Spanish graphic designer Txaber has come up with an ingenious idea. Now we can see what is on the inside – on the outside. He has teamed up the colors of different beer with various shades of Pantone. At this stage this snappy idea is only a design concept – Txaber has said no companies are interested in producing, “but hopefully they will see the light.” The simplicity of this packaging has struck a chord with many people, and is an expansion of a similar idea launched last year.
Called Beertone, two Swiss designers Alexander Michelbach and Daniel Eugster created a color wheel also based on Pantone guides. They envisioned a beer lover to assemble this color wheel and choose their preferred brew from it. Every type of beer has it’s own swatch with all relevant information: brewery name, alcohol content, an image of the bottle and numerical values for its color in CMYK, RGB, and HTML. With over 202 colors (and separate beer types) Michelbach and Eugster no doubt would have been kept busy taste testing.
Whether it is a color wheel or a yet-to-be-realized design concept, the idea of marketing brewed beer based on slick packaging seems to a popular one. Txaber’s approach is an elegant, simple, understated one and shows the best side of the world’s third most popular drink. Ranging from Pale Ale to Imperial Stout, these designers have got the range covered. “Because beer comes in more colors than yellow or blurry.”(Via Lost At E Minor)
Wasma Mansour decided to document single Saudi Arabian women (living in the UK and Saudi Arabia) for her PhD thesis. She knew this was a subject that interested her due to its lack of coverage. She found there was a lack of investigation of women on their own, far too often women were measured with male counterparts; spouses, partners.
At first Mansour reached out using facebook and email, phishing randomly. She found this didn’t yield enough results. She found that making a more personal connection with the women, unsurprisingly, had them trust her more readily. Both the fact that the work was being done for educational purposes, and that Mansour herself was single, had the women open up to Mansour more enthusiastically. According to Mansour, they identified with her approach and saw that she could truly understand their lifestyle. Her subjects were in school themselves in Saudi Arabia and the UK.
Interestingly, Mansour had her large-scale film developed in the UK. This was in part because there were not many labs that were able to process her film in Saudi Arabia, but also because she found negotiating autonomously on a daily basis was very challenging. This being exactly the type of theme Mansour sought to confront in her work. (Via Emaho Magazine)
Images of John Malkovich dressed as Marilyn Monroe and Andy Warhol have been circulating the Internet the past few days. Although we’ve all been marveling at the actor’s ability to recreate these iconic images, I decided to dig a little deeper.
The Malkovich, Malkovich, Malkovich series (to be exhibited at Catherine Edelman Gallery November 7th) is as impressive as it is enjoyable; not only does Malkovich do a spectacular job of impersonating the (almost) inimitable celebrities, Sandro Miller should also be given credit for imitating each distinct style of photography. Anneliese Cooper points out in her article for Art Info that Malkovich possesses some amorphous quality with the ability to personify almost anyone, even though his facial features are rather unmistakable. She identifies – as the Millers series implies in name as well – that the film Being John Malkovich (written by Charlie Kauffman) somehow predicted or identified this inherent chameleon character of Malkovich.
What you probably have not seen, are Millers original portraits of Malkovich. They demonstrate the actor’s unbelievable ability to transform, and also Miller’s skillful curation of props and scenes to offer Malkovich the opportunity to express such a broad range of emotion. Malkovich’s emotional vocabulary spans disparity, rage, nonchalance, and a slew of other expressions that honestly, cannot be summed in a single word.
Photographer Josh Cheuse got his break back when people still used payphones and punk was still alive. At age 16, he used some spare change and a lot of guts to call up The Clash. He wanted to photograph them, they agreed, and the rest — as they say — is history.
“I just loved music, and with no musical talent it was my way in – my contribution to the party,” Cheuse said in an interview with It’s Nice That. “I loved documentary photography and war photographs and the music scene had the same excitement level with less immediate danger.”
It started with The Clash and never stopped. Cheuse’s 30 years of photography can be seen at his latest exhibition, “Grooving Years,” at the Morrison Hotel Gallery in New York City. It features exclusive photographs from all over the musical world, from Run DMC to the Beastie Boys to Lady Gaga. One of Cheuse’s most frequent subjects was Joe Strummer, Cheuse’s dear friend as well as, of course, the frontman of revolutionary punk band The Clash.
Asked about his relationship with Strummer, Cheuse answers, “Great friend, guru, mentor, teacher, partner in crime. I miss him something awful.” That’s the secret to Cheuse’s photographs: They capture his subjects close-up in a way that, instead of being exploitative, is simply honest and human.
“Grooving Years” opened a week ago on September 18th and runs until October 11th, 2014. For more information, visit the gallery website.
At first glance, media artist Nicholas Hanna‘s installation looks like some kind of DIY gallows. It’s sparsely constructed: just wood and string set before a simple $20 table fan. Below the string, a tray filled with liquid soap — death by Mr. Clean, perhaps?
Then the machine kicks into gear, dipping the string into the soap, drawing it up slowly, and suddenly an iridescent bubble blooms out of nothing. Magic.
Hanna works seem to incorporate one part engineering and two parts childhood wonder. One of his other pieces is a Beijing tricycle that, as the rider pedals, uses water droplets to write Chinese calligraphy in Courier New. Another piece utilizes motion sensors to cause a cascade of light depending on how a candle flame is shielded by a hand. And another still is a long gunmetal trumpet mounted on a toy truck, labeled simply as “Fire Truck #1.” What does the fire truck do? It starts sounding the alarms at 7:30 p.m., of course.
The bubble machine — “Bubble Device #1,” naturally — is another one of these curiosities. It’s unusual to see beautiful bubbles created by something as sterile as Hanna’s spare framed machine, in an environment as austere as a plain white-walled room. But the wonder is still there.
Raised a Catholic, and using obvious religious iconography, Liz Maw like to paint other-worldly and sublime beings. By combining the faces of celebrities or people she knows and admires with pseudo-mystical relics she glorifies them. Maw draws on many different periods and styles, mixing contemporary symbols with techniques from the Old Dutch masters, her subjects in poses akin to many Renaissance works. It is this mix of old and new; mundane and divine; hyper-realism and fantasy; sacred and profane that makes her work at once beautiful and comical. As one critic said:
“Her sleek paintwork resembles air brushing in its precision, offering a surrealism somewhere between Salvador Dali and the kind of hot-rod paintings which stretch across panel vans. Liz’s paintings are drenched with a sense of desire, beauty and power.” (source)
Her “Colleen” painting features a beautiful naked woman perched on a cloud surrounded by floating seashells and in a glowing sky illuminated by lightning. Intentionally referring to The Immaculate Conception painting, Maw manages to rework something old and accepted with a kitschy, slightly erotic spin. Talking about what is “distasteful” and what isn’t, Maw likes to challenge people’s standards. She says she doesn’t understand why some people will accept a painting of a figure with one breast covered, and others would think it to be inappropriate.
“I think that female sexuality is a very mystical thing… I don’t think that romance goes seamlessly into sex for women really. Maybe it can, maybe it can’t. A lot of women disconnect romance from sex. I don’t know why that is. “
She wants to paint to encourage more warmth and softness, and less judgement. And I think one painting at a time she will.
A screenshot, or screen capture, is a tool that’s existed on computers for a very long time, and it’s an easily accessible modern-day archival method. In just a split second, we can take a snapshot of our desktop or movie screen and save it later use. For Japanese artist Toru Izumida, this simple process is used to create collage-esque artwork.
“I use selections of online media to create unexpected combinations that are finalized into a single screenshot,” says Izumida. “The exact date and signature of the creation is recorded on every work.” We see multiple screens open and contain pictures of textures, people, landscapes, and more. Izumida arranges them, varying the window size before capturing the final product on his Mac. The fractured layouts are then turned into prints, and elevates the ubiquitous tool into the realm of fine art. (Via Spoon and Tamago)
Syver Lauritzsen and Eirik Haugen Murvoll set up a paint sculpture that tracks the moods of people in Oslo (where they go to school) through their posts to social media. Each time someone tweets that they are happy, sad, angry, or what have you, a program that Lauritzsen Murvoll created assigns a colour to it. As demonstrated in the video, happy is a pink colour, angriness is black, and a number of other colours are left undefined. Though the project is small in scale, it serves an interesting purpose and leaves a lot of opportunity for further exploration. One imagines what it would look like if there were multiple posts representing different cities. It’s a great way to visualize the information.
Artist Holton Rower, who uses the paint pouring technique to create three-dimensional paintings, inspired the format for Lauritzsen and Murvoll’s project. The men had to go through a few different modes of representation for aesthetic value. They tried having each individual mood tweet release a colour, but also averaged a mood over a period of tweets. According to the artists, latter was more aesthetically appealing because the information was more simple, but the former was evidently a more accurate depiction of how the city was feeling. (Via I Heart My Art and Wired)