“Global Street Food” is a show which is currently running at the Vitra Design Museum in Germany. The exhibition is made up of actual structures used by street food vendors around the world. It was curated by German art director Mike Meiré, who writes that it “is dedicated to the fascination with improvised kitchens in public places; urban fast food stations navigating the contrast between pragmatic dilettantism and complexity in the smallest of spaces.”
Will Ainley is bringing weird back! His illustrations are all about creatures with spindly arms, crazy teeth, and funky personalities. You have to wonder what a conversation might be like with one of them; they seem like they could be friendly, maybe just misunderstood, but sweet. His portfolio consists mainly of pencil illustrations and vector work, sometimes together, sometimes separate; Ainley’s Prog Rock Monster is a cool example of how he drafts and produces his creatures, down to the last detail. He’s got a great sense of color, and adds a lot of character to his illustrations by exploring line theory, texture, and distortion. More after the jump!
Korean artist Myung Kuen Koh creates intimate structural sculptures of shifting perceptions. Myung Kuen Koh’s work acts as tiny dreamlands that perfectly suggest a certain non-specific person, place, and/or time. Each piece takes the form of an urban structure — one that seems effortlessly familiar. Perhaps each one is an ode to the past; an old home, the house of an ex lover, a place that was once cherished. Their open movement and intentional distortion possibly hint at the fragility and elusiveness of memory. His images tend to portray two seemingly unrelated subjects: classical sculpture and urban, and often run down, buildings. However, these two images, despite their differences, achieve an equal sense of meditative air. Both types of images allude to a type of quiet, yet demanding physical construction that refer to a means to measure history. His work, it seems, could be either inherently personal, or, on the contrary, be focused on a collective notion of time. The artist’s work is almost cinematic, each piece being reminiscent to projector images along a edifice’s surface. Myung Kuen Koh’s delicate work is created through the process of layering translucent images. He then laminates his images and with goes the task of melting them together, resulting in a shimmering and striking sculptural montage. (via hi fructose)
British artist Richard Galpin has developed a very specific method which he uses to create all of his work, going all the way back to 2001. He shoots photographs in cities and then takes a scalpel to them, stripping away pieces of the image until a new kind of image of urban space – a very futuristic urban space – emerges. So while he is imagining the future, we can still see the vestiges of the past.
Working in her studio in Sausalito, CA, sculptor Sophia Collier uses a combination of acrylic block and algebraic function (with a little help from a CNC router), to carve sculptures of wind. The clear, floating relief works look like freeze-frame slices of the water’s surface. She spends a great deal of time replicating the effects that both wind and light create on a large body of water using custom rendering software and sound recordings of the wind. Collier carefully mimics its movements and reactions with a series of digital “brushes” she has created, working to develop unique strings of information to carve out each piece. The sound waves move and fluctuate in the digital space just as they do in the physical realm—and the result is a crystallized portrait of the wind, giving the visual effect of sunlit water. She outlines her entire process here.
Erika Sanada’s imaginary creatures toe the line between the grotesque and the adorable; inspired by her childhood trauma and memories of bullying, the artist delves into her deepest anxieties, plucking out tiny hairless ceramic beasts, each of whom appears strangely misshapen by a nervous sort of womb. As a girl, Sanada imagined transforming her tormenters into hideous monsters, presented here as birds and rats with twin heads or dogs that display infinite rows of glinting teeth.
As if stolen from a perverse Eden, Sanada’s endearing beasts are as innocent as they are frightful. “Newborns” introduces a trinity of puppy-rat hybrids, who, despite their sharp claws and thick, bald tails, elicit our sympathies; their soft, tender eyes have yet to open, and the tiniest of baby tongues pokes out of a toothless mouth. Similarly, a hairless beast crawls across a platform, leaving a trail of sticky epoxy that resembles amniotic fluid. He has two tails, each fleshy and naked, and yet he is so poignantly small and delicate that we yearn to comfort and protect him as he makes a perilous journey into the adult world.
As if possessed, Sanada’s cast of characters, whom she charmingly refers to as “Odd Things,” reveal black marble-white eyes, absent of pupils or irises, the effect of which is wonderfully unsettling. As we confront these magical manifestations of our most secret fears, they stare back invisibly, tracking us not with sight but with an intractable knowledge of our own vulnerabilities. Take a look. (via KoiKoiKoi)