“People at Work” and “The Scavengers”
I strolled in to the Oak Room Gallery as if I was trying to escape the cold air following me up the stairs. I wasn’t intending on staying for long, just a short glimpse into a world that I prayed to God I would never be a part of. I read the synopsis that was conveniently located right next to the door that was both the entrance and the exit. I ventured towards my right and didn’t move for what seemed like half an hour. What was staring at me dead in the face was a broken face of a doll, embedded in junk. I already find dolls extremely creepy, but this almost reminded me of when I went to Pompeii three years ago. You could still see where people where trying to escape, leaving their most prized possessions in the streets not realizing that they would forever be imprinted for centuries to discover in the ash and rubble that lead to their demise. I wondered who through away that doll, why it was broken, and if it was still happy; but maybe most of all if they, the other, were happy. I moved onto the next few photographs getting lost in the vibrant colors that were tainted with dirt and trash, the mounds of garbage that people where sorting through as work, and most of all the children that seem so happy. I wonder if they know that there is more out there than this, and if they do know, would they want to leave? To pity them wouldn’t be doing them justice, they don’t want that. They are like us, they simply want to be loved and to find happiness.
Leaving that gallery to the next was a blur. I had a ton of thoughts going through my brain. Had I known that this was going to be such a pensive and contemplative night I would have bought a the thinking juice- caffeine.
AHHH home again. I live in this Gallery space, hell the building in general. Guggenheim building located central campus of UNC and is home to all the art students. I call it my Anne Frank Annex. It has a certain smell about it, something I can’t describe. Anyway I walked through the back door, went up the flight of stairs and followed my feet through the entrance way of the Mariani Gallery. All Wooden walls and extreme lighting put a beautiful display of drawings, lithographs, and wood prints of people working. Primarily these works of art where done in the Great Depression and gave the viewer an inside look to the daily life not glorified by Hollywood. There were two pieces that struck my soul in a way that I cannot describe. The first one was William Schwartz’s “Miner”. Cubistic much like Picasso I got lost in the subtle details. There was a dense sadness in this man’s eyes. There is no doubt that this man is a coal miner, a traditionalist, and a victim of labor. I wanted to be in the drawing with him, playing with his mustache so that way instead of a remorseful glance a smile would cross his face. The next drawing that I fell in love with was David Fredenthal’s “Peddler”. A gestural drawing of a woman that is cheerful that almost serves as a metaphor for integrity and confidence seems to be a model for those who are looking for a sign that life will get better. I wanted to embody her eyes, her spirit, and her wrinkles.
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