a mirror-lined nursery

While most internet wags are spoofing or critiquing the upcoming April cover of Vogue magazine, featuring Kanye West and Kim Kardashian, another photo, released from the shoot, taken by Annie Leibovitz, has caught my eye. It is a pseudo-candid taken in their baby girl North's nursery, with both mama and papa unable to pry themselves away from digital camera screens.

There is so much to ponder in this photo.

Wall-to-wall white and mirrors for a baby's room?

One tweet that has gone viral posed the question — why isn't Kanye reflected in any of the many floor-to-ceiling mirrors? Is he a vampire? It's impossible to tell from all of the artificial lighting what time of day it really is in the photo.

The baby is cute.

This photo and its screens within screens make me think of these paintings by Diego Velázquez:

Diego Velázquez,  "Rokeby Venus [Venus at her Mirror]," c. 1647–51, National Gallery, London.

Diego Velázquez, "Las Meninas [The Maids of Honour]," 1656, Museo del Prado, Madrid.

Vogue (and America) celebrates celebrity and wealth, and this picture is just an illustration, maybe the ultimate representation, of that. What bothers me the most, however, is the complete absence of joy in the photo. Velázquez, in "Las Meninas," may look a little burnt-out, but there is life and action in his depiction of the Spanish royal family. His "Rokeby Venus" may be vain, but Cupid loves her, and she seems comfortable and happy. Why are Kim and Kanye, in their Givenchy fox stole and Balmain tee, so somber and serious? Life at the top seems closed off and not too much fun, with too many screens and other reflective surfaces.

las meninas redux

This photograph reminds me of Velasquez's masterpiece, Las Meninas. Especially the capturing of my grandmother in the mirror. I assume the photo was taken by my grandfather, John Angelo. It's a photo of their first born, John Massimo, my uncle, in his grandfather's apartment on 14th Street, New York City.

I've always been a huge fan of this painting, but it took special importance to me after reading Foucault's brilliant essay. Foucault, Velasquez and the painterly quality of this photograph rock.

Mirrors, windows and walls.

very fine arts

We spent a very museum day in this rainy town of mourning. Ted's funeral procession passed by our hotel on Tremont Street.

We cabbed our way through the wet streets, first to

the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, which was a little like the Frick or the Barnes Foundation—an incredible house, with the proviso that the collection always be displayed exactly as Mrs. Gardner originally laid it out. This made some works difficult to see, and included oddities like the empty frames where canvases that had been stolen were left hanging ion their original spots on the walls.

No photography was allowed unfortunately, so you will just have to take my word for it that the collection included the best Veronese ceiling painting that can be seen outside of Italy. What a treat.

We pushed onward to the Museum of Fine Arts, where we raced through treasures including Italian renaissance, Spanish masters Velasquez and Zurbarán, Impressionist gems by Degas, Monet and Manet, Greek, Roman and Egyptian art—and these are just the highlights. I had as much fun checking out these masterworks as I did playing with my iPhone camera special effects. A damp but good day.

mirrors, windows and walls

I like Spanish painting, but don't love it. Italian Renaissance painting, ancient Egyptian wall painting or a Degas drawing is more my style. But there is no denying that Velasquez's Las Meninas is probably one of the greatest works of art. Ever. And when I was in art school, Michel Foucault's analysis of this masterpiece in The Order of Things (Les Mots et les choses) really made me think about Painting with a capital P and whether I wanted to make paintings that work as mirrors, windows or walls (Van Dyck, Matisse or Marden, for example.) Foucault was hardly alone in trying to work out all the ins and outs of Las Meninas. There are plenty of theories. For me, the fact that I can still go back to Las Meninas after all these years and want to look longer, deeper, is what makes this painting, and art, so essential.