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Joseph Cornell: One Of The Most Celebrated Collage Artists In The World

Joseph Cornell was one of the many American collage artists yet might far better possibly be described as being a homebody artist. Cornell, a lean, grey wraith of a gentleman, was like among the odd-duck daydreamers in an Anne Tyler book. Day in and day out, he sat home on Utopia Parkway and sipping herbal tea in his tiny kitchen while he wrote in his journals as well as mused on ballet dancers who had been around a hundred years earlier. He devoted most of his life in a frame house found in New York, together with his mother and his disabled sibling. Cornell had no existence to speak of, no close friends as well as very little when it comes to actual physical interactions. What he did possess was his art, box assemblages. This reclusive, long-beaked man would sally out on modest expeditions of knowledge, scavenging for artifacts of the past throughout New York junk merchants and flea markets. To Cornell they were the strata of repressed recollection, a jumble of factors ready to be grafted and mated to each other.

Making use of pieces of the real world, Joseph Cornell built small dreamlike realms. A portion of a zodiacal map, a fascinating postage stamp, a cracked wine glass, a remnant of clay bubble pipe, a colored ball or two: he arranged parts like these behind the glass front of a wooden case to make a whole which embodied his compulsive yet generally charming nostalgias. He would most likely arrange his discoveries into their peculiar classes and archive all of them with boxes of his own souvenirs, such as movie stars or perhaps ballet dancers he'd never met; and from all of them he made boxes. He will tinker with mixed media paintings for many years. It is full of emblems of expeditions Cornell never ever took, a small container of mummified waves and shrunken exotic coasts, peninsulas, planets, items from compartments. Even the map on the inside of the lid, cut from some 19th German graph publication, represents an excessively distant coastline. Our planet is displayed not as our daily home but as one unusual world among others.

Cornell was particularly affected by the collages of Victorian metal engravings in Max Ernst's collection La Femme 100 tetes. However nowhere in Surrealism can there be images that can compare with his. Cornell's imagery had to do with childhood infancy without anger or desire. Sometimes he'd crack the glass pane which protected the items in the box which suggests that the sanctuary of creativity was attacked. That glass, the 'fourth wall' of his miniature theater, is likewise the diaphragm between a pair of different realms. It depicts outside, chaos, catastrophe, as well as the stuff of unprotected life; inside, sublimation, recollection, and tranquility.

Cornell's creativity looks fey or precious. There is a treacherous line between sentiment and sentimentality. Yet his gothic dreams and fussily reverential evocations of deceased Victorian ballet dancers are usually drawn back from the brink by Cornell's rigor as a formal painter. Cornell was extremely Francophile, although he had never been in France - witness his numerous references to French provincial lodges, and even by the worn, comfy French hues of his box interiors, the ivory whites and pinks and faded blue-grays.

With his famous shadow boxes, Joseph Cornell, one of the best collage artists, took the flotsam of daily life - cheap wine glasses, broken toys, miniature medicine bottles, rusting thimbles, aged cork stoppers and paper cutouts - and invested all of them with the luminous permanence of fine art. In works like ''Penny Arcade Portrait of Lauren Bacall,'' ''Medici Princess,'' ''Roses des Vents'' and ''The Hotel Eden,'' the authentic is converted into the unique, the mundane into the enchanting: celebrities as well as paper birds turn out to be iconic deities in Cornell's intimate universe.

What would happen if I smoked paint? (BQs)?

I ran out of weed so I figured I'd just scrape the resin out with a knife, and I saw little silver things and was too lazy to take them out. So I smoked the resin with the silver shit in it, and I'm not sure if it was paint or small pieces of metal that peeled from the pipe (I was using a little metal pipe). But I doubted that my pipe would even have paint in the bowl in the first place. Then I thought "Can metal even burn?" Then I started to think of some Ironman shit like when he had shrapnel floating around inside his chest.

guess ull find out

no it sucks sober

ehh...

Tyler Pipe Plant Fire - Macungie, PA