Jason Dussault is a Vancouver- and New York-based artist who uses the ancient medium of mosaics to recreate iconic images, many of which you will probably recall from your childhood. Among the shattered and beautifully arranged pieces — largely composed of ceramic, paint, grout, and resin — are the familiar visages of Batman, Thor, and the Hulk. Also depicted are important religious figures, including the Buddha and Jesus, as well as images of personal significance to Dussault; the hellhound “Fido,” for example, is a visualization of his inner, artistic strength. His masterful blending of colours and shapes create dimensional, intricate images that inspire both excitement and nostalgia.
In all of these works, Dussault has used the fractured and geometric power of the mosaic to manifest an “internal struggle,” a resistance against a world wherein magic has been stripped away by the realities of adulthood. By recreating memory-infused imagery from broken shards, Dussault’s craft serves as an active reclamation of “the magic, excitement, and hopefulness that stimulated his youth” (Source). Memory — and everything else that composes our emotional and physical lives — is fragile, but as Dussault shows us, it is never too late to recompose that which we think is broken or lost.
Dussault’s work is currently being featured in an exhibition entitled Deconstructive / Constructive at the Hoerle-Guggenheim Gallery in New York, which is running until April 2, 2015. Visit his website for more examples of his work.
Dara Scully is a Spanish writer and photographer who captures dark, poetic scenes verging on fairy tale and myth. Nude figures inhabit the faded forests. Esoteric rituals transpire on quiet leaf beds. Death is present in the form of insects, prone bodies, and bleeding wounds, and rebirth occurs as birds escape their abandoned cages. As beautiful and graceful as Scully’s images is her creative biography, which reveals her sylvan, literary essence:
“Forest creature, winter girl. I like birches and aspen leaves. In my other life, I was a white deer, a fox, or a swallow. I’ve never flown. I drink milk tea and my favorite word is chrysalis. My heart belongs to Chopin and my body to the horses, but I’ve never ridden any. I read Jaeggy, Nabokov, Duras, and Müller. I read because it saves me. […] If I have to choose a sound, I’d say: the wind shaking the branches of the trees. Or rain. I always wear dresses and man shoes. I [have] written since I was thirteen. I’m afraid of moths. I have six moles in my pale chest.” (Source)
The power of conceptual photographers like Scully lies in the ability to tell stories in a single frame. Just as she encapsulates an entire sensorial experience in the above paragraph, each photo is a compressed narrative overflowing with hidden meaning and an emotional presence—the innocence of youth, the pain of growing, the sorrow of death. Blending reality with fiction, Scully employs subtly powerful symbols—such as the dead birds—to speak their meaning. Deeply subjective, her ambiguous scenes allow the viewer to instill their own significance.
Here’s some of artist Charles Clary‘s new pieces, some of which can be seen in at the Diana Lowenstein Fine Art Gallery in Miami Florida.
Hand cut piece of paper on panel with acrylic makes you appreciate clearly how much time, effort, and passion Charles has for his work.
In a way, endlessness is a fundamental characteristic of gifs. However, the work of Turkish artist Erdal Inci, highlights this aspect of a medium in a style that is especially hypnotic and creepy. Inci has worked in video for nearly ten years. He’s since translated work into gifs using his same clone and light effects. In them, he seems to produce an endless hoodied army of himself marching, sliding down handrails, hopping up and down stairs. Though the action is brief, its repetitive nature makes it difficult to pull away your eyes. All of the Erdal Inci clones in lockstep trudge on together until we manage to close the window. [via]
The work of Karim Hamid, as the artist states is “interested in the process by which the female figure is objectified by the archetypal male gaze.” The naked figures are mutilated and leveled to one plane with the background making the main objects in the paintings create tension since they’re all sharing one dimension. The subtle muted colors, and the rough painting manner combined with bedrooms as backdrops, portray an indication of the women’s figure objectification throughout history, as well as today’s media insatiable need of it.
Portland based, Corey Arnold, has taken some truly amazing documentary style photos of the honest accounts of what it means to be a fisherman at sea. Corey’s photos are endearing telling stories of grueling and gritty conditions of the life of a fisherman tackling themes of isolation, courage, absurdity, and fortitude. Corey is a fisherman himself, and has been taking astonishing real account photos as long as he has been fishing. It is important to note that what makes Arnold’s photos so true and honest is the fact that he is actually a fisherman, just one of the guys out at sea, and has to earn his mate’s trust and pitch in like the rest bearing the harsh conditions of the day but still finding the nerve to grab his camera in opportune times. In the summer Corey captains a wild salmon fishing boat in Bristol Bay, Alaska. Arnold has exhibited his show “Fish-Work”: The Bering Sea earlier in 2012 and has published a book titled ‘The Bering Sea.’ (via)
Another riveting documentary from my files. If any of you hope to have a genius artist baby in the future you’ll want to watch this doc.
My Kid Could Paint That is a 2007 documentary film by director Amir Bar-Lev (who also directed 2000’s Fighter). The movie follows the early artistic career of Marla Olmstead, a young girl from Binghamton, NY who gains fame first as a child prodigy painter of abstract art, and then becomes the subject of controversy concerning whether she truly completed the paintings herself or did so with her parents’ assistance and/or direction. The film was bought by Sony Pictures Classics in 2007 after premiering at the Sundance Film Festival. Marla’s father, an amateur painter, describes how Marla watches him paint, wants to help, and is given her own canvas and supplies.