Somewhere between sculpture, fashion, and performance art lies the curious work of Daniel Ramosobregón. This Colombian designer’s wearable art takes the form of dismembered components of the human body in a pure white slate. Each piece is created from porcelain casts of the particular body part that it represents. Then, they are attached to gold plated brass metal and appropriately worn almost always directly attached to the body segment it mimics, creating a deeply psychological affect. It is as if each human body section is jumping out of its place into the air only to be confronted by it own body once again. Ramosobregón’s series is titled Outrospection inspired by the philosopher Roman Krznaric, who claims that humans must live towards the outside to truly know themselves. This meaning, experiencing life is how we discover and form our identities. The designer further explains the meaning behind his wearable limbs.
I have appropriated his concept while relating it to out-of-body experiences more commonly known as astral projections, by seeking to represent -in a metaphorical way- the mind being projected inside out of the body as a way of self-expression and representation.
These “out-of-body” experiences are represented in his work as ghostly and unnerving fractions of the body unnaturally detached. The most startling piece is the white, porcelain tongue that is only attached to the subject’s body by part of it being held in his mouth. Ramosobregón’s series Outrospection is a perfectly balanced mix of beautiful craft and amputation. Although the photos of his crisp white and well-designed sculptures appear somewhat unsettling, Ramosobregón’s work is unarguably delicate and stunning.
Jen Mann, a friend from up north in Canada, inspires with her new series “Fera” (Latin origin of feral, we’re interested to learn). Jen paints with grace a harmony between women and wild creatures. Or perhaps this is a common practice in her homeland, but either way, the illustrations are beautiful.
British artist Anthony McCall (born 1946) has a cross-disciplinary practice in which film, sculpture, installation, drawing and performance overlap. McCall was a key figure in the avant-garde London Film-makers Co-operative in the 1970s and his earliest films are documents of outdoor performances that were notable for their minimal use of the elements, most notably fire. After moving to New York in 1973, McCall continued his fire performances and developed his ‘solid light’ film series, conceiving the now-legendary Line Describing a Cone (watch a video of a gallery-goer’s interaction with it), in 1973. These works are simple projections that strikingly emphasise the sculptural qualities of a beam of light. If you want to know more about the light magician, you can read an interview with Anthony by the writers at BOMB Magazine.
Painter David Marc Grant‘s fantastical, somewhat neo-surrealist paintings on panel showcase a sophisticated sense of both color and composition. The layers of each piece seem to prop up the next, leaving plenty of corners and pockets for Grant to explore his interest in small detail and pattern. Although the compositions are mostly abstract collisions of geometric shapes and thick, viscous liquids—the artist positions the work as a mirror for the collapse of contemporary society. Grant’s inclination for abstraction disguises these artistic intentions in an attractive blend of quirkiness and color, leaving the viewer with a candy-coated version of dystopian landcape.
Canadian photographer, Lissy Laricchia, creates the beautifully crafted dreamy world of fairy tale references in all its beauty and horror simply using smart props, location, minimal costume, and digital manipulation.
Tatiana Blass built a human body that leans over the spine of a chair. She built this body out of wax and gave it a spotlight to shine; however, its glow not only illuminated, but also curdled the figure’s shape with heat. Arms broke off and bone emerged. Soon the body itself was only spine.
Spine against spine.
On another day, at another location or time, Blass built another body, a lying down one. The heat was not on the back, but instead rising from below. The body melted and there was no bone. Only a puddle of wax, something similar to where the body began.
The dissolution is the performance, the performer is the object: it moves to mirror our horror, to show its aliveness: our aliveness.
This concept of sculpture as a temporary structure feels relative to Urs Fischer’s own monolithic candlelit figures which also weaken over time. Both generate a sense of narrative that we relate to instantly– feelings of loss or devastation amidst chaos. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Wax to wax. What slips through our fingers: a certain temperature from day to day. We cannot gauge. An inevitable ritual.
The music must come to an end, and it does, especially for Blass’s other installation (video above), as Thiago Curry pounds five easy pieces on the keys, while two men pour melted paraffin into the grand piano.