Friday, October 31, 2014

DIA DE LOS MUERTOS


LOURMARIN    
(Provence,France)
31 October 2006 
DIA DE LOS MUERTOS
‘Loss in South Africa: Doubly Robbed!

Not only does the ‘Grim Reaper’ harvest our beloved with his Scythe but we are now also prevented from mourning them at their graves.

I visit the ‘Cemetaire’ of Lourmarin, which is gently cushioned at the top of a hill, sloping down at the back. The elaborate, ancient graves nestle between low walls and ravaged cypresses.
In a peaceful little corner, low-lying branches have been cut away to expose a small forest of vertical, cylindrical stems, the canopy above, gently protecting the grave enfolded in its leafy cave.
Countless seasons have transformed tombstones into bumpy, monochromatic palettes. Various sizes of velvety dots, some flat and others the shape of chocolate truffles, merge and soften the iron and concrete homes of the dead.
White, beige, brown and charcoal-black, green and rust, gently covers the tombs of their beloved’s dust.
I have no fear, walking between Angels made of stone. Eyes cast to heaven and feathery wings, flowing hair and robes, all carved from rock…. 

Timeless horizontal posies of multi-colored porcelain flowers, bedeck the surfaces, factory fresh, without crack, chip or blemish….

Shoulders hunched, his face darkly stubbled, a widower softly shuffles past on fine gravel, thick lashes wet with tears…...

Family mausoleums, grouped together on the terraced slope below, unite the bones of generations of relations.

Not only do we not dare visit the graves of our finally lost friends and families, in life, whom we love, are scattered across the globe.
Once dead, the ritual of remembering with respect, is lost, and eventually, the memory too.

A crisp breeze ruffles the petals of bouquets of fragrant flowers and dusts away the repression of memories, enabling me to recall countless visits together with my parents, to the family grave in the Rebecca Street Cemetery.
Our floral offerings were put in vases, which were positioned on all four corners of the granite tomb.

My task was to rinse the removable ceramic or metal vases, under the tap, which nestled between the graves some distance away. The hem of my dress would offer transparent comfort, as barrier between my toddler’s hand and flaming steel carrying lukewarm water. Sacrifice it was not, as my lips, prepared in pout, would kiss the Angel sentries encountered on my way…..

 Our black Desoto desolately stood under the stringy shade of a Peppercorn tree, boot raised and filled with stacks of old newspapers and watering can. After the silent ritual of arranging the flowers, the stalks and leaves that had been trimmed off, would be neatly rolled up in the paper, scattered images proclaiming the Profumo Scandal or Sputniks to the moon. The vibrating air, cocooning the car, would sting your face with a wave of steam, as you respectfully slammed shut, the doors.

Then, the only fear I had was that of sliding into the world of death beneath the soft graveyard-ground.

 This ritual with our dead was routinely carried out, as an unquestionable part of life and my parents would be in pensive mood for some time, after these dedicated excursions of remembrance.

The hot sun was kind enough to wait until we turned the corner, before sucking the moisture from the modestly colored flowers and shriveling their tilting heads. We knew this to be true, because this image awaited us on our return.
The red and moist ground-heaps of the fresh graves, were always covered with layers of multicolored bouquets. The sun would even attempt to drink from the glass-covered, plastic wreaths, but did not succeed. This we also knew to be true since the little condensed drops would be hanging by their necks from the inside of the curved glass covers and drop onto the handwritten cards below, streaking and smudging the sad words with tears of plastic flora.
 
I feel angry and sad since today I have been reminded of what I have forgotten I’ve lost.
Aleta Michaletos 
www.aletamichaletos.com

Monday, August 4, 2014

'BIRDS & BARS- NEW YORK 2000'


'BIRDS & BARS - NEW YORK 2000'

It was October 2000 and I was on a week long, whirlwind business trip to New York and Miami before my premiere 2 month sojourn at the Cite Internationale des Arts in Paris. (Nov. & Dec. 2000)

The plan was, to go up the Empire State building in the morning and then, ‘do’ the Twin Towers in the evening.
  
Encapsulated in an authentic Art Deco elevator and rapidly ascending several levels at a gasp, I was swooning in a time-warp, imagining myself cossetted in the stilettos, furs and sequined satin numbers of several 1920’s movie sirens: Mary Pickford, Lillian Gish, Greta Garbo, Theda Bara…… one for each of the 86 floors, as the numbers lit up on the polished brass of the elevator wall….. However, on exiting at the observatory platform, the sharp air stung my skin and my attention was riveted on 3 things that had changed since my maiden visit 24 years ago.

    1) Protective fencing had been erected on top of the concrete parapet.
2)  I was staring at a mini-Trafalgar Square! Doves were flying and sitting wherever they could and it fascinated me that they were completely comfortable at such high   altitudes. Did they ever descend? Get their claws on the ground? Indeed, was there any necessity? I joked that in New York even the doves were ‘high flyers’!
3) It was my first glimpse of the Twin Towers on the horizon…

The view was breathtaking, whilst lovely ‘Casper the Friendly Ghost’- clouds, were waving at their reflections in the Hudson River below…..
 First of all, my business associate took a picture of me. Then, the Gauntlet was mine, to see what I could achieve with metal bars and birds, that were obstructing my view, whichever direction I pointed my camera at… It was a hopeless case!
Then, pushing the lens past the metal bars, I decided to focus on the Twin Towers, which became the cemetery of my composition, etched on the horizon, against the dazzling, dappled river.
The organic and moving shapes of clouds and the river snaking along the curved outline of the land, beautifully contrasted with the harsh and geometric shapes of the huddled and rigid skyscrapers.
I remarked to my associate that what I was looking at, in effect resembled a ‘giant cemetery’…

The silvery, circular outline of a cloud that tried to imitate a saint’s halo, or a wreath, silently drifted in the pale blue sky……..

Highly satisfied with the angle and image I had in my viewfinder, I was about to press the release button, when my view was blurred! In shock, I jerked back my head and a few centimeters from my hand, casually perched on the parapet, was a majestic dove……serenely ruffling and vibrating it’s feathers, with no intention of taking flight……
Now that I had found my perfect angle, powerful gusts of wind were tugging at the hem of my skirt and sweeping strands of hair across my face. The solitary cloud was now moving in an animated way and I was anxious to get a move on too…….

In a situation such as this, where rapid decisions have to be made, there is an unexpected 3rd force that forces you to compensate.
There and then, I made a decision to ‘make peace’ with the dove and incorporate its blurry image into my shot.
As my finger tentatively and hardly audible, pushed down on the trigger, the dove moved ever so slightly and I gently re-positioned myself, trying not to startle it, or lose the perfection of my angle. Just then, the dove’s head slid underneath the Twin Towers and accepted it as its crown! My immediate reaction and the noisy mechanical action, sent a stream of dove perfume up my nostrils, as it spread its wings and noisily flapped towards the ground!  
 The afternoon was spent lazing away in a Gelateria in Brooklyn.  Egalitarian parents were gallantly pushing padded strollers, their squealing, chubby, fashionably dressed babies, licking and dripping over-sized ice creams, on a cone. I was sinking into a slow-motion ‘My Fair Lady’ fantasy…….
Abruptly my senses revived and trained as a typically alert South African female, it was impossible to ignore the fact, that although there was no grass to be seen, the possibility existed that not with standing there may be a snake on the pavement! It was with concern that I remarked: ‘These Americans are in a dream world, so confident and so relaxed, they would be oblivious, even if a plane passed overhead at this very moment and dropped its deadly cargo…..’

As planned, we reserved the evening for our visit to the Twin Towers, steeling ourselves against the currents of icy winds, in the desolate banking district.
Two charged images are ingrained in my memory:

      1) The overwhelming size of the ground floor entrance, which was large enough to allow a small plane to safely perform an internal examination.
2) The complete lack of perception of distance and reality that I experienced as I stood, (at the cafeteria situated at the top), my nose disbelievingly pressed against a sheet of thick glass. I had the sensation of flying and floating, whilst observing pinpricks of light, as Pandora’s Box overflowed and spilled a river of ruby and diamond necklaces, which were silently flowing towards some distant destination….  

I only developed the photographs on my return from Paris, January 2001.

 I didn’t feel like a Gypsy shuffling through those few thousand unconnected images, until my eye fell on an unusual photograph that instantly jolted my memory! On closer inspection, I was flooded with the emotions of that day and with the added realization that also I, had eventually returned home after what seemed like light years of fantastic journeys.
 A title for the photograph immediately suggested itself to me and was born:’WHAT GOES UP, MUST COME DOWN.....CROWNING CAPITALISM.'

You can imagine the shivers that went up and down my spine on the 11 September 2001, as I stared in disbelief at the developing drama on our television screen…..

© Copyright reserved Aleta Michaletos 2000 (images and text)

www.aletamichaletos.com




Thursday, July 24, 2014

WONDERING/WANDERING MIND

WONDERING/WANDERING MIND

I love going for walks and preferably alone. The reason for my solitude is that I love been unexpectedly confronted along my way by either the original or the mundane.....and then my mind starts wondering.....
Of course that is the reason why I have legs...so that my mind can wander....

www.aletamichaletos.com

Friday, June 6, 2014

WHEN ART & POLITICS PEACEFULLY COLIDE



The writing returns to the wall with an historical art exhibition by international award winning and avant garde Pretoria based artist, ALETA MICHALETOS.

She feels comfortable when referred to as a contemporary idealist, visionary and alchemist.

With her pioneering spirit and the forging of her own unconventional route, she has managed to blaze her own path and which inter alia led her to the United Nations in 1994, where she joined the ranks of Dali, Chagall, Miro, Rauchenberg and others, by winning the UN Art; Philatelic Award!

Well-seasoned, ‘PRECIOUS CIRCLE’ has now come full circle and together with the 3 equally iconic, symbolical portraits of Mandela and a single oil painting: ‘United at last in the Cause of Peace’ (2002), this valuable collection celebrates the 20 years of our democracy and pays homage to Nelson Mandela in several thought provoking ways. It also celebrates the 20th anniversary since it was first exhibited at the Pretoria Art Museum in 1994. 
 

Witness the visible proof of this local artist’s miraculous journey which lasted 6 years, as she documents the hopes, dreams and aspirations of a society in transition during the bleakest time in South African history.

Through the transforming processes of Alchemy, her daily collection of and the gradual accumulation of positive headlines, which she single-handedly sourced from the media over a period of 6 years (1989-1994), unexpectedly ended on the day of Mandelas inauguration 10th May 1994. The astonishing result was 50 positive collages, which when placed side by side, span a monumental 22 meters. 

It is with good reason that her life motto has become: Baby steps, Giant strides, Quantum leaps!

Don’t miss this opportunity to pause and reflect in front of these significant works (National Treasure created from trash!) which are as timely as they were 20 years ago and which have been a silent testimony at the Pretoria Art Museum since 7th November 2013 (exactly one month before Mandela passed away). They are still on view until the middle of July 2014.

Hear about the catalysts, organic development and process of transformation, which resulted in ‘PRECIOUS CIRCLE’ and flowing from that, the first portrait of Nelson Mandela: ‘REBIRTH’ (which won the United Nations Art & Philatelic Award in 1994) as well as the 2 additional portraits: ‘GOD BLESS MADIBA’  and ‘MANDALA MANDELA’. (All 3 exhibited at the UN Headquarters in 1994)

For several decades Aleta’s gradual sense of a Society that was ‘out of order’, culminated during the late 80’s when destructive atmospheric conditions  became unbearable.

Identifying with the country’s agony and her own feelings of despair and helplessness (caused by traumatic media coverage of political events) MICHALETOS  felt compelled to reverse the trend.

Her way of taking it upon herself to transform the situation through direct intervention and so becoming a protagonist, was the conceptualization of her tour de force, ‘PRECIOUS CIRCLE’.

Remembering ‘in the beginning was the word’, she found solace in words and for the next 6 years, a seemingly chaotic collection of news clippings of positive headlines (collected entirely from ordinary Newsprint) was methodically arranged to create 50 orderly collages and entirely transformed the ‘war of words’, into a monumental ‘wall of words’.

  Michaletos sincerely believes that by paying attention to words, you activate, energize and release the power of the ideas which are encapsulated in the words themselves, thereby bringing them to life.

They then become catalysts for action and change. As in themselves words are impartial, it is up to you, the spectator, to choose which words you wish to energize.

It is your own responsibility to build character or a spirit of endurance and by the consistent and frequent repetition of ‘Baby steps’, which transform into ‘Giant Strides….. the process of accumulation results in the achievement of ‘Quantum Leaps’ and the eventual Triumph of the human spirit!

OUR DESTINY IS NOT A MATTER OF CHANCE BUT A MATTER OF CHOICE & CHANGE

Finding better words for a better world, and undertaking actions where words speak loudly, the walls of division became the catalyst for a 22 meter long wall of unison.

Now, as we stand in front of PC we are called to order in quiet Monastic Contemplation and come to realize that we can transform the world word by word.


Copyright ©Aleta Michaletos


Sunday, May 18, 2014

MICHAELIS TO MICHALETOS



MICHAELIS TO MICHALETOS   -International Museum Day 18 May

'The Pretoria Art Museum came into being in order to house the City Councils growing art collection which had been built up since the early nineteen-thirties. Originally the collection was housed in the City Hall and consisted mainly of the Michaelis Bequest and a small collection of artworks by South African artists. The bequest by Lady Michaelis in 1932, after her husband Sir Max Michaelis’ death, comprised mainly paintings from 17th century Dutch and Flemish artists.

When, in 1955, Pretoria celebrated its Centenary, one of the plans arising from the occasion was the decision to build a permanent art museum. The outcome was one of the most attractive and most modern museums in South Africa. The first sod was turned in Arcadia Park on 26 January 1962 and the foundation stones were laid on 19 October 1962. The Pretoria Art Museum, inaugurated in May 1964, is the city’s only fine arts museum.'

On the 5th November 2013, (exactly one month before Mandela passed away) the 54 art pieces for my solo exhibition at the Pretoria Art Museum, was transported through the exhibition hall where the MICHAELIS collection is housed, to where it is currently still on exhibition (until the middle of July 2014) in main hall flanking the left of the Museum entrance.  

The slogan for this years International Museum Day is: 

MUSEUM COLLECTIONS CREATE CONNECTIONS

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