We posted Todd Knowpke’s work a while back but he has some new works on his site so it’s time to take a second look. When i first saw Todd’s work online I thought “wow these are funky shaped stretchers.” It took me a few minutes to realize that I was staring at massive, mind blowing, sewn pieces of fabric! What I love best is that Todd keeps all the various moves that most painters make but makes them his own by introducing sewn fabric into the mix. The result is a collage like surface full of stitching, layered fabric, and awesome detail.
Mia Christopher lives and works in San Francisco, CA. Her vivacious paintings are executed in an intuitive manner with a wide variety of materials. Latex, glitter, eyeshadow and more are utilized to create luscious abstractions that immediately storm the viewer. Equal parts exuberant and grim, the dichotomy of her work derives from innermost feelings that are poured out to each surface as a way to communicate and promote personal exploration.
Los Angeles-based artist Aaron Smith‘s bearded portraiture combines rough brushstrokes and bright colors in this spectacular series. By using photographs of Victorian gentlemen, Smith re-imagines the men in vibrant colors with the thick impasto showing a modern sensibility. More after the jump.
Robbie Augspurger’s halo-framed, serious soft lit yearbook style photos of meta-mockingly universal avant-garde hipsters kind of look like every kid I went to art school with. Alone, meditative, satirically pleased in their undulous Alanis Morisette-induced irony, they hold symbols of their trade. Cheap beer, American Apparel headbands, bushy beards, outmoded key-tars, bad/good sunglasses (including post-op laser eye surgery senior citizen style & your weird Uncle’s shades) and Bill Cosby sweaters. You know the type. I can’t explain why simple headshots of people who look like extras in a Miranda July/Michael Cera movie, done in tasteful/tasteless late 80’s/early 90’s Kodachrome, are so endlessly amusing. But they are. Robie also does wedding portraiture. Fitting though, right?
Constance Mallinson‘s large-scale paintings merge the man-made world and nature literally by constructing figures from images of leaves, twigs, and decaying organic material. They are grotesque meditations on both the mortality of humans and the world in which they live. Her full-figured “nature people” reference both the works of Giuseppe Arcimboldo, the 16th-century Italian known for paintings in which still life objects are used to form surreal portraits, and famous paintings, such as Edouard Manet’s 1863 seminal painting “Olympia.”
In examining her recent paintings created from decaying matter, L.A. Times critic Christopher Knight wrote that “after painting savvy landscapes for more than twenty five years”… the current “imagery suggests the way in which we project ourselves on conceptions of nature, creating the natural world even as we go about assuring its destruction.”
In his series “tautochronos”, German artist Michel Lamoller takes multiple photographs of the same place at different times, then prints and layers them, physically carving them into one image, sculpting two-dimensional space into three-dimensions. By then photographing the transformed image Lamoller returns the work to two-dimensions, playing with space and volume, echoing the compression of time and place in his work. The deconstructed figures in the resulting photographs are a visual reminder that people are always changing and never fully revealed.
People often speak of ghosts, and that’s what these photographs bring to mind—the pieces left behind when time passes and things change. It’s almost archeological, the parts covered, the parts revealed. The remains remain, an artifact of time passed.
The photos that are mainly figural express the changes in an individual over time. Clothed, naked. Smiling, serious. Button-down, t-shirt. They are a literal portrait of days.
The images that integrate a figure into the environment are more evocative. In one image, a woman seems to be decomposing, dissolving into grass and trees. Another figure blends into a brick building, almost indecipherable. One person’s body seems to be fossilizing as cobblestones stretch up his legs like moss. A book-lined wall is interrupted by fragmented pieces of a man’s face. Are the pieces so small because the impact of the person in the space was so inconsequential?
The word tautochronos is made of two Greek parts: tauto from the combining form meaning same, chronos meaning time. In combining different moments in the same place Lamoller has stopped time.