Sunday, 19 April 2020

Art of Native America: The Charles and Valerie Diker Collection · The Met Museum

The cover of Art of Native America: The Charles and Valerie Diker Collection, published by The Met · Books & Latte


Inspired by my studies, I chose the cover of Art of Native America: The Charles and Valerie Diker Collection (2018) for this first blog entry in weeks. On this term, I took a course called 'Museums and Society: The Circus of Death?' in which we read about indigenous peoples, about museum work in the Native American communities of Hopi and Zuni, to name a few. Apart from reading textbooks and academic articles, I viewed conservation material on various museum websites and through my search I discovered this stunning publication by The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Charles and Valerie Diker Collection includes objects from more than fifty cultures across North America, spanning the era from before the European settlers to the early 20th century. The book provides insights into the art, culture, and daily life of indigenous communities.

Jacket illustration: a tunic and leggings detail by a Tlingit artist.

Art of Native America: The Charles and Valerie Diker Collection
By Gaylord Torrence with Ned Blackhawk and Sylvia Yount
Hardback, 232 pages, illustrated
ISBN: 9781588396624
Metropolitan Museum of Art


A detail of a man's coat, ca. 1820, Innu (Naskapi), Native American/The Met
A man's coat, ca. 1820, Innu (Naskapi), Native American/The Met

A detail of a man's coat, ca. 1820, Innu (Naskapi), Native American/The Met
Man's coat, ca. 1820, Innu (Naskapi), Native American/The Met

In December when I shared my first book cover entry I honestly thought I could use this category to keep my blog alive during my studies. I have come to realise it's impossible to do so when dealing with endless assignment deadlines on top of getting through the reading material for each lecture. There are periods when it feels as if one hardly comes up for air.

The cover of Museum as Process, edited by Raymond A. Silverman · Lisa Stefan

It has been a strange term because of the coronavirus pandemic. The term is almost over and here in Austria, they have started to loosen the lockdown. Unfortunately, museums are still closed so my hopes of working as an intern this summer are gone. But the good news is that no one close to me has been infected by COVID-19 and I hope the same goes for my blog readers. Stay safe!

bottom image by me, appeared on Instagram 14/01/2020 | Tailored garment via The Met



Saturday, 25 January 2020

Genius and Ink: Virginia Woolf on How to Read

The cover of Genius and Ink: Virginia Woolf on How to Read (TLS Books) · Books & Latte


If you ask me, this is one of the best 2019 covers. Minimalist, yet catchy (the background is lighter than depicted above). Genius and Ink: Virginia Woolf on How to Read was published by TLS Books, a new imprint launched last year. TLS stands for the Times Literary Supplement, a weekly literary review that first came out in 1902. Virginia Woolf wrote for the TLS and here we have fourteen critical essays written from 1916 to 1935. The book appeared on my latest reading list and was a pleasure to read.

Genius and Ink: Virginia Woolf on How to Read
Hardback, 256 pages, illustrated
ISBN: 9780008355722
TLS Books

Genius and Ink: Virginia Woolf on How to Read (TLS Books) · Lisa Stefan
Genius and Ink appeared on my № 22 reading list / Instagram, 17/12/2019

It so happens that Virginia Woolf was born on this day in 1882, in her childhood home at 22 Hyde Park Gate, Kensington, London. Her first novel, The Voyage Out, was published in 1915.



Friday, 10 January 2020

Reading journal: Whitehead, Baldwin & Brecht

Coffee and Brecht; notes from my reading journal · Lisa Stefan


School has started and I'm easing into the term, still taking moments every day to read the books on my latest reading list before the workload increases and deadlines take over. I have finished Patti Smith's Year of the Monkey which, for me, never quite took off, if we can use that phrase for a melancholy memoir that is partly about loss. The presence of the late Sam Shepard on the pages saves it. I'm a fan of Patti's writing, of her 'writing about nothing', as she explains in the book M Train, but here something is missing. The book has been praised but descriptions of dreams and diner food just didn't work for me. I wish she had waited and written about her trip to Australia the year after (among the many photos in the book is one she took of Uluru/Ayers Rock), but then the book would have had a different title.

Let us move on to the reading journal, the last entry for the 2017 reading lists. I know, I know, we have been through this.

Reading journal, № 13 reading list, 3 of 4:

· The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead. This novel won both the 2017 Pulitzer Prize and the 2016 National Book Award for fiction, and in 2016 it was Oprah's Book Club pick. Perhaps this has done it some disservice because readers probably expect a literary masterpiece. Despite the grave subject matter, slavery, it's very readable, and I find my mind going back to it. To the story itself, not its characters. My only quibble over the novel was the characterisation, which I didn't find particularly strong. The main character, Cora, didn't make a great impression on me but what has stayed with me is that her story is the story of too many. The title refers to the network of secret routes to help slaves escape to the free states. However, Whitehead uses magical realism and gives it a physical form, which I thought would bother me, but didn't. I haven't read any of his other books but intend to, definitely. He's a good storyteller.

· Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin. I wanted to like this book more than I did. Don't get me wrong, I liked it but I didn't love it. The Giovanni character annoyed me (although I did sympathise with him in the end) and I didn't believe that someone like David would fall for someone like Giovanni. This scene, though, has stayed with me, the night they meet at a bar in 1950s Paris:
And he took his round metal tray and moved out into the crowd. I watched him as he moved. And then I watched their faces, watching him. And then I was afraid. I knew that they were watching, had been watching both of us. They knew that they had witnessed a beginning and now they would not cease to watch until they saw the end.
This was my second book by Baldwin (I have since read more) but the first one I read, Another Country, remains my favourite.

· Der Gute Mensch von Sezuan by Bertolt Brecht. This play was the first German text I read after the move to Germany in 2017, an attempt to reclaim some of my vocabulary (there was a time when I read novels in German effortlessly). I didn't get every word but I got the meaning and enjoyed the play, which is set in China. It's a parable play about three gods that come down to earth to find one good person. The prostitute Shen Te is the only person who takes them in when they need a place to stay. Consequently, she gives up her profession and buys a tobacco shop for money they give her. Trying to be good in a corrupt world becomes difficult and she invents an alter ego, her cousin Shui Ta, to be able to run her business. In 1933 Brecht left Nazi Germany and this is one of the many plays he wrote in exile during World War II. His next play on my list is Mutter Courage und ihre Kinder (Mother Courage and Her Children).

image by me, appeared on Instagram 11/11/2017