This building displays such an unassailable medieval character, that it may appear as an anomaly in the middle of a modern city. Interestingly, except the sidewalk, there a no urban elements in this painting. It’s as if the artist wants to play around a little bit with the viewers, to make them doubt the depicted era. The artist often chooses subjects planned for demolition or that look like it would be the best thing for them in their current condition — this building, though seemingly firm, makes an impression of a giant rotten from the inside, ready to collapse. It’s an ugly and awkward architectural structure: only people would revivify it by their presence; there are no people, and the building remains naked in its deformity — a Quasimodo of the town’s houses. Its funny how easily the wretched image travels from Paris to Detroit.
Read the rest of this entry »
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
A heap of metal and coal, this giant machine tries to intimidate the viewer — but fails. It’s odd, but the black so totally dominating this piece emits vapors of acceptance and assimilation; its inherent neutral quality is given a free play, particularly as there are almost no brighter colors to oppose the darkness, and remind the viewer that black is… well, black. Moreover, there’s also a lot of gray, and in different values. The richness that the artist elicits from this seemingly unremarkable color is quite remarkable — at some spots it almost turns to white. It seems as though there’s warmth glimmering inside the plant, as if it had a heart and a bloodstream, as the crimson dot on top of one of the chimneys insinuates. Looking at this painting I’m thinking about Zola’s coal mines, and, not so much about the misery, but the camaraderie of the workers.
Read the rest of this entry »
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
Showing a warehouse dissected by a bridge almost inevitably alludes to the economic infrastructure of production, storage and distribution. This piece includes all of these key elements by displaying a cross section of an industrial area. The lights are on, as the windows of the building indicate — there’s some activity going on and there is money to be made; the city is alive. I think that the strange air of abandonment that is so characteristic of the artist’s work, here assumes an additional, and perhaps a contradicting meaning. This place only seems desolate because everyone is inside, we don’t see the bustle because it’s hidden by the walls, and everyone is too busy to show themselves, — and this is the antipode of dereliction. On the other hand, the windows may have been veneered, and it’s not a light that they emit, but a darkness that they cover. That way my “ghost city” thesis remains valid in its original straightforward form, though I am not sure I like it so.
Read the rest of this entry »
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
Stephen Magsig’s urban scenes share one common feature: despite the realism, they possess an eerie atmosphere, as though inflated by foreboding whiffs of air. It’s as if these locations have just been abandoned, all the people being forced to evacuate the setting by a fire alarm; Stephen follows, and documents what has been left behind. Perhaps, this is the characteristic mood of the city to which the painter is so dedicated — the city of Detroit. The artist strives to represent it from many angles, in various settings and different times of day, and night; he paints the downtown and the suburbia, all in the endeavor to make this representation as objective and as comprehensive as possible. Looking at his pieces one cannot but become fascinated with the city, its life and its history. Gradually, one would have to acknowledge a growing delicate sense of respect and even awe towards this industrial beast. Recognizing the artist’s intent in communicating these impressions would be the next logical step.
Read the rest of this entry »
If you enjoyed this post, make sure you subscribe to my RSS feed!
