There’s something so simple, playful and childlike in Daniel Jensen’s work. I really like the above bust- I don’t know if it’s because the material calls to mind….well, poop frosted with Betty Crocker icing that makes me equally delighted and repulsed to eat it for some reason. It’s like a weird mini-wheat come to sad life.
The humor may be pretty obvious in displacing hot rod models and putting them in odd, working class, mundane, broke down car scenarios, but Liz Cohen’s photographs are humorous nonetheless.
There is something desolate about Ryan Pierce’s woodblock-style paintings, although they’re filled with color and often the riotous bounty of nature…maybe it’s the lack of human presence that makes all of his scenes feel somewhat abandoned. A couple of the pieces below, in particular, are very Van-Gogh-ish in their paint handling and palette, a reference I feel I haven’t seen explored much out of young contemporary artists. Ryan seems to update the expressionist ethos into a post-industrial landscape.
Have you heard the news? Beautiful/Decay Book 1 is almost sold out! There are only 75 copies of this limited edition bad boy left. After Book 1 sold out on the online shop, we felt sorry for all you readers who didn’t get a chance to snap up your very own copy! So, out of the goodness of our hearts, we put the last 75 copies of Beautiful/Decay left on this earth(!) for sale again! You get a real bang for your buck- at just $20 a pop, you get an original artwork by Kyle Thomas, a one-of-a-kind sticker, and of course, 165 pages of glossy artist interviews and spreads!
Don’t miss out this time- pick up your copy on our online shop!
Tova Mozard’s works elicit the uncanny feeling of cinematic conflation and collapse. They’re like stills straight out of dreams you can’t remember, surrealist, hallucinatory, at times slightly comedic in their implausability. They all, somehow, seem to deal with mortality, what lays behind the curtain, absence, death, the supernatural…there is a haunting Lynch-ian tendency that I like too. In particular I love her photo after the jump of Pappy and Harriet’s restaurant, in Joshua Tree…a cheery bbq joint with country bands I have been to many a time…though I almost didn’t recognize it as Mozard makes it look like an ominous place from a horror movie. Many look like lost out-takes from Twin Peaks (she did name her solo exhibition after the Giant’s message to Agent Cooper….”the owls are not what they seem.”) I also like her ’cause she’s Swedish. Unsettling and seductive.
Izumi Keiji’s figurative sculptures seem to ridicule their subjects’ oblivion, in a playful way. Does anyone else find it humorous his poor sculptures are trying so hard to be normal, but can’t contain their bizarre idiosyncracies? It’s almost as if Izumi takes delight in rendering a white T and blue jeans, business-only bun wearing woman into a magical, blue lagoon water-fall headdress goddess with rainbows erupting from her armpits, as if about to take off in flight. She stands sort of delicately, both aware and inanimately unaware of her liminal position between a world in which anything is possible, and the mundane one you and I reside in. Not to be missed is the casual wear young man whose “afro” is turning into a martian below, completely unbeknownst to him…who knows, maybe I have a giant bolt of lightening erupting from my armpits, and I just don’t know it?
David O’Keefe’s clay sculptured caricatures are grotesquely accurate. There is a sliver of realistic figuration in their distortion that makes them strangely believable in their likeness. In particular the above image ruins my sincere affection for The Beatles, as they now look like horrible gremlins from a bad acid trip.
Todd Knopke weaves strange and wonderful quilts with heavy titles like “A Powerful Force,” “Stoner,” and “Conservation and Revelation (A Certain Solidity).” What?! I love the top image, of shrouded woodland mystics proffering ancient staffs and unknown orbs in the midst of whitelight/white heat/energy. I want to wrap my (technically) unborn black metal son in it while I sing him Sabbath to sleep! Who says quilting bees are just for fussy old ladies! Knopke’s sewn tableuxs shred! (Literally!)