If you’re a fan of sculpture be sure to check out Cinema Gallery’s exibition A Show of Heads. The exhibit tackles a wide array of subjects from which the artists reflect upon the psychological struggles that are fundamental to self-inquiry and the attempt to understand other human beings. It explores the pathos of idealism undermined by reality and the elusiveness of inner peace as promised by spiritual enlightenment.
A Show of Heads features work from Tom Bartel, Tanya Batura, Cristina Cordova, Thaddeus Erdahl, Judy Fox, Arthur Gonzalez, Roxanne Jackson, Doug Jeck, Akio Takamori, and Tip Toland.
Looks like an amazing exhibition, check out some of the artists after the jump!
The installations of Katharina Grosse are disorienting in scale, color, and material. Her use of color is wild bordering on violent. Brightly colored paint is sprayed over any surface the artist pleases, from the floor to walls and windows. Huge heaps of painted dirt fill the gallery space transforming the space from an architectural to a geological one. The dirt, paint, and various objects seem to intentionally undermine the white box that houses the installation. Her installations raucously question the very space they inhabit by allowing visitors experience it in a transformative way.
For those of you in Chicago, and fans of Austin Eddy and Howard Fonda’s works, they’ll be having a two person exhibition at Hungry Man gallery, opening next month on May 15th. Check out a couple of their works after the jump.
As part of Coca Cola’s Move to the Beat program for the 2012 Olympics, London design partners Asif Khan and Pernilla Ohrstedt put together the Coca Cola Beatbox pavilion in the Olympic Park, an interactive architectural installation composed of 200 translucent air cushions. The cushions respond to movement from pavilion visitors with sound and light, effectively remixing a track commissioned by the bottling company for the Games. Different areas in the structure emit various sports-themed sounds like sneakers squeaking on the court and recorded heart rates. This one’s probably not for the claustrophobic, but London is definitely the place to be right now. Concept sketches and more images of the musical pavilion after the jump. (via)
When the photographer Aline Smithson found an old, discarded doll from the 1970s, she was touched by his seeming unlovability; his bald head and uncannily wizened features made him unsuitable for most children. Like a lost boy, pitied for his strangeness, the doll found a home behind the artist’s camera. In rich and moody gray tones, Smithson constructs a visual narrative of poignant self-discovery, titled The Lonesome Doll.
The doll’s distinctively his floppy, childlike body works in tension with the firm face of an older man; in choosing to shoot him in black and white, Smithson heightens this drama, creating a dreamy, nostalgic atmosphere. The doll, no longer a boy and not yet a man, exists in a anxious state of perpetual adolescence; where he sits bolt upright in his bed as if woken by a child’s nightmare and dressed in a footed onesie, he also cautiously explores his sexuality, his oversized fingers grazing the shining nude body of another doll. Similarly, he submits to the caresses of a disheveled barbie.
Smithson’s doll is touchingly outcast by his own awkward existence; more mature than his companion toys, he must act out his fantasies with smaller, less ornate dolls, pressing their lips together, his wide-set eyes spit between each figure. He’s too small for the dollhouse, weighty for the clothesline. This strange adolescent is woefully confused, just verging on the point self-awareness. When stuck in a washing machine, he pleads for release, his stunned face reflected in the floor below. Take a look.
Smithson has created from these images a beautiful book that tells a poignant story of hope and love. She is currently looking for a publisher.
The series Hipster in Stone was captured by photographer Léo Caillard and retouched by Alexis Persani. The series’ premise is simple: classical statues don a hipster wardrobe. The effect, though, is amusing. A simple change or addition of clothing seems to transform each figure’s timeless grace to a modern boredom. Subtle expression becomes cool aloofness. However, the photographs do draw a strange similarity between ancient figures and modern models. A preoccupation with appearance and appreciation for (or obsession with) physical beauty seems to never have left us entirely.