As a side note, some (many?) cultures around the world have no word for blue, blue is just other shades of green.
As a side note, some (many?) cultures around the world have no word for blue, blue is just other shades of green.
Paul and Kay (1969) argue for a linguistic universal which posits that the set of which colors a language has is a function of how many colors it has. (Stealing from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linguistic_relativity_and_the_...):
1. All languages contain terms for black and white. 2. If a language contains three terms, then it contains a term for red. 3. If a language contains four terms, then it contains a term for either green or yellow (but not both). 4. If a language contains five terms, then it contains terms for both green and yellow. 5. If a language contains six terms, then it contains a term for blue. 6. If a language contains seven terms, then it contains a term for brown. 7. If a language contains eight or more terms, then it contains terms for purple, pink, orange or gray.
The opposite of the grue phenomenon exists too, i.e. languages which subdivide the "blue" part of the spectrum into separate lexemes. In Russian, for instance, goluboy = light blue, whereas siniy = blue to dark blue. This morning I was reading the Wikipedia entry for color revolution, and there's a quote from Belarusian President Lukashenko, "They [the West] think that Belarus is ready for some 'orange' or, what is a rather frightening option, 'blue' or 'cornflower blue' revolution." I had to chuckle about that - it sounds so goofy in the English translation, but that's only because we don't have a lexical distinction there. (Now I would have personally translated it to light blue, but that's another matter.)
For example, Blue Monochrome [1] seems to my uneducated eye to be just a layer of pure blue that every wall painter recreates every time they paint a wall blue. Why is the Blue Monochrome piece more than just a wall painted blue?
There are a few flowers that have this property; fuscias, and others with strong UV fluorescence.
Chemistry has DRASTICALLY altered painting from the Renaissance to the World War era. New pigments have been constantly highlighted and displayed in artwork. Finally, an insanely blue blue has been invented, bluer than any other blue paint in the past.
The artist highlighted above attempts to showcase the new technology in its purest form. Though, despite this strive for purity of blue, the application is inherently uneven. If you look into the painted canvas up close, you will see imperfections and patterns in "just a wall". It's also a statement, it may cause reactions and cause viewers to question the boundary between art and not-art.
It's not my cup of tea compared to masterworks of Van Gogh or Homer or any of the legendary painters, but art goes through many phases and is used to express many different ideas. What I do think is bonkers is that modern artists (who are well-connected) may be paid millions of dollars for these works, which to me don't showcase skill and talent, but which reward creative ideation and concepts.
I was thinking something along these lines. Based on the first Wiki article, Klein was involved in developing this pigment. If so, the work stands on the merits of that achievement alone. He was, for that moment, literally the only person in the world that could have created that painting.
I took my then 5 year old daughter to the Tate for the exhibition and it had the same effect on her, while almost everything else on show had no effect at all. The only other thing she loved was Bridget Riley, and I think Yves Klein's blue work is somewhere in the same realm - the art is in defining something that makes the viewer's brain do some of the work, that is going to be experienced slightly differently by everyone who sees it.
"Why these all-white paintings are in museums and mine aren't" [1]
One woman was conducting the tour for three people, when they stopped at one of these all-white paintings.
She was describing the potential meaning behind the work, and noted that sometimes the artist expresses textures, or covers some background work.
It's hard to describe, but I felt this sort of absurdist joy when I watched all four of them lean in very closely for half a minute, only to discover absolutely nothing unique about the work in its texture or color.
Maybe sometimes art isn't made for the observer, but the observer's observer.
Reminded me of the short story Zima Blue by Alastair Reynolds (which was adapted into an animation short on Netlifx's "Love, Death and Robots").
I had no idea Alastair Reynolds was behind the story, I’ve enjoyed his work quite separately.
I also spotted references to other scifi authors. There's one episode from the first season that is almost 100% something Bradbury would have written (without me telling you which one, can you guess which episode I'm thinking of? Just to doublecheck my own perception), and of course "Pop Squad" from the second season is based on the short story of the same title by Paolo Bacigalupi (from "Pump Six and Other Stories").
And I'm sure I'm missing many more!
Yves Klein's "Leap into the Void"[1] is another one of his works that really grabbed me when I first saw it. Can't quite explain it. Those are the best types of art experiences in my book.
I’ve seen blue man group live and they have an otherworldly look in person, and I suspect it’s related to this phenomenon.
I really like his combination of blue and grey images.
also how no art teacher ever told us about Klein's blue the way you did.. they simply used it as an authority figure