Katie Sims, born in 1988, is an emerging British artist gaining strong momentum in the art world– receiving the Jerwood Drawing Award and Richard Ford Award, Residency at the Museo del Prado, Madrid.
According to Pryle Behrman, Sims paintings “pay homage to masterpieces by Mantegna and Poussin, but deconstruct their studied, graceful air through the organic fluidity of her brushwork and the incongruous addition of geometric shapes that further undermine the compositional structure of her source images.”
Additionally, and on a purely guttural level, each piece is paradoxically busy in a faint and strange minimal manner that is truly difficult to execute with a certain consistent visual ease.
Do you know what kind of trash you accumulate over the course of a single week? For California-based photographer Gregg Segal, this question comes with a loaded context: there’s the irrefutable issue of Americans producing more trash than nearly any other country, as well as the large-scale ramifications producing so much waste has on the environment. In his new ongoing series, ‘7 Days of Garbage,’ Segal recruited friends, neighbors, and other acquaintances to compile a week’s worth of their personal garbage and allow him to photograph them lying in it. The photos are provocative, with Segal crafting beaches, bodies of water, and other natural settings to place emphasis on the garbage his participants were willing to bring to him. “Of course, there were some people who edited their stuff. I said, ‘Is this really it?’ I think they didn’t want to include really foul stuff so it was just packaging stuff without the foul garbage. Other people didn’t edit and there were some nasty things that made for a stronger image.”
Segal aimed to include people from different socioeconomic backgrounds, providing for a fascinating display of different kinds of trash. By shooting from an overhead angle, garbage strewn between created natural environments, Segal crafts startlingly personal portraits that are oddly still detached, conveying a more poignant message lying underneath. “Obviously, the series is guiding people toward a confrontation with the excess that’s part of their lives. I’m hoping they recognize a lot of the garbage they produce is unnecessary,” he said. “It’s not necessarily their fault. We’re just cogs in a machine and you’re not culpable really but at the same time you are because you’re not doing anything, you’re not making any effort. There are some little steps you can take to lessen the amount of waste you produce.” (via Slate)
Sculptures of the artist. By himself. Made from his own body. Marc Quinn creates self-portraits with his blood. Every five years he makes a fresh one. Keeping track of his aging throughout the years. The process can appear gory and frightening but it is as close to reality as a portrait can be.
He repeats the operation by making a plaster mold of his face and by going to the doctor to get his blood drawn. The equivalent of a pint is drawn every week (not at once). The blood is injected into the molded face and preserved in a frozen environment. It could not sustain another way. The first realization that blood is actually sitting in front of us can be disgusting and intolerable. It’s really the process that is intimidating. Once it’s understood then the concept behind this idea can be perceived, analyzed and accepted.
Marc Quinn’s intention is not only to make an organic piece but to keep it alive. By manipulating the scientific world to obtain what he wants he opens a new angle. He is redefining the limits in terms of means of expression. Ice and blood in that case coming from the same person making his auto-portrait dematerialize the notion of infinity. There’s also a melancholic feeling. When an artist depicts a self-portrait, the tone is usually neutral or positive. Considering that Marc Quinn chooses to represent himself as a volume of blood interrogates on what are the real motivations behind such a work and the artist’s inner self-regard. (via Ignant)
New York based fashion photographer, Dominik Tarabanski, creates surreal editorial photographs that evolve around the notion of a ‘modern human’–minimal and sophisticated yet weird and edgy. Think of it like this: a mix between the early surreal photographs of May Ray and Lady Gaga’s outrageous closet and styling.
My interest and inspirations evolve around the modern human, photography is always the ultimate form of reflection. I hope that my visual sensibility will one day lead to a simple, pure and perfect organic form. I want to talk about the phenomenon of fashion in my own conceptual way, which leads to a smooth transition into the art domain. – Tarabanski
Chad Hagen, of Minneapolis, MN, makes pleasant pieces of art that would fit wonderfully in our (new!) offices. Maybe we should order a print or two. We love his use of black and… off-white, while also mastering the use of color in other works. We were attracted to his “Historically Fragmented” series, only to be delighted in the other series he had to offer. Also check out his Flickr, as he’s trying to make something cool every day.
In 1850, Walter Potter was 15 years old when he first began experimenting with taxidermy. By the age of 19, Potter had already created his best-known taxidermy tableaux, “The Death and Burial of Cock Robin” which was displayed, along with his other work, at a pub his family owned in Bramber, West Sussex. Potter’s taxidermy dioramas feature anthropomorphized animals acting out Victorian life scenes. During the Victorian era, taxidermy was a popular practice, and in 1880, a dedicated museum building was opened because the tableaux at the pub had created quite a scene. Over time, the interest in taxidermy declined, and the museum was moved before closing down.
Though Potter’s dioramas could be considered morbid, especially by modern standards, there’s something Beatrix Potteresque (no relation) about his work, mostly in its strange and whimsical Victorianism. “Kittens’ Wedding” was Potter’s last tableaux before his death in 1890; this piece was auctioned at Bonham’s (along with most of the collection) in 2003 for £21,150 (around $35,500). Among those present at the auction were artists Peter Blake, David Bailey, and Damien Hirst, who reportedly bid £1 million (almost $1.7) for Potter’s entire collection, but it was rejected by the auctioneers. This caused the owners of the collection to sue Bonham’s because they believed such an offer should have been immediately accepted in order to keep the collection in tact. In 2007, Hirst told The Guardian that “Kittens’ Wedding” was one of his favorites of Potter’s work: “All these kittens dressed up in costumes, even wearing jewellery. The kittens don’t look much like kittens, but that’s not the point.”
The Telegraph notes, “To a modern eye […]these ‘freaks of nature’ appear eerily macabre. Indeed, some Victorian viewers were outraged by the grotesquery and criticised Potter for abuse of animals, despite a museum disclaimer stating that no animals had been deliberately killed for the collection.” But then they later explain that not all of Potter’s tableaux were sourced ethically. Before neutering was commonplace, freely roaming farm kittens would often be killed off. Potter had an agreement with a local farmer who provided the kittens; this would explain the high number of participants in his tableaux.
The accompanying images are sourced from Dr. Pat Morris and Joanna Ebenstein’s book about Potter and his work, “Walter Potter’s Curious World of Taxidermy,” released earlier this year. Ebenstein says that she’s interested in “the context that creates these things, and why certain things come to be seen as bizarre to us, when obviously they weren’t at the time.” (via telegraph)
Illustrator Raphaël Vicenzi, also known as Mydeadpony, combines watercolor, digital media, and typography in the creation of stunning and imaginative portraits. His female characters are a troubling (but fascinating) combination of darkness and light; washed in pastel colours, their seemingly innocent faces and figures are fragmented with images and words, from swords to jerrycans to obscure declarations of “wake up” and “wolves in the house.” These interposing objects cause the sensual apathy of the faces to fall away into a richer complexity.
When I asked Vicenzi about his creative process, he explained that it is very much driven by stream-of-consciousness: “my process is to start working on an illustration even if I am not sure where I am going.” He builds his pieces bit by bit, exploring and discovering them as if they were living entities. And while the results are beautiful and eclectic, Vicenzi admits that his art involves “a constant struggle, battling with myself about this or [that] decision.” However, the results are powerful, multimedia creations. “It’s worth it,” Vicenzi writes. “No pain no gain.”
Mydeadpony’s pieces speak to us with a familiar melancholy, as they explore the underlying nature of our emotional lives; beneath every face is an interplay of longing, pain, desire, anticipation, and nostalgia. The name “Mydeadpony” itself emerged from a photograph the artist found of himself: a child sitting on a white pony. Upon realizing the pony was long dead, this experience made him profoundly aware of the irreversible passage of time, and how we experience transformative loss and change at several points in our lives. This is the emotional, visceral core of Vicenzi’s work; hard to describe, but intensely palpable. Check out his website for a gallery of his pieces.