Acropolis Fall 2023: Celestial by acropolis art journal

ACROPOLIS

ART & ART HISTORY JOURNAL

Celestial Fall 2023

Celestial Editors: Renny McFadin Giuliana Angotti Staff: Clare Yee Zoe Davis Sierra Manja Lauren Nash Renny McFadin

Letter from the editors, The theme celestial was popular among our staff this semester. Celestial, as will be shown, can encapsulate many things. Thus this issue is diverse in terms of subjects, art styles, and even mediums. We’ve recieved a plentiful amount of student submissions for the theme, showing how inspiring the skies can be for William & Mary students. This is our first issue as the new Acropolis editors. We’re entirely grateful for this opportunity to show what the artists and art historians at William & Mary think of the cosmos. We hope that the readers enjoy these selected visual and written works that demonstrate the endlessness of the stars, skys, and ultimately, the limitless nature of our students’ creativity. Renny and Giuliana

Celestial (adj.) positioned in or relating to the sky, or outer space as observed in astronomy belonging or relating to heaven supremely good.

Visual Art

CONTENTS 6 ... Celestial Night Skyline by Brieanna Hairston 8 ... The Sleep of Dreams Produces Planets by Kelley Wang

Celestial Night Skyline

“This is a photo of a night skyline including the Tokyo Skytree tower. I like that this photo includes the calm moon and night sky, but also includes the hustle and bustle of the busy Tokyo nightlife. This photo was taken in Oct. 2016. This image also demonstrates the rule of 3rds in the way the foreground background and skyline divide the picture into three distinct chunks with the Skytree seeming to be the focal point. I also like the horizon line and atmospheric depth within this picture.” Brieanna Hairston

The Sleep of Dreams Produces Planets

Oil paint. 24” x 30” c. 2023 Kelley Wang

Art Poetry

CONTENTS 12 ... Twilight by Amanda Hinkle 14 ... une brise, une blessure, une bénédiction by Srija Upadhyay

Twilight by Amanda Hinkle Winging twilight fast descends Even’ star rises at day’s end Darkening shadows flicker nigh Wind’s susurrus wafting by Longing whippoorwill’s parting dirge Fireflies flit at wood’s verge Gloaming moon in heaven aloft Placid lake whispers soft Dreaming night in velvet cast Night has come as day is past

George Inness, The Trout Brook, 1891, oil on canvas

une brise, une blessure, une bénédiction by Srija Upadhyay i. un souffle pour tirer l’avenir le plus flou dans le cercle de possibilité un soupir quand nous nous souvenons le chemin lumineux que la fusée dorée a tracé dans la pénombre glacée ; ton sourire que je garde proche aux nos âmes parmi la suie et les cieux sombres qui sont si chinés avec d’ambre que je presque crois que je pourrais te cacher dans cet océan disparu parmi les cendres.

mais la vérité pire me piège quand j’arrête mon récit soigneux de mes rêves cachés et ne discerne que la déception honnête dans tes yeux— au bout je suis seulement une balourde ombrageux // inspiré par The Falling Rocket

James McNeil Whistler, The Falling Rocket, 1875, oil on canvas

ii. je me leve et regarde audehors et me demande une fois encore pourquoi as-tu quitté ce vallon, lui qui est si beau grâce aux danses de la phalène ? // puis les incendies me réveillent. // la première fois, je pensais qu’ils étaient lucioles. / j’ai mal compris la langue et m’ai dit que, / enfin, / tu as commencé le retour chez nous ; / j’étais tellement déçue quand j’ai / réalisé mon erreur. / néanmoins, j’ai apprécié les chansons— / il était une fois, j’ai aussi écrit / quelques mélodies et elles étaient pleines / de lumière et de goût du melon miel. / erreur encore ; / j’ai trouvé mes cahiers / la semaine dernière et je les ai jetés dans la poubelle / après avoir lu trois lignes. // 16

heureusement, je ne possède plus / la naïveté de mon adolescence : avec dix-neuf ans / je suis certaine que l’âme des feux se manifeste / avec le forme d’une phalène. / oui, je veux dire âme singulière—chaque feu / est simplement un morceau / d’une déité unique. // quoi qu’il en soit, la phalène. / et sa langue croquante / comme le cri de la dernière cendre / dans la cheminée. / et sa danse avec / la beauté du miel et l’intensité d’un volcan. / l’ambre des arbres et le blanc des lumières au bout de temps et l’orange des orages qui divise la rêverie et le cauchemar : / voici les couleurs qui chuchotent les mystères de la vie / au verre des fênetres de la maison que tu as quitté / sans remords. / tu sais—la phalène te souvient / en dépit de la distance entre vous. / en revanche, j’imagine que tes souvenirs d’elle / ressemblent aux lucioles : / PLIP et tu te rappelles presque son nom, / PLIP et elle devient / encore absente. // la dernière fois / que les incendies m’ont rendu visite, / je pensais à toi. / il était une fois, tu as écrit quelques mélodies / avec moi à la fin de chaque jour / quand la pénombre a penché envers / notre petit vallon. // et quand tu as souri, / les réflexions des premières étoiles dans nos yeux / ont dansé avec la beauté d’une phalène et l’intensité de sa flamme. // inspiré par The Fire Wheel 17

James McNeil Whistler, The Fire Wheel, 1875, watercolor

iii. violâtre et leurs rêves souhaitent pour les vagues comme la maîtresse du voisin qui regarde constamment aux nuages

en cherchant pour l’aube qui n’est pas levée depuis septembre en cherchant pour son aube— quelqu’un nouveau qui pourrait lui apporter un peu de ambre. //

inspiré par Moonrise by the Sea

Caspar David Friedrich, Moonrise by the Sea, 1822, oil on canvas

Art Writing

CONTENTS 22 ... “Stellectric” Selections from Mina Loy’s Strangeness is Inevitable Collection by Sage Futrell 26 ... Judith Leyster: The Legacy of a Female Master Painter by Kayleigh Robic 29 ... Detachment from the Celestial in Michi Meko’s The Season’s - Summer (2019) by Logan Mischke 31 ... Trash to Treasure by Clare Yee 33 ... Visualizing Anderson’s “Snow Queen”: Feminine Embodiments of the Supernatural by Zoe Davis 37 ... A Celestial Becoming by Sierra Manja 40 ... Séléné by Lauren Nash 43 ... Grief, Remembrance, and Self-Transcendence in Adrian Piper’s Everything #2.6 & Everything #2.14 by Renny McFadin

“Stellectric” Selections from Mina Loy’s Strangeness is Inevitable Collection by Sage Futrell Mina Loy (1882-1966) is best described as a 20th century Renaissance woman. She was a futurist-modernist poet and playwright, a feminist philosopher, even a designer of bohemian lamps and a surrealist painter. Her magnum opus is “Lunar Baedeker,” a freeform poem that serves as a travel guide to a speculative Las Vegas-style city on the moon. Although it was first published in the early 1920’s, Loy continued to incorporate celestial imagery from “Lunar Baedeker” in her visual works from the ‘30’s. In this analysis, I will focus on this poem’s influences on three paintings from her Strangeness is Inevitable collection: Stars, Moons I, and an untitled piece. All these works were recently housed in the Bowdoin College Museum of Art. The first two pieces I want to highlight are Stars and Moons I, complementary oil paintings that were done on cardboard. The subjects of these mixed-media works are two soft-featured humanoid figures interacting with the cosmos. In Stars, we see each figure facing down, seemingly carrying the weight of the fivepointed stars above them. Moons I imagines these entities as moons themselves breathing life into the stars. As our poet puts it, they are “pocked with personification.” The delicate grays and blues that Loy uses remind me of the comparison of the moon to a “fossil virgin of the skies” in “Lunar Baedeker.” In general, these paintings capture the same dream-like essence of Loy’s written verse.

Mina Loy, Stars, 1932, mixed media on board

Mina Loy, Moons I, 1932, mixed media on board

We see a collage of viscerally cosmic and surrealist motifs in Untitled (Surreal Scene). Unlike the previous paintings we looked at, this piece is made up of sharper gouache sketches on a warm-toned wood panel. The most common interpretation of this piece is that it is feminist commentary on the surrealist art scene of Loy’s time. This work parodies how the different ways that women are typically portrayed in art: as objects (like the statue next to the harp), as beasts (the winged figure or the snake woman on the unicycle), as commodity (like the women being pursued by arms or the larger figure facing us), etc. When relating this piece to “Lunar Baedeker,” I like to imagine this painting as an exhibit straight out of one of the “museums of the moon” that Loy writes of. Perhaps the winged woman to the left of the hourglass is meant to be one of the “peris in livery,” and the larger figure facing us is supposed to be one of the “crystal concubines.” Speculations aside, Mina Loy’s futurist art goes hand-in-hand with her writing.

Mina Loy, Untitled (Surreal Scene), 1935, gouache with collage on panel

Judith Leyster: The Legacy of a Female Master Painter by Kayleigh Robic For hundreds of years after their deaths, the legacies of great female artists went unknown and undiscovered. Written out of history by male historians, these women’s masterpieces were often designated as anonymous pieces of art or wrongfully attributed to their male peers. One such artist, Judith Leyster, a genre, still-life, and portrait painter from Holland, was only rediscovered in 1893, over two hundred years after her death in 1669, by art historian Cornelis Hofstede de Groot. Born and raised in Haarlem, Holland, Judith was not the daughter or relative of a painter, and while the identity of her mentor is unknown, often considered to be Frans de Grebber, she was almost certainly trained by a male professional. In 1633, when she was only 24, Leyster was the first woman to be accepted into a painter’s guild, hers being the Guild of St. Luke, where she later was the first woman to be named a ‘Master Painter’. This designation allowed her to have her own studio, sell her paintings for similar prices to her male colleagues, and train her own students. Leyster is acknowledged by art historians as having pioneered introducing the painting’s light source directly into the art itself. She was also known for the loose brushstrokes she preferred to use in her paintings, whether still life or genre. These brushstrokes give off a hazy, soft feeling to her paintings, often blurring her lines. This style makes her art more realistic. The haziness of her paintings denotes motion and movement, as though she captured a single second of a larger scene into her paintings. Her realistic paintings 26

were also heightened by her ability to capture genuine emotion on the faces of her figures.

Judith Leyster, Self Portrait, 1630, oil on canvas

Only around forty paintings have been attributed to her today, many of which were found in the collection of her husband, Jan Miense Molenaer, after his death. It is not out of the question that she did paint more, but these paintings have been attributed to other artists, like her husband, or that she collaborated with her husband on artworks now solely attributed to him. Most of her paintings have been inscribed with her personal painting signature, an ‘ILS’ and a star. This is a pun on her surname Leyster, which translates to ‘lodestar’. It is this insignia that allowed many of her other works to be attributed to her. 27

Judith Leyster lived a remarkable life in the 17th century. She was able to overcome countless hurdles and achieve recognition as a master painter by her contemporaries despite her gender and background. Despite being lost to time and being nearly written out of history by male art historians, Leyster’s legacy and her work are now viewed as strong examples of the Dutch Golden Age’s characteristic genre paintings.

Judith Leyster, Man Offering Money to a Young Woman, 1631, oil on canvas

Detachment from the Celestial in Michi Meko’s The Season’s - Summer (2019) by Logan Mischke

Michi Meko, The Season’s - Summer, 2019, acrylic, aerosol, graphite, gold leaf, latex, and oil pastel

Housed at the Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, the first thing one notices about Michi Meko’s The Season’s - Summer is its size. It spans about 14 feet across and is 8 feet tall, and stands alone on its own wall. The experience of first viewing the piece is one of immersion into a unique, transient space reminiscent of southern summer nights. Striking yellow marks light up against a deep and textured black surface, creating a blurred illusion of a forest sprinkled with stars and fireflies.

However, upon closer inspection, the piece (composed of acrylic, aerosol, graphite, gold leaf, latex, and oil pastel) rejects the viewer as much as it embraces them. There are cracks on the surface of the work, creating distance and tension. The question of “fireflies or stars’’ distorts into a reappraisal of reality. What is real? Where am I? Where can I go? The suggestion of nostalgia transforms into a reality of confusion and paranoia. The wilderness, while familiar, is not inherently safe. Michi Meko is a black artist born in Atlanta in 1974. Growing up connected to the wilderness through camping, Meko understood the consistent danger present in the world around him. In describing his intentions, he writes “I always, in some ways, try to make a connection with land, but in some ways you feel detached from it. Because a lot of spaces, especially wilderness spaces, don’t seem that invitingto black bodies.” Worry, isolation, and confusion frame and complicate the idyllic depiction of a southern summer night. It is easy to beome lost when you cannot tell the North Star from lightning bugs and you find your selfhood disappearing within the endless night sky.

Trash to Treasure by Clare Yee

James Hampton, The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations’ Millennium General Assembly, 1950-1964, mixed media

The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations’ Millennium General Assembly by James Hampton appears at first as a grand, intricate, spectacle filled with dazzling silver and gold; yet, upon closer view, the work is in fact made of foil, cardboard, jars, and other disposable, everyday materials. The piece reflects the story of the Bible, with the left side telling the Old Testament, the right side telling the New Testament, and the center throne symbolizing the Book of Revelations. Communicating the central message of the piece, the words “FEAR NOT” are written above the throne. The piece is symmetrically balanced within these three parts, although each section contains differing imagery and symbolism, including wings and stars, to relate to their respective sections of the Bible. Space and the relationship between each of the 180 components are 31

especially important to this sculpture, as the work demands a significant amount of space and a certain layout–it cannot be restricted to a small corner of a room. James Hampton created this piece over the span of fourteen years while working as a janitor in Washington, D.C. during the 1950s-1960s. His studio was his rented carriage house, and his medium was trash, debris, and abandoned furniture he collected throughout the years. Inspired by religious visions he had of the Virgin Mary and Moses visiting the nation’s capital, Hampton believed his creation of The Throne was a God-given mission and worked on constructing the piece until his death in 1964, when his landlord found the collection in his home. Although living under humble means, Hampton created one of the most splendid pieces of American art that communicates a profound message of faith and spiritual fulfillment. The piece was held in our Colonial Williamsburg on extended loan from the Smithsonian American Art Museum, but I was lucky enough to see the work in person at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, Missouri. The Throne left a deep impression on me; walking into the exhibit room, the collection of media instantly caught my eye with its glittering opulence. It truly looked like a throne made of pure gold and silver that belonged in a grand cathedral. With time, however, I saw the folds and wrinkles of aluminum foil, tin cans, and cardboard that in actuality constituted the piece. Then, upon learning about Hampton’s story and why he created The Throne, I felt inspired by his devotion to his art and steadfast belief in his connection to God. Hampton dedicated himself to his passion against judgment from others and the challenges he faced in his life, exemplifying his now-immortal message: fear not. 32

Visualizing Anderson’s “Snow Queen”: Feminine Embodiments of the Supernatural by Zoe Davis Hans Christian Anderson’s 1844 story “The Snow Queen” centers around the struggle between good and evil, embodied by the purehearted Gerda and her struggle to find and rescue her friend, Kay, from the titular Snow Queen. As one of Anderson’s most beloved children’s stories, the tale has been accompanied by illustrations from various artists with each reinterpreting and enhancing Anderson’s original story in the process of visualizing his classic tale. Among these visualizations, the works of Edmund Dulac stand out as some of the most interesting and most beautiful. Appearing in the second and seventh subsections of the fairytale, Dulac’s 1911 illustrations “The Snow Queen Flies Through the Winter’s Night” and “The Snow Queen on Her Throne of Ice” are especially arresting, reflecting how the artist interprets and adds to the overall experience of Anderson’s story. Dulac’s depiction of a feminine embodiment of natural and celestial forces demonstrates how these forces alienate even within a beautiful female form (or, rather, the queen’s appearance is so preternaturally beautiful that it leaves the impression of alienation and strangeness). Dulac’s “The Snow Queen Flies Through the Winter’s Night” gives us the artist’s first visualization of the Queen: in what one scholar calls “incontrovertibly one of the most beautiful in early twentieth-century children’s book illustration,” Dulac depicts the Queen perched atop a snowy village roof and gazing down at the surrounding buildings with a seemingly benevolent, motherly expression. She is dynamic, larger than life (being literally larger than the houses that surround her), and ethereally gorgeous. However, she 33

does not immediately stand out — her translucent dress and the deathly pallor of her skin make her almost one with the night sky and the falling snowflakes surrounding her. The Queen’s jewelry adds to her resemblance to the sky and the natural forces she embodies, with her earrings and necklace resembling both snowflakes and stars against a dark sky. Her affinity with the natural world may also point to her hostile role within Anderson’s story and adds an ominous shade to Dulac’s depiction.

Edmund Dulac, The Snow Queen Flies Through the Winter’s Night, 1911, Watercolor, gouache, pen, and ink on paper

Dulac’s second image of the Queen, “The Snow Queen on Her Throne of Ice,” increases the snowy monarch’s affinity with the natural world and distances her from the human sphere. Where

Dulac’s first image depicts a dynamic Queen, she is now static and almost columnar sitting upright on her icy throne. Her initial dynamism is transferred entirely to the sky behind her, with the celestial abstract forms evoking water and the northern lights. The forms within the sky also frame the Queen and act as a secondary crown to the one already wears, reinforcing her presence as a feminine embodiment of natural forces. The Queen herself directly faces and looks out of the picture plane — she acknowledges us, but as intruders into her domain of the natural world (an effect especially powerful since the image would originally be seen in a storybook, a format experienced in leisure within the home). She is no longer the benevolent, motherly goddess figure of Dulac’s first image but is now, more explicitly, a continuation and embodiment of cold, non-nurturant antimother figures of the North. Dulac’s Snow Queen is a beautiful but dangerous agent — like the skies that surround her or the natural forces that she embodies, one may admire them but never get close. His illustrations convey the distance between the reader’s human world and the Queen’s ethereal figure. Dulac adds to Anderson’s original text by not only visualizing the Queen in otherworldly, arresting imagery, but also expanding and complicating Anderson’s story of the struggle between good and evil to include an encounter between the human and (super)natural worlds.

Edmund Dulac, The Snow Queen on Her Throne of Ice 1911, Watercolor, gouache, pen, and ink on paper

A Celestial Becoming by Sierra Manja Intertwined amongst the stars is The Pleiades by Elihu Vedder. In a delicate dance the celestial beings encircle one another. Each is draped in a light dress, where air flows through and intricate folds are produced. String is laced between every floating finger. The golden thread extends overhead and collects in an illuminated mass. The gold is joined with blues and browns from the dusk sky to create a luminous, moving trail. This occurs in a liminal space on the way to an ethereal beyond. The Pleiades is a visual portrayal of the mythological Greek narrative. The Pleiades are the daughters of Atlas and Pleione. To combat Orion’s pursuit of the girls, Atlas ensures the seven sisters’ protection for eternity. Six of the sisters are raised to the night sky in the form of stars. Vedder depicts the story’s apex, the glorious transformative process of catasterism. The six points of their constellation exclude one sister. For the central painted figure leans out apart from the group. Her severed string allows her to venture beyond. According to the myth, the seventh sister falls deeply in love with a mortal and hides away from the rest. Vedder’s work with oil paint allowed for the creation of a mystical scene. Upon a canvas surface, the artist likely began with a colored background. This preliminary layer results in an underlying muted tone. Prior to the painting of the scene, Vedder would have added pigment combined with oil to areas of light and shadow. Special attention was paid to the glow radiating from the stars and the shadows cast by the dancing girls. 37

Vedder’s artistic subjects display an intimate connection between European culture and intellectualism. Despite being American-born, Vedder spent the majority of his life in Europe, receiving his artistic schooling in France and Italy, ultimately settling in Italy in 1866, where he painted The Pleiades. Perhaps if he had resided in America his art would have been more strictly defined by the contemporary realism movement. Rather, the artist became well acquainted with enigmatic themes. The Pleiades is representative of Vedder’s notability in allegorical and symbolic subjects. In his time abroad, Vedder was introduced to a revitalized ancient text that would alter the trajectory of his art career. In 1859, the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam reemerged due to an English translation. This eleventh-century Persian text pondered the meaning of love, death, a higher power, and an afterlife. Vedder’s most renowned project was an illustrated version of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. This incorporated The Pleiades, who aligned with Khayyam’s horoscope. The incorporation of The Pleiades in the text pushes the philosophy of the text beyond this world into the next. The Pleiades emanate a sense of mysticism I initially struggled to conceptualize. The work in isolation had a sole interpretation, a mythological tale of transfiguration. The Rubaiyat text facilitated a more extensive analysis. As The Pleiades advances the narrative of the Rubaiyat, the text creates a new meaning for the painting. In connection with the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, The Pleiades define the celestial nature within and beyond mortal life.

Elihu Vedder, The Pleiades, 1885, oil on canvas

Séléné by Lauren Nash A poem that accompanied the painting at its exhibition at the salon in 1879 and which was written by Albert Aublet’s friend, Charles Grandmougin. Barely hatched, the silver stars are trembling, At the foot of the golden mountains the lake becomes obscure, And, through thin pink clouds, she is sailing, The blonde Séléné is awaking into the azure; Like a rounded arch, she is floating and rising, Slowly stretching her beautiful rejuvenated body, Eyes closed, and savoring at the heart of the infinity, All the delights from the night and the dreaming.

-Charles Grandmougin

As the poem suggests, Selene floats gracefully through the morning sky, a contrast to the scraggy horizon that lies below. Her luminous figure stands out against the rays of dawn, entrancing the viewer. There is almost a sort of majesty to the scenery, making it worthy of Selene’s divine presence. The sun’s radiance reflects on the clouds, allowing them to shine against the darker sky and mountains. Such use of contrasting light and hue help illustrate this transition from night to day. One can almost feel the drowsiness emanating from Selene herself as she stretches to the heavens above, appearing to be waking from a deep slumber. The dreamlike quality of the painting lulls the viewer into a peaceful trance, a distraction from the mayhem and malice of daily life. 40

Albert Aublet painted Selene as an oil on canvas in 1880. For those unfamiliar, the figure in the painting is named Selene, otherwise known as the original Greek goddess of the moon, before Artemis came along. She was a Titan, born to Hyperion and Theia, which was the subset of Greek gods that existed before the well known Olympians. Aublet’s version of the goddess differs from those of antiquity because she is posed completely nude, lacking both her chariot and moon crown. One famous quote from Homer describes Selene as “a radiance from heaven” who “embraces the earth” and causes the dark air to become bright with her rays that “fill the sky.” This seems like a fitting description when compared to Aublet’s painting. The painting’s tie to the classics makes sense as Albert Aublet’s works span across a wide range of content, including several literature references. Aublet was known for including many different genres in his work, with many influenced by his travels to different countries and the French town of Trepot. In addition, his participation in literary groups inspired the creation of paintings that combined supernatural characteristics with literary realism. His painting of Selene demonstrates this love of literature as well by incorporating fantastical elements, reminiscent of a fairy tale or myth. Aublet captures Selene in such a way that feels timeless by taking inspiration from antiquity and incorporating more modern components as well. Selene herself looks very classical in the way that she is depicted. However, unlike many classical paintings where the scenery is cluttered with figures and symbolism, this depiction is rather bare bones. It makes the painting appear sleeker and simplified, similar to more modern art pieces. And in a way, she is timeless. Back in time it was very common to retell Greek 41

myths, which included many stories about Selene’s romantic exploits. In response, this inspired many artists to create works of art depicting the goddess, like Aublet. Even today, many continue to retell these stories and appreciate classically inspired artwork, allowing the legend of Selene to live on.

Albert Aublet, Séléné, 1880, Oil on canvas

Grief, Remembrance, and Self-Transcendence in Adrian Piper’s Everything #2.6 & Everything #2.14 by Renny McFadin Adrian Piper (1948-) seeks to address the fundamental nature underlying human existence in her art. A highly Conceptualist artist, Piper’s work emphasizes critical thought over the actual art itself. As an artist, Piper directly addresses issues of gender, race, and the self. She is as much of an artist as she is a philosopher; her art is created to make the viewer critically analyze both themselves and the systems they live in. Christopher Knight, of The Los Angeles Times, says that “experiencing the work can feel like homework.” I disagree. While Piper’s works force one to reflect inward, outward, and in between, they are ultimately deeply and unapologetically emotionally provocative. Everything #2.6 and Everything #2.14 are two pieces in a series of photograph overlays made in 2003, all bearing the same mantra: “Everything will be taken away.” Everything #2.6 and Everything #2.14 are the only two pieces with a celestial overlay. The other pieces are done on graph paper, with the same mortality-provoking phrase, but the faces of individuals are deliberately scratched out. In contrast these two pieces do not have the faces scratched out; we can see the numerous faces in Everything #2.14, and the lone face in Everything #2.6. The inclusion of these individuals’ faces serves to make Piper’s message that much more poignant: “Everything will be taken away.” The other images seem as if the individuals have already been “taken;” their faces–and along with them–their memories are no longer there. But in these two pieces it reads almost as a threat, the deliberate use of the word “take” further highlighting the fact. These are the people that you will eventually lose. 43

This seems uncomfortably macabre. And that’s because it is. However if one critically examines the art and their emotions, you can find a more optimistic take. When I view these images, the overlaying of the galaxy lends itself to a less nihilistic interpretation. Everything will be taken away, but it still will have existed. Individuals may pass–as shown by the etched out faces in the other works–but as long as we keep them in conversation they cannot truly be “taken.” We can accept that everything can and will be taken away while simultaneously realizing that this does not truly mean that they are gone. Everything #2.14 and Everything #2.6 provide a beacon of hope in a rather bleak stock phrase.

Adrian Piper, Everything #2.6, 2003, photocopied photograph on paper, sanded with sandpaper, overprinted with inkjet text

I write this article in the wake of my father’s passing. While the analysis I have just posited may not be Adrian Piper’s intentions, Everything #2.6 and Everything #2.14 did inspire a critical engagement with myself and my grief. My father was the ultimate nihilist (on the surface), so “Everything will be taken away” is quite evocative of him. And it has proven to be true with his sudden passing. However, just as I have shown in my interpretation of Piper’s work, my father may have been “taken” away but he is not truly gone. Acceptance of the futile seems to be Piper’s intention with these pieces, but that does not mean that everything has to be valueless. So while for some this critical thought caused by Piper’s pieces may feel like “homework,” to me it is an active exercise in remembrance, grief, and ultimately, self-transcendence.

Adrian Piper, Everything #2.14, 2003, photocopied photograph on paper, sanded with sandpaper, overprinted with inkjet text

Bibliography “Stellectric” Selections from Mina Loy’s Strangeness is Inevitable Collection by Sage Futrell “Exhibition: Mina Loy: Strangeness is Inevitable.” Bowdoin College Museum of Art. https://www.bowdoin.edu/art-museum/exhibitions/2023/mina-loy.html Loy, Mina. “Lunar Baedeker.” The Lost Lunar Baedeker: Poems of Mina Loy (1996). https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47695/lunar-baedeker Judith Leyster: The Legacy of a Female Master Painter by Kayleigh Robic Broude, Norma and Mary D. Garrard. “Feminist Art History and the Academy: Where are We Now?” Women’s Studies Quarterly 25, no. 1 and 2 (Spring Summer 1997): 212-222. Hofrichter, Frima Fox. “Leyster Judith.” Grove Art Online. 2003. https://www. oxfordartonline.com/groveart/view/10.1093/gao/9781884446054.001.0001/oao9781884446054-e-7000050810. Honig, Elizabeth Alice. “The Art of Being ‘Artistic’: Dutch Women’s Creative Practices in the 17th Century.” Women’s Art Journal 22, no. 2 (Autmn and Winter 2001): 31-39. Mauritshuis, The Hague. “Judith Leyster: Man Offering Money to a Young Woman.” Painted in 1631. https://www.mauritshuis.nl/en/our-collection/ artworks/564-man-offering-money-to-a-young-woman/ Detachment from the Celestial in Michi Meko’s The Season’s - Summer (2019) by Logan Mischke “The Dirty South: Contemporary Art, Material Culture, and the Sonic Impulse.” The Virginia Museum of Fine Arts. Large Text Guide: 18. https://vmfa.museum/ mlit/wp-content/uploads/sites/7/2021/05/DS_LargePrintGuide.pdf

Trash to Treasure by Clare Yee Barbour, J. Hunter. “The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations’ General Assembly.” CW Journal. Colonial Williamsburg: Spring 2004. https://research. colonialwilliamsburg.org/Foundation/journal/Spring04/throne.cfm Bottoms, Greg. “Patron Saint of Thrown-Away Things.” Creative Nonfiction, no. 17 (2001): 58-66. https://www.jstor.org/stable/44362974 “The Throne of the Third Heaven of the Nations’ General Assembly.” Smithsonian American Art Museum. https://americanart.si.edu/artwork/throne-third-heavennations-millennium-general-assembly-9897 Visualizing Anderson’s “Snow Queen”: Feminine Embodiments of the Supernatural by Zoe Davis Conrad, JoAnn. “Into the ‘Land of Snow and Ice’: Racial Fantasies in the FairyTale Landscapres of the North.” Narrative Culture 5, no. 2 (2018): 255-90. https:// doi.org/10.13110/narrcult.5.2.0255 Ewers, Hans-Heino. “Male Adolescence in German Fairy-Tale Novellas of the Enlightenment, Romanticism, and ‘Biedermeier.’” Marvels & Tales 17, no. 1 (2003): 75-85. http://www.jstor.org/stable/41389900 Joseph, Michael. “Seeing Anderson as He Isn’t.” The Princeton University Library Chronicle 68, no. 3 (2007): 851-80. https://doi.org/10.25290/ prinunivlibrchro.68.3.0851 A Celestial Becoming by Sierra Manja hoakley. “The Story in Paintings: Elihu Vedder.” The Eclectic Light Company. April 12, 2016. https://eclecticlight.co/2016/04/12/the-story-in-paintings-elihuvedder/ Yount, Sylvia. “Elihu Vedder’s Rubáiyát: Art and Enterprise.” American Art 29, no. 2 (Summer 2015). https://doi.org/10.1086/683354

Séléné by Lauren Nash Mills, Sarah. “Celestial Bodies in Art - Comets, Planets and Stars.” DailyArt Magazine. August 8, 2022. https://www.dailyartmagazine.com/flying-objects-inart-celestial-bodies/ “Selene.” Sotheby’s. https://www.sothebys.com/en/auctions/ecatalogue/2017/ european-art-n09648/lot.11.html Grief, Remembrance, and Self-Transcendence in Adrian Piper’s Everything #2.6 & Everything #2.14 by Renny McFadin “Adrian Piper: A Synthesis of Institutions, 1965-2016,” The Museum of Modern Art, 2018. https://www.moma.org/calendar/exhibitions/3924 Knight, Christopher. “The artwork of Adrian Piper makes a stern proclamation: ‘Everything will be taken away.’” Los Angeles Times. October 13, 2023. https:// www.latimes.com/entertainment/arts/la-et-cm-adrian-piper-hammer-20181012story.html Lanay, Jessica. “Fuck It, Let’s Boogie (or Everything Will Be Taken Away): Adrian Piper’s A Synthesis of Institutions: 1965-2016.” BOMB Magazine. July 9, 2018. https://bombmagazine.org/articles/fuck-it-lets-boogie-or-everything-will-betaken-away-adrian-pipers-a-synthesis-of-intuitions-1965-2016/

William and Mary Studio Art Major Minimum Required Credit Hours: 37

Core Requirements ART 211 - Drawing and Color, and ART 212 - 3D Design: Form and Space ART 461 - Capstone I ART 462 - Capstone II ART 463 - Capstone III (2) 200-level Art History courses at, or above ARTH 230 (1) 300-level Art History course at, or above ARTH 330 *17 Additional Credits in Two or Three Dimensional Focus Studies

William and Mary Art History Major Minimum Required Credit Hours: 33

Foundational Courses (3) 200 level courses at or above ARTH 230 to ARTH 299 ART 211 - Drawing and Color, or ART 212 - 3D Design: Form and Space Core Requirements ARTH 331 - The Curatorial Project ARTH 333 - Theories and Methods of Art History ARTH 493 - Capstone Seminar *9 Additional Credits at or above ARTH 330 and 1 Elective Course