The first sitting of the fifth democratic parliament elected a new speaker & nominated Jacob Zuma for his second term in Cape Town on Wednesday.
This page simply reformats the Flickr public Atom feed for purposes of finding inspiration through random exploration. These images are not being copied or stored in any way by this website, nor are any links to them or any metadata about them. All images are © their owners unless otherwise specified.
This site is a busybee project and is supported by the generosity of viewers like you.
The central focus of FDR’s second term was developing and executing the New Deal to bring the country out of economic turmoil. In this room, there are three scenes depicting the state of American citizens in the United States during the Great Depression. In front of you, against the large central wall, a rural family is depicted suffering from the effects of drought, dust bowls, and poverty. Inscribed above the sculpture is the following quote from FDR’s second inaugural address: “I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished.”
Turning away from this historic scene, visitors encounter two more sculptural vignettes by George Segal which exemplify the overwhelming issue of poverty. One scene, Appalachian Couple, captures a farm couple caught in what appears to be an unending cycle of despair. They appear in front of their barn, their only obvious possession a wooden chair.
George Segal
George Segal was born in the Bronx, New York City, in 1924. His parents had immigrated from eastern Europe. George exhibited an interest in art early and won honors for his work while still in high school. George was raised in New Jersey, where his family settled, and he helped his parents with their chicken-raising business throughout his teens. Later, he took over the farm and still lives there with his wife Helen. Today, the old chicken coops house his art studio.
Everyday life and everyday happenings form the basis of George Segal’s sculptures. His pieces are cast directly from live models, mostly friends and relatives. George’s method of sculpting is unique. It depends heavily on real-life events and people said within environments which he constructs from real elements and furnishings. Segal’s work is therefore figurative but it does not romanticize or idealize the people whom he casts.
As the critic Phyllis Tuckman explains in the book, George Segal: Recent Painted Sculpture, “Segal’s figures radiate an aura of the familiar. They look like the kind of people with whom you come in daily contact…. These slices of life’s scenarios belie or masked other aspects of this haunting art.” Segal’s environments express more than what is visible on the surface. They dig deeply and say much about the universal elements of life through their focus on simple tasks.
It was for these reasons that George Segal was chosen to work within the themes of the Memorial. George has strong feelings and deep empathy for the Roosevelt era. He quickly selected three everyday images that were descriptive of the essence of the Depression years in our country, which had such a deep influence on the character and quality of our culture. Within these depictions the message is one of inherent individual dignity in the face of overwhelming odds.
George Segal developed his very personal casting technique in the early 1960s. He starts by dipping cloth bandages in wet plaster and then applying them directly to a body or to an object. He spends time working with his models before casting, describing the gestures he is trying to achieve and choreographing the positioning of their bodies in space within the constructed environment. Artist and model work together to finalize the pose before wrapping begins. Once the format has been fixed, the bandages are fitted around the various parts of the body. Hardening takes only minutes and then the bandages are removed by splitting them into sections. Later, they are reassembled to form the final figures or, as was the case for figures in the Memorial, they become molds for the final bronze sculptures.
The stone in the second-term space is simple and treated with a smooth thermal finish that readily accepts President Roosevelt’s carved quotations. In fact, the stone walls in this room are in large measure covered over by large, bronze artworks. The main messages here are delivered through the media of sculpture, water, and quotations carved into the granite walls. The stone itself does not have the powerful, expressive impact in this space that it will have in the rooms representing the third and fourth terms.
“I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished. The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little.”
—Second Inaugural Address, Washington, D. C., January 20, 1937
The central focus of FDR’s second term was developing and executing the New Deal to bring the country out of economic turmoil. In this room, there are three scenes depicting the state of American citizens in the United States during the Great Depression. In front of you, against the large central wall, a rural family is depicted suffering from the effects of drought, dust bowls, and poverty. A bread line is also shown, representing the poverty and desperation of the working class during the Great Depression. Inscribed above the sculptures is the following quote from FDR’s second inaugural address: “I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished.”
Turning away from this historic scene, visitors encounter two more sculptural vignettes by George Segal which exemplify the overwhelming issue of poverty. One scene, Appalachian Couple, captures a farm couple caught in what appears to be an unending cycle of despair. They appear in front of their barn, their only obvious possession a wooden chair.
The urban companions to the rural couple are represented by a five-man portion of an urban breadline shuffling its way alongside a brick building. These lines, which formed outside food kitchens offering bread, soup, or groceries, often extended for many city blocks.
George Segal
George Segal was born in the Bronx, New York City, in 1924. His parents had immigrated from eastern Europe. George exhibited an interest in art early and won honors for his work while still in high school. George was raised in New Jersey, where his family settled, and he helped his parents with their chicken-raising business throughout his teens. Later, he took over the farm and still lives there with his wife Helen. Today, the old chicken coops house his art studio.
Everyday life and everyday happenings form the basis of George Segal’s sculptures. His pieces are cast directly from live models, mostly friends and relatives. George’s method of sculpting is unique. It depends heavily on real-life events and people said within environments which he constructs from real elements and furnishings. Segal’s work is therefore figurative but it does not romanticize or idealize the people whom he casts.
As the critic Phyllis Tuckman explains in the book, George Segal: Recent Painted Sculpture, “Segal’s figures radiate an aura of the familiar. They look like the kind of people with whom you come in daily contact…. These slices of life’s scenarios belie or masked other aspects of this haunting art.” Segal’s environments express more than what is visible on the surface. They dig deeply and say much about the universal elements of life through their focus on simple tasks.
It was for these reasons that George Segal was chosen to work within the themes of the Memorial. George has strong feelings and deep empathy for the Roosevelt era. He quickly selected three everyday images that were descriptive of the essence of the Depression years in our country, which had such a deep influence on the character and quality of our culture. Within these depictions the message is one of inherent individual dignity in the face of overwhelming odds.
George Segal developed his very personal casting technique in the early 1960s. He starts by dipping cloth bandages in wet plaster and then applying them directly to a body or to an object. He spends time working with his models before casting, describing the gestures he is trying to achieve and choreographing the positioning of their bodies in space within the constructed environment. Artist and model work together to finalize the pose before wrapping begins. Once the format has been fixed, the bandages are fitted around the various parts of the body. Hardening takes only minutes and then the bandages are removed by splitting them into sections. Later, they are reassembled to form the final figures or, as was the case for figures in the Memorial, they become molds for the final bronze sculptures.
The feeling of being caught in a closed system of poverty and hopelessness dissolves as we walk from the Fireside Chat to the second chamber of this space.
Up to this point, the memorial has been introverted and enclosed but a window in this outdoor room offer some relief with its view towards the west, towards the Potomac River. The window allows the sun to brighten the room with additional light and it allows those who pass in the secular world beyond a glimpse into the memorial and into these historic times.
The central focus of FDR’s second term was developing and executing the New Deal to bring the country out of economic turmoil. In this room, there are three scenes depicting the state of American citizens in the United States during the Great Depression. In front of you, against the large central wall, a rural family is depicted suffering from the effects of drought, dust bowls, and poverty. Inscribed above the sculpture is the following quote from FDR’s second inaugural address: “I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished.”
Turning away from this historic scene, visitors encounter two more sculptural vignettes by George Segal which exemplify the overwhelming issue of poverty. One scene, Appalachian Couple, captures a farm couple caught in what appears to be an unending cycle of despair. They appear in front of their barn, their only obvious possession a wooden chair.
George Segal
George Segal was born in the Bronx, New York City, in 1924. His parents had immigrated from eastern Europe. George exhibited an interest in art early and won honors for his work while still in high school. George was raised in New Jersey, where his family settled, and he helped his parents with their chicken-raising business throughout his teens. Later, he took over the farm and still lives there with his wife Helen. Today, the old chicken coops house his art studio.
Everyday life and everyday happenings form the basis of George Segal’s sculptures. His pieces are cast directly from live models, mostly friends and relatives. George’s method of sculpting is unique. It depends heavily on real-life events and people said within environments which he constructs from real elements and furnishings. Segal’s work is therefore figurative but it does not romanticize or idealize the people whom he casts.
As the critic Phyllis Tuckman explains in the book, George Segal: Recent Painted Sculpture, “Segal’s figures radiate an aura of the familiar. They look like the kind of people with whom you come in daily contact…. These slices of life’s scenarios belie or masked other aspects of this haunting art.” Segal’s environments express more than what is visible on the surface. They dig deeply and say much about the universal elements of life through their focus on simple tasks.
It was for these reasons that George Segal was chosen to work within the themes of the Memorial. George has strong feelings and deep empathy for the Roosevelt era. He quickly selected three everyday images that were descriptive of the essence of the Depression years in our country, which had such a deep influence on the character and quality of our culture. Within these depictions the message is one of inherent individual dignity in the face of overwhelming odds.
George Segal developed his very personal casting technique in the early 1960s. He starts by dipping cloth bandages in wet plaster and then applying them directly to a body or to an object. He spends time working with his models before casting, describing the gestures he is trying to achieve and choreographing the positioning of their bodies in space within the constructed environment. Artist and model work together to finalize the pose before wrapping begins. Once the format has been fixed, the bandages are fitted around the various parts of the body. Hardening takes only minutes and then the bandages are removed by splitting them into sections. Later, they are reassembled to form the final figures or, as was the case for figures in the Memorial, they become molds for the final bronze sculptures.
The stone in the second-term space is simple and treated with a smooth thermal finish that readily accepts President Roosevelt’s carved quotations. In fact, the stone walls in this room are in large measure covered over by large, bronze artworks. The main messages here are delivered through the media of sculpture, water, and quotations carved into the granite walls. The stone itself does not have the powerful, expressive impact in this space that it will have in the rooms representing the third and fourth terms.
“I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished. The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much; it is whether we provide enough for those who have too little.”
—Second Inaugural Address, Washington, D. C., January 20, 1937
The central focus of FDR’s second term was developing and executing the New Deal to bring the country out of economic turmoil. In this room, there are three scenes depicting the state of American citizens in the United States during the Great Depression. In front of you, against the large central wall, a rural family is depicted suffering from the effects of drought, dust bowls, and poverty. A bread line is also shown, representing the poverty and desperation of the working class during the Great Depression. Inscribed above the sculptures is the following quote from FDR’s second inaugural address: “I see one-third of a nation ill-housed, ill-clad, ill-nourished.”
Turning away from this historic scene, visitors encounter two more sculptural vignettes by George Segal which exemplify the overwhelming issue of poverty. One scene, Appalachian Couple, captures a farm couple caught in what appears to be an unending cycle of despair. They appear in front of their barn, their only obvious possession a wooden chair.
The urban companions to the rural couple are represented by a five-man portion of an urban breadline shuffling its way alongside a brick building. These lines, which formed outside food kitchens offering bread, soup, or groceries, often extended for many city blocks.
George Segal
George Segal was born in the Bronx, New York City, in 1924. His parents had immigrated from eastern Europe. George exhibited an interest in art early and won honors for his work while still in high school. George was raised in New Jersey, where his family settled, and he helped his parents with their chicken-raising business throughout his teens. Later, he took over the farm and still lives there with his wife Helen. Today, the old chicken coops house his art studio.
Everyday life and everyday happenings form the basis of George Segal’s sculptures. His pieces are cast directly from live models, mostly friends and relatives. George’s method of sculpting is unique. It depends heavily on real-life events and people said within environments which he constructs from real elements and furnishings. Segal’s work is therefore figurative but it does not romanticize or idealize the people whom he casts.
As the critic Phyllis Tuckman explains in the book, George Segal: Recent Painted Sculpture, “Segal’s figures radiate an aura of the familiar. They look like the kind of people with whom you come in daily contact…. These slices of life’s scenarios belie or masked other aspects of this haunting art.” Segal’s environments express more than what is visible on the surface. They dig deeply and say much about the universal elements of life through their focus on simple tasks.
It was for these reasons that George Segal was chosen to work within the themes of the Memorial. George has strong feelings and deep empathy for the Roosevelt era. He quickly selected three everyday images that were descriptive of the essence of the Depression years in our country, which had such a deep influence on the character and quality of our culture. Within these depictions the message is one of inherent individual dignity in the face of overwhelming odds.
George Segal developed his very personal casting technique in the early 1960s. He starts by dipping cloth bandages in wet plaster and then applying them directly to a body or to an object. He spends time working with his models before casting, describing the gestures he is trying to achieve and choreographing the positioning of their bodies in space within the constructed environment. Artist and model work together to finalize the pose before wrapping begins. Once the format has been fixed, the bandages are fitted around the various parts of the body. Hardening takes only minutes and then the bandages are removed by splitting them into sections. Later, they are reassembled to form the final figures or, as was the case for figures in the Memorial, they become molds for the final bronze sculptures.
As visitors leave the first-term room and continue the processional into the passageway which leads to room two, the parklike aspect of the Memorial's character takes over. Nature and plantings predominate here. This is an opportunity for visitors to relax and contemplate.
The quality of the experience shifts to a calm and meditative mood similar to that experienced in the garden. This aspect of the Memorial encourages sitting, reflection, and enjoyment of the serene space with an intimate, peaceful feeling. To the east, there are holy and cherry trees which block longer views across the Tidal Basin. To the west, a sloping lawn rises up to the height of the granite walls.
The backdrop for this tranquil passageway is an arch of azalea, rhododendron, viburnum, and other spring blooming shrubs, topped by a low cluster of dogwood and crabapple and a taller planting of deciduous canopy trees such as sugar maple, liquid amber, and pin oak. High on the slope toward the end of the passageway, there is a dense green club of pines that visually contains the space.
As visitors leave the first-term room and continue the processional into the passageway which leads to room two, the parklike aspect of the Memorial's character takes over. Nature and plantings predominate here. This is an opportunity for visitors to relax and contemplate.
The quality of the experience shifts to a calm and meditative mood similar to that experienced in the garden. This aspect of the Memorial encourages sitting, reflection, and enjoyment of the serene space with an intimate, peaceful feeling. To the east, there are holy and cherry trees which block longer views across the Tidal Basin. To the west, a sloping lawn rises up to the height of the granite walls.
The backdrop for this tranquil passageway is an arch of azalea, rhododendron, viburnum, and other spring blooming shrubs, topped by a low cluster of dogwood and crabapple and a taller planting of deciduous canopy trees such as sugar maple, liquid amber, and pin oak. High on the slope toward the end of the passageway, there is a dense green club of pines that visually contains the space.
As visitors leave the first-term room and continue the processional into the passageway which leads to room two, the parklike aspect of the Memorial's character takes over. Nature and plantings predominate here. This is an opportunity for visitors to relax and contemplate.
The quality of the experience shifts to a calm and meditative mood similar to that experienced in the garden. This aspect of the Memorial encourages sitting, reflection, and enjoyment of the serene space with an intimate, peaceful feeling. To the east, there are holy and cherry trees which block longer views across the Tidal Basin. To the west, a sloping lawn rises up to the height of the granite walls.
The backdrop for this tranquil passageway is an arch of azalea, rhododendron, viburnum, and other spring blooming shrubs, topped by a low cluster of dogwood and crabapple and a taller planting of deciduous canopy trees such as sugar maple, liquid amber, and pin oak. High on the slope toward the end of the passageway, there is a dense green club of pines that visually contains the space.
As visitors prepare to leave the second-term room, they enter a passageway which leads them toward room three. This passageway provides the same kind of quiet, contemplative space as did the first passageway. It slopes upward and there is a heavy, somber planting of pine trees on the horizon. There is, however, a suggestion of a new threat, and external one.
In this passageway, President Roosevelt speaks to the threat.
“We must scrupulously guard the civil rights and civil liberties of all citizens, whatever their background. We must remember that any oppression, any injustice, any hatred, is a wedge designed to attack our civilization.”
—Letter to the American Committee for Protection of Foreign-Born, January 9, 1940
As visitors prepare to leave the second-term room, they enter a passageway which leads them toward room three. This passageway provides the same kind of quiet, contemplative space as did the first passageway. It slopes upward and there is a heavy, somber planting of pine trees on the horizon. There is, however, a suggestion of a new threat, and external one.
In this passageway, President Roosevelt speaks to the threat.
“We must scrupulously guard the civil rights and civil liberties of all citizens, whatever their background. We must remember that any oppression, any injustice, any hatred, is a wedge designed to attack our civilization.”
—Letter to the American Committee for Protection of Foreign-Born, January 9, 1940
As visitors leave the first-term room and continue the processional into the passageway which leads to room two, the parklike aspect of the Memorial's character takes over. Nature and plantings predominate here. This is an opportunity for visitors to relax and contemplate.
The quality of the experience shifts to a calm and meditative mood similar to that experienced in the garden. This aspect of the Memorial encourages sitting, reflection, and enjoyment of the serene space with an intimate, peaceful feeling. To the east, there are holy and cherry trees which block longer views across the Tidal Basin. To the west, a sloping lawn rises up to the height of the granite walls.
The backdrop for this tranquil passageway is an arch of azalea, rhododendron, viburnum, and other spring blooming shrubs, topped by a low cluster of dogwood and crabapple and a taller planting of deciduous canopy trees such as sugar maple, liquid amber, and pin oak. High on the slope toward the end of the passageway, there is a dense green club of pines that visually contains the space.
The feeling of being caught in a closed system of poverty and hopelessness dissolves as we walk from the Fireside Chat to the second chamber of this space.
Up to this point, the memorial has been introverted and enclosed but a window in this outdoor room offer some relief with its view towards the west, towards the Potomac River. The window allows the sun to brighten the room with additional light and it allows those who pass in the secular world beyond a glimpse into the memorial and into these historic times.
The feeling of being caught in a closed system of poverty and hopelessness dissolves as we walk from the Fireside Chat to the second chamber of this space.
Up to this point, the memorial has been introverted and enclosed but a window in this outdoor room offer some relief with its view towards the west, towards the Potomac River. The window allows the sun to brighten the room with additional light and it allows those who pass in the secular world beyond a glimpse into the memorial and into these historic times.