The Daily

Posts Tagged ‘landscape’

Jane Wilson, 1924–2015

January 15, 2015 | by

Jane Wilson, Frozen Fields, 2004, oil on linen, 30 x 36 inches. Courtesy of DC Moore Gallery, New York.

Jane Wilson, Frozen Fields, 2004, oil on linen, 30" x 36". Courtesy of DC Moore Gallery, New York.

Last month, I got a peek at a private collection of work by the painter Jane Wilson. Tucked away in a Midtown East town-house office are a handful of her diminutive watercolors and a very large oil painting depicting one of Wilson’s characteristic landscapes—a sweeping, hazy view of a sliver of land and a limitless sky.

Last fall, I saw a host of such paintings in Wilson’s show at DC Moore Gallery. Yet there’s a difference between admiring her evocative landscapes—or, more precisely, skyscapes—in a gallery setting and discovering them in a secret spot, where, I imagine, they exist for their owner as a private portal, an escape—out of the office, out of the city, out of one’s own life. Imagine sitting in a darkened, quiet office and looking up at Wilson’s plush, golden altocumulus clouds or at the purple and blue striations of storm clouds over a teal sky or at the dappled, cobalt blue of twilight. Where couldn’t you go? Read More »

NO COMMENTS

Portfolio: The Moors of Chicago

June 26, 2012 | by

4 COMMENTS

TPR vs. The Nation; or, The Evening Redness in Lower Manhattan

June 18, 2012 | by

Team    |1|2|3|4|5|6|7   Total

TPR     |0|0|3|0|0|1|0    4
NAT     |5|0|0|0|4|0|X    9


Within the first minute the slaughter had become general. —Blood Meridian


Themes found in Cormac McCarthy’s grotesque 1985 masterpiece, Blood Meridian, hereby presented in descending order relative to how closely they can be applied to a postgame dissection of last week’s softball game against The Nation:

1. Destruction, Chaos
Blood Meridian is essentially a chronicle of destruction, a hurricane of terrible things like knives and guns and dead babies. This game, while not a massacre of flesh, was nonetheless a massacre (maybe of the human spirit?). From the onset, our side played a sloppy game; a slew of early errors gave The Nation a first-inning lead they would not relinquish. Like in the novel, the slaughter was complete; unlike in the novel, it was mostly self-inflicted.

Read More »

NO COMMENTS