girl outwear image
diamante
I just outwore my pair of vans, just plain black. I'm debating getting vans again or wanting to explore other brands. I'm a girl and I like to have some gangsta steez with my look but still be cute and girly.
Answer
what is a store that sells cheap clothing for school shopping?
Ashley
im going into the 10th grade and i wanna get cute stuff but not for a lot of money
Answer
Ross is a great place to shop at for cheap clothes. All there stuff is really cute too! For girls, shirts are like less than 10 dollars. I've got a lot of mine for like 5-7 dollars a piece!
Also Forever 21 is pretty cheap and SUPER cute clothes!
Platos Closets clothes sometimes seem outworn but jeans are really good to get from there!
Ross is a great place to shop at for cheap clothes. All there stuff is really cute too! For girls, shirts are like less than 10 dollars. I've got a lot of mine for like 5-7 dollars a piece!
Also Forever 21 is pretty cheap and SUPER cute clothes!
Platos Closets clothes sometimes seem outworn but jeans are really good to get from there!
What are some cool thin layered leather jackets, button and zip up?
CryingKids
Answer
if ur a girl forever 21 had awsome leatheret jackets all colors on sale for $21 and under :) i bought 2 pairs from them already for fall they are both biker style but they have many other styles (i got black and brown ) good luck if u want check the site and look in the category outwear :)
if ur a girl forever 21 had awsome leatheret jackets all colors on sale for $21 and under :) i bought 2 pairs from them already for fall they are both biker style but they have many other styles (i got black and brown ) good luck if u want check the site and look in the category outwear :)
can anyone tell me about Patrick Caulfield the artist?
funky_papa
i am researching Patrick Caulfield for my art class. i know that he does flat colors and straight, bold lines, but i really need to know more. what do his art mean? whats he trying to say? what's his philosophy? and most importantly, what media do he use? can you also tell me any other artists who do paintings of interior architecture.
Answer
Painter and printmaker of great formal and intellectual sophistication who refused to be labelled or confined by artistic fashion
THE English painter and printmaker Patrick Caulfield was one of the most admired artists of his generation, though he never achieved general celebrity status. Rare in winning the respect of artists of otherwise radically different persuasions, he transcended the usual boundaries of the art world and remained essentially uncategorisable.
At the risk of oversimplifying his appeal, it might be said that figurative painters admired his sophisticated draughtsmanship and his ability to conjure memorable images, abstract artists his formal control and inventive use of colour, minimalists his austerity and conceptualists his intellectual rigour.
Patrick Joseph Caulfield was born in London in 1936. He grew up mainly in Bolton as part of a working-class family, but after studying in London at the Chelsea School of Art (1956-60) and the Royal College of Art (1960-63) he seemed the perfect example of the urban sophisticate. He admitted late in life to having had elocution lessons in his youth, thinking, probably correctly, that this would improve his chances with the girls.
From the start, the urge to maintain his independence from fashion, which contributed to the enduring quality of his art, was one of Caulfieldâs most stubborn resolutions. He was reluctant to be part of any movement, even when his historical importance within it was indisputable.
This was particularly the case with Pop Art. In spite of the persistent efforts to credit him as one of the originators and leading figures of the movement in England â a recognition that most artists would have been happy to accept, whatever paths they took in their later work â he was adamant that the term was inappropriate for his art and that he was in little sympathy with much that was produced under the label. At the time of the Royal Academyâs big survey exhibition of Pop Art in 1991, in which his work featured prominently, he defined Pop Art flippantly as âsocial realism without the realismâ.
The fact remains, however, that he was seen to be aligned as a student with other painters who were at the Royal College in the early 1960s, in particular those who were a year ahead of him, such as David Hockney, R. B. Kitaj, Peter Phillips and Allen Jones. Some of the last works he produced as a student in 1963, such as Greece Expiring on the Ruins of Missolonghi, after Delacroix, painted in the flat declamatory style of political posters, and Portrait of Juan Gris, a deadpan homage to the Cubist master in a sign-painterâs idiom, are widely regarded as prime examples of early British Pop.
Caulfield preferred to treat outworn Romantic themes rather than applying himself to the signs of contemporary culture, and he subscribed with an almost absurd fidelity to the conventional categories of still life, interior, landscape and figure painting. He cited these things in support of his contention that his work was not only not Pop, but anti-Pop.
Like his more overtly Pop colleagues, however, he delighted in challenging notions of good taste, in his case by embracing kitsch and banal imagery and sometimes outrageously corny subject matter. He had an unusual ability to convey a contemplative mood and a wry sense of humour through a single image, both in his paintings and in the elegantly economical screen prints that brought his work into contact with a much broader audience.
There is a pervasive melancholia running through the paintings of architectural subjects that became the mainstay of Caulfieldâs art from the late 1960s, in terms both of their imagery and their use of colour to project a palpable sense of atmosphere, creating a strong emotional current in opposition to the apparent neutrality and calculation of his style of painting.
Many of the pictures convey a sense of desolation, because they represent empty spaces intended for human pleasures and activities â a restaurant after closing time, an office at night, a holiday home with no sign of human habitation â or of exclusion, as in Window at Night of 1969, in which we are offered a tantalising glimpse into a glowingly lit interior as if viewed in passing from the street below.
We are constantly reminded through such devices as flat areas of colour and black outlines that what we are looking at is an artificial construction, an invented image, but Caulfieldâs habit of representing the objects in his paintings and the rooms themselves at their actual size gives them an authority and presence that allows us at the same time to believe in their reality.
An intensely reserved and introspective man, Caulfield nevertheless had a great desire for social interaction and companionship. Restaurants and pubs held far more attractions for him than the studio, where he seemed to suffer in a particularly acute form from the anxieties of the creative life. In the 1980s and 1990s he rarely produced more than two or three paintings and a handful of prints in the course of a year; yet however small his output, his perfectionism and refusal to repeat himself ensured that his work was of a uniformly high standard.
Caulfieldâs preference, especially in later years, for images of conviviality combining bright colours and decorative schemes with an austere and aloof visual language was very much in line with the contrary impulses that also motivated him outside the studio. He wished to exclude himself as far as possible from his art, making it as apparently objective, dispassionate and anonymous as the work of the 20th-century artists whom he most admired, such as that of Fernand Léger and Juan Gris. Nevertheless his paintings inevitably (and despite his protestations to the contrary) had much in common with his personality. Even his professed desire to escape from his own subjectivity was, in itself, the very mark of that temperament.
During the 1980s Caulfield began extending his language beyond his paintings and prints in response to numerous commissions. These included a mural-scaled 6.5 x 6.5 metre painting for the headquarters of the London Life Association in Bristol; set and costume designs for Covent Garden (Michael Corderâs new ballet, Party Game, 1984, and a new production of Sir Frederic Ashtonâs Rhapsody in 1995); a stained glass window, visible from both the inside and the outside, for the Ivy Restaurant in 1990; an enormous carpet for the atrium of the British Councilâs short-term Manchester headquarters (1991-92); a ceramic mosaic for the National Museums and Galleries of Wales (1994); a tapestry based on Laurence Sterneâs Tristram Shandy, conceived as a maquette in 1994 but still unrealised at the time of his death, for the new British Library; mosaics for the Arco di Travertino station in the Rome metro (2001); and a pair of large paintings for the doors of the new Great West Organ at Portsmouth Cathedral (2001).
Caulfieldâs one-man show at the Waddington Galleries, London, in 1997 â consisting of seven large-scale and meticulously painted interiors, all purchased by Charles Saatchi in advance of the opening â revealed a new depth in the pictorial ambiguities and spatial complexity of his picture-making. Although he was faithful to the end to his subject matter of bars and restaurants, he exposed his vulnerability in these paintings with a poignant honesty that made them among his greatest and most haunting works.
Behind the confident façade of his hard-edged figurative style lay a kind of despair and sadness that he no longer made any real attempt to conceal. Yet his paintings and prints were also consistently concerned with the search for pleasure, sensuousness, beauty and human interaction: they are also among the most drily humorous paintings in 20th-century art.
All these aspects were expressed with particular clarity in Hemingway Never Ate Here, which he produced in 1999 for an exhibition called Encounters: New Art from Old at the National Gallery in London. Caulfield took the brief as an opportunity to take possession of the galleryâs tiny, easily overlooked but immaculate Zurbarán still life, and to place it within a bar interior painted apple-green: the trophy bullâs head mounted on the wall, which he painted from the object itself, represents both a knowingly corny Spanish accent and the American novelistâs passion for this blood sport. The title came from a restaurant sign that had made him laugh on a visit to Madrid on the occasion of the wedding of one of his sons: where every other eating establishment in the vicinity seemed to claim a link with Ernest Hemingway, there was just one that cheerfully admitted to none.
Caulfield was found to be suffering from cancer of the mouth and tongue in November 2002, just as he was opening an exhibition at Waddington that included further magisterial paintings such as Hotel Room (2000), Reserved Table (2000) and Terrace (2002). He never recovered his health after the operation that followed. Between that operation and a second one to remove his larynx in summer 2004, leaving him permanently unable to speak, he miraculously managed to complete one last great painting, the imposing Bishops. Representing his entire output during the first half of 2004, it includes some of the most beautiful passages of precise painting of any of his works; it is a mystery how, in such a frail state, he found the energy and concentration to produce such a large and achieved picture. To everyone in his immediate circle this was a startling image about impending death and the unknowable afterlife, but the artist himself remained as wary as ever about explaining any intended meanings.
The first retrospective of Caulfieldâs paintings was held at the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, and the Tate Gallery in 1981, and in 1992 a smaller show concentrating on his work of the 1980s took place at the Serpentine Gallery in London. Abroad he continued to be little known, although his paintings were included in survey exhibitions of Pop Art and a retrospective of his screen prints was circulated around Latin America by the British Council between 1985 and 1987. Caulfield was appointed CBE in 1996.
On the strength of the 1997 Waddington show, as the culmination of 35 years of sustained inventiveness of the highest order, the British Council offered Caulfield an important retrospective, which it was decided would be presented first at the Hayward Gallery in February 1999 and then sent to Luxembourg, Lisbon and the Yale Centre for British Art. For an artist whose achievements deserved to be celebrated in New York and Paris, rather than in locations so peripheral to the international art world, it was a strangely downbeat but sadly typical way of doing him honour.
In spite of the rather quirky itinerary, the London showing â and the catalogue raisonné of his prints published at the same moment by the Alan Cristea Gallery â certainly confirmed his stature in the British art world. A sure sign of this shift in his position was the sudden and dramatic rise in his auction prices, though like most British artists of his generation he continued to suffer from critical neglect.
It is left for future generations to recognise Caulfield as one of the most original British artists of the late-20th century. Thanks to the intervention of one of his longstanding admirers, collectors and friends, the architect Sir Colin St John Wilson, the process of serious reassessment is at last under way. The first substantial monograph on Caulfieldâs work, with a collection of texts written over the years by Marco Livingstone, was published this summer by Lund Humphries.
Patrick Caulfieldâs first marriage, to Pauline Jacobs, was dissolved. He is survived by his second wife, Janet Nathan, and the three sons of his first marriage.
Patrick Caulfield, CBE, painter and printmaker, was born on January 29, 1936. He died on September 29, 2005, aged 69.
(http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,60-1805442_2,00.html)
Other links
http://www.fi.muni.cz/~toms/PopArt/Biographies/caulfield.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Caulfield
Some artworks: http://www.artnet.com/artist/3777/patrick-caulfield.html
Painter and printmaker of great formal and intellectual sophistication who refused to be labelled or confined by artistic fashion
THE English painter and printmaker Patrick Caulfield was one of the most admired artists of his generation, though he never achieved general celebrity status. Rare in winning the respect of artists of otherwise radically different persuasions, he transcended the usual boundaries of the art world and remained essentially uncategorisable.
At the risk of oversimplifying his appeal, it might be said that figurative painters admired his sophisticated draughtsmanship and his ability to conjure memorable images, abstract artists his formal control and inventive use of colour, minimalists his austerity and conceptualists his intellectual rigour.
Patrick Joseph Caulfield was born in London in 1936. He grew up mainly in Bolton as part of a working-class family, but after studying in London at the Chelsea School of Art (1956-60) and the Royal College of Art (1960-63) he seemed the perfect example of the urban sophisticate. He admitted late in life to having had elocution lessons in his youth, thinking, probably correctly, that this would improve his chances with the girls.
From the start, the urge to maintain his independence from fashion, which contributed to the enduring quality of his art, was one of Caulfieldâs most stubborn resolutions. He was reluctant to be part of any movement, even when his historical importance within it was indisputable.
This was particularly the case with Pop Art. In spite of the persistent efforts to credit him as one of the originators and leading figures of the movement in England â a recognition that most artists would have been happy to accept, whatever paths they took in their later work â he was adamant that the term was inappropriate for his art and that he was in little sympathy with much that was produced under the label. At the time of the Royal Academyâs big survey exhibition of Pop Art in 1991, in which his work featured prominently, he defined Pop Art flippantly as âsocial realism without the realismâ.
The fact remains, however, that he was seen to be aligned as a student with other painters who were at the Royal College in the early 1960s, in particular those who were a year ahead of him, such as David Hockney, R. B. Kitaj, Peter Phillips and Allen Jones. Some of the last works he produced as a student in 1963, such as Greece Expiring on the Ruins of Missolonghi, after Delacroix, painted in the flat declamatory style of political posters, and Portrait of Juan Gris, a deadpan homage to the Cubist master in a sign-painterâs idiom, are widely regarded as prime examples of early British Pop.
Caulfield preferred to treat outworn Romantic themes rather than applying himself to the signs of contemporary culture, and he subscribed with an almost absurd fidelity to the conventional categories of still life, interior, landscape and figure painting. He cited these things in support of his contention that his work was not only not Pop, but anti-Pop.
Like his more overtly Pop colleagues, however, he delighted in challenging notions of good taste, in his case by embracing kitsch and banal imagery and sometimes outrageously corny subject matter. He had an unusual ability to convey a contemplative mood and a wry sense of humour through a single image, both in his paintings and in the elegantly economical screen prints that brought his work into contact with a much broader audience.
There is a pervasive melancholia running through the paintings of architectural subjects that became the mainstay of Caulfieldâs art from the late 1960s, in terms both of their imagery and their use of colour to project a palpable sense of atmosphere, creating a strong emotional current in opposition to the apparent neutrality and calculation of his style of painting.
Many of the pictures convey a sense of desolation, because they represent empty spaces intended for human pleasures and activities â a restaurant after closing time, an office at night, a holiday home with no sign of human habitation â or of exclusion, as in Window at Night of 1969, in which we are offered a tantalising glimpse into a glowingly lit interior as if viewed in passing from the street below.
We are constantly reminded through such devices as flat areas of colour and black outlines that what we are looking at is an artificial construction, an invented image, but Caulfieldâs habit of representing the objects in his paintings and the rooms themselves at their actual size gives them an authority and presence that allows us at the same time to believe in their reality.
An intensely reserved and introspective man, Caulfield nevertheless had a great desire for social interaction and companionship. Restaurants and pubs held far more attractions for him than the studio, where he seemed to suffer in a particularly acute form from the anxieties of the creative life. In the 1980s and 1990s he rarely produced more than two or three paintings and a handful of prints in the course of a year; yet however small his output, his perfectionism and refusal to repeat himself ensured that his work was of a uniformly high standard.
Caulfieldâs preference, especially in later years, for images of conviviality combining bright colours and decorative schemes with an austere and aloof visual language was very much in line with the contrary impulses that also motivated him outside the studio. He wished to exclude himself as far as possible from his art, making it as apparently objective, dispassionate and anonymous as the work of the 20th-century artists whom he most admired, such as that of Fernand Léger and Juan Gris. Nevertheless his paintings inevitably (and despite his protestations to the contrary) had much in common with his personality. Even his professed desire to escape from his own subjectivity was, in itself, the very mark of that temperament.
During the 1980s Caulfield began extending his language beyond his paintings and prints in response to numerous commissions. These included a mural-scaled 6.5 x 6.5 metre painting for the headquarters of the London Life Association in Bristol; set and costume designs for Covent Garden (Michael Corderâs new ballet, Party Game, 1984, and a new production of Sir Frederic Ashtonâs Rhapsody in 1995); a stained glass window, visible from both the inside and the outside, for the Ivy Restaurant in 1990; an enormous carpet for the atrium of the British Councilâs short-term Manchester headquarters (1991-92); a ceramic mosaic for the National Museums and Galleries of Wales (1994); a tapestry based on Laurence Sterneâs Tristram Shandy, conceived as a maquette in 1994 but still unrealised at the time of his death, for the new British Library; mosaics for the Arco di Travertino station in the Rome metro (2001); and a pair of large paintings for the doors of the new Great West Organ at Portsmouth Cathedral (2001).
Caulfieldâs one-man show at the Waddington Galleries, London, in 1997 â consisting of seven large-scale and meticulously painted interiors, all purchased by Charles Saatchi in advance of the opening â revealed a new depth in the pictorial ambiguities and spatial complexity of his picture-making. Although he was faithful to the end to his subject matter of bars and restaurants, he exposed his vulnerability in these paintings with a poignant honesty that made them among his greatest and most haunting works.
Behind the confident façade of his hard-edged figurative style lay a kind of despair and sadness that he no longer made any real attempt to conceal. Yet his paintings and prints were also consistently concerned with the search for pleasure, sensuousness, beauty and human interaction: they are also among the most drily humorous paintings in 20th-century art.
All these aspects were expressed with particular clarity in Hemingway Never Ate Here, which he produced in 1999 for an exhibition called Encounters: New Art from Old at the National Gallery in London. Caulfield took the brief as an opportunity to take possession of the galleryâs tiny, easily overlooked but immaculate Zurbarán still life, and to place it within a bar interior painted apple-green: the trophy bullâs head mounted on the wall, which he painted from the object itself, represents both a knowingly corny Spanish accent and the American novelistâs passion for this blood sport. The title came from a restaurant sign that had made him laugh on a visit to Madrid on the occasion of the wedding of one of his sons: where every other eating establishment in the vicinity seemed to claim a link with Ernest Hemingway, there was just one that cheerfully admitted to none.
Caulfield was found to be suffering from cancer of the mouth and tongue in November 2002, just as he was opening an exhibition at Waddington that included further magisterial paintings such as Hotel Room (2000), Reserved Table (2000) and Terrace (2002). He never recovered his health after the operation that followed. Between that operation and a second one to remove his larynx in summer 2004, leaving him permanently unable to speak, he miraculously managed to complete one last great painting, the imposing Bishops. Representing his entire output during the first half of 2004, it includes some of the most beautiful passages of precise painting of any of his works; it is a mystery how, in such a frail state, he found the energy and concentration to produce such a large and achieved picture. To everyone in his immediate circle this was a startling image about impending death and the unknowable afterlife, but the artist himself remained as wary as ever about explaining any intended meanings.
The first retrospective of Caulfieldâs paintings was held at the Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool, and the Tate Gallery in 1981, and in 1992 a smaller show concentrating on his work of the 1980s took place at the Serpentine Gallery in London. Abroad he continued to be little known, although his paintings were included in survey exhibitions of Pop Art and a retrospective of his screen prints was circulated around Latin America by the British Council between 1985 and 1987. Caulfield was appointed CBE in 1996.
On the strength of the 1997 Waddington show, as the culmination of 35 years of sustained inventiveness of the highest order, the British Council offered Caulfield an important retrospective, which it was decided would be presented first at the Hayward Gallery in February 1999 and then sent to Luxembourg, Lisbon and the Yale Centre for British Art. For an artist whose achievements deserved to be celebrated in New York and Paris, rather than in locations so peripheral to the international art world, it was a strangely downbeat but sadly typical way of doing him honour.
In spite of the rather quirky itinerary, the London showing â and the catalogue raisonné of his prints published at the same moment by the Alan Cristea Gallery â certainly confirmed his stature in the British art world. A sure sign of this shift in his position was the sudden and dramatic rise in his auction prices, though like most British artists of his generation he continued to suffer from critical neglect.
It is left for future generations to recognise Caulfield as one of the most original British artists of the late-20th century. Thanks to the intervention of one of his longstanding admirers, collectors and friends, the architect Sir Colin St John Wilson, the process of serious reassessment is at last under way. The first substantial monograph on Caulfieldâs work, with a collection of texts written over the years by Marco Livingstone, was published this summer by Lund Humphries.
Patrick Caulfieldâs first marriage, to Pauline Jacobs, was dissolved. He is survived by his second wife, Janet Nathan, and the three sons of his first marriage.
Patrick Caulfield, CBE, painter and printmaker, was born on January 29, 1936. He died on September 29, 2005, aged 69.
(http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,60-1805442_2,00.html)
Other links
http://www.fi.muni.cz/~toms/PopArt/Biographies/caulfield.html
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Caulfield
Some artworks: http://www.artnet.com/artist/3777/patrick-caulfield.html
Powered By Y! Answer
No comments:
Post a Comment