For those not in possession of feet that can easily walk to the Met on the first springlike day of the year, allow me to personally escort you via dreamland for the next 5 minutes.
Playing with Pictures: The Art of Victorian Photocollage really hit me hard. Grace suggested I go and I was completely entranced. I was that girl who devours every inch of written word on the walls and lingers too long with her nose pressed to each and every piece. Behavior which I tend to find sanctimonious in others but don't generally hesitate in doling out myself when the time is right.
The show focused on a trend of the mid 19th century- aristocratic women painting vignettes and the pasting photographs of the disembodied heads of their friends and family into the scene. The resulting albums are wildly clever and now my conception of victorian stuffiness is totally skewed.
Not to mention these rich ladies were charming painters, in and of themselves.
Just another reason why I should have been to born to Victorian aristocracy. Instead, I got yoga doing hippie parents in 1984. Not complaining..... Only a little.
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