The Mourners

This French Pleurant (Weeper) resin statue at Design Toscano reminds me of another exhibit we saw at the Los Angeles Museum of Modern Art. It was called The Mourners: Tomb Sculptures from the Court of Burgundy.



Forty small mourner sculptures from the tomb of John the Fearless, second duke of Burgundy, were on display,  in different poses conveying mourning or consoling other mourners, but all dressed similarly. These pieces have been on display in the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Dijon, France for almost 200 years, but are now on tour because that museum is being rennovated.

 Most are faceless, and rather eerie. I can imagine full-sized versions of these in a yard on Halloween.

John the Fearless's tomb, including these mourner figures, was completed following his death under the supervision of his son, Philip the Good.
If I were born in that time, I know my name would end with "the Weird."

The walls of the room holding the exhibit told the story.

One wall explained that funerals of that time "were lavish events that included black drapes and canopies, a golden drapery over the coffin, presentation of the insignia of the deceased duke’s power (his banners, weapons, and horses), and candles and music in abundance. Hooded black cloaks were distributed to all the participating laypersons, from the members of the duke’s family on down to pages and grooms, while the members of the secular and regular clergy wore the garments of their station. The carriages and horses were also draped in black....

...Class distinctions, normally expressed through dress, became temporarily suspended, the black of mourning reminding all present that death was an experience shared by everyone. "

These carved figures are obviously all in white, but that's probably because black marble was hard to obtain.

When the property where the tomb was located was sold off as national property in 1792, "the tombs were kept for the nation because of their historical value. The mourners had always been perceived as the tomb’s key attraction, and they were felt to possess a 'correctness' of style and modeling rare for the Gothic period." So forget the dead body- the mourners are the key attraction. That's a bit sad.

For more information on The Mourners, click here. 

In another building of the museum, we found sculptures that were FAR less intriguing, other than causing us to wonder how they could have possibly have been deemed credible enough to warrant being placed inside a museum. For example, there was the giant litter box full of clean kitty litter: 

Now that is some crappy art. It reminds me of this cartoon:

Then there was this ingenious painting, shown on the wall with its title card:

This 24x18 inch wonder is by Robert Therrien.
No Title (Blue Oval), 1994
Screenprint on spiral-bound acid-free paper and mixed mediums.

I researched it. The artists says: “Blue oval; all is a mirror, a female apogee, my mother.  Because of the edges, which recede toward the wall and create a shadow, from a distance it seems to float, and because of the paint, it seems solid or hollow.  This shows one aspect of the figure-ground play I’m looking for.”

Really? It just reminds me of a blue dot. And an episode of  the 1980's TV show  "Bosom Buddies" where Tom Hanks's character, Kip Wilson, sees a painting of a red dot that is highly regarded by art critics, and disgustedly exclaims  "It's the flag of Japan!"

 Someone is even selling a t-shirt with those immortal words:

The shirt designer and I are probably the only two people on earth that remember that episode :)

This thin glass case looked like there should be a poster in it. There's even a pushpin laying in the case. It looks like the cases in the halls of my old high school. But guess what? It's art. The museum's docent told me it was a work of "deconstructionism."

At least there was this cool, interactive, large piece of art outside:

during the day the noodles gain energy, and they glow in the dark at night.

And as everybody knows, if it glows in the dark, it's good art!

Angel of Death

photo by mbpfx.com

Sometimes I feel like such a schmuck. Such was the case this afternoon, when I was happily surfing the web looking at statues like this one at mbpfx.com. It was pricey so I moved on, coming to a complete stop when I discovered this moody photo of an Angel of Death statue.

Photo by Xartez 

My pupils enlarged to take in all that beauty. What a perfect specimen, I  thought. What a marvel of engineering, to keep those heavy wings extended so far upright. Wish I had one of these in my yard, I thought.

Well, I am the World's Biggest Ass.

Further research on this statue revealed I had fallen in love with a sculpture that had become an international symbol of  Russian deceit.

I will make this history lesson very short. One paragraph, in fact.

Turns out this statue is part of a monument to the 22,000 Polish police officers, border patrol agents, intellectuals, soldiers, and priests who were murdered execution-style in the woods near the small Russian village of Katyn, Russia by the one of Stalin's secret police forces in 1940. All of these men had been at a concentration camps with other people and had been duped into registering their occupation upon arrival. Because of their occupations, these victims were pulled from camp early, executed, and all thrown into the same pit that had been dug in the privacy of the woods. There they lay, secretly buried there in foreign soil, and forgotten. An elderly villager eventually told a visitor of what he suspected was in the woods, causing the International Red Cross to investigate. No one expected to find more than a few dozen bodies; certainly not 22,000.  The site was excavated, revealing mummified bodies, many clearly in uniforms. For over 50 years, the Russians denied their involvement, and pointed fingers at the Germans. Great tension between Poland and Russia ensued, and Katyn became a metaphor for Russian deceit. In 1991, Mikhail Gorbachev finally admitted Russia's guilt and a year later released documents showing Stalin had authorized the killings.

This is what the statue is facing: 

photo by Aga

This haunting set of monuments was created by Tadeusz Tchórzewski, a sculptor from Warsaw, and was  unveiled in October, 2000. The statue is located in Wroclaw, Poland.

On the highest pedestal there is a figure of the Angel of Death. In front of it, between symbolic graves, there is a figure of Katyń Pieta (the Matron of Poland) despairing over a body of a murdered prisoner of war. On the granite walls of the graves, the names of the prisoner-of-war camps are inscribed.

Another Katyn Massacre memorial had been erected in the U.S., at Saint Adalbert Catholic Cemetery in  Illinois, by Polish immigrant and sculptor Wojciech Seweryn, whose father had died in the Massacre.
One year ago, this sculptor was traveling with Polish President Lech Kaczynskihis to a memorial service in Russia for the 70th anniversary of the Katyn Massacre. The plane crashed in heavy fog, and all 96 on board perished.

photo by RaKLeZ

photo by Ferran Cornella

Here's more of the statue's facial details, if you look really hard:

photo: dayslikethis on flickr

I really love angel statues, and this one has the most marvelously detailed spread wings. But I am really sorry about the history behind this one.

Spider on the lawn

I took these pictures in 2008 of a HUGE spider sculpture in a park (Jardin de Tuileries) in Paris. The other day, I decided to research it. Found out that it was made by Frenchwoman Louise Bourgeois, and she died recently, on May 31 of this year. Strangely, she named the sculpture "Maman", which is French for mommy. See, apparently it alludes to the strength of Bourgeois' mother, with metaphors of spinning, weaving, nurture and protection. I didn't notice this part, but the spider's sac contains marble eggs, so she is indeed a maman. Personally, I think "Maman!" is probably what every kid who visits the area is whimpering as they recoil in terror from the sight of a 30-foot black arachnid in their local playground.

There are a total of 8 copies of the sculpture placed around the world, from Tokyo to Havana. Here is one in Spain that really shows the scale:

Since the sculptor was French, it strikes me as sad that the one I found in Paris is no longer there, as that was considered a temporary installation. Spidey was moved on to terrorize a different city somewhere on the planet.