Maury Gortemiller displays an interest in exploring the “residues of human experience.” Examining discarded objects, “the flotsam left behind,” in his opinion, has the ability to impart a wealth of information about individuals and attitudes. Gortemiller’s photographs appear to be ordinary; however, they certainly allow for potential imaginative and conceptual meanings.
This documentary features the story of self-made curators Herbert and Dorothy Vogel, a couple who began collecting works of unknown artists in the early 60s, crowding their little one bedroom apartment with tiny artworks by following two rules: 1. affordable, 2. small enough to fit in their apartment. The collection developed into one of the most important contemporary compilations – many of the amateurs they befriended in their early years continued on to become world renowned artists. Today, the collection is worth millions of dollars, but the couple has yet to sell a single piece. Their apartment got so packed, Dorothy reminisced, “Not even a toothpick could be squeezed in.” The couple donated a great part of their collection to the National Gallery of Art in Washington D.C. The Vogels still live in the same little apartment, and have restarted their collection again. “Curatorial visionaries,” they started their collection on meager means, Herbert a postal clerk and Dorothy a librarian; even with the rising fame of their collection, the two have maintained a humble lifestyle, sharing their space with fresh art, 19 turtles, fish, and a cat!
Space age abstraction – the power of design tools. Bechira Sorin’s recent digital work, especially the one above, retain a Neo-Dali aesthetic. I love how seamlessly everything ties together, and how fluid his composition is. That said, the futuristic surrealism does not speak for all his work, check out his other illustrations and experiments with typography after the jump.
Short Order Cook | Marathon, TX | 2-Person Household | She can bench press over 300 lbs. | 2007
In his “You Are What You Eat” portrait series, Mark Menjivar examines the interiors of refrigerators in homes across the United States. The result is an exploration of hunger issues, of “how we care for our bodies, for others, and for the land.” The result is a full spectrum of interpersonal connectivity in which everyone is truthfully represented.
In his statement, Menjivar claims, “A refrigerator is both a private and a shared space. One person likened the question, ‘May I photograph the interior of your fridge?’ to asking someone to pose nude for the camera. Each fridge is photographed ‘as is.’ Nothing added, nothing taken away.”
Daniel Entonado‘s work is friendly and wonderfully disproportionate. He conjures up whimsical situations, and executes them in a style mildly reminiscent of patchwork. I enjoy how his colors are not quite bright and not exactly pastel, but a nice medium.
Chow Martin uses ink and charcoal on mylar to create these magnificent half-animal, half-human, entirely fictional creatures. His intense, expressive linework seems to capture the flesh and muscles lying beneath the subject’s skin…or fur.
Check out Kako Ueda‘s cut paper masterpieces! With each project, she explores her deep interest in organic beings (insects, animals, and humans alike), and weaves them into mind-bogglingly intricate, extraordinarily precise patterns and forms. Her newest work (immediately after the jump!), still in-progress, is a hybrid figure measuring about 7 feet high!
Brea Souders, New York photographer, is opening up her studio for the public while she takes part in the Bushwick Open Studios and Arts Festival on June 7th. The image above is from an older series in her portfolio that explores the human desire to develop superstitions as a reaction to their “need for control in an uncertain world.” Each photograph plays on this theme through candid and staged scenes, where Souders believes her subjects are mentally returning to a “childhood sensibility,” what she believes is the root to superstition. I think her photographs carry an interesting feeling of stillness; they all feel quiet and calm, but also a little haunted.