Isamu NoguchiPeking Drawing {Man Reclining} (1930)

The longer I spend as an art nerd obsessing, the more I am becoming aware of this sort of feeling halfway between déjà vu and jamais vu–seeing something that is at once something you swear you’ve seen before while at the same time feeling certain that what you are looking at is entirely unfamiliar.

It’s the feeling I had upon seeing this–though the name Isamu Noguchi meant nothing to me. Turns out he was a sculptor and designer. He designed the Red Cube sculpture across from Zuccotti Park and produced the sets for several Martha Graham’s productions. (As a side note: I think one thing that is sorely overlooked in modern education with regards to creative practice is the value of relationships. Even in the times before the advent of the internet, email and social media, the artists that we are still enamored with today almost all maintained expansive written correspondence with a cohort of folks with similar interests, sensitivities and aesthetic preoccupations. I am at a point in my own creative development where I’m realizing that this is something my practice is sorely lacking.)

But–the reason I had that feeling of both the foreign and familiar with this drawing has to do with the thing that Noguchi is arguably most well known for: designing furniture.

He worked with Charles Eames and several other prominent designers to create items for Herman Miller. The so-called Noguchi table came out of this collaboration and remains one of the most popular pieces of furniture ever manufactured.

Even though I didn’t realize they were called Noguchi table’s, my nesting instinct–which I struggle to never indulge–has had a jonesing for such a table for years now. (Further now that I’ve realized the connection, it’s fun to see the heavier lines in the drawing above as echoing the wooden supports for the table.

Witchoria – Cancel from Human Error series (2016)

What else is going on
right this minute while ground water creeps under my feet? The galaxy is
careening in a slow, muffled widening. If a million solar systems are
born every hour, then surely hundreds burst into being as I shift my
weight to the other elbow. The sun’s surface is now exploding; other
stars implode and vanish, heavy and black, out of sight. Meteorites are
arcing to earth invisibly all day long. On the planet the winds are
blowing: the polar easterlies, the westerlies, the northeast and
southeast trades. Somewhere, someone under full sail is becalmed, in the
horse latitudes, in the doldrums; in the northland, a trapper is
maddened, crazed, by the eerie scent of the chinook, the sweater, a wind
that can melt two feet of snow in a day. The pampero blows, and the
tramontane, and the Boro, sirocco, levanter, mistral. Lick a finger:
feel the now
. [Ed: emphasis added.]           
               
                   —excerpt from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dillard (via house-of-fortitude)                

Hans BellmerDe Sade Corselet (1950)

Wieland Schmied aptly states that ‘for Bellmer, the realm of Eros and
its artistic renditions provided the only possible rebellion against a
world careering
[sic] down a false trail by its reliance on rationalism and
causality
. His work and beliefs revolted against an existence that
struggled under the oppression of reason. As he himself explained, “If
the origin of my work is scandalous, it is because, for me, the world is
a scandal”. In a life constrained by prejudices and prohibitions,
erotic experience in the realm of art became an outlet of unconditional
truth
. If Paul Cézanne claimed that art is a harmony parallel to nature,
Bellmer exceeded him with a more radical epigram: art is a revolt
parallel to eroticism
’ (ibid., p. 24). The clean, controlled,
and minutely executed lines constituting the shape of the corset, an
emblem of female subjugation and heavy with erotic associations, almost
hypnotise the viewer through movement and transition. Bellmer departs
from the imagery of a restricting corset, exploring the boundaries of
the theme by contradicting its original function as an object through
its blown-up form. With a Minimalist twist, Bellmer seems to prefigure
the popular Op-Art of the Sixties and sexual undertones in which he
successfully reveals ’the desires of Eros as a parable of creativity’ (ibid.).

–exceprt from the Sotheby’s catalog note on the work [emphasis added]