To most of my friends’ knowledge—and horror—I have a thing with art history. But declaring art history as my minor in college was probably the best thing ever. Most of the art professors I’ve had in college and the art teachers in elementary, middle and high school were quite inspiring and thought-provoking with what they taught me. I still remember a teacher who praised me to other teachers for my pastel drawing of horses and had me submit it in a contest during 1st grade… and was subsequently sad when I told her I didn’t want to pursue art. Oh, colorful childhood memories.
However, art has still been a wonderful pastime for me. I love visiting museums and galleries and special exhibits. It’s even better that I actually know what the heck I’m viewing. So I bring your attention to Nan Goldin. I’ve been taking history of photography for my last minor course this semester, and I was introduced to this photographer in my last class. For the first time, I felt a connection to this photographer. She shoots her own life and her friends and family during the AIDS epidemic in NYC. She was very close with the gay community and documented how AIDS affects everyone. Photography can be very technical, but her photographs made me feel something when I looked at her prints. It’s probably because I had similar experiences and could relate a bit to her so it’s quite subjective to who is viewing the photos (which art always is), but she really stood out to me amongst the other photographers I’ve been learning about. Below is a few of her photos; most which came from her photobook, The Ballad of Sexual Dependency, hence the title. Please enjoy.
Heart-Shaped Bruise (NYC, 1980)
Nan and Brian in Bed (NYC, 1983)
The Hug (NYC, 1980)
PS. I’ve linked the photos to their corresponding sites in the Met’s collections where I got the photos. I’m not sure if the photographs are on display at the museum, but if it is, go see them!
24 hours of happy. 24 hours of Pharrell <3 <3 <3
His voice. The acoustics. The lyrics. Everything is perfect.
It appears it was only my wishful thinking when I believed we could remain close friends. Sorry for being hopeful.