The power of reality TV changes lives in a big way. From engagement rings to cash prizes, the last man or woman standing on a reality show will walk away with a reward that represents a major milestone in their lives. But for many contestants, the show doesn’t end there.
Earlier this year in Shrewsbury, a small village in the western England country, a nine-year-old boy named Joe Whale had a problem with his school. Joe had caught flack for doodling in class, and the school’s limited art courses weren’t much practice. His creativity didn’t have a surface to explore. Determined to encourage his artistic development, Joe’s parents, Greg and Nessa Whale enrolled Joe in local after-school art courses. Soon after, thanks to a sociable art teacher, an agreeable restaurant, and a talented young artist, a new wimmelbilder style art exhibit went on display in town.
The personal lives of celebrities will eternally be the subject of great curiosity for the majority of humanity who spend their lives out of the spotlight. For those under it, their existence is poked and prodded from the removed medium of tabloids and reality television. Regardless of whether the information is true or false, people of all identities find themselves snagging the latest issue of People at the grocery store checkout counter. Monumental events in a celebrity's life, such as a wedding or a fiftieth birthday celebration, have a tendency to be more heavily guarded from the press. This results in a hyper fixation on the event by the press as speculative articles flow alongside an equal number of stories about pathetic paparazzi who broke their leg trying to jump a ten-foot tall fence so they could snap Kim Kardashian saying, “I do!” on camera.
Images have the ability to capture the tiniest details, things that people wouldn’t normally see. Photographer Sally Mann captures these themes in her images, instead of just taking a surface level view of society. She uses her artistic skills to approach the hard, taboo topics like: death, immortality, and even racism. Her photos translate to a thousand crossings, a thousand different journeys, stories, voices, and perspectives.
Sculpture is an entirely different and unique art form; it is tangible and interactive, and almost begs to be touched. Whenever I am strolling through an exhibition and come across a sculpture, I have the sudden urge to touch the surface of it to feel the texture of the piece. I resist this urge and observe from afar, like any dignified museum-goer, but it always makes me wonder why human beings feel the need to respond physically to an art form.
