Monday, June 27, 2011


I'm afraid that if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all of its meaning.
This quote from Andy Warhol applies to many aspects of life, but is specifically relevant when it comes to art.
Andy Warhol's Campbell's Soup cans had, unfortunately, fallen into the "familiarity breeds contempt" category for me, until I received an email from a friend last week with the photo above attached. Suddently, I was newly inspired by the familiar work and created four outfits to correspond with the color scheme of the cans' counterparts.

Synonymous with the Pop Art movement, Warhol's Campbell's Soup cans symbolized mundane commercialism, compounded by both the subject and the method of these works. Not only was Campbell's Soup marketed and distributed to mass consumers, but the method by which these works were created--silkscreen--was connected with mass production as well. These works are infinitely important art historically because they signify the move away from the idea of the artist as creative, expressive genius and simultaneously encapsulate the increasing commercialization of society in the 1950s and 1960s.

To view more photos and details of the rest of the outfits, visit my facebook page!

[Warhol image from]

Wednesday, June 22, 2011


Although Abstract Expressionism symbolized the end of painting for some, there was a group of young artists who emerged in the 1950s who sought to re-establish painting apart from the medium-dictated supremacy of established artists like Jackson Pollock and Willem de Kooning.

Cy Twombly (1928) is one of the most important post-AbEx artists, 1/3 of the artistic triumvirate consisting of Twombly, Jasper Johns, and Robert Rauschenberg.

An American artist, Twombly's early position as a cryptologist for the U.S. Army greatly influenced his later artwork.

Twombly's work consists mostly in large-scale paintings reminiscent of graffiti, particularly that which would be found on a chalkboard or on a bathroom wall.

These works combine painting and drawing, and take the actual line or mark itself as their subject.

Twombly's work set the stage for later graffiti artists such as Jean-Michel Basquiat, and he continues to work in a handwritten, yet more representational style.

I'm wearing Ann Demeulemeester paint-splattered pants, a Free People silk blouse, Fashion Against AIDS necklace, Steve Madden sandals, and a Cynthia Rowley clutch.
[Twombly images from,, and, respectively.]

Tuesday, June 14, 2011


In my opinion, maps are often greatly overlooked artistically. Though they are utilitarian, many maps are simultaneoulsy beautiful pieces of visual information.

Maps are the central subject matter of the work of the work of Joyce Kozloff (b. 1942).

Intrigued by cartography and its relationship to culture, Kozloff seeks to break down the boundaries between decorative and fine art through her varied depictions of maps.

Kozloff's works depict a wide range of maps, from "legendary" ones to those approved for civic use by NOAA.

She cites her extensive travel as central to her work, and completes many pieces that are inspired by a particular journey.

Kozloff's work perfectly translates to public art, and she has completed installations all over the world, including San Francisco International Airport and Reagan National Airport in Washington, D.C.

Kozloff uses maps as a means of opening discussion about imperialism and other geopolitical issues.

Though she is admittedly interested in the aesthetic function of maps, her work also challenges the viewer with other issues. The work below, Targets, is an environment in which the interior is painted with aerial maps of places that were bombed by the US between 1945 and 2000.

Kozloff has found that maps have allowed her to explore many issues through her work by still adhering to the Western ideal of art and beauty. According to her, maps are "both graphically satisfying and intellectually questioning."

Kozloff is represented by DC Moore Gallery in New York.

I'm wearing a vintage Diane von Furstenberg jumpsuit from Beacon's Closet in Brooklyn, thrifted woven belt, thrifted vintage straw clutch, Swatch starfish watch, no name bangle, and Cynthia Vincent x Target wedges.

[All images from]

Friday, June 10, 2011


One of the most well-known works of ancient Egyptian art is the bust of Nefertiti (ca. 1370-1330 B.C.), wife of pharaoh Akhenaten.

When I spotted this tunic at the local Salvation Army, I immediately recognized the famous features.

Nefertiti and Akhenaten are noted in history for worshiping only one god: Aten, the sun disc.

The bust of Nefertiti that has given historians the most clear idea of her appearance was made by the sculptor Thutmose and now resides in the Neues Museum in Berlin.

A highly esteemed ruler, Nefertiti has become a symbol of ancient Egyptian art, as well as feminine authority. The name Nefertiti means "the beauty has come".

The bust itself is significant art historically because it represents the ancient Egyptians' realistic understanding of facial proportions. In the above relief of 1320-1200 BCE, also depicting Nefertiti, the more common stylized facial structure of ancient Egyptian art is evident.

I'm wearing a thrifted tunic made by "The African Scene" and a vintage necklace.

[Nefertiti images from,, and, respectively.]

Tuesday, June 7, 2011


After more than a few years spent studying art, some topics become tiresome. I am ashamed to admit that, at one point, the sight of a Picasso collage was less than inspirational.

A few months ago, my interest was piqued anew with the Picasso: Guitars 1912-1914 exhibition at the MoMA in New York. Some time has passed since I visited the recently closed exhibition, but my wheels are still turning. One great thing about art is that there are always new ways to see things.

1912-1914 were years in which Picasso experimented heavily with guitars as subject matter, and during which time he produced the radical cardboard sculpture seen here.

Guitars remained part of Picasso's subject matter throughout his career, as evidenced by the array of works shown here.

Before the exhibition, I had never fully considered the question of why guitars were such an important aspect of Picasso's work.

For one, they closely resemble the human form, and provided a means for Picasso to draw correlations between animate and inanimate objects, as explained by Blake Gopnik in this review.

In this way, the guitar represents not only the instrument, but also the person who plays the instrument, and Picasso himself.

The guitar also symbolized Picasso's Spanish heritage.

"It's nothing, it's el guitare." --Picasso on whether his guitar works were paintings, sculptures, or collages

I'm wearing an H&M necklace, vintage pants, BCBG wedges, thrifted H&M sweater, and shades courtesy of Sunglasses Shop. The guitar is a Little Martin.

[Picasso images from,,,,, and, respectively.]