Word: salon
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...crammed pantheon of the briefly new, is the Biennial Exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York City, the 1985 version of which closed on Sunday. The importance of the biennial lies in the absence of other exhibitions that do the same job. It is a salon, though a very biased one (it scants realist painting, for instance, in favor of more nominally "advanced" styles), and as such it is the one regular national survey of American art held by a major U.S. museum. It pretends to be plain reportage, but it is nothing of the sort...
Then she is back for her best number, carried onstage in a reclining posture by her backup dancers, looking like Madam Recamier in her salon, twirling a long rope of pearls and camping a mile a minute. "This is," she sings to a pop reggae beat, "a material world. And I am" pause "a material girl." Luxuriating in materialism, poking fun at greediness -- she is performing for adolescents who feel deprived if their cars don't have quadraphonic cassette players -- Madonna is singing that she is available to the highest bidder, then denying that. And at the end, she pulls...
...have many Americans coming in here now, and they are buying some of our best furs," says Claire de Montesquiou of Revillon, where a trench-style coat in black mink sells for $7,600, in contrast to $10,200 at the Revillon salon in Saks Fifth Avenue. The most expensive fur coats in France are the rare Russian lynx. Revillon sold one this winter for $303,000, but thinks it indiscreet to say who bought it. Eat your heart out, Lorelei...
...change my style, which I acquired, as you can imagine, by dint of stubborn labor," he wrote to a critic shortly before his death. He wanted his work to be a homemade replica of the values enshrined in the Ecole des Beaux-Arts, as manifested in the big French Salon painters: Jean-Leon Gerome, Adolphe-William Bouguereau, Felix-Auguste Clement. He loved their important subjects, their grasp of the colonial exotic, their professionalism and high finish. So when artists 40 years his junior like Picasso and Delaunay paid him their semireverent homages, he took them as his due without interesting...
Like many sweet old buffers, he admired authority. He painted the artists lining up for the Salon des Independants as an army of black-clad troops, carrying paintings of identical size; it was a parody of the military metaphor of the avant-garde. Rousseau wanted honors, like his heroes. When the French government sent him a decoration by mistake he would not send it back, and obstinately wore its violet rosette for the rest of his life. It was the Palmes Academiques--a serendipitous fluke, in view of his obsession with exotic scenes of distant jungles...