visiting the noguchi museum

These were some photos I took of the Noguchi Museum in Long Island City in the summer of 2019.

the simple sign says: 
noguchi

the isamu noguchi foundation and garden museum.

I didn’t really know much about Noguchi except he had designed a mass produced table that some people loved.

It was so great to see his process and how his mind worked.

Even though he had many pieces where he used several different mediums, the through line and evolution of his work cohesive and in harmony.

Several pencil sketches by Noguchi.

I especially loved seeing his sketches and ideas penciled on the page before he jumps into the materials. Pushing movement with materials that we mostly associate with stability and stillness (metal, wood, glass etc.)

The form follows his imagination, not the materials.

He draws freely and playfully and occasionally adding emphasis with darker markings.

Pencil on aged paper drawings. A smooth strange structure; half human half abstract on top of a ball. (Noguchi)
The set that Noguchi and Graham created for one of her pieces. Two people kneel on the ground with their hands in prayer and their hands looking up. 
Several long sticks hold up the sparse set and there is a blanket on one of the horizontal poles. There are four women sitting on a bench by the cloth. They are wearing the same drab, long dress. 

A woman stands, holding a pole. Watching the couple praying.

I was also jazzed to see his collab with the famed modern dancer, Martha Graham.

A picture of me taking a picture of the modern dancer, Martha Graham. She sees something in the distance, her lips are dark (in a black and white photo). She is still but moving at the same time.
Look at this picture…PURE DRAMA!
Curvy and smooth sculpture made of metal on a wooden floor.

Later on I found this interesting article in the New York Times which briefly discusses how he was an apprentice under the artist Brancusi and how Brancusi was an artist under Rodin.

Apparently the article ends with saying that Brancusi did not have a pleasant relationship with Rodin, however Noguchi had a fine mentor in Brancusi:

Unlike his mentor, whose takeaway from Rodin was negative — Brancusi didn’t want to create sculptures like the great French sculptor or run a Beaux-Arts factory-studio — Noguchi’s apprenticeship provided a lifetime of lessons.

Brancusi was a tree under which an artist could grow.

An Urban Garden

Life as we know it has come to a screeching halt.

I am living in New York City with my family. We did not run to the Hamptons or Upstate, NY. We stayed put in New York City so as not to potentially spread anything 

I was working at a job that I absolutely loved with people I adored. 

Then the pandemic struck and my husband was deployed to care for covid-19n patients in the hospital. I had to take leave from a job in tech sales that I recently got. Suddenly I found myself a stay at home mom doing things that I abhorred: cooking, cleaning and laundry. 

But under the given circumstances, I found caring for my children and being a mother was different and I found joy in the very things that I thought I hated. At the end of the day I was tired, but a good tired. The saying: "The obstacle is the way" is very true in my case: My children are the very thing that help sustain me mentally and physically.

It's not been very easy but at the moment I've found peace.

We planted seeds a few months back and now we have a full fledged veggie and garnish garden. It's very helpful to have some greens that we can pluck and eat.


Two cut scallions in water sprouting new growth on top! (I saw this on Twitter)




We have arugula. (Perhaps too much arugula). The taste of fresh arugula is potently spicy and so alive.


Cilantro! We usually use a lot of cilantro but haven't used much of it yet.



And hopefully some tomatoes. Pray for them.

We also planted strawberries as well but those never came in.

My husband requested some Thyme and Rosemary.

I freaked out a bit because I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with anything. I texted my cousin, Tonya in West Virginia who is very handy and wise:



We can grow some of our own food and I sewed some masks (despite some obstacles, one of them being that I don't really sew.

 



I take great pleasure in knowing we can do these things, with our hands. We can create and we can cultivate our own gardens and therefore our lives.

Be Well,

Natalie ❤

Be the Same in Private as You Are in Public

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Today my girl has a playdate at our apartment and we went to pick up some snacks:

  • Ice pops (yes, in the winter)
  • Tings (2 bags)
  • 2 Organic Apples
  • Popcorn with a touch of butter. (Paul Newman)

As I went to the register, I spotted the usual clerk, a young woman wearing a navy blue hijab.

An older, white gentleman cuts in front of me and normally I’d speak up—but I let it go because he’s older and has just two items to buy.

With an accent, the clerk tells him says: “$11.58”.

“What did you say?” the gentleman asks imperiously. The young clerk remains silent. He turns to a young black woman with wavy long hair who is working at another counter: “What did she say? I can’t understand her!” He seems to enjoy the spectacle he’s creating.

I said: “She said ‘$11.58’ (line cutter!) Just ask her what she said.”

He ignored me and continued to speak loudly to the other cashier: “I can’t understand her! Do you work here?”

I looked at his face and suddenly a memory sprouted up. I thought to myself: “That face, that name, I know who that is…” 

I asked him, “Wait are you on TV?”

He stopped and gave me a strange look, almost a smirk. Half happy to be recognized and half in terror for being caught for behaving like a bully.

He asked: “Why are you? Are you?”

I said: “Nope.”

I knew exactly who he was. I remembered seeing him on TV reviewing Charlyne Yi’s gorgeous movie, Paper Hearts. He was a critic and the way he panned the movie made me think he was a bitter, old dude who didn’t understand the movie, nor tried to understand it and therefore he dismissed it.

Of course, he is a critic.

Back to present time in the grocery store.

This turned to the young woman wearing a hijab.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t understand you.” He weakly apologized, took his bag and left.

I felt a little bad for calling him out and wondered if he was just having a bad day.

The young woman began ringing my snacks up and looked wearily in his direction:

“He does this all the time.”

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