letter from washington
Jul. 13th, 2007 09:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
adrian_turtleStephen dropped me off at the subway station, so I could go in to downtown DC while he was at the office. He made sure I had my lunch and a transit pass, and warned me, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." That's such strange advice.
It turns out that Stephen likes art galleries, but he would never have spent a whole day in a portrait gallery. At first I went in for the air conditioning and a quick look around, but I was really fascinated. I was expecting it to be pictures of presidents, because that's the room I've seen photographed. I did eventually see that room, and it was more impressive than I'd thought. I know what most of the presidents looked like, and I didn't think I cared what Fillmore looked like...what amazed me was the change in style of portraiture. What was considered appropriate for a president to look like in 1955? (Why does President Eisenhower look so much younger and more handsome than the portraits of General Eisenhower downstairs? He can't possibly have *been* younger?) How was it different from appropriate presidential style in 1815?
Long before I got to that room, I was struck by the different kinds of people being painted as beautiful or significant or respected. Some of them were good-looking, but a remarkable number were plain or ugly. I'll post later about the implications of that, but I spent a lot of time working them out. It's so contrary to all the values I've been taught that it's really overwhelming.
Shortly before she retired from the Supreme Court, Sandra Day O'Conner spent a day posing for pictures. She sat there, and 25 different artists drew, or painted, or otherwise looked at her and made art. Now the portrait gallery has a roomful of pictures of her, and they are SO different it's kind of scary. They're not just pictures of an old woman with white hair and a serious expression, in a judge robe and sparkly earrings. Sometimes she looks like an angel. Or like the artist's favorite grandmother, looking thoughtful and tender. Sometimes she looks like a monster, disfigured by old age. Sometimes she's sneering, or scowling. Having all the examples next to each other was really powerful.
There was a quilt in another section of the gallery, with a portrait drawn on the center of the quilt and lettering around the edge that included, "The master's tools will never dismantle the master's house." I had never heard of that line from Audre Lorde until this spring, when it was referred to in the context of a Wiscon panel called, "But the Master has a Black and Decker Cordless Drill." (Not knowing the context Lorde had intended, I thought it referred to use of media to work for revolution or against patriarchy.) In the context of mutinies and slave rebellion, I thought the most effective approach, historically, was to steal the masters' tools and use them to undermine their power. It's so easy to make someone look hideous, or just untrustworthy. It was really obvious with the paintings, but skilled photographers can introduce almost as much bias with lighting and camera angles, and it's not as obvious to the observer.
It feels weird for me to be discovering this kind of thing for the first time, because my school tried to teach me something about art when I was 17. But looking at pictures like this is different than looking at flickery slides. I can *see* them. And I don't think my teacher talked about faces.
It turns out that Stephen likes art galleries, but he would never have spent a whole day in a portrait gallery. At first I went in for the air conditioning and a quick look around, but I was really fascinated. I was expecting it to be pictures of presidents, because that's the room I've seen photographed. I did eventually see that room, and it was more impressive than I'd thought. I know what most of the presidents looked like, and I didn't think I cared what Fillmore looked like...what amazed me was the change in style of portraiture. What was considered appropriate for a president to look like in 1955? (Why does President Eisenhower look so much younger and more handsome than the portraits of General Eisenhower downstairs? He can't possibly have *been* younger?) How was it different from appropriate presidential style in 1815?
Long before I got to that room, I was struck by the different kinds of people being painted as beautiful or significant or respected. Some of them were good-looking, but a remarkable number were plain or ugly. I'll post later about the implications of that, but I spent a lot of time working them out. It's so contrary to all the values I've been taught that it's really overwhelming.
Shortly before she retired from the Supreme Court, Sandra Day O'Conner spent a day posing for pictures. She sat there, and 25 different artists drew, or painted, or otherwise looked at her and made art. Now the portrait gallery has a roomful of pictures of her, and they are SO different it's kind of scary. They're not just pictures of an old woman with white hair and a serious expression, in a judge robe and sparkly earrings. Sometimes she looks like an angel. Or like the artist's favorite grandmother, looking thoughtful and tender. Sometimes she looks like a monster, disfigured by old age. Sometimes she's sneering, or scowling. Having all the examples next to each other was really powerful.
There was a quilt in another section of the gallery, with a portrait drawn on the center of the quilt and lettering around the edge that included, "The master's tools will never dismantle the master's house." I had never heard of that line from Audre Lorde until this spring, when it was referred to in the context of a Wiscon panel called, "But the Master has a Black and Decker Cordless Drill." (Not knowing the context Lorde had intended, I thought it referred to use of media to work for revolution or against patriarchy.) In the context of mutinies and slave rebellion, I thought the most effective approach, historically, was to steal the masters' tools and use them to undermine their power. It's so easy to make someone look hideous, or just untrustworthy. It was really obvious with the paintings, but skilled photographers can introduce almost as much bias with lighting and camera angles, and it's not as obvious to the observer.
It feels weird for me to be discovering this kind of thing for the first time, because my school tried to teach me something about art when I was 17. But looking at pictures like this is different than looking at flickery slides. I can *see* them. And I don't think my teacher talked about faces.
