Watch 30 Films from the 1970s by Computer Animation Pioneer Lillian F. Schwartz

in Art, Technology | March 16th, 2016

In the 1970s and 80s, a certain vivid, complex, and slightly frightening computer-graphics aesthetic rose in the zeitgeist. Though it has long passed into the realm of the retro, it remains imprinted on our minds, and we owe much of its look and feel to an artist named Lillian F. Schwartz. Trained in the art of Japanese calligraphy as a way of recovering from polio and later brought into the high technological ferment of late-1960s Bell Labs, Schwartz found herself well-placed to define what humanity would think of when they thought of the imagery generated by these promising new machines called computers.

Schwartz started creating a series of abstract films in the early 1970s, using not just computers but computers in combination with lasers, photographs, oil paints, and the full range of traditional film photography and editing gear.

You can watch 30 of her films on her web site, and at the top of this post you’ll find 1972’s Mutations. Schwartz’s site quotes the New York Times’ A.H. Weiler as describing its “changing dots, ectoplasmic shapes and electronic music” as “an eye-catching view of the potentials of the new techniques.”

Video-art fans will know the Paik video-synthesizer, or at least they’ll know Paik: Nam June Paik, that is, the Korean video artist who did plenty of artistic-technological pioneering of his own. Both he and Schwartz gave a great deal of thought to — and put a great deal of practice into — pushing the boundaries of technologies whose conventional uses the rest of us hadn’t quite learned yet. You can see Schwartz doing exactly that in The Artist and the Computer, the 1976 short documentary on her work, originally produced for AT&T, just above.

You can read more about Schwartz, back at Bell Labs and today, in the article “Art at the Edge of Tomorrow” by Jer Thorp. “I find it’s still an awesome experience to use a machine that — one can’t even fathom the speed,” she says in The Artist and the Computer as we watch her passing rows and rows of hulking mainframes with their racks of obscure peripherals and spinning reels of tape. “When you speak of nanoseconds, you can’t even grasp how fast these machines can work.” They work much faster now, of course, and we’ve grown used to it, even jaded about it — but Schwartz’s films capture our imaginations, in their inventive and eerie way, more than ever.

You can watch 30 of Schwartz’s pioneering films here.

via Monoskop

The Groundbreaking Silhouette Animations of Lotte Reiniger: Cinderella, Hansel and Gretel, and More

Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Angeles, A Los Angeles Primer, the video series The City in Cinema, the crowdfunded journalism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Angeles Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on Facebook.

by Colin Marshall | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

Download the Complete Archive of Oz, “the Most Controversial Magazine of the 60s,” Featuring R. Crumb, Germaine Greer & More

in Art, History, Magazines | March 11th, 2016

“If you remember the sixties,” goes the famous and variously attributed quotation, “you weren’t really there.” And, psychological after-effects of first-hand exposure to that era aside, increasingly many of us weren’t born anywhere near in time to take part.

Those of us from the wrong place or the wrong time have had to draw what understanding of the sixties we could from that much-mythologized period’s music and movies, as well as the cloudy reflections of those who lived through it (or claimed to). But now we can get a much more direct sense through the complete digital archives of Oz, sometimes called the most controversial magazine of the sixties.

In The Guardian, Chitra Ramaswamy describes the London magazine as “the icon – and the enfant terrible – of the underground press. Produced in a basement flat off Notting Hill Gate, Oz was soon renowned for psychedelic covers by pop artist Martin Sharp, cartoons by Robert Crumb, radical feminist manifestos by Germaine Greer, and anything else that would send the establishment apoplectic. By August 1971, it had been the subject of the longest obscenity trial in British history. It doesn’t get more 60s than that.” Even its print run, which began in 1967 and ended in 1973, perfectly brackets the period people really talk about when they talk about the sixties.

The online archive has gone up at the web site of the University of Wollongong, who two years ago put up a similar digital collection of all the issues of Oz’s eponymous satirical predecessor produced in Sydney. “Please be advised,” notes the front page, “this collection has been made available due to its historical and research importance. It contains explicit language and images that reflect attitudes of the era in which the material was originally published, and that some viewers may find confronting.” And while Oz today wouldn’t likely get into the kind of deep and high-profile legal trouble it did back then — in addition to the famous 1971 trial for the London version, the Sydney one got hit with two obscenity charges during the previous decade — the sheer transgressive zeal on display all over the magazine’s pages in its heyday still impresses.

“Fifty years later, it’s important as a capsule of the times, but also as a work of art,” says Michael Organ, a library manager at the university, in the Guardian article. “Oz is a record of the cultural revolution. Many of the issues it raised, such as the environment, sexuality and drug use, are no longer contentious. In fact, they have now become mainstream.”

All this goes for the deliberately provocative editorial content — the stuff some viewers may find “confronting” — as well as the incidental content: ads for novels by Henry Miller and Jean Genet, “dates computer matched to your personality and tastes,” a machine promising “a hot line to infinity/journey through the incredible landscapes of your mind/kaleidoscopic moving changing image on which your mind projects its own changing/stun yourself & astonish friends,” and the “liquid luxury” of the Aquarius Water Bed. It does not, indeed, get more sixties than that. Enter the Oz archive here.

R. Crumb Describes How He Dropped LSD in the 60s & Instantly Discovered His Artistic Style

The Confessions of Robert Crumb: A Portrait Scripted by the Underground Comics Legend Himself (1987)

62 Psychedelic Classics: A Free Playlist Created by Sean Lennon

Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Angeles, A Los Angeles Primer, the video series The City in Cinema, the crowdfunded journalism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Angeles Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on Facebook.

by Colin Marshall | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

Download 1800 Fin de Siècle French Posters & Prints: Iconic Works by Toulouse-Lautrec & Many More

in Art, History | March 11th, 2016

Théophile Steinlen’s poster for Le Chat Noir, Leonetto Cappiello’s advertisement for Café Martin, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec’s portraits of the cabaret singer Aristide Bruant — through these and other much-reproduced and often-seen images, we’ve all gained some familiarity, however unconscious, with the art of the fin de siècle French print.

But even so, most of us have seen only a small fraction of all the striking works of art a late-nineteenth-century Parisian would have encountered on the streetscape every day. Until they invent a time machine to drop us straight into the cultural vibrancy of that time and place, we’ve got the next best thing in the form of the Van Gogh Museum’s online French print collection.

“In France, until the mid-nineteenth century, the art of printmaking had been used primarily to reproduce existing works of art in print, such as paintings and sculptures, so that they could be available for a broad public,” says the museum’s announcement of the online collection, which opened in February.

But in the second half of the nineteenth century, “as artists began to experiment with the medium as a fertile mode of creative expression, each print came to be considered a work of art in its own right.” In the aesthetically explosive years between 1890 to 1905, “a new generation of artists took up the art of printmaking as a modern medium,” driven by a “fascination for modern life, including the scintillating Paris nightlife, Japanese woodblock prints, and the intimate domestic lifestyle of the well-to-do bourgeois.”

The online collection offers not just high-resolution images of nearly 1800 prints, posters, and books from this movement, but information that “reveals and elaborates on innumerable artistic and historical connections using interactive tags and hyperlinks,” shedding light on the “tightly knit community” of the Parisian print world, whose “each individual print is connected with countless other prints in many different ways,” from shared influences to subjects to artistic techniques to types of paper — and even to clients, who quickly realized the commercial value of all the eye-catching qualities pioneered in this revolution in reproducible visual art.

You can browse the collection in a variety of ways with its index: by artists like Steinlen, Toulouse-Lautrec, or Paul Gauguin; by technique like woodcut, aquatint, or photogravure; by theme like beauty, nightlife, or capitalism; and even by object type, from books to playbills to all those still-eye-catching advertisements. To Francophiles, Paris has long stood as a place where even the businessmen care about art. Presumably the coffee companies, eateries, bars, music halls, and publishers who commissioned so many of these posters had at least a certain regard for it, but if only they knew what a good bargain they were getting in purchasing the attention of consumers for about 120 years and counting. Enter the complete online collection of prints here, or click here to see some highlights.

René Magritte’s Early Art Deco Advertising Posters, 1924–1927

Advertisements from Japan’s Golden Age of Art Deco

Beautiful, Color Photographs of Paris Taken 100 Years Ago—at the Beginning of World War I & the End of La Belle Époque

Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Angeles, A Los Angeles Primer, the video series The City in Cinema, the crowdfunded journalism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Angeles Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on Facebook.

by Colin Marshall | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

Mapping the Sounds of Greek Byzantine Churches: How Researchers Are Creating “Museums of Lost Sound”

in Architecture, Art, History | March 9th, 2016

Unless you’re an audio engineer, you’ll have little reason to know what the term “convolution reverb” means. But it’s a fascinating concept nonetheless. Technicians bring high-end microphones, speakers, and recording equipment to a particularly resonant space—a grain silo, for example, or famous concert hall. They capture what are called “impulse responses,” signals that contain the acoustic characteristics of the location. The technique produces a three dimensional audio imprint—enabling us to recreate what it would sound like to sing, play the piano or guitar, or stage an entire concert in that space. As Adrienne LaFrance writes in The Atlantic, “you can apply [impulse responses] to a recording captured in another space and make it sound as though that recording had taken place in the original building.”

This kind of mapping, writes Allison Meier at Hyperallergic, allows researchers to “build an archive of a building’s sound, with all its nuances, echoes, and ricochets, that could survive even if the building fell.” And that is precisely what researchers have been doing since 2014 in ancient Greek Byzantine churches. The project began when Sharon Gerstel, Professor of Byzantine Art History and Archeology at UCLA, and Chris Kyriakakis, director of the Immersive Audio Laboratory at the University of Southern California, met to discuss their mutual interest in capturing the sound of these spaces.

(Hear them both explain the genesis of the project in the CBC interview above.) The two researchers traveled to Thessaloniki, coincidentally, Kyriakakis’ hometown, and began, as Gerstel puts it, to “measure the churches.” LaFrance’s Atlantic article gives us a detailed description of the measurement process, which involves playing and recording a tone that sweeps through the audible frequency spectrum. You’ll hear it in the video at the top of the post as a “chirp”—bouncing off the various architectural surfaces as the voices of singers would have hundreds of years ago.

In that video and in the audio recording above, chanters in a studio had the audio characteristics of these churches applied to their voices, recreating the sounds that filled the spaces in the early Christian centuries. As another member of the team, James Donahue—Professor of Music Production and Engineering at Berklee College of Music—discovered, the churches had been acoustically designed to produce specific sound effects. “It wasn’t just about the architecture,” says Donahue, “they had these big jugs that were put up there to sip certain frequencies out of the air… They built diffusion, a way to break up the sound waves… They were actively trying to tune the space.” In addition, the builders “discovered something that we call slap echo. [In the ancient world], they described it as the sound of angels’ wings.”

The project not only allows art historians to enter the past, but it also preserves that past far into the future, creating what LaFrance calls a “museum of lost sound.” After all, the churches themselves will eventually recede into history. “Some of these buildings may not exist later,” says Kyriakakis, “Some of these historic buildings are being destroyed.” With immersive video and audio technology, we will still be able to experience much of their grandeur long after they’re gone.

via the CBC/Hyperallergic

David Byrne: How Architecture Helped Music Evolve

The History of Western Architecture: From Ancient Greece to Rococo (A Free Online Course)

Josh Jones is a writer and musician based in Durham, NC. Follow him at @jdmagness

by Josh Jones | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 6 ) |

3,900 Pages of Paul Klee’s Personal Notebooks Are Now Online, Presenting His Bauhaus Teachings (1921–1931)

in Art | March 3rd, 2016

Paul Klee led an artistic life that spanned the 19th and 20th centuries, but he kept his aesthetic sensibility tuned to the future. Because of that, much of the Swiss-German Bauhaus-associated painter’s work, which at its most distinctive defines its own category of abstraction, still exudes a vitality today.

And he left behind not just those 9,000 pieces of art (not counting the hand puppets he made for his son), but plenty of writings as well, the best known of which came out in English as Paul Klee Notebooks, two volumes (The Thinking Eye and The Nature of Nature) collecting the artist’s essays on modern art and the lectures he gave at the Bauhaus schools in the 1920s.

“These works are considered so important for understanding modern art that they are compared to the importance that Leonardo’s A Treatise on Painting had for Renaissance,” says Monoskop. Their description also quotes critic Herbert Read, who described the books as “the most complete presentation of the principles of design ever made by a modern artist – it constitutes the Principia Aesthetica of a new era of art, in which Klee occupies a position comparable to Newton’s in the realm of physics.”

More recently, the Zentrum Paul Klee made available online almost all 3,900 pages of Klee’s personal notebooks, which he used as the source for his Bauhaus teaching between 1921 and 1931. If you can’t read German, his extensively detailed textual theorizing on the mechanics of art (especially the use of color, with which he struggled before returning from a 1914 trip to Tunisia declaring, “Color and I are one. I am a painter”) may not immediately resonate with you. But his copious illustrations of all these observations and principles, in their vividness, clarity, and reflection of a truly active mind, can still captivate anybody — just as his paintings do.

If you would like to support the mission of Open Culture, consider making a donation to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your contributions will help us continue providing the best free cultural and educational materials to learners everywhere. You can contribute through PayPal, Patreon, and Venmo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Monoskop

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The Nazi’s Philistine Grudge Against Abstract Art and The “Degenerate Art Exhibition” of 1937

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Download All 36 of Jan Vermeer’s Beautifully Rare Paintings (Most in Stunning High Resolution)

Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Angeles, A Los Angeles Primer, the video series The City in Cinema, the crowdfunded journalism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Angeles Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on Facebook.

by Colin Marshall | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 24 ) |

The Home Movies of Two Surrealists: Look Inside the Lives of Man Ray & René Magritte

in Art, Film | March 2nd, 2016

“It happens all the time,” writes the New York Times’ Sala Elise Patterson, “A beautiful young woman decides she wants to become a model and asks a photographer friend to take some head shots. Seventy years ago this ordinary series of events took an unlikely turn. That was because the beautiful woman was black; the photographer was her lover Man Ray; and one of the photographs landed in the September 1937 issue of Harper’s Bazaar, making her the first black model to appear in a major fashion magazine.”

That counted as one of the particularly notable events in the brief life together of the surrealist photographer and his Guadaloupe-born “lover, model and muse“Adrienne, better known as Ady, Fidelin. Some of the less historical moments of that companionship we have captured in the clips above, a series of home movies of Man Ray and Ady shot in 1938.

We see the former working, the latter dancing, both traveling, and several other unguarded moments besides — very much the opposite of the still intricately (and sometimes disturbingly) vivid compositions that characterize the way Man Ray captured humanity in his own work.

Other surrealists also took to the then-nascent technology of home filmmaking. The painter René Magritte put a bit more deliberate craft into his own amateur productions, such as the minute-and-a-half-long short film you see just above. “He went out and purchased a lot of expensive equipment and spent much of the week composing a ‘script’ based on the images in his paintings,” remembers art critic and onetime Magritte actress Suzi Gablik in her autobiography Living the Magical Life: An Oracular Adventure. “When Saturday night arrived, we all took part in the drama. My role was to sit in a chair, wearing a red carnival mask over my eyes, giving birth to a tuba, which emerged slowly from under my skirt.”

An event better seen, perhaps, than described, and one that fits in with the rest of the antics the artist managed to stage and capture, including one fellow “playing the part of a hunchback thief” who — clearly possessed of a collector’s eye — goes around the house stealing Magritte’s paintings. Though both now remembered as top-of-the-line surrealists, Man Ray and Magritte took quite different approaches to their art — and, as we see, entirely different approaches to the things they made in their off hours. But both men’s cinematic impulses proved fruitful: Man Ray made several still-striking narrative films, and as for Magritte’s project, writes Gablik, it ended up shown years later “as a short accompanying the favorite film of the surrealists about Dracula, Nosferatu.” Not bad for a home movie.

via ubuweb

Man Ray and the Cinéma Pur: Four Surrealist Films From the 1920s

Man Ray’s Portraits of Ernest Hemingway, Ezra Pound, Marcel Duchamp & Many Other 1920s Icons

René Magritte’s Early Art Deco Advertising Posters, 1924–1927

Based in Seoul, Colin Marshall writes and broadcasts on cities, language, and style. He’s at work on a book about Los Angeles, A Los Angeles Primer, the video series The City in Cinema, the crowdfunded journalism project Where Is the City of the Future?, and the Los Angeles Review of Books’ Korea Blog. Follow him on Twitter at @colinmarshall or on Facebook.

by Colin Marshall | Permalink | Make a Comment ( None ) |

Download All 36 of Jan Vermeer’s Beautifully Rare Paintings (Most in Brilliant High Resolution)

in Art | February 29th, 2016

Imagine the scene: you uncover a painting stored away in the closet of an elderly relative’s home, coated in a blanket of dust so thick you can hardly make out anything but more dust underneath. You slide it out, begin to carefully brush it off, and find two piercing eyes peering out at you. You brush away more dust, you are covered in it, and the image slowly reveals itself: a stunning oil painting of a young woman in a blue headdress and gold tunic, her red lips parted slightly in an enigmatic, over the shoulder glance.

You have just discovered Johannes (or Jan) Vermeer’s Girl with a Pearl Earring, the so-called “Dutch Mona Lisa.” The year is 1881, and the painting—in poor condition—will sell at auction for two guilders and thirty cents, the equivalent of about twenty-six U.S. dollars in today’s currency.

This mostly fictional anecdote is meant to illustrate just how much Vermeer’s fortunes—or rather those of the owners of his paintings—have risen since the late 19th century. (The painting was indeed sold in 1881—to an army officer and collector—for that tiny sum.)

Though Vermeer himself achieved modest fame during his own lifetime in his hometown of Delft and in The Hague, he died in debt in 1675, and was subsequently forgotten. Since then, of course, he has become one of the most famous European painters in history, with as much name recognition as fellow Dutch stars, Rembrandt and Van Gogh.

With the exception of the rare Biblical or mythological scene and two paintings of gentleman scholars, Vermeer’s few paintings—portraits and tranquil domestic scenes of almost preternatural stillness and poise—depict middle class women and their servants at work and at leisure. The Girl with a Pearl Earring is unusual: not a portrait—though the best-selling novel and award-winning film recreate its fictional referent—but what is called a “tronie,” depicting, writes The Hague’s Mauritshuis museum (who own the painting), “a certain type or character; in this case a girl in exotic dress, wearing an oriental turban and an improbably large pearl in her ear.”

Part of the reason for Vermeer’s obscurity is also the reason for his works’ precious rarity today—his relatively meager output compared to other Dutch painters of the period. “Most Dutch painters turned out hundreds of pictures for a much broader market,” writes the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Vermeer produced “perhaps about forty-five (of which thirty-six are known today).” To learn many fascinating details about the composition, technique, history, and influence of those thirty-six paintings, you should visit Essential Vermeer 2.0, a thoroughly comprehensive site with an interactive catalogue, bibliographies, research links, interviews, essays on technique, list of Vermeer events and online resources, and much, much more.

In one of the most recent postings on the site, emeritus professor of architecture Philip Steadman writes an intricately illustrated essay on the most probable location of the rare exterior painting, The Little Street (c.1658), which, the Rijksmuseum tells us, “occupies an exceptional place in Vermeer’s oeuvre.” The Rijksmuseum also allows you to download—with a free account—a very high resolution scan of the painting, as well as others like The Milkmaid (further up), Woman in Blue Reading a Letter, and more. Other galleries, physical and online, offer similarly high res Vermeer downloads, and students and devotees of his work can collect all thirty-six known paintings—digitally—by visiting the links below. As for the real thing… well… you’d need to cough up more than a couple dozen bucks for one these days.

Note: Although most images listed below are in high res, several aren’t, and they tend to appear toward the bottom of the list. If anyone knows where we can find better versions, please drop us a line.

Girl with a Pearl Earring (Wikimedia Commons)
The Little Street (Rijksmuseum)
The Milkmaid (Rijksmuseum)
Woman in Blue Reading a Letter (Rijksmuseum)
The Love Letter (Rijksmuseum)
A Maid Asleep (The Met)
Woman Holding a Water Pitcher (The Met)
Woman with a Lute (The Met)
Study of a Young Woman (The Met)
Allegory of the Catholic Faith (The Met)
Girl with Red Hat (National Gallery of Art)
Girl with a Flute (National Gallery of Art)
A Lady Writing (National Gallery of Art)
Woman Holding a Balance (National Gallery of Art)
The Guitar Player (The National Gallery/Wikimedia Commons)
Lady Seated at a Virginal (The National Gallery)
Lady Standing at a Virginal (The National Gallery)
Christ in the House of Martha and Mary (The National Gallery)
Lady Writing a Letter with Her Maid (National Gallery of Ireland)
Lady at the Virginals with a Gentleman/The Music Lesson (Royal Collection Trust)
The Wine Glass (Google Art Project/Wikimedia Commons)
Young Woman with a Pearl Necklace (Google Art Project/Wikimedia Commons)
Officer and Laughing Girl (Google Art Project/Wikimedia Commons)
The Art of Painting (Google Art Project/Wikimedia Commons)
Girl Reading a Letter by an Open Window (Google Art Project/Wikimedia Commons)
Mistress and Maid (The Frick/Wikimedia Commons)
Girl Interrupted at Her Music (The Frick/Wikimedia Commons)
View of Delft (Wikimedia Commons)
The Geographer (Wikimedia Commons)
Diana and Her Companions (Wikimedia Commons)
The Procuress (Wikimedia Commons)
The Girl with the Wine Glass (Wikimedia Commons)
The Concert (Wikimedia Commons)
The Astronomer (Wikimedia Commons)
The Lacemaker (Wikimedia Commons)
A Young Woman Seated at the Virginals (Wikimedia Commons)

Rijksmuseum Digitizes & Makes Free Online 210,000 Works of Art, Masterpieces Included!

Download Hundreds of Van Gogh Paintings, Sketches & Letters in High Resolution

Josh Jones is a writer and musician based in Durham, NC. Follow him at @jdmagness

by OC | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 7 ) |

Watch the Trailer for a “Fully Painted” Van Gogh Film: Features 12 Oil Paintings Per Second by 100+ Painters

in Animation, Art, Film | February 27th, 2016

Loving Vincent, an homage to Vincent van Gogh, promises to be “the first fully painted feature film in the world.” What does that mean exactly? According to filmmakers Dorota Kobiela and Hugh Welchman, every frame of Loving Vincent will be an oil painting on canvas, created with the same techniques Van Gogh used over a century ago. To make these frames, Kobiela and Welchman plan to hire skilled painters and put them through a 3‑week intensive training course, teaching each to paint like Van Gogh himself. Or so that’s how they explained things during their Kickstarter campaign several years ago.

Although production is still ongoing, you can see the first fruits of their labors. Above, watch a trailer for Loving Vincent, which features (according to the Youtube blurb accompanying the video) “12 oil paintings per second, all done by over 100 painters trained in the same style.”

If you’re a talented painter and want to contribute to making this original film (you can get an idea of what that looks like below), please visit the Loving Vincent website and scroll down to the recruitment section. The site also includes other material that takes you inside the making of this innovative film.

Enjoy…

via Colossal

Watch as Van Gogh’s Famous Self-Portrait Morphs Into a Photograph

Van Gogh’s 1888 Painting, “The Night Cafe,” Animated with Oculus Virtual Reality Software

by OC | Permalink | Make a Comment ( 1 ) |

Watch 30 Films from the 1970s by Computer Animation Pioneer Lillian F. Schwartz

Download the Complete Archive of Oz, “the Most Controversial Magazine of the 60s,” Featuring R. Crumb, Germaine Greer & More

Download 1800 Fin de Siècle French Posters & Prints: Iconic Works by Toulouse-Lautrec & Many More

Mapping the Sounds of Greek Byzantine Churches: How Researchers Are Creating “Museums of Lost Sound”

3,900 Pages of Paul Klee’s Personal Notebooks Are Now Online, Presenting His Bauhaus Teachings (1921–1931)

The Home Movies of Two Surrealists: Look Inside the Lives of Man Ray & René Magritte

Download All 36 of Jan Vermeer’s Beautifully Rare Paintings (Most in Brilliant High Resolution)

Watch the Trailer for a “Fully Painted” Van Gogh Film: Features 12 Oil Paintings Per Second by 100+ Painters

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