.


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What do you make of all this??
What are your favorite videos of "regular people" dancing?


Until next time-- keep rustling!

Round Up

Dear petticoat rustlers! This post is simply a round up of some of the things that have recently piqued my interest from around the Internet... presented in no particular order.

1. Hemingway look-alike competition, held every year in Florida. {Photos by Henry Hargreaves} Original photo of Hemingway (pictured upper left) by Yousef Karsh.

             

         

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2. How would one resuscitate drowning victims in the 18th century? Why, tobacco enema, of course. This also explains the expression "Don't blow smoke up my arse." 

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3. Zoomable, digitized version of the manuscript for "Sebastiana del Castillo," one of the very few ballads about a female bandit from the 17th century Latin American imagination, available on the University of Cambridge library website. {Sebastiana's story is a bloody one-- she requests permission to marry her lover and is denied by her parents and brothers, who then lock her up and keep her captive for one year to prevent her from running off with the lover. But after a year, she frees herself, kills her parents and her brothers, and tries to run away with the lover. But the lover proves to be too whiney, so she murders him too. She brings all of her victims' heads to town to tell her story, whence she is condemned to death.}

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4. This incredibly nostalgic, slow motion glance into the American past, through the eye of a brightly flashing camera at a child's birthday celebration...

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5. Read about how the National Carousel Organization is documenting and archiving the evolution of carousels and their art, especially those produced during the carousel's heyday (1890s-1920s). {Originally, carousels were a way for women to flash a little ankle and men to kindle a little love. Many of the artists who carved and painted the animals saw horses, dogs, deer, and such on a daily basis. Therefore, their great familiarity of the animals' anatomy allowed them to create life-like versions out of wood for the carousels.}

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6. Horsemen from Spain...

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7. The power to turn your art into dust...

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8. Norwegian artist, Ida Frosk, recreates famous paintings... on toast.  

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What are you reading about these days on the ole Internet??

Until next time, fair petticoat rustlers-- keep rustling!

The Dying Dog Leaves a Will and The Cat Shits Money

Ariano Suassuna

You guys. I think I'm in love. 

This is Ariano Suassuna, a living playwright from João Pessoa, Paraíba in Brazil. So far, I've only read one little thing he's written, but I'm pretty sure this is the beginning of a longterm love-affair with his writing. 

Yesterday I read his 1955 play, Auto da Compadecida (you can find an English translation by Dillwyn Ratcliff under the title The Rogue's Trial). With an intelligent and biting wit, this play riffs on fantastical literatura de cordel stories, Molière-esque humor, baroque auto sacramentales, the vernacular Catholicism of Brazil's northeast, and of course, hilarious scatological jokes (see: the title of this post). 

The plot is driven primarily by the actions of a poverty-stricken trickster named João Grilo (which means John Cricket). As he tries to improve his lot in life with the help of his only friend, Chicó, he deliberately creates confusion and chaos in order to extract money from the wealthier residents of his small northeastern town. He does this by successfully predicting the sinful ways of the other characters-- the lustfulness and greed of the baker's wife, the sloth of the baker, the greed of the sacristan, the pride of the parish priest and the bishop, and the murderous violence of the superstitious bandit, Severino. 

Cordel-inspired image of the play

The play opens with a scene in which João and Chicó are trying to figure out a way to convince the parish priest to bless the baker's wife's dog, who is near death. Through a series of amusing lies, João actually succeeds in getting the priest to bless the baker's wife's dog (and even get it buried in sacred ground with a Mass recited for it in Latin). João also creates a Last Will and Testament for the dog, setting himself up as one of the recipients of its financial bequest ("what a remarkable animal! such noble intentions!"). As the lusty baker's wife grieves her dead dog, João succeeds in selling her a cat who, he claims, shits money (the cat does a little demonstration of this special talent, shitting out a couple of coins that João and Chicó have shoved up the poor feline's ass). 

This first act establishes the picaresque lengths João is willing to go to in order to get a little money and get back at his former employers, the baker and his wife. It also demonstrates that João is the only character smart enough to create confusion and to straighten confusion out. This contrasts with his friend Chicó, who although he is constantly telling tall tales of fantastical adventures he claims to have had (in the style of fantastical literature de cordel), he is never clever enough to remember all the twists and turns in his story. When João points out an inconsistency in the story, Chicó always ends up concluding: "Não sei! Só sei que foi assim." ("I don't know! I just know that's how it was.") 

Another cordel-inspired image of the play

There are two major turning points in the play. The first major one comes when Severino, the bandit, and his righthand henchman, summarily execute all of the characters except João and Chicó, thanks to João's clever trickery. The lie João tells Severino succeeds in getting himself and Chicó spared, but only for a moment until the lie is discovered and João, Severino, and Severino's henchman all end up dead. 

The second major turning point immediately follows their deaths. All the murdered characters find themselves at their last judgement: Satan on one side sporting the leather outfit of the backlander bandit; and Jesus on the other side, an affable black man with a great sense of humor. As Satan levies charges against each one of the characters, they tremble and try to prepare themselves for an eternity in hell. But João, after having bungled everything up, is the only one able to un-bungle their mortal predicament. To do this, he calls on the Virgin Mary to intercede and act as their "defense lawyer." Mary's mercy knows no limit, and she gently defends the group of sorry souls against Satan's accusations. 

Still from the 2000 film adaptation of the play

This final act in which God the Judge decides the fate of all the play's characters reminded me a bit of Pedro Calderón de la Barca's 17th century allegorical auto sacramental called El gran teatro del mundo. The key difference between Calderón's drama and Suassuna's is the presence of humor in the latter. The audience laughs as the souls squirm during their judgement because João's irrepressible sense of humor continues even after death. And God Himself partakes in jokes-- it is only Satan who wishes to be serious, which makes him even more loathsome, monotonous, predictable.  

Furthermore, the intercession of Mary allows for "wiggle room" and negotiation in the souls' final judgement, which in turn allows for Jesus and Mary to outwit Satan and steal back the wayward souls he desperately tries to make his. Mary takes advantage of her position as defender to out-trick-the-trickster while she simultaneously rescues him from Satan's grasp, teaching João a lesson for having created so much chaos. 

But she does this with great sympathy; the mother of God not only has mercy, but also fun. Here we can begin to perceive a parallel between the divine elements of the play and the profane ones: Sinfulness--among mortals and in Satan himself--is predicable and boring. Humor and wit--among João, Chicó and Mary and Jesus--are surprising and edifying. A smart jokester (in this case João, not Chicó, who is a little dimwitted) is humble and adaptable to any situation, responding to his surroundings with a pun or a quip, thus saving himself in both worldly and heavenly realms. The pompous attitude of the self-important men-of-position are not able to interpret their circumstances quickly enough to respond effectively--they are too caught up in their own self-image, thus leading to a troublesome and dull life and afterlife. 

All of these elements of Suassuna's play come from popular tales of the northeastern oral tradition. "The obsequies of the Dog" and "The Cash-Evacuating Horse" are both anonymous popular folk ballads from the region, while the intercession of Mary is based on a popular folk play called O castigo da soberba. The result of this amalgamation of folk tales, humor, and wisdom is a play that calls attention to the human condition, its hypocrisy and its ability to redeem itself through humor. Dillwyn Ratcliff has said that Suassuna's satire "is forthright and emphatic but not bitter ..." In precious few pages, Suassuna has united a vast array of popular opinion and wit, much in the manner of the old playwrights of the commedia dell'arte. 

How do I know this...? "I don't know! I just know that's how it was..." 

Chicó, in a still from the 2000 film adaptation, reciting his characteristic line: "I don't know! I just know that's how it was." 

I highly recommend you get your hands on this play. You can expect some more reviews here on the blog of Suassuna's work in the near future, too! If you are interested in checking out the film adaptation of this play, the entire thing is available on youtube here, however there are no English subtitles on this version (you may have to purchase it to get subtitles). 

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Have you read any plays recently?? Who are your favorite tricksters?? How important do you think humor is (in matters both sacred and profane)??

Until next time, fair petticoat rustlers! Keep rustling!!

The Hand, The Head, The Heart: Ana Serrano

John Ruskin, the Victorian age art critic, said in his 1895 lecture titled "Unity in Art" that, "Fine art is that in which the hand, the head, and the heart of man go together." He explains that the heart is where emotions are formed, and those emotions are then sent to the head where they are processed, and finally those emotions, once contemplated, are sent to the human hand, which Ruskin regards as a perfect technology ("No machine yet contrived, or hereafter contrivable, will ever equal the fine machinery of the human fingers"). Only with the perfect coordination of the hand, the head, and the heart is it possible to create true fine art. 

One of the things that I like most about the how Ruskin defines fine art here is what he hasn't defined: he doesn't talk about subject matter, medium, or concept. He gives authority only to the sincerity of the heart, the intelligence of the mind, and the ability of the hand-- which means that any artist, producing a work that is honest and true, in any medium, creates fine art. 

That is why, starting today, I am starting a new feature for the blog called (unsurprisingly) The Hand, The Head, The Heart, in which I present the work of a visual artist I feel has these three elements working in harmony. 

The first artist to be featured is the Los Angeles-based sculptor/painter Ana Serrano. I saw her stuff and instantly fell in love with it. 

She works mostly paper and cardboard to create works that gaze openly and honestly at the urban environment in which she lives. A first-generation Mexican-American from LA, Serrano's work speaks eloquently with a Spanglish visual vocabulary to playfully express real hardship, pain, and danger in her home city, at the same time she captures the beauty, love, and persistence. 

The artist Ana Serrano, creating "Cartonlandia" 

"Cartonlandia" 

On her website, her artistic vision is described like this: Her work bears reference to those in low socioeconomic positions, with particular interest in the customs and beliefs, as well as the architecture, fashion, and informal economies present within this segment of society. A current theme explored in her work is the socio-cultural aspects of drug trafficking, and the branding and acceptance of the drug lord lifestyle.

"Chalino" (detail)

"Tres Animales"

"Road to Malverde" (detail)

Serrano makes cardboard versions of buildings - in both small scale and life size. These buildings are definitely evidence that her heart, head, and hands are working perfectly together...

A year ago, the Rice Gallery in Houston, Texas commissioned her to do a whole life-sized neighborhood in their gallery. You can watch a short video of Serrano talking about that work (called Salon of Beauty), her creative process, and her artistic vision here:

You can keep up with her most recent work on her blog.

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What are your thoughts about this artist?? What are your thoughts on Ruskin's idea of fine art??

Until next time!