The structure of this sculpture was inspired by the parfleche (pronounced “par-flesh”) containers and travois (pronounced “tra-voy” or “trav-wa”) that were used by Native American tribes from the Plains. A travois was typically made from tipi poles, and would have been pulled by a horse or dog. Nomadic tribes used them to transport their belongings, which were often stored in parfleches. This word is thought to have come from the French words for “to parry (defend),” parer, and “arrow,” fleche, and originally referred to rawhide shields or body armor.
Although Berthe’s early style was more traditional due to her formal training, she became heavily influenced by the unconventional and modern approach to art espoused by Édouard Manet and of the later Impressionists. For this painting, Berthe may have completed part of it en plein air, or outside and onsite. Here, In this painting, Berthe’s loose brushwork and vibrant color palette work together as she attempted to capture the effect of dappled light filtering through the trees into the garden.
While living and working in Paris, Degas frequently attended the Paris Opera, and became intrigued with the performers and musicians he saw there, including ballet dancers. Dancers became some of Degas’s favorite subject matter, as they provided a way to investigate movement and his love of materials. He rendered them in charcoal, oil paint, prints, pastel, watercolor, wax, and clay. Degas would often portray the dancers rubbing sore muscles, stretching, gossiping, or prepping for a number on stage. Few of his works show the dancers actually on stage performing.
Waddell feels a strong connection to his home, saying that “Montana has caused me to be who I am, and I love this place,” and “I have to be where I am to paint what I paint.” He also loves animals and has spent decades of his life surrounded by cattle, sheep, horses, dogs, and other furry friends. He sees the animals and landscapes that he paints as inextricably connected; the cattle “give a focus to the landscape that can’t be perceived any other way.”
Magicians placed protective deities throughout the king’s palace, wherever they were thought to be most effective. Bird-headed deities often stood at doorways, protecting the palace from evil spirits. Magic was an essential part of religion and daily life in ancient Assyria and was used in everything from medicine to architecture. Kings served as high priests and had ceremonial responsibilities. Icons throughout the castle, including relief carvings like this one, affirmed Ashurnasirpal’s authority as high priest and King of Assyria.
In Tibetan Buddhism, the mandala is a very powerful symbol. The process of making the mandala is a form of meditation and act of faith in itself. The slow, meticulous work that is required to create a mandala reinforces the Buddhist belief of emptying one’s mind and being in the present. A sand mandala becomes a visual symbol that is beautiful in its conception, composition, color, surface texture, imagery, and intricate details.
The façade formed one-third of a formal entrance to the king’s palace. Because this entryway faced the street and would be seen by many people, the king would have wanted an elaborate design that would reflect his status and power. The woodworkers filled every available space with different shapes and patterns, leaving no area of the surface untouched. They probably followed the Muslim belief that no human or animal forms should be used. Instead, they used geometric and organic, or natural, forms.
Writing boxes were made to hold materials used for writing or painting pictures. Artists were often commissioned by educated men of the warrior class or their female companions. The materials within the box were used for various purposes, such as writing letters and poems, or painting pictures for friends on special occasions.
Davis began making paintings of stripes in the late-fifties, when much of painting was created with expressive gestures like flinging and dripping. He made crisp, hard-edged paintings, which he purposefully made as neat as possible by using masking tape. “It was like a breath of fresh air,” said Davis, describing how his straight-and-narrow color bands forged a new artistic direction in an art scene dominated by “messy” paintings.
In 1999, museum director Lewis Sharp and then-mayor Wellington Webb decided it was time for the museum to expand. A new building would allow the DAM to display more of its world-class collection and provide the space needed to host major traveling exhibitions.
Ruscha has incorporated land formations and popular icons that dot the American landscape into much of his work. Often, Ruscha pushes the landscape to the background to make way for words, which are also prominent in his work. “Paintings of words can be clearer to see when there is an anonymous backdrop…And so there’s a landscape that’s a background, but I don’t see it. It’s almost not there. It’s just something to put words on,” says Ruscha.
Better Homes, Better Gardens is part of a series of paintings that Marshall calls the “Garden Project.” The paintings in this series portray scenes that suggest the complexity of life in low-income housing projects. They are rich in references to art history, social history, and Marshall’s own personal history. According to Marshall, these paintings are “loaded with contradictions. That’s what makes work exciting.”