Move over, Subway sandwich artists. There’s a new guy in town, and this time the pizza variety. Domenico Crolla is the owner of Bella Napoli restaurant in Glasgow, Scotland, and serves up tasty pies that feature portraits of celebrities. They are drawn directly onto the pizza using a well-place and calculated combination of cheese and sauce.
If you look closely, you’ll see that that small, intricate details are expressed through mozzarella. Wisps of hair and individual eyelashes are visible. It seems that Crolla has used some sort of stencil to ensure the likeness of each public figure and control the cheese from becoming a melty, unrecognizable mess.
Some of these pies might look too impressive to eat. Or, maybe not. It could be really cathartic to slice into the face of a celebrity that you disliked! Either way, the formula for enjoying Crolla’s handiwork is the same – look first, eat later. (Via designboom)
In 1850, Walter Potter was 15 years old when he first began experimenting with taxidermy. By the age of 19, Potter had already created his best-known taxidermy tableaux, “The Death and Burial of Cock Robin” which was displayed, along with his other work, at a pub his family owned in Bramber, West Sussex. Potter’s taxidermy dioramas feature anthropomorphized animals acting out Victorian life scenes. During the Victorian era, taxidermy was a popular practice, and in 1880, a dedicated museum building was opened because the tableaux at the pub had created quite a scene. Over time, the interest in taxidermy declined, and the museum was moved before closing down.
Though Potter’s dioramas could be considered morbid, especially by modern standards, there’s something Beatrix Potteresque (no relation) about his work, mostly in its strange and whimsical Victorianism. “Kittens’ Wedding” was Potter’s last tableaux before his death in 1890; this piece was auctioned at Bonham’s (along with most of the collection) in 2003 for £21,150 (around $35,500). Among those present at the auction were artists Peter Blake, David Bailey, and Damien Hirst, who reportedly bid £1 million (almost $1.7) for Potter’s entire collection, but it was rejected by the auctioneers. This caused the owners of the collection to sue Bonham’s because they believed such an offer should have been immediately accepted in order to keep the collection in tact. In 2007, Hirst told The Guardian that “Kittens’ Wedding” was one of his favorites of Potter’s work: “All these kittens dressed up in costumes, even wearing jewellery. The kittens don’t look much like kittens, but that’s not the point.”
The Telegraph notes, “To a modern eye […]these ‘freaks of nature’ appear eerily macabre. Indeed, some Victorian viewers were outraged by the grotesquery and criticised Potter for abuse of animals, despite a museum disclaimer stating that no animals had been deliberately killed for the collection.” But then they later explain that not all of Potter’s tableaux were sourced ethically. Before neutering was commonplace, freely roaming farm kittens would often be killed off. Potter had an agreement with a local farmer who provided the kittens; this would explain the high number of participants in his tableaux.
The accompanying images are sourced from Dr. Pat Morris and Joanna Ebenstein’s book about Potter and his work, “Walter Potter’s Curious World of Taxidermy,” released earlier this year. Ebenstein says that she’s interested in “the context that creates these things, and why certain things come to be seen as bizarre to us, when obviously they weren’t at the time.” (via telegraph)
In a world of online matchmaking and social media, the artist Noortje de Keijzer offers a simpler option: an art piece and product entitled My Knitted Boyfriend, a knit pillowcase that comes to life when stuffed. In this witty critique of modern dating and expectations, My Knitted Boyfriend eliminates all the messy parts of a human relationship, conforming to individual preferences; he will enjoy whatever you enjoy, and he “can be adjusted to your own tastes” with the use of accessories like facial hair, tattoos, or glasses.
Although humorous in its somewhat cynical outlook on modern love, the piece is unexpectedly sentimental. The boyfriend himself comes along with an illustrated book narrating the story of de Keijzer and her cuddly lover, much like children’s picture books that include a stuffed animal. Also like a children’s storybook, the text and illustration follows a simple, nostalgic format: we are told that they “sleep together” and are offered an innocent sketch of the pair doing just that. The boyfriend, though he is not real, becomes a precious manifestation of the fictional—or imaginary—friend that enchants the young mind.
Complicating the delightfully sweet story of the artist and her beau is the work’s clever take on the domestic theme. As seen in her charming short film, the relationship is build not around professional ambition or the public realm; instead, they eat breakfast and watch movies. In fact, the man himself is knitted and therefore associated with the home. This 1950s-style domestic romanticism is brilliantly complicated and subverted by the fact that the male and not the female here is the homemaker; in place of the mid-century ideal of the perfect wife, My Knitted Boyfriend is that crucial element that makes a house a home. In the artist’s own astute words to her knitted partner, “You fit in my interior perfectly.” (via Design Boom)
Luminaria by Architects of Air is a touring inflatable structure. The ‘building’ has made stops internationally since 1992. Visitors to the Luminaria remove their shoes and enter an air lock. Once through the airlock visitors are free to roam the structure. The Luminaria is built of inflated PVC. Sunlight from outside shines through the various colors of PVC creating an otherworldly glow. The highly saturated colors coupled with the gently curving walls and floor give the Luminaria a subtle biological nature. Interestingly one visitor describes the structure as ” Somewhere between a womb and a cathedral.”
David Spriggs‘ installations are crafted meticulously with acrylic paint on panes of glass, producing an otherworldly effect that is utterly complete. Appearing like holograms before the viewers, they make a spectacle out of the conceptual, exploring ideas such as perception and emergence and consciousness.
In many of his pieces, it’s as though Spriggs has caught something ethereal and fleeting on a microscope slide, allowing us to inspect it however temporarily. His painstaking methods and striking presentation force viewers to look beyond the surface of his works, allowing the amorphous metaphorical nature of his subject matter to take center stage.
“Perception of Consciousness,” for instance looks at first glance like the many layers of a cloud. However, suspended in mid air, the image beckons and implies a deeper meaning. “My interest in clouds and atmospheric phenomena is not one so much of learning about them as natural phenomena, but rather an interest in their symbolic nature and representation,” Spriggs explains. “The cloud is an ephemeral form, without boundaries, and in constant change; interesting properties that in the context of history of art find affinity with Futurist theories and certain concepts of the light and space artists of the 60/70′s on the nature of space and form.”
Spriggs draws his inspiration from a wide variety of disciplines, such as psychology and the information age. He seeks to examine the relationships and dichomoties between abstractions and the way they affect the material world. The space they occupy is just as important as their shapes themselves. (via Hi-Fructose)
Dear readers: prepare yourselves for a journey into a bizarre, colorful world of hand-devouring stomachs and dancing, cookie-headed girls. Ben&Julia (Benoit Creac’h and Julia Gaudard) — a French-Swiss creative team known for their humorously surreal and eccentric art and films — have recently shared “Cookie Jar,” a strange (and highly entertaining) music video with Traffic Signs and Jake the Rapper. The video features Jake dancing with a hungry, animated stomach, enticing us to put our hands in the “cookie jar”. Behind him, leotard-clad cookie girls groove along while waving their severed arms, mixing together cartoon imagery with a playful flavor of morbidity. According to Ben&Julia, the storyline for this video is as follows:
“‘Cookie Jar’” tells the story of the Cookie Girls ‘Shannon’ and her sister ‘Krystal’ and their attraction for Jake The Rapper’s little friend: ‘Young Belly’. While the two are fascinated by this little fella, they fall into the trap and put their hands in the Cookie Jar.”
Ben&Julia’s works are often built around metaphors and morals that — despite their fun and absurd presentation — are rooted in good-intentioned and real-world wisdom. One such cautionary message that can be gleaned from “Cookie Jar” is in regards to curiosity, that insatiable drive to learn and try new things: “Curiosity can be a sign of intelligence,” write Ben&Julia. “[But] you might lose a hand or two.”
“Cookie Jar” is their 7th music video, following in the footsteps of Nena’s new single “Lieder von Früher” as well as “Pancakes and Syrup,” which was created for Nickelodeon’s “Yo Gabba Gabba” (featuring Biz Markie). Ben&Julia’s visual art likewise depicts their affinity for colorful, fun, and somewhat mad scenarios and characters; check out their large-scale installation project titled “Kaluk, the Five-Eared Dog,” currently being shown at the Museum of Contemporary Art of Monterrey, Mexico. Visit their website, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter and keep up-to-date with these delightfully odd and innovative storytellers.
Korean sculptor Cha Jong Rye shapes, carves, sculpts and manipulates wood to not look like wood. Whether it’s building the material up into pyramids sprouting up from a 2D surface, or forming wood into a free standing spiky form, or making it resemble a scrunched up ball of paper, Jong Rye is one competent carver. She splices different layers of wood together and builds up new shapes, alluding to the actual growth patterns of the raw material. The spikes, recesses, folds, indents and bubbles she makes are her way of allowing the life and energy of the wood come to the surface. One curator talks about her work in a very holistic way:
Flowing with immaterial energy, her sculptures represent the external and inner rhythms of all beings in nature in the state of complete absence of ego. Those little sharp forms composing each work are wriggling upward as if to touch the sky. They, that is, the modules are getting smaller upward as if to indicate the layers of time piled up in nature and universe. They are twisting upwards in their own disparate directions, until they evaporate or disappear into the limitless, leaving only their points. (Source)
Whatever the wooden forms of Jong Rye represents, she does inject a beautiful serenity into them. Her sculptures have a calming effect about them; as if we were there with her in a meditative trance while she was making them. The physical act of her carving the repetitive forms are for sure some sort of way of Jong Rye closing herself off and letting the wood be wood, or in this case, letting it be whatever it wants to be. (Via Dayraven)