Introduction

What is The New Yorker? I know it’s a great magazine and that it’s a tremendous source of pleasure in my life. But what exactly is it? This blog’s premise is that The New Yorker is a work of art, as worthy of comment and analysis as, say, Keats’s “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” Each week I review one or more aspects of the magazine’s latest issue. I suppose it’s possible to describe and analyze an entire issue, but I prefer to keep my reviews brief, and so I usually focus on just one or two pieces, to explore in each the signature style of its author. A piece by Nick Paumgarten is not like a piece by Jill Lepore, and neither is like a piece by Ian Frazier. One could not mistake Collins for Seabrook, or Bilger for Goldfield, or Mogelson for Kolbert. Each has found a style, and it is that style that I respond to as I read, and want to understand and describe.

Tuesday, August 11, 2020

August 3 & 10, 2020 Issue


The most meaningful artistic credo I’ve ever read is John Updike’s “My only duty was to describe reality as it had come to me – to give the mundane its beautiful due” (Foreword to his The Early Stories 1953 – 1975). I thought of Updike’s statement when I saw Serena Stevens’ “Rocking Chair” in this week’s issue. What a gorgeous painting! It illustrates Andrea K. Scott’s “At the Galleries.” Scott writes,

The young realist painter—who recently returned to her native Iowa after chasing the light in California, New Mexico, and Rhode Island—is at her best in scenes of domestic interiors, watchfully rendered rooms that convey the contradictions of home and the tension between melancholy and intimacy (as seen in “Rocking Chair,” above).

 

I relish the way “Rocking Chair” ’s vertical perspective includes the light-soaked brown chair and the intricate geometry of its gray shadow. Its rendition of light seems to me both painterly and photographic. I love it.

Serena Stevens, Rocking Chair (2020)
 

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