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When the photographer Philippe Halsman, said, "Jump", no one asked him how high. People just moved, or jumped to the extent that physical capacity and personal decorum allowed. At that moment in the air Mr. Halsman clicked the shutter. Jumpology called his method.
The idea that people jump off the camera may seem a gimmick, but it is saying is that the contributions of a few syllables jumpology psychology. As Halsman, who died in 1979, said: "When you ask a person to jump, his attention is mostly directed toward the act of jumping and the mask falls so that the real person appears."
A wonderful exhibition of about 50 jumps Halsman captured on film from the 1940s through the 50s - sometimes commissioned by Life magazine - you can see in the Laurence Miller Gallery 20 West 57th Street in Manhattan , until Friday. The photographs show star of stage, film and television, national leaders, a prima ballerina, writers and creative types. Except for a few choreographers land, almost everyone cooperates.
Some images involved a little more stage directions than others, but by Halsman collaboration with surrealist Salvador Dalí since late 1940. The most famous of these images, "Atomicus Dali," Dali shows the crazy high, brush and palette in hand. He is flanked by a president and two easels (holding paintings Dalí) - all rose, and seemingly floating on the floor, increasing the sense of suspension. But the principal event is the grand arch curve of water through the image, along with three wheels (or remote) wet cats in disarray, confused. For once, something characteristic of Dalí exaggerated sense of surprise.
The program also includes six failed attempts at this shot, its shortcomings taken into account by Halsman. I was amazed that in these attempts, the main stand has only an empty frame. I took a closer look at the photograph published: the image in the main stand is a pretty accurate representation of flying cats, clammy skin tip and everything. It was drawn (or painted) and properly inserted after the fact, the empty frame shadow is still visible on the ground. Dalí was not lost much when it came time Dali.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Joys of Jumpology
When the photographer Philippe Halsman, said, "Jump", no one asked him how high. People just moved, or jumped to the extent that physical capacity and personal decorum allowed. At that moment in the air Mr. Halsman clicked the shutter. Jumpology called his method.
The idea that people jump off the camera may seem a gimmick, but it is saying is that the contributions of a few syllables jumpology psychology. As Halsman, who died in 1979, said: "When you ask a person to jump, his attention is mostly directed toward the act of jumping and the mask falls so that the real person appears."
A wonderful exhibition of about 50 jumps Halsman captured on film from the 1940s through the 50s - sometimes commissioned by Life magazine - you can see in the Laurence Miller Gallery 20 West 57th Street in Manhattan , until Friday. The photographs show star of stage, film and television, national leaders, a prima ballerina, writers and creative types. Except for a few choreographers land, almost everyone cooperates.
Some images involved a little more stage directions than others, but by Halsman collaboration with surrealist Salvador Dalí since late 1940. The most famous of these images, "Atomicus Dali," Dali shows the crazy high, brush and palette in hand. He is flanked by a president and two easels (holding paintings Dalí) - all rose, and seemingly floating on the floor, increasing the sense of suspension. But the principal event is the grand arch curve of water through the image, along with three wheels (or remote) wet cats in disarray, confused. For once, something characteristic of Dalí exaggerated sense of surprise.
The program also includes six failed attempts at this shot, its shortcomings taken into account by Halsman. I was amazed that in these attempts, the main stand has only an empty frame. I took a closer look at the photograph published: the image in the main stand is a pretty accurate representation of flying cats, clammy skin tip and everything. It was drawn (or painted) and properly inserted after the fact, the empty frame shadow is still visible on the ground. Dalí was not lost much when it came time Dali.
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- It’s a Bird, It’s a Plane, It’s the Mayor of New York
- In Cleveland, a Frenzy to Prepare Antiquities
- Can Art Be ‘Priceless’ in Rocky Times?
- The Joys of Jumpology
- It Was a Royal Pain, but It Ended Well
- Picasso nabbed in $123M Paris museum heist
- Turning 70, With Stars and Strobes
- Catholic Museum’s Angels Fail to Save It
- A 70th-Birthday Gala, With Stars and Strobes
- Dreamers of Dreams
- At the Met, Portraits of Grief, Written in Stone
- Who Draws the Borders of Culture?
- Rescuing Art From the Rubble of the Quake
- At $106.5 Million, a Picasso Sets an Auction Record
- Artworks by Julia
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