Midwestern artist Dave Rowe creates sculptures of time worn structures influenced by American landscapes. His work has developed through a means to “explore history,” as he believes that addressing the change and aging of a landscape reflects not only the passage of time, but also has psychological implications about those who inhabited that change. Memories, ideologies, and personal histories are shaped by one’s surroundings. Therefore, a landscape can serve as a reflection of a collective “personal” experience. By capturing one specific physical moment, the artist allows himself to reflect not a universal or personal truth, but instead, acts as a sort of mirroring of a hyper-specific type of development. The artist re-creates recognizable, yet unspecific buildings that allude to an archival, physical space. His sculptures, focusing on geometrical infrastructures, have been shaped by his own upbringing in the American Midwest and have been influenced by the changes in the American landscape. Specifically, his work focusses on the more rural areas, as the relocation of factories have dissolved the need for industrial buildings. He captures how functionality, or rather, a lack of it, can act as a record of topographical transformation. Even his use of color is a reference to time; he pairs “barn red or tar black” along with “brighter colors evocative of graffiti,” in order to reflect the often seen palette of a forgotten edifice. Rowe creates these structures scaled to hit at eye level, allowing the viewer to enter the space emotionally, and hopes to open a discourse for personal reflection.
Artist Gina Ruggeri skillfully plays with perspective and spatial illusion. Her work often takes the form of painted Mylar cutouts employing trope-l’oeil techniques. Natural objects such as logs, stones, and smoke seem to float off the wall and into the gallery space. In other work the white walls give way to rot, decay, and caverns. Though Ruggeri’s work is eye-catching a definite and clear painting tradition stands out in her work. She frequently forgoes the traditional canvas for plastic film but her composition and techniques is reminiscent of past styles. The background landscapes of Renaissance portraits appear to have outgrown their frames (and conventional physics for that matter) and now unfold directly on the gallery walls.
“Choosing to focus on natural elements that are not commonly appreciated or used for decorative purposes, my artwork is connected to the ‘wildness’ in nature even as it is taming it by the creation of formal patterning.”
Drawing on her background in textile design, Lisa A. Frank creates large-scale “repeating patterns”, “tapestry-like designs”, and “floor to ceiling ‘sections'” from her own nature photography. The artist’s works (some of which are composed of over 100 digital layers) obviously draw on a strong connection to nature and its various trappings: flaura, fauna, etc. Such elements are inherently wild and unpredictable. So Frank’s application of computerized media and pattern work, logical processes very unlike the mysterious mechanisms that govern the natural world, sets up a really interesting dynamic. And, like in the natural environment, there’s a lot going on in these works. The effort really shows and I could spend a long time looking at each one.
Great stuff. Definitely worth a click past the jump to check out more images of the artist’s work, which draws material from all four seasons.
Icebergs, while massive in size, are usually seen in one way – as white objects that stick out of the frigid water. But, in rare situations, they take on a different, more brilliant form. When an iceberg is flipped over, it appears as a gem that cloaks itself in the color of the surrounding water. Interface designer Alex Cornell happened upon this phenomenon last month as he sailed through the Drake Passage to Antarctica. He was able to shoot pictures of the iceberg using his Canon 5D Mark II camera.
“We were lucky to see a massive iceberg flip; when this happens, the color is a surreal, alien blue,” he tells PetaPixel. “They don’t flip often, so it was a pretty rare sight to see. It’s hard to tell scale, but this was an epic iceberg.”
It’s often said that 90% of the iceberg itself is below the surface, and this is the cause of it being topsy-turvy. “It was amazing to see the interior. There were air bubbles and flowing water throughout. It looked like an alien artifact.” (Via 123 Inspiration and PetaPixel)
These images may look like simple abstract paintings, or cut out pieces of cardboard collaged on top of each other, but they are anything but. They are actually a product of one of the most avant-garde photographic processes being used today. Brooklyn artist Liz Nielsen‘s current exhibition Wolf Moon is an eloquent display of a very strange technique. She places different objects and shapes cut from transparent colored gels directly onto photographic paper and exposes them to light resulting in dramatic compositions.
It is a negative process, so that colors are reversed. It has taken many years of dedicated darkroom experimentation to layer the overlapping shapes so that a subtle color results instead of pure white. The resulting unique chromogenic prints in Wolf Moon are singed with red from leaked light in the darkroom and populated by abstract shapes reminiscent of terrestrial and extraterrestrial forms. (Source)
Nielsen’s exhibition has a focus on landscapes, celestial shapes and beautiful phenomena (like electricity and lightning). The subject matter mirrors the strange and wonderful process she uses in developing the images. See more of her unique C-prints at the exhibition – running from Jan 29 – March 8 at Denny Gallery in New York. (Via Pattern Pulp)
New York-based photographer Mario Zanaria started taking pictures when he was 12 years old and hasn’t stopped since. His work focuses on people, and his series Pianosequenza “a[n] homage to the contact sheet.” In it, one single image is composed over the course of one of these sheets. It’s fractured but coherent, and each assemblage reveals an alluring scene. Pianosequenza is an Italian word in cinema that translates to “long take” in English. “The idea,” Zanaria writes, “is to turn a part of a movie in one only single take, without cuts or re-plays of a scene. If everything is good in the scene than it can be taken, otherwise it will have to be taken again from the beginning.” He’s fascinated by the contact sheet, and says:
I like how they can tell stories that most often only the photographer knows. They have a very interesting double identity: an intimate relationship with the photographer, in which they are fundamental in the process of choosing the pictures that will survive the editing process, and a nearly non existent one with the public who will see the photographer work mostly only after the selection has taken place.
Zanaria’s series allow the contact sheets to be “the main and essential actor.” Without them, the image is not complete. (Via Blu)
Beautiful dark photographs by Maria Datsykova.