Member 83
49 entries

Xárene Eskandar
Los Angeles, US
Immortal since Apr 4, 2007
Uplinks: 0, Generation 1

Atelier XE
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    I've been teaching non-art/design undergrads for a few years and the one question I get every single year, innocently, is "What is art?" My responses have been philosophical and abstract, probably leaving them as baffled as before they asked the fateful question. In a way, I avoided answering the Question. This year, I've found an answer: Sergei Parajanov's The Color of Pomegranates (1968). The film is sublime. It is the perfection of poetry, composition, form, texture, and color. Most importantly, as a response to the Question, it is tangible because it is sensual, and it is politically contextualized, which makes it profoundly emotional (a bit more difficult for younger generations to grasp, but dramatic nonetheless).

    Parajanov paid for his films with his life. Read this again. Parajanov paid for his films with his life. What is art but that which is lived? Who is an artist but one who commits to his/her vision in face of imprisonment, torture and death? Who is an artist but one who makes the ultimate sacrifice to say and make what needs to be said and made? I am crying. No, weeping. Is it for the loss of artists like Parajanov? Is it that we live in a world that violently, both makes and kills beauty? Maybe it's for myself because if Sayat Nova and its becoming art are what art is, I don't have the guts to make art.

    Comments welcome on how you have responded to this question.
    Wed, Jun 22, 2011  Permanent link
    Categories: rant art Parajanov
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