This year the Library launched a circulating collection of zines, the seeds of which were donated to the Library through the generosity of Boxcar Books. This collection continues to grow through purchases and donations and is now comprised of almost 400 titles.
Picture books are often children's first exposure to art. As galleries of artists' work—all within the pages of books—they reflect the vast variety of art mediums we find in museums. Some artists create with real-world materials like paint and pencils; others make collage or etchings. Some even work in virtual media like computer graphics, and, of course, some use a combination of tools and methods.
Ever since Salvador Dalí broke the window at Bonwit Teller in New York City and came sliding out onto Fifth Avenue in a bathtub, America has equated his fantastic art with surrealism. In fact, surrealism began as a literary movement—its visual art was an afterthought, a depiction of a world already described by words.
"Beautiful like the chance meeting on a dissection table of a sewing machine and an umbrella." —Compte de Lautréamont
Is it possible for an art movement to be anti-art? What would such a movement (anti-movement?) even look like? For the founders of DADA, which grew out of the aftermath of World War I in Europe, the answer is disruption—of society, of culture, and of art itself.
When the Library introduced a virtual reality console to its Digital Creativity Center last year, Jeannette Lehr wanted to do more than just demonstrate its entertainment value.
This week in our preschool arts program, Little Makers, we did two projects to help us celebrate and appreciate nature for Earth Day! First, we created nature journals by punching holes into paper and practiced our fine motor skills to string yarn through the holes. Then, we used markers to decorate and name our nature journals.
Here in the Children’s area, I have the privilege of working with caregivers, parents, and children almost every Tuesday at a program called Little Makers. This is an arts-based program where we strive to engage children and their caregivers with open-ended projects that support early literacy skills, an inquiry-based learning style and foster creativity. This week we did pasta painting and used pasta noodles in exchange for paint brushes!
Do you believe creative artists should be disciplined? Honor routines? Sit (or stand) at their desks, go to their studio every day? Or do you think they should be free spirits? Explore the world? Pound the pavements; hike in the woods? Visit coffee shops and saloons and meet people? Write or paint or compose as the feeling strikes them? Perhaps after delving into this book of 161 summaries of artists’ routines, you will change your mind.
It’s surprising how many of these creative spirits rise at sunbreak and commence work quickly. This book gets into the nitty gritty. Did you know that Beethoven made his own coffee every day? He routinely counted out sixty coffee beans. He also loved to bathe before a sink, splashing pitchers full of water over himself, but unfortunately, this water spilled on the floor and dribbled downstairs to his landlord’s place, forcing the owner to put a concrete base under the great composer’s sink. The esteemed composer’s servants also had a laugh-fest each time he bathed because he did so while “bellowing up and down the scales.”
“Bad artists copy, good artists steal.” Toward the end of this novel, Hobie, the elder painter of masterpiece copies, says this to Theo, his sorta-kinda adopted son. Is it ironic that Theo has stolen a famous painting, The Goldfinch? This long, convoluted, powerful novel tells the story of a young boy whose life was transformed at age 13 by this random act.
And a random bombing in the art galleries of New York’s Metropolitan Museum that killed his mother. Theo’s mom had left him to buy a present in the museum store when the bombing happened. After the blast, Theo crawls amid bodies on the floor to find one older man alive. With some of his last breaths, the man points to the painting and says, “I beg of you.” Theo interprets this as a plea to rescue it. The dying man Welty also gives the boy an elaborate ring and the name of a business in Manhattan: Hobart and Blackwell. “Ring the green bell.”
Thus begins the travels/travails of Theo. His dad, an alcoholic is alive, but in no shape to care for him. Ditto for his one surviving grandparent.