The French painter of Spanish descent, Fernand Pelez (1848-1913), produced his most striking works in a series, the first of which portrays a gaunt, weary mother and her five children struggling to survive on the streets. The few extant works of Pelez remind me of certain paintings by Thomas Benjamin Kennington, about whom I wrote in May this year. Alas, very few of Pelez’s paintings have survived to this day.
Posts like this fall under the tag #artrauflikes, and on beinginamerica.com, in the “Art Rauf Likes” section, you can explore all 112 of them (unlike Facebook, which ignores almost half of them).
11 years ago, I wondered if it was possible to tell by the sound of keystrokes whether someone was messaging in a messenger or not. In 2023, a scientific article is published with a prototype that can determine with 95% accuracy what a person is typing just by recording the keystrokes on a smartphone, and 93% accuracy when recorded through Zoom. The code in the article is declared to be available to other researchers. And they admit that they have not yet used language models, but with them, it should be really good. Link in the comments.
Why do still lifes typically feature mundane subjects like insignificant vases with fruit or lifeless fish? Consider Andrew McNeile Jones, for instance (Andrew McNeile Jones, British) — his still lifes focus more on interiors. Until 2017, his paintings primarily revolved around interior spaces, treating them as the main subject. However, from 2017 onwards, it appears his artworks shifted towards being predominantly suited for interiors — ones that enhance the look above a sofa in a contemporary apartment. This later phase of his oeuvre is more elusive to me. It’s as though the artist himself was supplanted. I’m not judging if it’s better or worse; it’s just markedly different. I’ll add a link to his website in the comments — do take a look.
Posts of similar interest are categorized under the tag #artrauflikes, and you can find all 110 of them on beinginamerica.com under the “Art Rauf Likes” section (unlike Facebook that tends to forget — or overlook — almost half of them).
P.S. ASMR games typically involve soft sounds (rustling, whispering, tapping), a calm atmosphere, and a relaxing gameplay that helps reduce stress and relax.
Cultural page. It was a surprise to see Bryullov’s work, and not just any work, but the famous portrait of Countess Samoilova (with a black boy and a ward), which it seems everyone knows right from school benches, along with the equally famous “Horsewoman”, also depicting her. Bryullov, generally, isn’t that well-known outside of Russia, and there aren’t many of his works in museums. This Samoilova, by the way, even appears in Bryullov’s “The Last Day of Pompeii” three or four times.
Across from Samoilova, the boyars are drinking. This painting, for some reason, is entirely unsigned. It’s a large, wall-sized canvas by Makovsky, “The Boyar Wedding Feast”. It invites prolonged viewing — every detail is captivating.
In the same hall, a third surprise awaited me — a portrait of a young black man. This was Lloyd Patterson. As it turned out, this gentleman ventured to the USSR in 1932 in search of racial equality, work, and simply a better life. In the Soviet Union, Patterson was invited to work as an artist on the film “Black and White”, the idea of which was to expose racism in America. The project was eventually canceled, but Lloyd stayed in the Soviet Union, mastered Russian, and married a Soviet artist and designer, Vera Aralova. It could be said that the issue of racism helped him settle his life.
Here in the USSR, his son, James Lloydovich, was born, and this young man is the same one who played in the famous film by Grigori Alexandrov “Circus” as the son of Marion Dixon – the American artist portrayed by Lyubov Orlova.
He grew up, became a poet, a prose writer, published in the USSR. Right after the USSR came to an end, James emigrated to the USA, and has been living here, in Washington, for over 30 years now. He is already 91 years old. He recently released a book titled “Chronicle of the Left Hand: An American Black Family’s Story from Slavery to Russia’s Hollywood”.
After the museum, we went to Mozart’s Requiem at the National Cathedral. The warm-up for Mozart was the Berlin Mass by Estonian composer Arvo Pärt. Too slow for me. But the Mozart Requiem I’ve heard about a hundred times, and this was my second time hearing it live (the first time was in a church in Moscow). Still, I can’t say I was very satisfied, coming to a live performance in one of the largest cathedrals in the world: I skimped when choosing seats and ended up in the back. I should have bought tickets closer to the front. By the place we were sitting, the sound was turning into a muddled “mush.”
We just fueled up at the church. Those entrances from both sides—that’s the gas station. By the way, gasoline costs $3.3 per gallon. And five minutes ago, we did NOT fuel up at the station outside the city opposite the CIA for $5.1 per gallon.
Today, I want to share with you an artist whose works are truly bizarre—Enrico Robusti (born 1956). Imagine putting door peepholes over your eyes instead of glasses, downing some vodka, and then visiting your relatives after banging your head a couple of times on a speeding tram. The result? Probably nothing good, but at some point, you might start seeing something akin to what this artist captures in his paintings.
I’ve always believed that consistency and the development of a unique style are more important for an artist than technique. Even if that style is highly controversial, over time it gains value. Perhaps only among a small circle of enthusiasts, but that circle forms a solid foundation for future popularity, and who knows—you might even leave a lasting mark on art history.
I can’t say I like Enrico Robusti’s work, but I can’t deny that it grabs your attention and stands apart from everything else. Yes, the pieces are somewhat repulsive—some even more than others—but that’s precisely the point, so it works.
Posts like this are grouped under the hashtag #artrauflikes, and all 109 of them are available on beinginamerica.com in the “Art Rauf Likes” section (unlike Facebook, which tends to forget—or ignore—nearly half of them).
Today, the artist who adores capturing the stunning repose of maidens—Serge Marshennikov (1971)—continues to astound. Quite an achievement for a graduate from the Ufa Art School. Some might question the purpose of crafting oil paintings that mimic photographs to a near-perfect degree. On the flip side, however, the artist’s role extends well beyond merely transferring an image onto canvas. From conceptualizing and composing to setting the lighting and evoking the intended emotional response in viewers, every facet is impeccably realized here.
Related posts are found under the tag #artrauflikes, with all 108 entries available in the “Art Rauf Likes” section at beinginamerica.com (unlike Facebook, which overlooks nearly half).
I find myself returning to the “classics” from contemporary artists once again. Today, it’s the paintings of Emile Claus. In just a couple of days, he’ll be celebrating his 175th anniversary.
Impressionism, my favorite art movement, this time in its Belgian form. Claus’s technique gave rise to the artistic movement known as “luminism.” Other artists associated with this style include Joaquín Sorolla, whom I wrote about earlier in May.
Posts like these are grouped under the hashtag #artrauflikes, and you can find all 107 of them in the “Art Rauf Likes” section on beinginamerica.com (unlike Facebook, which tends to overlook nearly half of them).
Hi, I'm Rauf Aliev. 