Eliot vs. Bukowski

Out of all the poems we’ve seen in class, Eliot’s “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” and Bukowski’s “Bluebird” have been, by far, my favourites. Even though these poets lived at different times and in different places, wrote about different things and had different styles, there are also things that make their poems alike.

     The intention of this short essay is to show not only the differences, but also the similarities between these two poems.

     Since their differences are more evident, I’ll start by analyzing these. In “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” Eliot uses a lot of allusions and imagery to describe the situation. The words he uses in this poem possess a certain musicality, and the way in which they are arranged create a nice pace that lulls the reader into a sort of trance that allows you to follow the stream of consciousness of the character as if it were your own.  On the other hand, we have “Bluebird” by Bukowski. Not only is this poem considerably shorter –compared to Eliot’s– but it is also easier to follow. Bukowski tells the reader what is going on, simple and to the point –unlike Eliot, who trails the reader along the character’s stream of consciousness. Bukowski’s use of the language is less ornate, which makes his poem more approachable.

     I’ve found that the similarities in these poems lie in their meaning rather than in their form. “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” is about a man who is self-conscious and has a strong feeling of inadequacy.  “Bluebird” is about a man who hides a part of himself to maintain the image people have of him, because he feels that if people were to know about this side of him they would also think less of him. Both poems are about vulnerability, about an intense fear of giving away too much of oneself, and about the walls we build to protect ourselves from what is outside of us, only being truly free inside our minds.

     The reason why these poems are my favourites –out of all the ones we’ve seen in class– is because they reveal an inevitable aspect of the mind, which is self-doubt, and they do so with honesty and resignation. I love Eliot’s and Bukowski’s voices, and consider both poems to be heartbreakingly beautiful.

Q&A #7: Kerouac

1. How does the narrator describe Lowell at the time when Kerouac was growing up?

 The narrator says that Lowell was a town of textiles and shoe factories; built on water power, Catholic faith, and the sweat of the Irish, Greek, and French-Canadian immigrants.

2. How did Kerouac’s childhood as a French Canadian immigrant, his mother’s devout Catholicism and his strict schooling contributed to his later rebellious adventures in writing?

3. What was the influence of Thomas Wolfe on Kerouac as described by the narrator?

The narrator quotes Kerouac saying that Thomas Wolfe “woke me up to America as a poem, instead of a place to struggle around and sweat in. This dark eyed poet made me want to prowl and roam, and see the real America that it never been uttered”.

4. How did ‘The City’ open Kerouac up and help define his ‘own’ writing style, according to Herbert Hunke?

Kerouac was very interested in people, and being in a big city with thousands of strangers to talk to –or just watch– helped him find his voice.

5. What does John Clennon Holmes say about the Word or idea of the ‘Beat’ mean originally?

It was used to describe Kerouac’s generation which, after the war, was beat, reduced to the essentials, lacking energy to keep poses and appearances.

6. What influence did ‘Jazz’ have on Kerouac’s writing?

For Kerouac, Jazz was like a living language, and he managed to get jazz rhythms into his prose.

7. Who was Neal Cassady and how do they describe his influence on Kerouac?

Neal Cassady was one of Kerouac’s friends. Kerouac described him as a “flaming comet from the west”, and he would become centre to some of his work, like “On the Road” and “Visions of Cody”.

Q&A #6 T.S. Eliot

1. After the first two parts…how would you summarize or paraphrase the mood created around Eliot by the people interviewed?

2. Near the end of part 3, how do you think Eliot’s decision to marry and stay in London contributed or defined his decision to be a poet?
By marrying Vivienne and staying in London, Eliot detached himself from his family and the responsibilities they imposed on him. Even though his family didn’t take him seriously as a poet and believed it was just a phase he wanted to be a poet, and by making his life in London away from his family they couldn’t interfere with his decisions.

3. How difficult is it for later generations to really get “The Wasteland” without experiencing that time period and the war?
T.S. Eliot wrote “The Wasteland” by recollecting all the feelings society was experiencing after WWI, which had a massive impact on people. It was something that hadn’t happened before, it was something new and terrifying, and it marked people. And because new readers didn’t experience these feelings or lived this terror, they cannot completely understand what Eliot was writing about. You can always imagine, but you never know for sure.

4. How do you think Eliot’s position at the bank contributed, if at all, to his success as a poet?
His position as an important banker landed him a position at Faber & Faber, a publishing house, because of his abilities as a business man. However, by working at a publishing house he was closer to what he really liked, which was writing poetry. He was working from the inside, both as a publisher and a writer, and that complemented his work.

5. Similarly, how do you think Eliot’s religious interests contribute to his life and his life as a poet?
Eliot was a very spiritual man and religion was an important part of his daily life. His beliefs are reflected in his work because they were him, they were an essential part of his persona.

6. Do you think Eliot’s Anti-Semitic comments or references to Jews was a personal or a collective problem of the time?
The Anti-Semitic phrases in Eliot’s poems reflect the collective beliefs; it reflects the way jews were seen in Europe at that time but particularly the way they had been seen in England for centuries. The jews had a very strong stereotype to fight against, because many of them were money loaners they were considered to be greedy and to be cheaters.

7. What do you make of the role of Eliot’s wife in his later years? 
When Eliot met his second wife, Valerie, he was getting old and lonely, he had had some bad experiences with relationships, particularly with his first wife, and he just needed someone who truly loved him and looked after him. Valerie did all this things for him; she genuinely cared about his wellbeing and wanted to support him in whichever way she could. Eliot was deeply in love with her and I believed their relationship made his last years all that much enjoyable.

Norman Rockwell

I still remember the first time I laid eyes on him; a quick glance, eyes barely skimming the surface, and just like that I was enraptured. It must have been 2007, my grandmother was back from visiting her youngest daughter in Boston and had brought back with her a bunch of museum pamphlets. As she told the family about her trip –which to be brutally honest I didn’t care about– I took those pamphlets and started going through them one by one. And, suddenly, I stopped. I don’t think I had seen –up to that point, anyway– such a handsome face. Dark eyes framed by curtains of thick lashes, a big and angular nose –straight except for a bump on the bridge of the nose– his sharp cheekbones flushed, his chiseled jaw shadowed by faint traces of stubble, and a cigarette hanging loosely from his thin lips –his only fault being, perhaps, not having enough eyebrows. Who was that man and, most importantly, who had made him possible?

      I remember reading the name of the artist and looking at some other pictures of his work, but my eyes kept going back to that glorious diner scene as if being pulled by magnets. The balance between light and shadow, the warm colours, and all those little details that seem to have no relevance but that cannot be omitted because of what they add to the bigger picture and the message it sends to the viewer. And in that Sunday afternoon, as my parents and siblings sat, scattered all over my grandmother’s bedroom, listening to a detailed description of the Boston Marathon, I felt –and, in a way, I still do– as if for once I knew something no one else knew, as if I held the answer to some ancient question, as If I finally knew what life was all about.

     After a while, though, I forgot the name of the artist –apparently, his name wasn’t as memorable as his paintings were. I did try to google search that painting several times, but to no avail. And eventually I gave up. I had to settle with the knowledge of its existence and try to remember the colours of the scene as vividly as possible. It wasn’t until two years later, I think, that I was reading a novel in which the author described a scene and later stated that it looked as if painted by Norman Rockwell. Norman Rockwell, it was a name like any other, it didn’t mean anything to me, except that –as I discovered that day, and for the second time in my life– it belonged to a man who had the power to move me. I just knew it had to be him.

     Along with books, trees, old movies, and rainy days, I count Norman Rockwell’s pictures amongst my favourite things in the world. His pictures portray scenes of everyday life with such optimism and comical undertones that leave the viewer felling warm and happy, as if there was nothing going wrong in the world. Which I believe, particularly in this day and age, is something everyone should experience even if it is only for a couple of seconds. In this essay I am going to talk about my all-time favourite American artist, Norman Rockwell and his work –particularly his magnificent painting Saying Grace.

     Norman Rockwell [1894-1978] was a 20th century American artist. Throughout his paintings and illustrations Rockwell depicted the American society of that time. However, more than a painter, Rockwell was an illustrator. He collaborated regularly with the American magazine The Saturday Evening Post, illustrating its cover for over forty years. He even created a character, Willie Gillis, who would have the honor of gracing the cover of this magazine in several occasions. The Gillis series follows the life of a young American boy who goes to war only to come back a grown man who goes to college –a relatable character readers felt close to. All of Rockwell’s pictures have a happy and optimistic tone to them, which I think is funny since Erik Erikson, Norman Rockwell’s psychiatrist at the Austen Riggs Center in Stockbridge, once said of the artist:

“Rockwell painted his happiness; he didn’t live it.”

      Rockwell’s paintings share characteristics and techniques that make him so unique and different as an artist –and perhaps, a bit underrated. Details are of extreme importance to Norman Rockwell; after all, it is the little details that make his pictures: from a red punctured train ticket hanging from the backrest of a seat, to the surreptitious smile of a wife sitting next to her husband –who seems to be upset about having a black eye– at a Marriage Counselor’s office. The way Rockwell worked was to start with photographs he had taken, using them as initial inspiration, and then, more than changing the original image, he would add details to create his final product: relatable pictures that could make anyone smile –except for those pictures in which he painted African Americans, which at that time made most people from the south raving mad. He also paid a lot of attention to textures and the movement of the fabrics; he made them look so real you can almost feel them. Not only can you differentiate leather from felt, but you can also see every single crease either on a pair of pants or on an old woman’s face.

     Rockwell plays with lights and shadows to give life to his pictures, giving depth to some elements while granting transparencies to some others. In Saying Grace for instance, he focuses the light on the window and shadows the elements that are farthest from it.
Another ever present element in Norman Rockwell’s pictures is comedy; ridiculous situations that end up being endearing rather than foolish. An example of this can be seen in one of his pictures where a sailor is getting tattooed some girl’s name. However, above this name are six other names of girls he once got tattooed and later on crossed, in order to give way to the name of his latest catch. Another example would be a picture of a redheaded girl, sitting outside the principal’s office, who is smiling despite having a black eye.

      One thing that I find rather interesting is how similar some of the characters are to their creator: tall and scrawny, with gangly limbs, big ears and noses, and very prominent Adam’s apples. One would assume this is part of the comical factor that seems to be present in every Rockwell painting. However, once you see a picture of Norman Rockwell himself, it all makes sense. He was very tall and tended to slouch, his limbs were slender and quite long –particularly his fingers– and his Adam’s apple seemed to be almost as big as his nose –which was quite big! This is one thing I love about his characters; it is their imperfections that make them so perfect.

     I love all of Rockwell’s pictures, but Saying Grace is by far my favourite picture by Rockwell. One of the reasons why I love it so much is because, as I’ve already mentioned, it introduced me to this wonderful artist, but also for all the things that it conveys. Simply by looking at it, you can make out tons of traditions, beliefs, and activities of the American everyday life. This picture displays the image of an old woman and a young boy –her grandchild, I suppose– sharing a diner table with two young adults. The old woman and young boy clasp their hands and bow their heads respectfully in prayer, saying grace before they start on their food. The young men sitting across the table from them, eye them curiously, fascinated by the solemnity of the pious pair. Unlike the old woman and young boy, the two men –one fair, one dark– sit smoking cigarettes. The fair one –blond hair combed to the side– holds a newspaper with both hands, a lit cigarette –smoke slithering upwards– wedged between the fore and middle fingers of his right hand. As for the other man, the brunette, he holds a cup of coffee –or perhaps tea, but I’d peg Americans to be more the coffee types– with both hands, the veins on the left one slightly showing beneath the skin that stretches tightly over his knuckles, a cigarette –which seems to be unlit, since no smoke coils out of it– hanging from his lips. Behind him, a man walks into the crowded diner looking for a table. As he takes his coat off, his eyes wander interestedly over at the woman and child who, undisturbed, continue their prayers. In the background one can make out the silhouette of a train, hazed by the delicate veil that covers the diner’s window –the last four and a half letters of the word RESTAURANT printed inversely on its surface. The entirety of the scene is bathed by an amber glow, warming the faces of all five characters –well, four faces and the back of one head, since the young boy is giving his back to the viewer. Norman Rockwell wrote on his memoire the following line on Saying Grace:

“The people around them were staring, some surprised, some puzzled, some remembering their own lost childhood, but all respectful.”

     What I see whenever I look at Norman Rockwell’s pictures is an ideal world, where people take life as it comes and try to make the most out of it, knowing that things can –and most probably will– go wrong but in the end everything will be alright. He didn’t paint only what he saw in the American society –in fact he suffered from depression so, if he had, his paintings would’ve been drastically different– but rather what he wanted to see, what he wanted the American society to be. More than selling portraits of reality, what he was selling were ideals, dreams, goals to strive for. And the best part –and the reason why I admire his work so much– is that he painted achievable things, giving the viewers hope to go after those things.

      Rockwell’s paintings always give me a certain longing for those times which, to me, are unknown and yet feel so familiar. Perhaps times were never like that, perhaps they will never be, but one can always hope.

Q&A #5 The Genius of Photography

The Genius of Photography part2

1. How does the idea of the camera being a machine, objective, purged of subjectivity, immediately differ from the idea of pictoralism?

These ideas of machinery and objectivity differ from the idea of pictorialism because the pictorialist photographers were always creating and editing scenes rather than capturing the scene in its natural state. They thought that by creating a context and by using props, their photograph would be a form of art rather than just the documentation of everyday life. They considered the camera to be a tool, rather than a machine.

2.  ‘Anyone who fails to understand photography will be one of the illiterates of the future.’  Why?  Does this still apply today, does it apply more today than ever?

Lázsló Moholy-Nagy said that “Anyone who fails to understand photography will be the illiterates of the future” because at that time photography was rapidly gaining popularity as an art form –despite of the ongoing debates about its legitimacy– and also because it was a medium that allowed the artist to capture real life events in their purest form. If people didn’t get it, they wouldn’t be able to understand what was going on around them. Nowadays photography is a big part of the visual arts, both as a tool and as a form of art itself. However, it hasn’t taken over other forms of visual arts, like many people at that time though –and hoped– it would. While it plays a big role in culture, I don’t think it is indispensable; you can always find answers in other forms of art.

3.  What is photographic typology?

 Photographic typology is the documentation through photography of a group of object that share similar characteristics. Photographers are supposed to document the facts, and nothing more.

4.  Why would August Sander’s ‘Face of the Times’ be considered modernist?

 August Sander’s “Faces of the Times” is considered to be modernist because it intends to capture the whole of humanity, at that time in history, in just one set of photographs. As if those faces, categorized in seven social types, could represent every other face in the world.

5.  What is the importance of the Notary’s coat in one of August Sander’s photos?

 The Notary’s coat is important because, while it once was an elegant coat it has lost its shape, and this represents how people didn’t want things to change, they would hold on to what they had and what it once represented. That they, as people, remain unchanged and are no less than they always were.

6.  What were Alex Rodchenko’s theories about photography and its place in society?

With photography, Alex Rodchenko thought that artists could play part in the dictatorship of the proletariat. He proposed an approach to photography that would be modern, objective and free from the taint of bourgeois subjectivity. A new society demanded new ways of seeing the world.

7. What were the effects of the Leica camera?

 The Leica camera allowed the photographer to move with the camera and take shots in any angle, allowing the viewer to see reality with a different perception.

8.  How do Rodchenko’s photo montage´s anticipate the ‘cut and paste’ era of our computer age?

Rodchenko saw a way to manipulate photography that would allow him to create different realities but that at the same time would communicate the reality in which he lived. He accomplished that by mixing different photographs into a bigger picture, similar to what can be done nowadays with photoshop. He started this idea of editing and composing, and got magnificent results without the use of all the technology we have now.

9. How is there something ‘romantic’ about Eugene Atget’s use of 70 year old photographic equipment?

 He was a man who was very concerned and distressed by how fast and how much things were changing. He wanted to capture the essence of nostalgic memories and longing, and the only way to do that was through old equipment. He captured the world and, at the same time, memories of better times.

10. How do Atget’s photographic ‘documents’ verge toward the poetic?

Atget’s “documents” verge towards the poetic because he made his photographs personal. He looked for the detail but didn’t make it obvious; he just let it play its role and speak for itself, making itself known to the viewer as if by whispering to him.

11.  What was the camera, to Man Ray?

For Man Ray the camera was not a machine for documentation but an instrument for explorind dreams, desires, and the unconscious mind.

12. What is of interest and significant about Man Ray’s ‘Dust Breeding’?

 This photograph challenges the idea that photography should document reality by creating an image that is completely ambiguous. The viewer can see whatever it is that he wants to see, because there is nothing that can give reference as to what the photograph is of.

13. What was the ‘found object’ to the surrealist’s?

The “found object” was any object that the artist came across, and then the artist would take that object out of its context so that it would look out of place, transporting the viewer into another state of consciousness.

14.  How and why, do you think, are photography and propaganda so easily aligned?

Photography and propaganda are closely linked because we live in a world highly influenced by image. An image can communicate so much, to so many and in so little space, that it has become the go to tool of the 20^th and 21^st century. Propaganda uses an image to convey an entire ideology and feed it to the masses.

Descriptive Essay #3 Trees

I love trees, and I don’t mean it in a ‘let’s save the planet and use recycled paper!’ kind of way. I love how they appeal to all the senses and all the emotions they awaken, the comforting shelter they offer, and their romantic simple nature that always reminds me of Wordsworth –my favourite poet.

   There is nothing that brings me more peace of mind than looking out of the window in my room –which is, literally, wall-sized– and being met by such a breath-taking and poetic scene:  rows of trees facing each other from across the road, intertwining their lean –yet strong– branches and building canopies with their abundant foliage, making tunnels that seem to lead to a magical place. In this essay I am going to describe this beautiful scenery and its evolution throughout the seasons.

     Spring is undoubtedly my least favourite of all four seasons. The reason is rather simple: I can’t stand the heat! However, there is one thing I do enjoy doing at this insufferable time of year and that is going for a walk –as long as it is under the shade of the trees! Their fresh new leaves, crisp and smooth, cooling the scorching atmosphere, their tangy scent permeating the air.

     Rain is always abundant in summer time. Luckily, it also happens to be the best companion to trees. A smoky grey background clashing against an almost iridescent green, the unceasing drizzle tapping against the lush foliage, that tangy scent now intensified by the earthy aroma of damp bark, and the mist rising from the ground, twirling around the tree trunks. This is the reason why summer is the time of year in which I write the most –well, that and the summer holidays.

     However, nothing compares to autumn. Leaves change colour and fall off the trees like rain, flooding the pavement with pools of crimson and amber; golden light filtering through their foliage, a powdery haze that glows in the sunlight like fairy dust.

     By winter time almost all the leaves have come off, except for the few rebels that cling to their feeble branches for dear life. The now bald trees stand firm and proud like dark and pointy gothic structures, decorated by innumerable extensions of fairy lights…if only we could have some snow.

    Unyielding, regal, vital and at times a bit underrated, trees are the living proof of what simple and natural beauty is; without a doubt one of the greatest masterpieces of creation.

Q&A #4: The Genius of Photography

The Genius of Photography

1. The narrator mentions that photography can reveal the ‘secret strangeness that lies behind the world of appearances, do you believe this is possible through photography?

Unlike other forms of visual arts –like painting, for example– photography captures life and real objects. We know these objects exist but we never stop to really see them or analyse all that is images. We think we know things, but we really don’t until we take some of our time to study and discover things. Photography offers the viewer the possibility to get closer to these objects and discover ther secret strangeness.

2. When was photography invented and by which two men?  What did they mean by ‘fixing the shadows?

Photography was invented in the 19^th century by Louis Daguerre and Henry Fox Talbot.

3. What is the camera obscura and how does it work?

The “Camera Obscura” is a technique that consists of a completely obscured room with the exception of a small hole from which some light filters into the room, allowing images to be projected inversely on the walls of the room.

4. What’s the significance of Pliny’s story, according to the narrator?

People like to have images that represent what they love, and the best way to get these representations is through photography because it captures the object as it really is.

5. How do Romanticism and photography InterConnect or how are they related?

In the romanticism artists were always struggling to capture the essence of nature in their work, make it as vivid as possible, and photography is capable of capturing nature in its purest form.

6. What was the difference between Talbot’s and Daguerre’s methods and how would those differences affect the evolution of photography?

Daguerre invented the “daguerrotype”, which consisted in capturing images with mirrors. Talbot, on the other hand, was able to capture images on paper. However, his images were inverted and they are what we now know as negatives.

7. What ‘happens’ in a daguerrotype with the light and silver that differs from photographic paper?

 Dagerrotypes capture the light that is reflected on the object and into the mirror’s surface; the chemicals allow the light to print the image on the mirror.

8. What do you think is the difference between the human psychological preoccupations and the objectivity of a machine like the camera to capture reality?

9. How does photography ‘freeze time’ in a way never done before and how does that change time itself?

Photographs capture reality; they are –for the most part– objective. Before photography was invented, the best way to capture a moment in time was through painting, and this involved a lot of subjectivity on the artist’s part. Photography freezes time, without altering it and this fact changes time because it immortalises it.

10. Who was Eadweard Muybridge and what does he have to do with the evolution of motion pictures?

Eadweard Muybridge was a photographer and horse enthusiast who had the brilliant idea of placing several cameras in a race track. These cameras would be activated in a sequence that would capture a horse as it went by. Muybridge only wanted to prove that horses lifted all four legs while trotting, but in doing so he also discovered photography in sequence, which later on led to motion pictures.

11. How does Chuck Close explain the art of photography?

He says that while photography might be relatively easy, it is also the hardest form of visual art to display the artist’s personal vision. In order to be a real photographer, the viewer should be able to recognize your work.

12. How did amateur photography become possible and what were its effects on photography in general?

Amateur photography became possible with the invention of Kodak, a camera with commercial purposes. With this new product people were able to capture moments of their everyday life and save their memories.

13. How is it possible to have accidental masterpieces in photography?

One never knows what might happen the second you press the shutter release, after all it is real life we are talking about and anything can change in a blink of an eye. It might be that something extraordinary happens and you are lucky enough to capture it. And there it is, an accidental masterpiece.

Q&A #3 The Power of Art: Rothko

1. Why do you think the narrator makes such a point of the difference between what his generation was seeing as art and the solemnity and seriousness of Rothko’s work?

Because at that time what people were looking forward to see were the fun and bright-coloured paintings of artists like Warhol or Lichtenstein, and not Rothko’s paintings which were the opposite: serious and solemn.

2. He describes the paintings as ‘throbbing or pulsing’.  Why?  Or, can you also see what he means when you are confronted with Rothko’s work?

Rothko’s paintings are not only big but they are also full of deep colours and shades that wrap around you and suck you in until there is nothing else you can see but the painting. It is almost as if the canvas were alive, pulling you closer, and once you are in there’s no way out.

3. How does Rothko, according to the narrator, demonstrate ‘depth’ over just simple ‘dazzle’?  Why would this be important and what does it show how American art was regarded internationally up until then?

Rothko wanted to prove to the world, through his work, that America had depth and not just dazzle. He believed that art could change the world and connect the viewer with the basic emotions that makes them human. He wanted to give light –with his paintings– to whoever was accusing America of shallowness; his work being ‘unmistakably’ deep.

4. Why do you think Rothko was so concerned and preoccupied with the Seagram’s commission?  What was it about capitalism that made him consider and reconsider the assignment?

 Because by accepting the commission he felt as if he were selling out; he was ambivalent about the American capitalism.  However, Rothko thought art could change the world and decided to take part in this project –the biggest challenge of his career.

5. How do you think Rothko’s Jewish heritage played a part in his development and success as an artist, if at all?

First his family fled Russia because of the treatment Jews were give. Then they settled in America where Rothko was encouraged by his mother to be an exemplary kid, which he achieved, receiving a scholarship to Yale. But once more, Rothko was rejected for his Jewish heritage. This constant feeling of being unappreciated made him want to prove himself and succeed even more.

6. What was he really thinking of accomplishing with the Seagram paintings?  How did he view the people who would be dining and thus viewing them on a regular basis?

 He wanted his paintings to be a wordless teaching, an antidote to the triviality of modern life. However, he thought it was up to the viewer to give a pain ting its value and meaning and, just the same, it was the viewer who could render a picture worthless.

7. How did ‘traditional education’ actually seem to get in the way of Rothko following his instincts?

The problem with Rothko and his first paintings was that he knew too much about art and what other artists were doing at that time, which made his over-conscious of his performance as an artist. He was overthinking every single detail and letting reason rule over instinct.

8. How did the war, according to the narrator, drastically change the subject matter of painting for Rothko and his generation?

Rothko knew that conflict was a crossroads for art and he and his contemporaries thought that it was useless to continue painting flowers when the world was going through fascism and –according to them, anyway– it was up to America to save the western world.

9. Why was Rothko so spellbound by Micheal Angelo’s walls while on his vacation in Europe?  What does he say he would like to similarily achieve?

He was impressed by the way the walls seemed to trap the viewers so that they would not have another option but to be confronted by them. Rothko wanted to achieve a similar feeling with his art, the sensation of being engulfed by it.

10.  How is it possible to show the ‘truth of being human’ through abstract art?

Artists at that time thought that there was no longer a way to paint the human figure without mutilating it, so they found a way to reconnect people with physical reality through shapes and shades.

11. The narrator talks about the ‘presence’ of Rothko’s paintings, even if you have your back to them.  Do you think that is plausible, or have you had a similar experience with art in the past?  Is there a possible religious experience in art that secular minded people can also attain, or see?

Simon Schama says that Rothko’s paintings emanate so much energy that it is impossible not to sense them even when having your back to them. Even though I’ve never seen any of Rothko’s paintings I believe it is possible that once you see his paintings you absorb so much of their vibrancy you continue to experience it even though you’re not longer seeing his work –i.e. you carry its energy.

12.  In Rothko’s case, did Art triumph over Money?

Rothko’s work did triumph over money. He rejected his million dollars commission because he thought that millionaires who were shallow enough to throw thousands of dollars for a meal would never be able to appreciate and understand the depth of his paintings and, therefore, these people were undeserving of this kind of revelation.

13. What’s the significance of the black paintings in Rothko Chapel in Texas?

With the Texas Chapel Rothko was finally given a chance to express himself publicly through his paintings. However, at this point his life wasn’t going very well and he was beginning to give up on art and its powers. This last collection is full of ominous darkness, the exact opposite to pop art.

Descriptive Essay #2 New York City

Over the last centuries there’s been a city known for taking in and giving hope to immigrants from all over the world, a city that shouts out a million testimonies: stories of success, stories of disillusion, but mostly stories of hard work; a city that is home to the arts and the finest museums, a city as bright as its billboards, a city that stands out from all others, a city that never sleeps.

     I’ve been to many cities in North America: San Francisco, San Antonio, Miami, Orlando, Boston, Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal and Quebec City; but none resemble New York City in the slightest.  In this essay I am going to talk about New York City, one of the most loved cities in the world and one that –despite of all the dirty looks I get whenever I say it– I don’t like at all.

     Being from Mexico City one would assume that big cities don’t faze me, but with New York City that’s never the case. From the second I set foot on the streets of this concrete empire I feel completely overwhelmed and overtaken by panic. Seas of people storm past you in overcrowded sidewalks, swallowing you in like quick sand. A skyline that is barely visible above towering buildings that close in over your head like ravenous beasts, the only way out a thousand feet away. Then there’s the incessant song of the restless drills, always fighting to be heard over the permanent traffic noises. And when seen at night from an airplane, New York City has an uncanny resemblance to Mordor, which is both amusing and terrifying: wild, vicious and perhaps more alive once midnight has struck; its lights glowering like flames and embracing the cool and dark surfaces of skyscrapers crowned by ominous sharp spears.

      If I had to use just one word to describe this city, it would be –without a doubt– claustrophobic. It surely evokes a sense of imprisonment, always being confined to an area of no more than 2×2 square feet –personal space being a completely foreign concept– the anxiety as you try to push through throngs of people, desperately trying to find some air and finally be able to breathe –oxygen only existing in Central park. With crowds and enclosed spaces being some of my biggest fears, there really is no wonder why I don’t enjoy being engulfed by this city. However, this won’t stop me from going back to New York City; who knows, maybe one day I’ll be able to see its beauty and fall in love with it, like millions have.

Descriptive Essay #1 Autumn

Vast blue skies that seem eternal, swift gusts of freezing wind, a radiant sun that burns cold, endless Cordilleras of dry leaves, and the warm and pungent smell of cinnamon and clove. Surely, when I think of all this wonderful things, my birthday doesn’t seem to come soon enough.

     Being born on the last day of summer, it is no wonder that I love autumn so much. To me all these traits are symbols of happy days and contented hearts, from a warm slice of succulent pumpkin pie to an exciting and well anticipated Saturday match of college football, preferably between legendary rivals LSU Tigers vs. Florida Gators –me supporting the latter. In this –rather short– essay I am going to describe my favorite season of the year: autumn.

     I was born in Mexico City and have lived here for the best part of 21 –almost 22– years. Now, any foreigner who has never set foot on Aztec soil may dream of warm semi desert weather and crystalline oceans kissing powdery white sand. However, Mexico City couldn’t be more far from that utopic dreamland scene. While rain is a condition constantly attributed to England, France, and the Olympic Peninsula, it is also a recurring guest in practically every scene of three out of four seasons: winter, spring –except for those rare and glorious 40 days of unbearable heat– and summer. Don’t get me wrong, I adore rain, I am –after all– an eternal romantic and a lover of Wellington boots. But there is an enrapturing charm to autumn that makes it, without a doubt, the best season of the year.

     In autumn the sky is always blue and clouds are rare –if you do happen to see them you’ll notice they are cirrocumulus, or, as I normally call them, herds of sheep– because the wind is so strong it sweeps them away. And even though the sun is brighter than ever, bathing everything with an amber glow, the frigid air seeps through the several layers of clothing this season requires, getting under the skin until it reaches the bone –and don’t even get me started on burning nostrils! However, this is nothing a pair of arm warmers, a beanie and an infinity scarf can’t solve –yes, one of my favorite activities of the season is, in fact, knitting.

     The warm embrace of an amber afternoon, the inviting smell of apples and spice, and the promise of a wonderful life, make of autumn the most romantic and heartwarming season.