I’m listening to the Robert Fagles translation of the Odyssey, read by Ian Mckellen. It’s so wonderful, a great gift to hear it. However. Where is the song of Penelope? What are her thoughts and griefs and, what one would assume, maddening rage at her loss and the continued violation of her home and treasure? There need to be more songs from Penelope in this world.
October 16, 2014
I just opened the current issue of the New Yorker. Two pages in and what do I find? An advertisement for Louis Vuitton in which the greatly influential (and I’m assuming, absurdly rich) artist Cindy Sherman is hawking the company wares. Why? I know we live in an era in which there hardly remains any concept of “selling out,” but….. really, Cindy? She changed the landscape of the art world with her shifting images of changing identities, all created with her own body. She wields remarkable power. And commands incredible sums for her prints ($3.8 million the last I checked). Does she really need to be in league with Vuitton? The increasing blur between art and fashion is diluting and cheapening the former, while doing nothing to increase the creative vibrancy of the latter.
October 18, 2014