Writes Peter Schjeldahl, in "When New York Ruled the World/A spectacular show of art and documentation at the Jewish Museum captures New York in 1962-64, an era of near-weekly advances in all of the arts" (The New Yorker).
I like the word "underknown." It's underused.
And "tatterdemalion." There's a vocabulary word for you. It just means a person wearing tatters. Though it sounds like something from the 19th century, it goes back to the 1600s. And Peter Schjeldahl has used it before:
April 2003: "[P]olitical correctness... is apparent in the fashionable euphemism for outsider artists as 'self-taught.' As if any true artist were not self-taught!... Such misguided compunctions blunt the jagged, tatterdemalion otherness that is central to our experience of a Wölfli, a Darger, or a Ramirez."
September 2003: "Shallow but dazzling, Matta... was a toast of the uptown art world, where the 'imported surrealists,' in Clement Greenberg’s contemptuous phrase, formed a deluxe avant-garde remote from that of the tatterdemalion American painters."
April 2015: "[T]he Italian architect Renzo Piano’s ingenious building... stands at the southern end of the High Line and hard by the Hudson River, in what remains of the tatterdemalion meatpacking district."
September 2003: "Shallow but dazzling, Matta... was a toast of the uptown art world, where the 'imported surrealists,' in Clement Greenberg’s contemptuous phrase, formed a deluxe avant-garde remote from that of the tatterdemalion American painters."
April 2015: "[T]he Italian architect Renzo Piano’s ingenious building... stands at the southern end of the High Line and hard by the Hudson River, in what remains of the tatterdemalion meatpacking district."
19 comments:
I would posit that using the word tatterdemalion more than once in your life is a strong indicator of self-indulgent writing.
The Rolling Stones - Shattered (see lyrics)
According to my old Random House College Edition Dictionary, the 'demallion' was rhymed with 'Italian'.
Peter Schjeldahl clearly enjoys the highfalutin language in his articles, but at least they all make sense. I've pushed my way through plenty of overly abstruse art reviews that made me think "Does this actually mean anything, or am I just stupid?" (And also, "Should I stop using words like 'abstruse'?")
I love that word "advance". As if art is like science that just gets better and better: We used to think phlogiston caused fire; now we know it's oxidation. But art is much more like fashion: This year skirts are high! This year skirts are low! This year there are no skirts!
New York used to do a lot of things right before they fell into perpetual shithole city status.
I still like to visit to see friends and eat great food, but it's a disaster zone.
‘tatterdemalion’
William F. Buckley to the white courtesy phone…
He's fun to read - never dull - often arch.
Schkeldahl, son of the man who invented the airsickness bag, is feuding with his daughter over her Daddy didn't love me memoir. Not a great Dad, if that matters.
"...was a toast of the uptown art world..." sounds odd to my ear. I mean, it's 'so-and-so is the toast of the town,' not *a* toast of the town. If you can have 2 toasts, you can have 387 toasts. Who can deal with that much toast? Definitely not me.
This post is a great example of why everyone except New Yorkers hates New Yorkers. No one really cares about your minute art scenes. We don't really care what you think about much of anything.
--- Signed the rest of America
it's interesting, reading about some of these underknown words
"This post is a great example of why everyone except New Yorkers hates New Yorkers. No one really cares about your minute art scenes. We don't really care what you think about much of anything.
--- Signed the rest of America"
And New Yorkers don't care at all (with good reason) what the rest of America thinks of them or anything else.
LOL Jeff Gee
Also, I believe his landing gear is, how you say, down.
Who can deal with that much toast? Definitely not me.
wouldn't it depend on how much jam you had? And Good jam too, not that yucky strawberry jelly stuff
As a Jew (boy, do I love to preface with that, just to punk the leftoid Tikkun Olamniks), I have to ask; what does this lovely word salad have to do with anything Jewish, let alone being in a Jewish museum?
That may have been a great time for New York and its art scene, but isn't 1962 to 1964 a very thin slice of time? Blink, or get really hungover, as many artists did, and you'd have missed the whole era.
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