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Mangled limbs. Vividly painted images of severed fingers. A nude with a gash across its torso. Jogen Chowdhury’s works have always been reflective of the agony he feels. Be it his post-Partition days in Calcutta (he was born in Faridpur, present-day Bangladesh) or his period of study in Paris, Chowdhury admits that he has always been influenced by his environment. “My paintings reflect the situations around me and are motivated by social and political injustices.
Dark is part of my psyche,” he says. Gallery Art Exposure in Kolkata is presently showcasing Chowdhury’s works made during the pandemic. Titled ‘An Unfinished Poem’, the disturbing yet riveting images are a powerful comment on the recent history of our country. An octogenarian, Chowdhury’s imagination is still largely coloured by the memory of the small village in Bangladesh with its trees and temples. Coming from a family of zamindars, indulging in the annual Durga Puja festivities, community theatre performa
Will a Looted Pissarro End Up in Oklahoma, or France?
A painting by the French Impressionist artist, with a back story of plunder and family tragedy, is at the center of courtroom battles on both sides of the Atlantic.
“Shepherdess Bringing in Sheep,” an 1886 painting by Pissaro, was looted from Léone Meyer’s family by the Nazis.Credit.Musée d’Orsay
Dec. 17, 2020
PARIS For more than 70 years, Léone Meyer’s family has fought to reclaim a looted painting, and yet she cannot bear the thought of displaying it in her Left Bank home, across from the River Seine.
December 16, 2020
At some point during the past 10 months, you probably caught yourself playing “what do I miss most?” Whether it’s a leisurely coffee with a group of friends at a sidewalk café or feeling alive at a blaring rock concert, I hope the memory gnawing at you arouses heartfelt longing rather than self-pity. In my case, it’s the museum visits that I miss most.
Here in Israel, where we live from lockdown to lockdown, the museums never had a chance. Citizens are deprived, on a daily basis, of the inspirations that were once available to them. It’s been months since I’ve marveled at the extensive French Impressionist collection in Tel Aviv or the creative exhibits at the Diaspora Museum which celebrate the miraculous ingathering of exiles. So in order to avoid feeling too wistful, I’ve adopted the weekly practice of turning the pages of the oversized textbooks that I acquired as an Art History minor during college.