Kinga Rajzak, sociology & politics major Jane Randall, history major Lily Cole, art history major (M.A.)
  • Kinga Rajzak (sociology & politics major), Jane Randall (history major) and Lily Cole (history of art M.A.) photographed on their respective campuses by Angelo Pennetta for T Magazine

Apologies in advance: I will foreseeably be a minor tumblr stranger henceforward, as I am resuming my studies (as a psychology major) tomorrow morning.

While I do attend university out of town, I stacked my fall semester courses so as to allocate sufficient intervals to return to my New York apartment whenever work beckons.  In the meantime, I will cover the Spring 2012 shows a bit for Dossier, continue a’tweeting @bunnyBISOUS, and eagerly anticipate the early autumn release of various work projects undertaken this summer.

And to all you fellow students out there: I hope your Back to School week fares easy peasy lemon squeezy!  On the authority of The New York Times, we’re in grand company!  

"I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address. On the other hand, this not knowing has its charms." — Joe Fox [Tom Hanks], You’ve Got Mail (1998)

[images via T Magazine: “Beautiful Minds | Extra Credit Parts 1 & 2”]

Source The New York Times

lurvemag:

from The New York Times, Sunday, September 10, 1995.“Quite Useless: At the Serpentine Gallery in London, performance art is provided by the actress Tilda Swinton.  She sleeps eight hours a day in an exhibition called The Maybe.”
“For seven consecutive days, eight hours a day, she lay motionless, eyes closed, in a raised, glass casket - a contemporary Sleeping Beauty in jeans and deck shoes, subject to intense scrutiny and speculation. Was she asleep? How die she pee? Was this an act of massive egomania or acute self-effacement? And was she a natural redhead? One art critic from a national newspaper became strangely preoccupied with a small blemish under her left ear. A poet came and read to her every day. There was much punning about actresses resting between roles. Tank Girl, and art being a yawn - as well as the perpetual chestnut of whether this piece constituted art at all.”
“She displayed herself sleeping in a glass vitrine. Her performance created a living wax figure, letting the audience explore their own fascination with the visuality of celebrity, while reminding them that they could, in fact, not possess this image. Over 21,000 people, including several national news crews, turned up in a single week.”
The Maybe, conceived and performed by Tilda Swinton in an installation by Cornelia Parker, at the Serpentine Gallery, London, 4 - 10 September 1995.

lurvemag:

from The New York Times, Sunday, September 10, 1995.
“Quite Useless: At the Serpentine Gallery in London, performance art is provided by the actress Tilda Swinton. She sleeps eight hours a day in an exhibition called The Maybe.”

“For seven consecutive days, eight hours a day, she lay motionless, eyes closed, in a raised, glass casket - a contemporary Sleeping Beauty in jeans and deck shoes, subject to intense scrutiny and speculation. Was she asleep? How die she pee? Was this an act of massive egomania or acute self-effacement? And was she a natural redhead? One art critic from a national newspaper became strangely preoccupied with a small blemish under her left ear. A poet came and read to her every day. There was much punning about actresses resting between roles. Tank Girl, and art being a yawn - as well as the perpetual chestnut of whether this piece constituted art at all.”

“She displayed herself sleeping in a glass vitrine.
Her performance created a living wax figure, letting the audience explore their own fascination with the visuality of celebrity, while reminding them that they could, in fact, not possess this image.
Over 21,000 people, including several national news crews, turned up in a single week.”

The Maybe, conceived and performed by Tilda Swinton in an installation by Cornelia Parker, at the Serpentine Gallery, London, 4 - 10 September 1995.

Reblogged from lurvemag