Stop, Thief!

I was over at the Yarnstorm blog the other day, and this post really got me thinking. If I suddenly shifted career tracks to begin a life of professional fine art pilfering, what would I go after? Not to mention the further consideration: what does it say about me that this has really been the only question I've felt like seriously considering in the last 24 hours, even though I have three (3!) papers to write, each of which comes with its own set of questions? Right. Summer-brain, welcome back. So bear with me as I map out my future life as an art thief (feel free to join in, and let me know so I can check out your blog)...

Step 1: The Great Van Gogh Heist
A selfish theft; the painting I'd take so I could put it up on the wall and stare at it all day:
Boats at Saint-Maries, 1888

This is one of my favorites of all time. I love the way the sky seems to be rotating around the cluster of masts, the sharp outline of the foreground boats compared with the translucent waves on the sand, and especially the bright red and white prow against the subtle background shades.

Step 2: Take one for the team - William Blake
Title page from Milton: a Poem

Because while most of Blake's art gives me the creeps - nearly transparent people flung about against blood-red backgrounds or standing disturbingly still - this (ahem) view of Milton allows the figure a much more forceful presence; instead of showing a body being contorted by intense emotions and passions, Blake depicts solid musculature [those calves are pretty insane for a poet!]withstanding and even repelling the swirling mists. And shouldn't everyone have a piece of art that reminds them to feel powerful?

Step 3: The Impossible Dream - Auguste Rodin
The Burghers of Calais, 1889

Talk about body language! Different responses to the crisis of having to offer up the city key, from resolution to downcast despair. My favorite element of this piece is the exaggerated size of the hands and feet; I think it says something about all these men, even while they're caught in indecision and worry, being very firmly planted and having the potential for assertive action. Unfortunately, I'm not sure how I would transport a giant sculpture. Or where I would keep it. Hmm.

So there you go! I'd better get down to some serious planning. Anyone want to drive the getaway car? P.S. I promise some knitting pictures soon :)