Latest news with #1966
The Guardian
a day ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Abstract Erotic review – artworks as beguiling as they are compelling
Pendulous, scuttling, slapstick, sinister and ribald, Abstract Erotic revisits a moment in 1966 when the young American critic and curator Lucy Lippard brought together the work of three women in New York in a larger show of eight artists at the Fischbach Gallery then on Madison Avenue. It was originally titled Eccentric Abstraction, but the eccentrically abstract isn't nearly as sexy as the erotic – yet somehow neither title quite fits the strange and compelling sculptures and little objects, drawings and reliefs by Alice Adams, Eva Hesse and Louise Bourgeois that, even 60 years on, are as alive as ever they were. Eccentric Abstraction was the first exhibition Lippard had ever curated, and was, she said, 'an attempt to blur boundaries, in this case between minimalism and something more sensuous and sensual – that is, in retrospect, something more feminist' – although, at the time, feminism was far from her mind. The exhibition was crucial in the development of the now 88-year-old's thinking and her subsequent activism. Although many of the works here were included in the original show, this is not a thorough restaging, and all the male artists, including the then recently graduated Bruce Nauman, are absent. Eccentric Abstraction is largely remembered for the contributions the three female artists made, for the coherence of their approaches to materiality, form and artistic process, and the ways their work addressed the psychosexual and the human body. There are fewer than 30 sculptures, reliefs and drawings here, occupying two small rooms. But size isn't everything. One of the delights of this exhibition is to do with scale. Only one work is bigger than we are. Others you could put in your pocket or carry in your arms. The works of all three artists sit close to the walls, hang from the walls, dangle on wires in front of them, or sit on shelves in a vitrine, jostling in and out of view, emphasising intimacy and proximity. It is a show of close relations, filled with delicate things and enigmatic things, and things as incomprehensible as they are beguiling. It isn't all about forms directly analogous to body parts, although there are plenty of those. There is instead an unnerving slippage between the skin and the interior, between the whole and the part, just as there is between sculptural form and drawing, between object and image, threat and tenderness, familiarity and otherness. A black shape like a pear or a lightbulb, by Hesse, dangles from the wall on a string that loops around a nail to another object that just touches the pear thing. This object is like a skinny black sausage that narrows at its tip then bulges out again, like a bratwurst giving birth to a cocktail sausage. All the elements are painted with black enamel. Stark and graphic, the arrangement is funny and lewd and very satisfying to look at – reminding me, distantly, of Giacometti's 1930-31 surrealist sculpture Suspended Ball. While movements and idioms come and go, distant debts to surrealism and Freud persist. The unconscious is always with us. A steel cable passes through the holes in a perforated metal plate and gets entangled there. Another rusted steel cable is woven through a metal grid. Their relations are complicated and they ensnare me. These tensile amalgamations were the work of Adams, who first trained as a weaver and previously worked with looms and fibre. There is a direct link between her earlier textile art and these sculptures. Other, later works use chain-link fencing, and yet more lengths of springy, twisty, recalcitrant cable that could only be manipulated with difficulty. Their torsions have lives of their own, and can't be forced to follow paths they don't want to take. Adams's materials told her what could and couldn't be done. Some things twist and coil and are held in dynamic constraint. They have the brevity of a sentence but look as if they could explode. Another work – an interpenetrating conjunction of a chain-link cylinder and a rusted, woven steel cable funnel – conflates the two forms into a conundrum of interior and exterior. A bulging roll of aluminium fencing hangs like a great intestinal tract in mid-air, a huge skeletal drawing in wire, the form dramatically lit and entangled with its own shadow, which is cast on the wall just behind it. If Eccentric Abstraction seems like a long time ago, the ways the artists worked endure, in their approach to materiality, their disregard of neat divisions between abstraction and figuration, and the ways their works not only occupy space but actively inhabit it. This sensibility is still with us. If the ideas are still alive, much of the works Hesse made using hand-poured sheets of latex resin are now extremely difficult to show or to conserve, the material having darkened and become brittle by age exposure to daylight. The same is true of the sculptures Bourgeois made using latex. Several of Bourgeois's sculptures here have darkened and shrivelled, and acquired a feel of the archaeological relic, if not the fossilised. Her latex and cloth Le Regard, a kind of rounded bowl or vessel split open to reveal something (are there teeth in there, is that an eye or a clitoris?) now seems to belong to an archaic past. Perhaps timelessness can only ever be accidental. Bourgeois's art is filled with ambivalent images and forms. Her Fée Couturière is a dangling off-white sac, a little like a wasp's nest penetrated by apertures. It might be a head, it could be a habitation. Even the version of her Fillette, a dangling erect penis and balls, sheathed and swaddled in some kind of blanket, is as much female as it is, just as inescapably, male. Gender in almost all the works here is slippery, when it can be ascribed at all. What a can of worms all this is. On cue, sitting on a shelf behind glass, are two small cylindrical containers by Hesse, one most likely the original lid to the other, both filled to overflowing with little worms, fashioned from cord and wire, everything painted in white enamel. Many of Hesse's works from the mid-1960s can be seen as impromptus or asides, things made in the moment, without much regard to their permanence. Wrapped objects bulge in sagging net bags, like so much shopping. It's as if Hesse made things to see what they would look like, how they would look back at her and tell her what to do next: one thing leading to another, and another. Many of the compound forms Hesse created were made using inflated balloons as a kind of armature, their surfaces built up and solidified using tape and paint. The process is immediate and daft, as basic as breathing. Along with Abstract Erotic, The Courtauld is also showing a room of drawings by Bourgeois. Filled with maelstroms and turbulence, repetitive gestures and breast forms, waves and rows of marks and unnameable, unstoppable eruptions, they are more records of her own emotional weather than any formal search. These drawings often have a great touch, but the sculptures in Abstract Erotic say it all, even when we don't know what it is. Abstract Erotic: Louise Bourgeois, Eva Hesse, Alice Adams at the Courtauld, London, from 20 June to 14 September
Indian Express
4 days ago
- Politics
- Indian Express
Take action against encroachments on Jewish cemetery land, Bombay HC tells Panvel civic body
The Bombay High Court on Monday directed Panvel Municipal Corporation (PMC) to remove unauthorised or illegal constructions on land belonging to a 200-year-old Jewish cemetery. A bench of Chief Justice Alok Aradhe and Justice Sandeep V Marne was hearing a plea by Jewish Heritage Trust, filed through its chief trustee Raymond A Gadkar alleging that certain encroachments in the form of unauthorised hutments and hoardings are made on its land reserved for Jewish community's burial rituals and repeated complaints to PMC have availed no action. The Trust, through senior advocate A S Khandeparkar, claimed that despite ongoing proceedings before legal forums, the PMC has repeatedly failed to take any action against the alleged encroachers despite it having identified them. The plea also raised grievances over the discharge of waste generated through the encroachments into the holy Israeli tank/lake. The petitioner Trust, which was formed to manage and protect Jewish heritage sites, said the tank is used to wash/clean the bodies prior to their burial as per Jewish rituals. 'Undoubtedly, under the Maharashtra Regional Town Planning (MRTP) Act,1966 and Maharashtra Municipal Corporation (MMC) Act, 1949, the Panvel Municipal Corporation is under a statutory obligation to remove encroachment and to keep the water bodies clean,' the HC noted. The court noted that whether the alleged construction was raised on a plot belonging to Subhan Shah Dargah or on the designated cremation ground of the petitioner Trust was 'a question of fact,' which it could not determine under Article 226 of the Constitution. Therefore, the court directed the ward officer of PMC to all persons or parties who may be in occupation of the concerned land and then take action against structures/encroachments as per law and the said exercise be completed within three months. The HC clarified that it did not express any opinion on the merits of the matter and any person or party aggrieved due to demolition or removal action was at liberty to take recourse to the remedy prescribed under the law. The court then disposed of the plea.
The Hindu
11-06-2025
- The Hindu
U.P. invokes ESMA to curb strikes in power department
The Uttar Pradesh government on Wednesday (June 11, 2025) invoked provisions of the Uttar Pradesh Essential Services Maintenance Act (ESMA), 1966, to prohibit strikes in the electricity department for a period of six months. A notification was issued under sub-section (1) of Section 3 of the Uttar Pradesh Essential Services Maintenance Act, 1966 (U.P. Act No. 30 of 1966), amid ongoing unrest within the power sector, government sources confirmed. The ESMA empowers the police to arrest, without warrant, employees who violate its provisions. Under the Act, individuals who instigate or participate in strikes deemed illegal may face imprisonment for up to one year, a fine of up to ₹1,000, or both. The move follows rising tensions in the electricity department, though the government has not detailed the specific causes of the unrest.
South China Morning Post
31-05-2025
- General
- South China Morning Post
When 6 people were killed at a Hong Kong bus stop in the 1960s
'A young European mother of four, and five schoolchildren were killed yesterday when a ten-foot high concrete wall collapsed on a bus queue during heavy rain in Boundary Street. Sixteen people were injured,' reported the South China Morning Post on June 9, 1966. Advertisement 'The woman, wife of a British serviceman, and the children, aged between 12 and 16, were crushed under tons of masonry as a 50-foot section of the 250-ft long wall crashed on to the pavement in front of the La Salle Primary School. Minutes after the incident, British troops stationed in the area, passersby, firemen and police rushed to the rescue. 'Wall collapse kills six,' reported the South China Morning Post on June 9, 1966. Photo: SCMP Archives 'A British Army wife who lives nearby said she arrived at the scene about five minutes after the tragedy. 'It was dreadful,' she said. 'There was rubble all over the place and people were screaming. I saw children trapped under blocks of concrete. Some of them were horribly crushed. Troops and police were trying to get them out. Some were rushed off in ambulances. I shall never forget that scene for the rest of my life.' Troops, passersby, firemen and police dig through rubble on Boundary Street after a concrete wall collapsed on a bus queue during heavy rain in 1966. Photo: SCMP Archives 'Two Scammell recovery vehicles with heavy cranes were provided by 50 Command Workshop, 28 Squadron Gurkha Transport Regiment , to clear the debris. Within about two hours the last of the injured had been taken to hospital. 'The wall collapsed at about 12.30pm. By 5pm the road had been cleared of rubble and was opened to traffic. The British Red Cross answered an emergency call for blood and rushed 117 pints to Queen Elizabeth Hospital. Meanwhile, hundreds of anxious parents jammed the switchboards of newspaper offices, police stations and hospitals with inquiries about the names of the dead and injured. 'Army authorities last night refused to reveal the identity of the dead woman until her relatives in England had been notified.' Advertisement
Globe and Mail
23-05-2025
- Globe and Mail
Robert Munsch's first job in the French countryside turned out to be a stinky situation
Kicking off the first 'How I Spent My Summer' of this year, beloved children's author Robert Munsch shares how he expected farming in the French countryside would be a gorgeous getaway where he'd learn a language, earn a green thumb and be one with nature. Instead, the now 79-year-old slept in a barn, didn't shower all summer and made friends with a mouse. But at least the food was good, he says. The first job I ever had was, strangely enough, hoeing rutabagas in France. I was there in 1966 as a 21-year-old, supposedly learning French. I spent the summer in a tiny little town of 60 people called Aulon in Massif Central, near Limoges, which is kinda the Appalachia of France. Sounds great, right? I thought so. My friend said, 'You'll be gardening in a big beautiful field, the people speak a great dialect, you'll perfect your French.' I thought I'd spend the summer getting in touch with the spirit of the earth, blah blah blah. Instead, I found it ridiculously hard, mind-numbingly boring and to be altogether avoided. There were seven of us – four guys and three girls – and everyone but me was English from England, so I didn't even learn any French. The rutabagas were not very vocal. A rutabaga is like a big turnip. By the time we arrived, they were already growing, so we were basically hoeing weeds between these long rows that went on forever and ever and ever. More like a mile. You'd have to very carefully use your tool to nick all the stuff growing around the rutabaga, but under no circumstances should you nick the rutabaga itself. The farmer would walk around sometimes and yell in French about the nicks. Former Chief Justice shares her first job: 'I covered the Salad Queen contest, which was a big deal in those days' Broadcaster Dan Shulman's first job as a camp 'counsellor in training' was peak teenage living I don't think I was any good at the job, but I didn't get fired either. Nobody got fired. I can't imagine it was an easy job to fill. The pay was so low that I can't even remember what it was, only that it was not good. The guy that got me the job left that piece of information out. The hours were long and slow. We'd start very early in the morning, like 6 a.m., and we'd go until about 11, when we'd stop to have a slow Gallic breakfast. The French cooking was actually quite good, and definitely the best part of the whole thing. We'd have a big salad and what I suspect was rabbit. Maybe some frog legs. What was really interesting about this place was that it was where Caesar had a camp during the Gallic wars. We'd be busy hoeing rutabagas when you'd dig up a piece of Roman statuary. The first time I found one, I said to the boss, 'What should I do with this?' He said, 'Wreck it! Break it into small pieces so the plants can eat it!' But I couldn't do that, so I'd put them in my pocket. By the end of the summer, I had a small collection going. You really had to pay attention to what you were doing, so I didn't have many deep or great thoughts. I wasn't thinking about what came next or what I wanted to be, mostly just, 'God, I have to finish this, when will this be over?' It was disgustingly hard strained physical labour, six days a week, and at the end of every day, you'd wrecked yourself. The first day I felt like I'd been stomped on by an elephant, then I had to get up and do it again the next day. Luckily, they gave us free access to a barn for sleeping. That was also left out of my friend's job description. I made friends with this little mouse in the barn. It had these little ears that stuck up and it was a very good climbing mouse. I suspect it was sniffing my face while I was asleep because it would take off when I woke up. I also got bugs from sleeping in the barn. We all did. You'd be right in the middle of a sentence when something started crawling down your forehead. I was itchy all the time and didn't get a shower until the end of the summer. They were considered a weird North American thing. Yes, we stank. Over the years, I've often wondered why I didn't quit. Maybe I thought since I'd decided I was doing this, I had to do it. Maybe I mistakenly thought being true to myself meant I should stay. Anyhow, I don't know why I stayed, but I did. I finished and then I was done. My wife handles all the gardening now. And I know now that whenever someone says, 'I have a great job for you!' you should run. As told to Rosemary Counter
