William Blake and the Age of Aquarius / by Stephen F. Eisenman -- Prophets, madmen, and millenarians: Blake and the (counter)culture of the 1790s / by Mark Crosby -- William Blake on the West Coast / Elizabeth Ferrell -- William Blake and art against surveillance / Jacob Henry Leveton -- Building Golgonooza in the Age of Aquarius / John Murphy -- "My teacher in all things": Sendak, Blake, and the visual language of childhood / Mark Crosby -- Blake then and now / W.J.T. Mitchell
Winner of the Eugene M. Emme Astronautical Literature Award A Bloomberg View Must-Read Book of the Year A Choice Outstanding Academic Title of the Year “A substance-rich, original on every page exploration of how the space program interacted with the environmental movement, and also with the peace and ‘Whole Earth’ movements of the 1960s.” —Tyler Cowen, Marginal Revolution The summer of 1969 saw astronauts land on the moon for the first time and hippie hordes descend on Woodstock. This lively and original account of the space race makes the case that the conjunction of these two era-defining events was not entirely coincidental. With its lavishly funded mandate to put a man on the moon, the Apollo mission promised to reinvigorate a country that had lost its way. But a new breed of activists denounced it as a colossal waste of resources needed to solve pressing problems at home. Neil Maher reveals that there were actually unexpected synergies between the space program and the budding environmental, feminist and civil rights movements as photos from space galvanized environmentalists, women challenged the astronauts’ boys club and NASA’s engineers helped tackle inner city housing problems. Against a backdrop of Saturn V moonshots and Neil Armstrong’s giant leap for mankind, Apollo in the Age of Aquarius brings the cultural politics of the space race back down to planet Earth. “As a child in the 1960s, I was aware of both NASA’s achievements and social unrest, but unaware of the clashes between those two historical currents. Maher [captures] the maelstrom of the 1960s and 1970s as it collided with NASA’s program for human spaceflight.” —George Zamka, Colonel USMC (Ret.) and former NASA astronaut “NASA and Woodstock may now seem polarized, but this illuminating, original chronicle...traces multiple crosscurrents between them.” —Nature
How did a decade that dawned with the Age of Aquarius end in Altamont and the Manson Family bloodbath? The 1960s were a time of revolution - political, social psychedelic, sexual. But there was another revolution that many historians forget the rise of a powerful current that permeated pop culture and has been a central influence on it ever since. It was a magical revolution - a revival of the occult. Previously rejected and ridiculed beliefs took centre stage, reaching the Beatles and the Rolling Stones, saturating the the hippies and flower power, hitting the big screen with Rosemary's Baby and the bookshelves with Lord of the Rings. The Tarot. I Ching, astrology, Kabbala, yogis, witchcraft, UFOs, Aleister Crowley. Yin Yang and the Tibetan Book of the Dead now became the common currency they are today. But the vibes went bad, the auras darkened. Did that darker undercurrent win out? Gary Lachman here charts this explosion, its rise and fall, and its enduring legacy --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
"William Blake is a universal artist--an inspiration to visual artists, musicians, poets, and performers worldwide as well as everyone who aspires to the ideals of personal, spiritual, and creative liberty. His heroic story has inspired an invigorated generations. His personal struggles during a period of political terror and oppression, his technical innovations, and his political commitment all remain deeply relevant today. This book presents a comprehensive overview of Blake's work as a printmaker, poet, and painter, foregrounding his relationship with the art world of his time and telling the stories behind many of his most iconic images."--
An exploration of contemporary Tahitians and a long-dead French painter, sex today and sex in the late 19th century, and colonialism new and old. Written on the boundary between art history and anthropology, it reads like a biography and a mystery.
Issued in conjunction with the exhibition Caravans of Gold, Fragments in Time, held January 26, 2019-July 21, 2019, Mary and Leigh Block Museum of Art, Northwestern University, Evanston, Illinois.
Part religious study and part scientific study The Age of Aquarius: The Golden Age of Mankind is a fascinating insight into religion, science and the stars. Split into chapters, providing tips on how to meditate, information on astrological symbolism, the Seven Seals and the planets, there is sure to be something to interest everyone in this book. There are chapters on each of the individual planets, and the book also contains diagrams and illustrations throughout, which will fascinate readers.
The issue of zoos is not about treatment, but use; not about reform, but abolition. Zoos often pay lip-service to “education,” “enrichment,” and “conservation,” but the cruelty is systemic and follows from the idea of animals as commodities. As long as they are property, animals will continue to be treated as things, with no rights, who can be caged, bred, abused, or killed for a zoo’s profit and the public’s entertainment. In Zooicide, Sue Coe applies her bold and breathtaking artistic style to confront the institution of zoos, exposing them as a form of capitalist cruelty that is enmeshed with the violence of war, colonialism, and ecological destruction.
In Levels of Argument, Dominic Scott compares the Republic and Nicomachean Ethics from a methodological perspective. In the first half he argues that the Republic distinguishes between two levels of argument in the defence of justice, the 'longer' and 'shorter' routes. The longer is the ideal and aims at maximum precision, requiring knowledge of the Forms and a definition of the Good. The shorter route is less precise, employing hypotheses, analogies and empirical observation. This is the route that Socrates actually follows in the Republic, because it is appropriate to the level of his audience and can stand on its own feet as a plausible defence of justice. In the second half of the book, Scott turns to the Nicomachean Ethics. Scott argues that, even though Aristotle rejects a universal Form of the Good, he implicitly recognises the existence of longer and shorter routes, analogous to those distinguished in the Republic. The longer route would require a comprehensive theoretical worldview, incorporating elements from Aristotle's metaphysics, physics, psychology, and biology. But Aristotle steers his audience away from such an approach as being a distraction from the essentially practical goals of political science. Unnecessary for good decision-making, it is not even an ideal. In sum, Platonic and Aristotelian methodologies both converge and diverge. Both distinguish analogously similar levels of argument, and it is the shorter route that both philosophers actually follow--Plato because he thinks it will have to suffice, Aristotle because he thinks that there is no need to go beyond it.
"The revised and expanded edition of Nineteenth Century Art: A Critical History embraces many aspects of the so-called 'new' art history - attention to issues of class and gender, reception and spectatorship, racism and Eurocentrism - while at the same time recovering the remarkable vitality, salience and subversiveness of the era's best art. Indeed, the authors insist that there is a profound sympathy between these new perspectives and the art under examination. For it was nineteenth-century artists who first addressed the issues that preoccupy audiences and scholars today: the relation between popular and elite culture, the legacy of the Enlightenment, the question of the canon, and the representation of workers, women and non-whites."--BOOK JACKET.
