Oscar Wilde once wrote, “All art is useless, except that it is intensely admired”. If so, then what is the use of painting? Sculpting vases, panels or jewelry? What makes them so special that The Museum of Metropolitan Art would exert so much of their resources into obtaining almost over 150 pieces for an exhibit?

The answer lies quite simply in the title of the exhibit. “Love and Romance in Renaissance Italy. All these objects were created as everlasting symbols of status, piety and love. As I trembled in the slightly chilly marble hall where most of the exhibit was housed I could not help but embrace how aptly titled it was.

  The painting of a beautiful woman probably commissioned by a doting husband stared across a blue and white ceramic vase. Celestial cherubs and gods like Venus, commissioned by those who tried in every way to be closer to God were recurring motifs. It is difficult not to generalize or to be overly sentimental in analyzing Renaissance art because the artists themselves deliberately exaggerated the subjects. Immense oil paintings of partially nude women of impressive proportions gazed the viewer out of countenance. This was considered beauty! Past tense is used because standards of what stands for love or beauty has drastically changed in a society that is so insecure.

            Historically, the High Italian Renaissance was a period where the pursuit of perfection was channeled through the skill of artists and their craft. Looking at their preindustrial era surroundings they saw potential for beauty and divinity reminiscent of the grandeur that was Rome. One such man was Fra Fillipo Lippi. He was a painter and monk. I recognized his style instantly as I my eyes skipped across the room. He specialized in profile paintings of Italian nobility and mostly couples as seen in the painting “Portrait of a Woman and a Man at a Casement”. In his pursuit of idealization he focuses on the details of an elaborate headpiece and dress rather than the woman that wore it. Her exaggeratedly high forehead, lack of eyebrows, and wan pallor though disconcerting the viewer was considered beauty. On her right arm he wrote the word “Leal” in Italian. Understandably to further emphasize her perfection as a loyal wife. Lorenzo Lotto also undertook to paint in this time and his portayal of “Venus and Cupid” is awe inspiring. Venus as the godess of beauty reposed and completely at ease with cupid at her feet gives and indescribable sense of serenity and peace. This was art and love in renaissance Italy.

This romantic idealization went beyond the human form. In the artist’s eyes and in my minds eye it transcended into human nature itself.

At an instant, when Sam Freedman visited our classroom, one could tell he was dedicated and humble. Barely late at all, he was apologetic of running a bit behind, despite countless valid excuses. What a busy man! I believe a lot of his energy and drive contribute to his successes as a writer, teacher, and human being. When he began speaking about his novel, one could tell he was kind, despite what could be considered mean about his nature towards his mother in “Who She Was.” He spoke as an author should, with words full of color. One thing that struck me as odd was the repetition of the word obscure to describe his mother. It is such an honest word, but I would have used it to negatively describe someone whose character I find to be slightly off, yet he used the word without remorse, as if it was in full of meaning, but dead in the way I am used to.

Sam Freedman’s search for honest facts enthralled me and made me wonder what drove this man to such integrity. I am glad he has seemed to make atonement with his mother by writing the novel. He seems like a good man who has had regrets, but he is changed forever because of it. He was extremely helpful in giving us advice for our own papers. His research methods are so involved, which further show his dedication to make amends with his mother. Another thing the Freedman taught me was that it is much easier to make amends with a family member while they are still living!

 Susan Meiselas’s decision to pursue photography has taken her around the world. From Nicaragua, El Salvador, small towns and even South Bronx Mieselas had focused on capturing the horror of war ravaged and impoverished nations. In her series “Carnival Strippers” she focused on following the itinerary of carnival strippers. She took pictures not only of their performances but their own personal moments when they stopped being entertainers on stage and started being human.

Meiselas’s ability to capture this gritty realism and humanity in her subjects had earned her accolades. She is the winner of 2000 Cornell Capa Infinity Award for for distinguished achievement in photography. Her work has solo exhibits at the International Center for Photography and even shown in the Bibliotheque Nationale in Paris. Susan Meiselas’s career as a photographer is distinctly successful and eventful.

Many of Meiselas’s prints caught my eye but there were two black and white shots that stood on their own and engaged my attention

In Prep at Mass Shelter 1979, Susan Meiselas captures a not so festive holiday scene from Volunteers of America. Two elderly people in the background are framed in the window frames. An old man sits listlessly on a chair and watches as lady in a tweed suit adjusts a white Santa Claus wig on a patiently resigned young man. In the background a tinsel decked tree adds to the supposedly festive spirit of the photo and occupies two thirds of the picture. Meiselas successfully captures a Santa Claus in the making and addresses the fabrication of many beloved holiday traditions.

In Prince Street Girls she captures Pebbles, JoJo and Ro on Baxter Street in 1979 New York City. These young girls are all positioned in attitudes that reflect their nonchalance and naïveté. Ro is lighting a cigarette for JoJo. They are all sporting classic 1978 year jean jackets, bellbottoms and print collar shirts tightly starched. Their fly away hair gives them a rushed and inconsistent air. The black and white tones of the photo give them a mature and older look. The clothes they were wearing were probably bright and their faces as well but the black and white give them a more somber mood. Pebbles leans on the front grill of the Cadillac her chin jutted out and tilted ever so slightly to the left. To the passing stranger these girls would have been passed by Meiselas captures their rebel spirit and defiance.

Meiselas may have been known better for her coverage of political and war related subjects but her lens reveals the frankness of her human subjects and he strength lies in that honest portrayal of them.

             First and foremost Samuel Freedman is know to the world as a widely read New York Times columnist, author and professor at Columbia University’s School of Journalism. To our IDC class and to anyone who has read his book “Who She Was”, he is a penitent son.

            Courteous as befits a man of his intelligence he entered our class a few minutes late with an apology and a reminder to Professor Bernstein that he had sent her two messages to alert her to his lateness. Even with deadlines earlier that morning he still took the time to come speak to our class. Mr. Freedman showed us immense presence of mind.           

He confessed in our class, as he looked down at his black patent leather shoes and nondescript dark slacks, “He wasn’t a very good son”. This confession is the first part to an explanation as to why he would write a book about his mother. Mothers are very interesting I suppose because everyone has one it is a universal subject. It was not impulse that drove him as he realized at her burial that he did not know her, it was guilt.

Running his hand back against his prickly salt and pepper hair he admitted he was “complicit on the silence of that subject”. He sugar coated his confession with a lower more even tone as he shifted side to side at the edge of the table at the front of the classroom, that he was at times uncommunicative and condemning of his mother. As he smiled at our questions and raised his shaggy eyebrows at some of them it was clear that he hadn’t quite gotten over this guilt in writing this book. He was as he put it “filled with shame and remorse at not being a more attentive son and better to her when she was sick”.

            I believe his guilt motivated him to research the aspects of her life with a “fanatical” attention to detail. He “knew what she was” but not “how she got there” and in saying that he acknowledged that he unfairly cast judgment on her. According the Professor Freedman if you “write about your own specific experiences and if done right, readers bring own experiences with reading and find connections”. It is sad for a young, idealistic student such as myself to admit this but theme of a son unable to reconcile with a parent is universal. Any adult with that much influence and proximity to a young child is bound to create disputes and disagreements. He believes in the “Periodic table of human nature – everything in material world can be broken down to finite elements; no matter what happens in human existence, everything breaks down to love, hate, disappointment, human personality, as long as you’re true to those, people will find the points of connection”. These themes are not all sad but Samuel Freedman is correct in his assertion that human beings sometimes relate to each other less in aspects in happiness and more in aspects of suffering because the later is just so much more prevalent.

            His final piece of advice to a group of idealistic and high achieving students that compromise Professor Bernstein’s Art’s In New York class addressed the future. As young individuals we will all eventually become parents ourselves. He warned us to be careful of denying our children of their “hearts desire”. If it is not something that “will kill them like drugs or something be careful of denying them that”. His mother was denied a chance of a happy marriage based on her love for Charlie and that is how she changed. I still find it unsettling how he could write in such a detached manner about his mother, someone who was in his life for so long. Only in addressing her past and sharing it was he able to find some sort of redemption. In forgiving her for her he forgives himself for the lack of communication between them. The book is written and published and he can move on to the future now.

On November 25^th, our IDC class had the honor of meeting a famous writer and journalist, Samuel G. Freedman. From the start, he approached the class in a comfortable and caring way. He had a newspaper deadline and was running late, but “decided to risk it” just to visit our class.

Possibly the most interesting thing about Freedman’s most recent book, Who She Was is that he did not omit any details, however personal or uncomfortable they might be. He wanted to recover her past and her life as a young woman.  “I knew who she became, but I didn’t know how she became.” Writing this book became an act of penance, making up for not being a better son while she was alive.

Freedman told us his major belief about life. He believes there is a periodic table of human nature and that everything in the material world can be broken down in a finite number of elements. No matter what happens in the human world, everything in human existence breaks down into love, hate, disappointments, and ambitions. Those things don’t go out of style. It is a part of the human experience.

His advice is to try to find out everything you can about the person you want to write about, and use all the sources you can. Primary documents, secondary documents, everything. True to his advice, Freedman, before interviews said there’s nothing that will shock him, nothing he can’t handle. And this is how he found his mother’s candid portrait. Even her sexuality, and the important role it played until the end of her life, when even on her death bed she refused to get a vasectomy because it was part of her life force. “To omit that would be rendering her truthfully.” That is something very personal, to his mother and only her family, but he felt that if he didn’t mention such an important detail of her life, he wouldn’t be painting an accurate picture.  In other words, he approached this book and the research it asked for, as a true journalist, making it objective. This is not something many writers can do.

“The arrogance of being a writer is to feel like its important enough to put it out to the world”-is the reason he decided to publish such a personal book. She would’ve felt proud that her life was worthy of a book. She would’ve felt satisfaction that her son would want to spend 3,4 years of his life devoted to her.

Samuel G. Freedman is an interesting fellow, while doing his job as a writer and publishing books, he attempts to, in a way, bring her back to life. Matching up to his persona, his books are as interesting as he is.