Canadian artist Andrew Lamb has been making updates to your average “neighborhood watch” signs, taking them from innocuous to noticeable. He does it with the help of some memorable television, movie, and video game characters.
If you’re unfamiliar with the concept of neighborhood watch signs, let me give you a brief explanation. They are traffic-sign-sized warnings to potential criminals that the residents of a certain area are vigilant and won’t let them get away with any funny business. Of course, they’ve been around forever, and the often-dated looking designs are now just apart of the landscape, meaning that no one probably pays attention to them.
Lamb’s wheat-pasted edits to these signs grab your attention, and are an amusing way to reinvigorate something that’s probably run its course. Bruce Willis, Buffy the Vampier Slayer, Mulder and Scully, and even Sailor Moon are all featured in these updates. So have no fear, because the Power Rangers are keeping an eye out. (Via 22 Words)
Michael Beitz’s sculptures take everyday ideas and turn them on their head. Dining Table (pictured above) is a great example of how a simple object can be transformed into a sculpture full of character and commentary on interpersonal relationships. Make sure to also check out his sculptural street art work after the jump.
Three months ago we approached long time B/D contributor Kyle Thomas to hand draw every single copy (1,500 total) of Beautiful/Decay’s Book: 1. Much to our surprise, Kyle quickly agreed and simply said “Bring it on!”
Last night at 6pm, we received the shipment of books and Kyle began the monumental task of creating 1,500 distinct works of art. The video above documents his stream of conscious supernatural drawing style. He’s currently holed up in the Beautiful/Decay offices drawing non stop during the whole work day! Based on his current pace he will complete all the covers by Tuesday July 14th, which is also the cut off date to reserve your copy. So make sure to subscribe today to ensure you get a copy of this one of a kind book.
For photographer Ellie Davies, the forest is her studio. Her images are an immersive mix of realism and heightened fantasy. In a mossy clearing, for example, galaxies have been interposed with the landscape like clouds of will-o’-the-wisps, while elsewhere, stars resembling flaxen particles drift down in a column, illuminated by the sunlight. Her landscapes are not only places of mysticism and beauty, but of darkness, as well. Fog and clouds drift amongst the trees like ghostly breaths expelled from the twisted, bronchiole-like branches. In one particularly haunting photo from Between the Trees Triptych (2014), skeletal trees flank a spectral cluster of mist.
Whether glowing bright or cast in shadow, all of Davies’ images reveal a reverence for the forest, as well as her intimate understanding of the way such landscapes have manifested themselves in our cultural imaginations. As she writes in her Artist’s Statement:
“UK forests have been shaped by human processes over thousands of years. […] As such, the forest represents the confluence of nature and culture, of natural landscape and human activity. Forests are potent symbols in folklore, fairy tale and myth, places of enchantment and magic as well as of danger and mystery. In recent cultural history they have come to be associated with psychological states relating to the unconscious.”
And it is true; all of these cultural legends, practices, and traditions have made the forest — indeed, “nature,” as a concept — a construction, a story we tell ourselves to try and understand our individual connection with it. We imagine the woods as a symbolic place of “elsewhere” and “otherness,” and this cognitive distancing allows us to romanticize it, fear it, and/or exploit it.
Davies wants to confront us with these fictions “by making a variety of temporary and non-invasive interventions in the forest, which place the viewer in the gap between reality and fantasy” (Source). She creates her scenes in what she calls “small acts of engagement [that] respond to the landscape” — she builds things, creates pools of light, incorporates craft materials such as paint and wool. As I read it, the images have several effects. They resonate with our fantasies about the forest, but at the same time, we recognize their construction, which helps us to perceive that our cultural relationships to the forests of the real world are also constructed. In unveiling such narratives, Davies’ work encourages a more ethical connection to the woods: we recognize “reality” as a series of stories that have been told to us, we sense that we are not truly separate from what we call “nature,” and we accept that we can never fully understand it — an acknowledgment that fosters both respect and peaceful coexistence.
You’re in luck if you love your face so much so that you wish there was a copy of it. Real F, a Japanese 3D printing company creates one of a kind ultra realistic 3D face masks complete with every blemish, pore, hair, freckle, and scar. No you can have a second copy of that pretty mug of yours or do it up like Nicholas Cage in Face/Off without the messy surgery.
Londoner Petra Storrs is not just a set, prop, and costume/fashion designer– she’s an artist who collaborates with performers to transcend ideas beyond the ephemeral and into a sturdy cult of fantasy. The “reflective mirror dress” she designed for Paloma Faith, for example, not only sharpens the singer’s playful theatrical identity, but further investigates this concept of “the gaze”. In Dazed and Confused Magazine, Faith elaborates on the intention, “Obviously, as a performer, I am normally the observed, but I wanted to flip that dynamic around and make the audience the focus.” Storrs response, of course, was to whip up a garment that literally does just that.
But it’s not just creative camaraderie that gets Storrs’ juices flowing– she also finds inspiration from everyday objects and history, or everyday objects that hold history such as . . . tea. Camellia & the Rabbit, her latest design endeavor (collected here), involves performance artist Rachel Snider, who uses “tea as a central motif/metaphor” and a narrative “like sea shanties” to interweave “historical facts and stories of tea”– thus, evoking our own personal relationship to this British afternoon tradition.