last year i decided to take up the task of reading and rereading books on art criticism and theory. finishing this was lyotard’s discourse, figure; which i found interesting up to a point. that point was the end (in my opinion) when it seemed like he just wanted to stick it to freud and the whole oedipal connection was a little far fetched. but i digress that was last year.
this year i decided to take it easy on myself, or perhaps i was just in need of some fiction and lighter fare. i just finished up Iznik pottery and tiles in the calouste gulbenkian collection. concise, informative essays, descriptions/definitions as well as beautiful color plates. the other art book i read was one on persian ceramics from the 9th-14th century. not really knowing much about the subject (but wanting to know more) this one left me a little in the dark but again the color plates were lovely and in fact the catalogue in the back was complete with detailed information about each piece.
the rest of the summer was spent on pulp fiction crime and starting to tackle the birthday books, the only one i got to being left of the dial. conversations with punk icons (the author being a former acquaintance or ex relative of a friend sort of relation) it was pretty good. its interesting to note how detailed the early scene becomes from the various oral histories given and you can see the bits of overlap here and there.
and of course now the kids are back and with it the freedom read what i want where i want or at least for the next couple of weeks while i brush up on pietalka’s clay a studio handbook and our architecture texts.