Dialogue: City, self-proclaimed, “cutting-edge convergence of art and public life” has offered Denver 10 visiting artists to create site-specific works that coincide with the Democratic National Convention currently being held in Denver. Of these works, Lynn Hershmann’s piece Artificial Intelligence is Better than No Intelligence is on display at the Lab in Belmar. Other than its less-than-optimal location on the outskirts of Denver, DiNA, the artificial intelligence has me less than convinced that she was ready for such a high-profile public showing.
Considering that Dialogue: City was put together for the purpose of coinciding with the DNC, the chic and modern looking Lab may have been a good choice for Hershmann’s contemporary piece if it were not located 15 minutes outside of Denver (making it a difficult location for visitors to reach without a car). However, the building does lend to the works supposed modern feel and scientific references. Once entering the Lab, one must climb a stark white flight of stairs to enter the main floor. Viewers walk down a short, darkened corridor before they enter a large, dark, open room with a 3-dimensional projection of a woman’s head and shoulders. The image is of Hershmann’s presidential candidate, DiNA.
DiNA has been twelve years in the making. Dialogue: City has written of DiNA that she is, “charismatic, smart and able to answer any question a visitor might pose to a presidential candidate. Participants can inquire about her stance on the issues, as she is designed with voice recognition software and her ‘brain’ is connected to the internet, enabling her to process her answers immediately and interact in a unique dialogue”. In reality, DiNA does not answer all questions, infact, it could be debated whether DiNA understands all questions directed toward her. Also, DiNA does not interact immediately, sometimes it takes her about 10 seconds to answer, if she answers at all.
Hershmann’s concept of artificial intelligence would appear to be a contemporary medium and a relevant, even futuristic, topic. However, the execution of this medium is the opposite. DiNA looks like a photograph with two-dimensional moving lips, which are not accurate to the words which DiNA attempts to speak. DiNA’s appearance cannot even be compared to a photograph. Her outline is fuzzy and her entire look is unkempt. The aesthetic of DiNA is poor and instead of appearing contemporary, her technology makes her look dated. Considering that Disney’s 1998 animated film “Mulan” was able to mimic the movement of one’s mouth when speaking and compared to the character generation of today, Hershmann’s technology seems old-hat throwing her out of the contemporary realm. It would appear as if Dialogue: City directors Seth Goldberg and Liz Newton asked Hershmann if DiNA was almost finished and decided to go ahead and put the piece on public display. Poor decision.
When I visted DiNA in the Lab, it was clear to me that she was having trouble with her voice recognition feature. She would not answer viewer’s questions and kept repeating over the audience’s voices, “Please speak into the microphone”. When I attempted to address this with Goldberg he curtly informed me that DiNA has an attitude, sometimes she ignores people. He reminded me that DiNA is a presidential candidate and that she will not always answer everyone’s questions. So then…DiNA has been programmed with an attitude. I like that, I can get down with that. However, when Goldberg went to speak with her, DiNA responded as if no one else were in the room. It is so that DiNA has a personality, but her personality is one that has clearly not been refined enough to be a public personality. What Goldberg attempts to pass off as DiNA’s sass, in fact, appears to be malfunctioning software. It is a large stretch to try and disguise DiNA’s digital shortcomings as her programmed attitude. She interacts well with voices with which is familiar, but she has a difficult time being intelligent in front of an audience. I believe it was poor choice on Dialoge: City’s and Hershmann’s part to debut this finicky work of art which is sad to look at and even more pathetic to try to communicate with.
***For Works Cited Please Contact Author.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Ladakhi Region Fashion and the Role of the Female
*This is what I worked on researching in India.
At approximately 11,500 feet above sea level, Ladakh is a region in the Northern Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir that opens its doors to the world for a colorful, albeit brief summer season. A convergence point of traditional fashions, Leh the capital city of Ladakh, becomes a small cosmopolitan city showcasing its collection of lively local Ladakhi and Tibetan clothing. Although meant to be first and foremost functional, Ladakhi and Tibetan female residents wear intricate, layered, luscious clothing that speaks of their cultural couture abilities. Not only functional and stylish, Ladakhi and Tibetan women’s fashions also imitate that of Buddhist Goddess and female Bodhisattva depictions of the 10-15th centuries. Ladakhi region feminine fashion a marker of social status and heritage and denotes the female role in society and family life as compared to the ideal Buddhist woman.
The Ladakhi Fashion
A typical Ladakhi women’s outfit includes four main articles of clothing. The first is the tipi, or Ladakhi hat. The tipi is a high-top hat with upturned corners. It sits atop the head, back from the forehead and exposes the part of the hair. Made from brocade, it is a daring fashion statement to the Western eye. The next article of clothing is the tilin, a half shirt made of cotton, nylon or silk that is loose fitting. It has wide sleeves that can be rolled up during the warm months. It can be plain or patterned with light designs of tonality or sparkling embroidery. A tilin is mostly worn when coupled with a wedding gongcha, or the Ladakhi dress. The gongcha is traditionally a thick dress that resembles more of a coat, with long sleeves and a hem that falls just above the ankles. It can appear in a range of colors and designs and cost anywhere from approximately 500 rupees to 80,000 rupees for a wedding gongcha. When not paired with a tilin, a simple sulwar kurta, or loose fitting pants and long Indian shirt that reaches above the knee, is worn underneath with the everyday working Ladakhi outfit. The daily gongcha can be cotton, polyester, wool, velvet or a combination of these. Wool is even worn in the hot summer months. While daily gongcha are mostly a burgundy, black or gray or earthen color, wedding dresses are brightly colored and made from brocade silk fabrics imported from China, Korea, Japan and Nepal. Lastly, tied around the waist of the Ladakhi dress is a belt called the kayruck. Often matching the inner tilin in color, the kayruck is made of a thicker fabric and used to cinch the waist. This allowing the gongcha to puff out around the body creating a decidedly elegant ball gown effect.
Ladakhi wedding dresses are elaborate works of art that entirely cover the female body. Including the brocade gongcha, tilin and matching kayruck, brides are also adorned with a square cape called a yogar. The yogar can be embroidered cottons or brocade silk with rainbow tassels or sheep’s wool lining. Tied in the front and resting on the brides’ shoulders, the cape helps to hide the bride’s face, a Ladakhi tradition that may stem from ideals surrounding the virgin Buddhist goddess Tara. Also shielding the bride is a parak, instead of a tipi. The parak is the bridal headdress that is often a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter. Heavy with turquoise, coral, shells and other family gems, the parak sits atop the bride’s bowed head and expands outwards from both sides, emulating the appearance of the cobra, “tapering off like a snake skin at the back”. Black animal hair and yak felt decorate the flaps and hang down in braids framing the woman’s face. This headpiece is said to symbolize, “a snake skin, harking back to the cobra whose hood sheltered Lord Buddha in meditation”.
Often taking an entire month to put together, the Ladakhi wedding dress is a mass of colorful silk material that entirely covers the bride’s body, perhaps to shield her from impurity before she marries. At the wedding, the bride appears clothed in symbolic auspicious fabrics, white silky prayer clothes and rupees sewn to her person to ensure her good luck and prosperity in marriage. In fact, the Ladakhi bride much resembles 10th century images of Bodhisattvas in the Dukhang of the Tabo monastery while embodying qualities of the Goddess Tara. Considering that a bride is expected to enter a marital union a virgin and come prepared to cultivate family relations, it may be stated that the Ladakhi bride is dressed to emulate a Bodhisattva and Buddhist Goddess.
The Ladakhi Woman as a Buddhist Goddess and Bodhisattva
The comparison between the Ladakhi bride and the Tabo Bodhisattvas can be made when examining the dress of each. The Tabo Bodhisattvas, the Dukhang, sit suspended from the walls. Jutting out from the paintings, these Bodhisattvas float in mid-air. Dressed in rich auspicious fabrics, white prayer clothes, and sometimes rupees at their feet, these Bodhisattvas appear sensual and intensely fashionable in their silken garb. Just like the Bodhisattva, the Ladakhi bride is adorned with sumptuous fabrics of Eastern origin and covered with white silk prayer clothes, auspicious red and golden swatches and rupees. In this sense, when the Ladakhi women marry, they are expected to embody the qualities of a Bodhisattva. When compared to the Bodhisattva, or one who sacrifices his or her chance for potential enlightenment to help others, the Ladakhi woman takes on the role of one who sacrifices her own achievements to help others. This may take the form of working the family store, baring children, and/or cultivating a comfortable family life. When compared to the image of Tara, the Buddhist goddess who is, “compared to a virgin, a mother and a queen…and protect[s] against the eight great terrors”, the Ladakhi woman suddenly takes on a zenith role as family protectress. Although the Ladakhi woman is also expected to be pure and innocent, she is not thought of as fragile and demurely submissive. The Ladakhi female is seen as a necessary counterpart and strong womanly presence of wisdom. Just as the cobra protected the Buddha, so the Ladakhi woman must protect her family from evil.
In Buddhism, the idea of the female and male counterpart or consort is prevalent. When a male and female are depicted together in union, it is a representation of the “oneness of the two necessary elements for the generation of enlightenment: wisdom, a passive female principle and skillful means, an active male principle, [who join] together on the plane of ultimate reality”. Therefore, the fashions worn by Ladakhi women may seem oppressive, considering these full-body heavy gongcha are worn even during the summer months, but stylish hints elevate the woman and showcase her importance and equivalence as the male counterpart. Just as the Buddha would have been unprotected without the cobra, the Ladakhi woman’s parallel role as protectress is highlighted by her parak. Yet, this snake-like image does not make her an ugly or devious presence as may be misconstrued in Western ideology. Instead, her abilities as wife, mother and guardian are associated with this image. Furthermore, the Ladakhi woman’s cinched waist, which produces large hips of fabric, may serve to echo the tiny curved waist and broad child-bearing hips of the goddess Tara. Thus, because female Ladakhi fashion is an imitation of these Buddhist feminine ideals, the clothing of Ladakh serves more than just an aesthetic value. It beautifies its women and reveals them to society as an, “anima figure [for men], for women…a role model, and for both sexes…a form of…transcendental compassion”.
The Tibetan Fashion
Within the city of Leh, an entirely different fashion has emerged from Tibet. Due to the large numbers of Tibetan refugees, many women wear their cultural heritage and display their roots through traditional clothing. Despite the geographical proximity of the two cultures, Tibetan dress differs wholly from Ladakhi attire in both appearance and symbolism.
A Tibetan outfit consists of three main articles: the unjew, the chupa, and the panday. The unjew is a half shirt that is loose fitting and comes in a one-size-fits-all cut, costing anywhere from 150 rupees to 1,000 rupees. It is exactly the same type of shirt as the Ladakhi tilin. Over the unjew, Tibetan women wear a chupa, which is a long floor-length, sleeveless dress that rests close to the body cylindrically. This can be made from cotton, wool or silk and cost 300 to 9,000 rupees. The chupa has two long ties on either side that wrap around the waist and tie in the back in a way that accentuates the buttocks of the Tibetan woman while adding curvature to the waist. Also wrapped around the waist is the panday. The panday is an apron that falls just past the knees. It is worn to convey the fact that a Tibetan woman is married. Ranging in color from pale grays to bright neon colors, the panday is always a dense material decorated with horizontal stripes of varying thickness. The panday is the least expensive article of clothing, costing as low as 100 rupees to only as high as 500 rupees. The apron serves as a purely stylistic affect with no functional use whatsoever, other than to signify the marriage status of the woman. Another signifier of marriage within Tibetan culture revolves around the jewelry, which plays a larger role in Tibetan dress than Ladkahi. For Tibetans, women who are unmarried may not wear the panday, but they are also prohibited from wearing large jewelry. Although, young woman now may wear small stud earrings, they still cannot wear necklaces, bracelets or bulky earrings. Unmarried girls often also wear their hair in two long braids with colored yarn braided into the strands.
The tradition of headgear and jewelry for the Ladakhi Tibetans is rich with history and symbolism. The custom Tibetan hat is called the usha par. This hat is made of silken brocade fabrics with a hard circular base that allows it to sit around the head. On all four sides, four fur-lined flaps jut out horizontally creating a distinctly Tibetan look. These flaps also help to protect the wearer from harsh sun rays and winter weather. “The flaps of the hat [are] worn down in winter to protect ears from the cold. The flap to the back of the head [is] worn down to keep the neck warm. In warmer weather the flaps [are] worn up. The flap to the back of the head [is] worn down in summer to protect the neck from sunburn.” Both woman and men may wear this hat. Although the Tibetan tradition does not have a head piece as sumptuous as the Ladakhi wedding parak, females do wear a head piece called a namung for graduating from school. The namung is much simpler and delicate than the heavy parak and it rests gently against the head. It has four leather strips adorned with turquoise or coral that hang down around the head, pearls strung between the strips cascade in rows of five or six down the hair and forehead.
The Jewels of a Tibetan Woman as Compared to Tara
Because jewelry is such an intimate, “marker of wealth and status [and] it [identifies] its wearer in a number of ways often simultaneously—region, castes, marital status, personal achievements,” it is interesting to note not only the fashions of Tibetan head pieces, but also the significance of such extravagance. When examining depictions of Tara or any Buddhist female deity, the sumptuousness with which these cosmic women are depicted is astounding. The most famous image of Tara ornaments the lower left corner of the wall behind a statue of the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Avalokiteshvara, in the Sumtsek temple at Alchi. In this 11th to 13th painting, voluptuous Tara is shown in all her divine glory as a young goddess of about 16 years with full, round breasts and strings of jewels embellishing her curvaceous body. Although depicted young and beautiful, the weight of the world rests on Tara’s shoulders. Her job as protectress, mother, and queen is not one of ease. She is, “like a mother instantly and unthinkingly leaping into danger if her child is threatened. [Tara] steps down at once to give aid and protection to any living being who calls on her”. Thus, when considering the Tibetan woman and her ability to wear jewelry only after marriage, it may be that because Tara embodies these difficult life duties, the young, unmarried and carefree Tibetan woman does not have the life experience to privilege the wearing of luscious and rich jewels. Only after a Tibetan woman is married and expected to take on wifely duties may she then be worthy of comparing herself to Tara in mind and body.
Also, (as previously mentioned) the namung, or Tibetan female’s graduation cap, is also a marker of social status and psychological development as compared to Tara. This semi-precious head adornment used to denote the graduation of a female serves to cover her head, the origin of her intelligence, and elevates her status visually by its appearance alone. A 2,000 rupee or more head piece, the namung displays the education and wealth of a Tibetan young woman, ideally adding to her social and cultural appearance. Considering that Tara is the Goddess of Wisdom, it may be concluded that, again, the Tibetan woman draws upon the jewels and representations of Tara to illustrate her goddess-like qualities. Just as wise Tara is placed beside the figure of compassion, Avalokiteshvara and therefore contrasts him, so the Tibetan bride must be viewed as a wise and worthy contrast to her male counterpart.
Conclusion
Ladakhi and Tibetan woman have rich cultures of traditional haute couture. Both use fashion as a means to communicate social and marital status, wealth, intelligence and life maturity. Using clothing as a means of self expression, Ladakhi and Tibetan women draw from the ideal Buddhists feminine image to establish high social and family status. By comparing themselves in this manner, fashion becomes a mechanism of enlightenment in that it is used as symbolic costuming to put the woman in a place of ultimate Buddhist power both in a public and private realm.
***For Works Cited Contact Author.
At approximately 11,500 feet above sea level, Ladakh is a region in the Northern Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir that opens its doors to the world for a colorful, albeit brief summer season. A convergence point of traditional fashions, Leh the capital city of Ladakh, becomes a small cosmopolitan city showcasing its collection of lively local Ladakhi and Tibetan clothing. Although meant to be first and foremost functional, Ladakhi and Tibetan female residents wear intricate, layered, luscious clothing that speaks of their cultural couture abilities. Not only functional and stylish, Ladakhi and Tibetan women’s fashions also imitate that of Buddhist Goddess and female Bodhisattva depictions of the 10-15th centuries. Ladakhi region feminine fashion a marker of social status and heritage and denotes the female role in society and family life as compared to the ideal Buddhist woman.
The Ladakhi Fashion
A typical Ladakhi women’s outfit includes four main articles of clothing. The first is the tipi, or Ladakhi hat. The tipi is a high-top hat with upturned corners. It sits atop the head, back from the forehead and exposes the part of the hair. Made from brocade, it is a daring fashion statement to the Western eye. The next article of clothing is the tilin, a half shirt made of cotton, nylon or silk that is loose fitting. It has wide sleeves that can be rolled up during the warm months. It can be plain or patterned with light designs of tonality or sparkling embroidery. A tilin is mostly worn when coupled with a wedding gongcha, or the Ladakhi dress. The gongcha is traditionally a thick dress that resembles more of a coat, with long sleeves and a hem that falls just above the ankles. It can appear in a range of colors and designs and cost anywhere from approximately 500 rupees to 80,000 rupees for a wedding gongcha. When not paired with a tilin, a simple sulwar kurta, or loose fitting pants and long Indian shirt that reaches above the knee, is worn underneath with the everyday working Ladakhi outfit. The daily gongcha can be cotton, polyester, wool, velvet or a combination of these. Wool is even worn in the hot summer months. While daily gongcha are mostly a burgundy, black or gray or earthen color, wedding dresses are brightly colored and made from brocade silk fabrics imported from China, Korea, Japan and Nepal. Lastly, tied around the waist of the Ladakhi dress is a belt called the kayruck. Often matching the inner tilin in color, the kayruck is made of a thicker fabric and used to cinch the waist. This allowing the gongcha to puff out around the body creating a decidedly elegant ball gown effect.
Ladakhi wedding dresses are elaborate works of art that entirely cover the female body. Including the brocade gongcha, tilin and matching kayruck, brides are also adorned with a square cape called a yogar. The yogar can be embroidered cottons or brocade silk with rainbow tassels or sheep’s wool lining. Tied in the front and resting on the brides’ shoulders, the cape helps to hide the bride’s face, a Ladakhi tradition that may stem from ideals surrounding the virgin Buddhist goddess Tara. Also shielding the bride is a parak, instead of a tipi. The parak is the bridal headdress that is often a family heirloom passed down from mother to daughter. Heavy with turquoise, coral, shells and other family gems, the parak sits atop the bride’s bowed head and expands outwards from both sides, emulating the appearance of the cobra, “tapering off like a snake skin at the back”. Black animal hair and yak felt decorate the flaps and hang down in braids framing the woman’s face. This headpiece is said to symbolize, “a snake skin, harking back to the cobra whose hood sheltered Lord Buddha in meditation”.
Often taking an entire month to put together, the Ladakhi wedding dress is a mass of colorful silk material that entirely covers the bride’s body, perhaps to shield her from impurity before she marries. At the wedding, the bride appears clothed in symbolic auspicious fabrics, white silky prayer clothes and rupees sewn to her person to ensure her good luck and prosperity in marriage. In fact, the Ladakhi bride much resembles 10th century images of Bodhisattvas in the Dukhang of the Tabo monastery while embodying qualities of the Goddess Tara. Considering that a bride is expected to enter a marital union a virgin and come prepared to cultivate family relations, it may be stated that the Ladakhi bride is dressed to emulate a Bodhisattva and Buddhist Goddess.
The Ladakhi Woman as a Buddhist Goddess and Bodhisattva
The comparison between the Ladakhi bride and the Tabo Bodhisattvas can be made when examining the dress of each. The Tabo Bodhisattvas, the Dukhang, sit suspended from the walls. Jutting out from the paintings, these Bodhisattvas float in mid-air. Dressed in rich auspicious fabrics, white prayer clothes, and sometimes rupees at their feet, these Bodhisattvas appear sensual and intensely fashionable in their silken garb. Just like the Bodhisattva, the Ladakhi bride is adorned with sumptuous fabrics of Eastern origin and covered with white silk prayer clothes, auspicious red and golden swatches and rupees. In this sense, when the Ladakhi women marry, they are expected to embody the qualities of a Bodhisattva. When compared to the Bodhisattva, or one who sacrifices his or her chance for potential enlightenment to help others, the Ladakhi woman takes on the role of one who sacrifices her own achievements to help others. This may take the form of working the family store, baring children, and/or cultivating a comfortable family life. When compared to the image of Tara, the Buddhist goddess who is, “compared to a virgin, a mother and a queen…and protect[s] against the eight great terrors”, the Ladakhi woman suddenly takes on a zenith role as family protectress. Although the Ladakhi woman is also expected to be pure and innocent, she is not thought of as fragile and demurely submissive. The Ladakhi female is seen as a necessary counterpart and strong womanly presence of wisdom. Just as the cobra protected the Buddha, so the Ladakhi woman must protect her family from evil.
In Buddhism, the idea of the female and male counterpart or consort is prevalent. When a male and female are depicted together in union, it is a representation of the “oneness of the two necessary elements for the generation of enlightenment: wisdom, a passive female principle and skillful means, an active male principle, [who join] together on the plane of ultimate reality”. Therefore, the fashions worn by Ladakhi women may seem oppressive, considering these full-body heavy gongcha are worn even during the summer months, but stylish hints elevate the woman and showcase her importance and equivalence as the male counterpart. Just as the Buddha would have been unprotected without the cobra, the Ladakhi woman’s parallel role as protectress is highlighted by her parak. Yet, this snake-like image does not make her an ugly or devious presence as may be misconstrued in Western ideology. Instead, her abilities as wife, mother and guardian are associated with this image. Furthermore, the Ladakhi woman’s cinched waist, which produces large hips of fabric, may serve to echo the tiny curved waist and broad child-bearing hips of the goddess Tara. Thus, because female Ladakhi fashion is an imitation of these Buddhist feminine ideals, the clothing of Ladakh serves more than just an aesthetic value. It beautifies its women and reveals them to society as an, “anima figure [for men], for women…a role model, and for both sexes…a form of…transcendental compassion”.
The Tibetan Fashion
Within the city of Leh, an entirely different fashion has emerged from Tibet. Due to the large numbers of Tibetan refugees, many women wear their cultural heritage and display their roots through traditional clothing. Despite the geographical proximity of the two cultures, Tibetan dress differs wholly from Ladakhi attire in both appearance and symbolism.
A Tibetan outfit consists of three main articles: the unjew, the chupa, and the panday. The unjew is a half shirt that is loose fitting and comes in a one-size-fits-all cut, costing anywhere from 150 rupees to 1,000 rupees. It is exactly the same type of shirt as the Ladakhi tilin. Over the unjew, Tibetan women wear a chupa, which is a long floor-length, sleeveless dress that rests close to the body cylindrically. This can be made from cotton, wool or silk and cost 300 to 9,000 rupees. The chupa has two long ties on either side that wrap around the waist and tie in the back in a way that accentuates the buttocks of the Tibetan woman while adding curvature to the waist. Also wrapped around the waist is the panday. The panday is an apron that falls just past the knees. It is worn to convey the fact that a Tibetan woman is married. Ranging in color from pale grays to bright neon colors, the panday is always a dense material decorated with horizontal stripes of varying thickness. The panday is the least expensive article of clothing, costing as low as 100 rupees to only as high as 500 rupees. The apron serves as a purely stylistic affect with no functional use whatsoever, other than to signify the marriage status of the woman. Another signifier of marriage within Tibetan culture revolves around the jewelry, which plays a larger role in Tibetan dress than Ladkahi. For Tibetans, women who are unmarried may not wear the panday, but they are also prohibited from wearing large jewelry. Although, young woman now may wear small stud earrings, they still cannot wear necklaces, bracelets or bulky earrings. Unmarried girls often also wear their hair in two long braids with colored yarn braided into the strands.
The tradition of headgear and jewelry for the Ladakhi Tibetans is rich with history and symbolism. The custom Tibetan hat is called the usha par. This hat is made of silken brocade fabrics with a hard circular base that allows it to sit around the head. On all four sides, four fur-lined flaps jut out horizontally creating a distinctly Tibetan look. These flaps also help to protect the wearer from harsh sun rays and winter weather. “The flaps of the hat [are] worn down in winter to protect ears from the cold. The flap to the back of the head [is] worn down to keep the neck warm. In warmer weather the flaps [are] worn up. The flap to the back of the head [is] worn down in summer to protect the neck from sunburn.” Both woman and men may wear this hat. Although the Tibetan tradition does not have a head piece as sumptuous as the Ladakhi wedding parak, females do wear a head piece called a namung for graduating from school. The namung is much simpler and delicate than the heavy parak and it rests gently against the head. It has four leather strips adorned with turquoise or coral that hang down around the head, pearls strung between the strips cascade in rows of five or six down the hair and forehead.
The Jewels of a Tibetan Woman as Compared to Tara
Because jewelry is such an intimate, “marker of wealth and status [and] it [identifies] its wearer in a number of ways often simultaneously—region, castes, marital status, personal achievements,” it is interesting to note not only the fashions of Tibetan head pieces, but also the significance of such extravagance. When examining depictions of Tara or any Buddhist female deity, the sumptuousness with which these cosmic women are depicted is astounding. The most famous image of Tara ornaments the lower left corner of the wall behind a statue of the Bodhisattva of Compassion, Avalokiteshvara, in the Sumtsek temple at Alchi. In this 11th to 13th painting, voluptuous Tara is shown in all her divine glory as a young goddess of about 16 years with full, round breasts and strings of jewels embellishing her curvaceous body. Although depicted young and beautiful, the weight of the world rests on Tara’s shoulders. Her job as protectress, mother, and queen is not one of ease. She is, “like a mother instantly and unthinkingly leaping into danger if her child is threatened. [Tara] steps down at once to give aid and protection to any living being who calls on her”. Thus, when considering the Tibetan woman and her ability to wear jewelry only after marriage, it may be that because Tara embodies these difficult life duties, the young, unmarried and carefree Tibetan woman does not have the life experience to privilege the wearing of luscious and rich jewels. Only after a Tibetan woman is married and expected to take on wifely duties may she then be worthy of comparing herself to Tara in mind and body.
Also, (as previously mentioned) the namung, or Tibetan female’s graduation cap, is also a marker of social status and psychological development as compared to Tara. This semi-precious head adornment used to denote the graduation of a female serves to cover her head, the origin of her intelligence, and elevates her status visually by its appearance alone. A 2,000 rupee or more head piece, the namung displays the education and wealth of a Tibetan young woman, ideally adding to her social and cultural appearance. Considering that Tara is the Goddess of Wisdom, it may be concluded that, again, the Tibetan woman draws upon the jewels and representations of Tara to illustrate her goddess-like qualities. Just as wise Tara is placed beside the figure of compassion, Avalokiteshvara and therefore contrasts him, so the Tibetan bride must be viewed as a wise and worthy contrast to her male counterpart.
Conclusion
Ladakhi and Tibetan woman have rich cultures of traditional haute couture. Both use fashion as a means to communicate social and marital status, wealth, intelligence and life maturity. Using clothing as a means of self expression, Ladakhi and Tibetan women draw from the ideal Buddhists feminine image to establish high social and family status. By comparing themselves in this manner, fashion becomes a mechanism of enlightenment in that it is used as symbolic costuming to put the woman in a place of ultimate Buddhist power both in a public and private realm.
***For Works Cited Contact Author.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Murakami
When you entered into the sunlight again after a rather arduous subway ride through Brooklyn, the Brooklyn Museum was a welcomed first sight. On Sunday June 8, I had the privileged opportunity to visit this museum the day before I left for India. It was so worth it.
For a mere $8.oo with valid student I.D. I gained access to both a small exhibit on Ukiyo-e prints and the Murakami exhibit.
The Ukiyo-e print exhibit was well laid out and showcased works from the Utagawa school of art. With prints by Utamaro, Hiroshige I and II, Toyokuni and Kuniyoshi, this exhibit was mandatory for the Japanese art lover. I found myself staring at color prints of Kabuki actors and Japanese fables illustrated. There was also a nice little section on the naughty Ukiyo-e prints.
One interesting fact that I picked up from the excellent corresponding posters and text panels was that Hiroshige actually coined the term "manga" in the 19th century to mean "lazy drawing". Easily identifiable are the strict parallels that can be drawn between these Ukiyo-e masters and today's contempories in Manga.
This exhibit conveniently prefaced Murakami's show. Ironically (or not), Murakami was trained in the traditional art of Japan before breaking through and coining a phrase of his own: "Superflat". The Brooklyn Museum utilized Murakami's art historical theory of Superflat and gave it a proper display.
Upon entering the show on the fifth floor, one met Miss Ko2. Wearing what mimicked a waitress suit with blonde hair, large perky breasts and legs that never end, she stood eager and willing to please. The figure is an embodiment of the otaku subculture in Japan. As with Hiropan and Second Mission Miss Ko2, who appeared later in the exhibit, Murakami explores his own cultural misgivings. The otaku is characterized as “lonely and psychologically disturbed…[one] who exemplif[ies] the ‘murderous and anti-social…’"*. Imagine a young boy in front of his WOW game on the computer all day. His feminine ideal is warped. With these unreal femmes, Murakami draws from the otaku fantasy creations while making social commentary on a culture, perhaps, too connected by machinery--or not connected at all.
Moving into the center of this part of the show, one was drawn to three figures suspended on a circular plate. Meet Second Mission Ko2. This was, by far my favourite piece in the show. Murakami portrays Ko2 with blue hair, naked breasts, torso and genitals and cyborg legs and arms. Move to the second figure of Second Mission Ko2, and you saw that she was transforming like a...well, Transformer. Her breast plate (which extended down to her naked vagina) was lifting outward toward the viewer so the viewer was forced to meet head on with her bare prepubescent genitalia. Hard to notice much else when a resin clitoris is in your face, but examining the work, you could almost hear engines decompressing and gears pumping. Moving to the third and final figure, she had finally morphed into a jet. Rainbow wings and colored arms and legs that folded up nicely to create a masculine piece of machinery. A comment on the (manufactured and undervalued) role of women in Japanese society or coincidence? I think the former, not the later.
The next exciting piece of the gallery was immediately to the right upon entering the center circle. Behind a wall you were introduced to Murakami's animated creations: Kanye West's music video and his own "guardians" (as they've been dubbed) Kaikai and Kiki. Kaikai and Kiki star in 10-11 minute short films with both pathos and bathos. Also, you got to preview Murakami's live action film "Dharma" set to appear summer 2009. I won't give anything away (actually, there isn't much to give away, as there was no real dialogue in the preview), but it is definitely going to be exciting! Murakami truly has his eggs in many baskets.
Moving on, once you got past this initial gallery, you entered into a fully functioning store that sold Louis Vuitton bags. Luscious. That's all I have to say. But, if you didn't already know, Carl Lagerfeld (LV fashion designer) asked Murakami to collaborate with him on LV Bags a while back, thus those crazy eyeballs and bright colors you see on LV nowadays: Murakami's doing.
After being "oooed and ahhhed" by the beautiful Louis Vuitton bags, you moved into a room where you were surrounded by daisy faces. And I do mean literally surrounded because the walls have sheets of daisy face wallpaper on them. Not an inch of white wall is showing (imagine the work that went into that!). In the middle is a resin sculpture of Daisy faces and other kawaii things while more paintings adorn the wall. One truly feels Murakami's idea of "Superflat" in this room.
Next stop is the fourth floor. Down here, you met Hiropon and her counterpart My Lonesome Cowboy and more depictions of Kaikia and Kiki. (If you aren't already familiar with Hiropon, she was on display at the Denver Art Museum two summers ago for the contemporary art exhibit. She was the naked one with pink hair and obscene breasts squirting a circle of milk around herself. But we didn't get to see her companion because the DAM thought it too sexually provacative...hmmm....wacky ethics, anyone? Oh, and another quick side note: The Logan's were lending a piece to this show, too--wow!) One painting that stood out to me in this bit of the exhibit...the title currently escapes me, I apologize, was very large and depicted Kaikai spewing the most colorful and beautiful bile out of her sharp-toothed mouth as Kiki stood in the corner with Japanese prayer flags on a hill. (I'm leaving out a LOT of detail for this picture, here). It was, by far, the most violent work in the show and speaks directly to Japan's rather recent war history. Something which Murakami draws on profusely.
Exiting the show, there was a gift store where you could drop $42.oo on a t-shirt or $100.oo on daisy face pillows or $65.oo on the show's catalog. I imagine Murakami sits laughing all day in his studio as people pay outrageous prices for his mass manufactured works. How's that for art of the 21st century?
***For Works Cited Contact Author.
For a mere $8.oo with valid student I.D. I gained access to both a small exhibit on Ukiyo-e prints and the Murakami exhibit.
The Ukiyo-e print exhibit was well laid out and showcased works from the Utagawa school of art. With prints by Utamaro, Hiroshige I and II, Toyokuni and Kuniyoshi, this exhibit was mandatory for the Japanese art lover. I found myself staring at color prints of Kabuki actors and Japanese fables illustrated. There was also a nice little section on the naughty Ukiyo-e prints.
One interesting fact that I picked up from the excellent corresponding posters and text panels was that Hiroshige actually coined the term "manga" in the 19th century to mean "lazy drawing". Easily identifiable are the strict parallels that can be drawn between these Ukiyo-e masters and today's contempories in Manga.
This exhibit conveniently prefaced Murakami's show. Ironically (or not), Murakami was trained in the traditional art of Japan before breaking through and coining a phrase of his own: "Superflat". The Brooklyn Museum utilized Murakami's art historical theory of Superflat and gave it a proper display.
Upon entering the show on the fifth floor, one met Miss Ko2. Wearing what mimicked a waitress suit with blonde hair, large perky breasts and legs that never end, she stood eager and willing to please. The figure is an embodiment of the otaku subculture in Japan. As with Hiropan and Second Mission Miss Ko2, who appeared later in the exhibit, Murakami explores his own cultural misgivings. The otaku is characterized as “lonely and psychologically disturbed…[one] who exemplif[ies] the ‘murderous and anti-social…’"*. Imagine a young boy in front of his WOW game on the computer all day. His feminine ideal is warped. With these unreal femmes, Murakami draws from the otaku fantasy creations while making social commentary on a culture, perhaps, too connected by machinery--or not connected at all.
Moving into the center of this part of the show, one was drawn to three figures suspended on a circular plate. Meet Second Mission Ko2. This was, by far my favourite piece in the show. Murakami portrays Ko2 with blue hair, naked breasts, torso and genitals and cyborg legs and arms. Move to the second figure of Second Mission Ko2, and you saw that she was transforming like a...well, Transformer. Her breast plate (which extended down to her naked vagina) was lifting outward toward the viewer so the viewer was forced to meet head on with her bare prepubescent genitalia. Hard to notice much else when a resin clitoris is in your face, but examining the work, you could almost hear engines decompressing and gears pumping. Moving to the third and final figure, she had finally morphed into a jet. Rainbow wings and colored arms and legs that folded up nicely to create a masculine piece of machinery. A comment on the (manufactured and undervalued) role of women in Japanese society or coincidence? I think the former, not the later.
The next exciting piece of the gallery was immediately to the right upon entering the center circle. Behind a wall you were introduced to Murakami's animated creations: Kanye West's music video and his own "guardians" (as they've been dubbed) Kaikai and Kiki. Kaikai and Kiki star in 10-11 minute short films with both pathos and bathos. Also, you got to preview Murakami's live action film "Dharma" set to appear summer 2009. I won't give anything away (actually, there isn't much to give away, as there was no real dialogue in the preview), but it is definitely going to be exciting! Murakami truly has his eggs in many baskets.
Moving on, once you got past this initial gallery, you entered into a fully functioning store that sold Louis Vuitton bags. Luscious. That's all I have to say. But, if you didn't already know, Carl Lagerfeld (LV fashion designer) asked Murakami to collaborate with him on LV Bags a while back, thus those crazy eyeballs and bright colors you see on LV nowadays: Murakami's doing.
After being "oooed and ahhhed" by the beautiful Louis Vuitton bags, you moved into a room where you were surrounded by daisy faces. And I do mean literally surrounded because the walls have sheets of daisy face wallpaper on them. Not an inch of white wall is showing (imagine the work that went into that!). In the middle is a resin sculpture of Daisy faces and other kawaii things while more paintings adorn the wall. One truly feels Murakami's idea of "Superflat" in this room.
Next stop is the fourth floor. Down here, you met Hiropon and her counterpart My Lonesome Cowboy and more depictions of Kaikia and Kiki. (If you aren't already familiar with Hiropon, she was on display at the Denver Art Museum two summers ago for the contemporary art exhibit. She was the naked one with pink hair and obscene breasts squirting a circle of milk around herself. But we didn't get to see her companion because the DAM thought it too sexually provacative...hmmm....wacky ethics, anyone? Oh, and another quick side note: The Logan's were lending a piece to this show, too--wow!) One painting that stood out to me in this bit of the exhibit...the title currently escapes me, I apologize, was very large and depicted Kaikai spewing the most colorful and beautiful bile out of her sharp-toothed mouth as Kiki stood in the corner with Japanese prayer flags on a hill. (I'm leaving out a LOT of detail for this picture, here). It was, by far, the most violent work in the show and speaks directly to Japan's rather recent war history. Something which Murakami draws on profusely.
Exiting the show, there was a gift store where you could drop $42.oo on a t-shirt or $100.oo on daisy face pillows or $65.oo on the show's catalog. I imagine Murakami sits laughing all day in his studio as people pay outrageous prices for his mass manufactured works. How's that for art of the 21st century?
***For Works Cited Contact Author.
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