Why 21st Century Shakespeare Still Looks Like 19th Century Shakespeare

Our century now lays claim to our own Shakespeare—a 21^st century Shakespeare. Shakespeare’s on Twitter, on Facebook, and even on Second Life, just like any modern producer and consumer of social media. But as much as we want a shiny, new Shakespeare just like us, 21^st century Shakespeare looks a lot like 19^th century Shakespeare. No matter how we want to shake the Romantics, we’re all still their children. Take away the Tweets and the Facebook updates, and our Shakespeare resembles their Shakespeare, especially in how artists saw him and depicted his creations. Please come over to Picture This at Big Think to read more of "Why 21^st Century Shakespeare Still Looks Like 19^th Century Shakespeare."

[Image: Robert Thew after Henry Fuseli. Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus and the Ghost. Published 29 September 1796. Stipple engraving on paper, 500 x 635 mm.]

New Horsemen, New Whores: Michael Caines “Revelations and Dog”

I always chuckle at the old joke about the dyslexic atheist holding up a sign saying, “There is no Dog!” Whenever talk turns to revelations and apocalypses, we all seem to be reading things backwards and upside down in hopes of making sense of the unknown, usually with comic results. Michael Caines’ Revelations and Dog riffs on the familiar song of the Book of Revelation to come up with a new tune for today’s topsy turvy world on the brink. It’s an almost perverse presentation to publish with Easter coming up, but Revelations and Dog’s joking may be the perfect antidote to the humorless, febrile dreams of religious radicalism. Caines comes up with the perfect new Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and Whore of Babylon for today’s faithful, and unfaithful. Please come over to Picture This at Big Think to read more of "New Horsemen, New Whores."

[Image: Michael Caines, Revelation chapter 6, ink and gouache on paper, 9.5 x 14 inches, 2009.]

[Many thanks to Mark Batty Publisher for providing me with a review copy of and the image from Revelations and Dog illustrated by Michael Caines.]

Rising Up: Leonard Baskin’s Portrait Gallery

When Daedalus crafted wings of feathers and wax for his son Icarus, he included the warning to not fly too close to the sun. As anyone who knows Greek mythology remembers, Icarus ignored the warning and plunged into the sea to his death. Artist Leonard Baskin never forgot the story of Icarus, which merged two of his greatest interests—men and birds—and created a woodcut of the fallen son in an egg-like oval, as if the tragic boy were truly born a bird. When Alfred Appel, Jr., a literary scholar as well as author on modern art and jazz, came across Baskin’s literary-tinged art in the 1960s, he fell, too—in love. Leonard Baskin: Art from the Gift of Alfred Appel, Jr., which runs at the Delaware Art Museum through January 9, 2011, tells the story of that collector’s love affair with Baskin’s art and Baskin’s love affair with the great artists in words and images that inspired his paintings and sculptures. Please come over to Picture This at Big Think to read more of "Rising Up."

[Image: Leonard Baskin (1922-2000). Icarus, 1967. Color woodcut on paper, 32 x 21 ¾ inches. Gift of Alfred Appel, Jr., 2009. © Estate of Leonard Baskin, Courtesy Galerie St. Etienne, New York.]

[Many thanks to the Delaware Art Museum for providing me with the image above and press materials for Leonard Baskin: Art from the Gift of Alfred Appel, Jr., which runs through January 9, 2011.]