Brassai, Arbus and Another

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We were at the Museum of Contemporary Art, not modern art as in a previous post. I suppose contemporary adds something to the name.

It’s like we were told by our guide in the Broad that “we don’t say graffiti we say street art”, she at least said it with a twinkle in her eye. Why use just one word when two or more will do.

Over here if you go riding a horse it’s called “horse back riding”, as if you could ride any other part of the horse.

I digress. Whilst at the Museum we took in a temporary exhibition featuring three photographers. Brassai, Diane Arbus and another.

I’m not that familiar with Brassai’s work or him, but I found his work just stunning. Brilliantly capturing a part of Paris and the life there that lasted just a few years. The real people. The one above is a gang, looking quite respectable really with their natty hats. It is said that Brassai set up the shots, well why not? The one below is quite iconic, with a real story to tell. The people were real enough, he just got them in the right place. Worth seeing his work and learning more about him from the link below. Brassai

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Diane Arbus

Quite a different kettle of fish in some respects. Diane Arbus’s work is again of the real people but she has a knack of choosing either unfortunate people and making them look really rather threatening or disturbing. The second one below reflects me taking the picture of the picture, she does not look too pleased about it. I found it fascinating, but Brassai’s work was my favourite.

The other photographer’s work was of people in all sorts of distress, either taking drugs or drunk, not my cup of tea, so I can’t be arsed to tell you who it was. That’s how it made me feel.

 

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Whilst we were there, in a corner of the Museum they are restoring a Jackson Pollock painting. I’m a big fan of his work in many respects but like Rothko you really need to see the works for real. Photographs never really do them justice. A party of school kids came in whilst I was standing there and one said, pointing to the lights for the restoration: “Is that a work of art as well?”

I suppose it could have been!

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From here we go to sport!

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