Yup. That’s Charles Barkley. Yes, he’s in a space suit. Yes sir, he’s in outerspace with lens flares behind him. Yes ma’am, I know it’s awesome. What’s even more awesome than Charles Barkley in a spacesuit, in space with lens flares? Maybe a video of him in a animated, auto tuned rapping, and going bonkers. Be amazed by the full video after the jump.
A digital arts/new media professor at The University Of Oregon, has found a clever, new way to recycle Styrofoam. He builds gigantic robots out of it. The robots are massive and according to artist Michael Salter, reflects the local streets he sees everyday. It’s not the livelier sections, but the mundane, plain parts which inspire him to create. It’s a bit hard to see the connection to this statement because there is nothing plain or boring about his Styrobots. Perhaps what the artist means is that they embrace quiet, domestic scenes reminiscent of these faceless places, which is true.
Exhibited in about 20 museums to date, the Styrobots can stand 16 inches to 22 feet high. Various displays have shown them upright, sitting, holding hands with a tiny friend, surrounded by a smaller group or headless and torn apart. The standing bots embody characteristics mirroring the lead character in The Iron Giant. For those not familiar, the animated movie centers around a giant war robot who crash lands in a small town and befriends a young boy. The Styrobots have the same gentle giant quality displayed in the movie.
Salter finds his material through donations. Styrofoam is primarily used for packing but can be utilized as pipe insulation and preventing roads from freezing over. The material itself, polystyrene is extremely flammable and carcinogenic. When lit, it has the capacity of releasing 57 different kinds of chemical by-products. (faithistorment)
Hong Kong based Kurt Lam’s site says that he is a fashion illustrator but his portfolio is full of illustrations that reference art nouveau, art deco, japanese scroll painting, and various modes of abstraction that defy traditional fashion illustration tropes and push the boundaries of the genre.
In October 2012, the letters “S.O.S.” were carved into the ground of Western Sahara/Algeria near the Saharaui refugee camp Smara by Santiago Sierra. The graffiti measures 5 km x 1,7 km, which makes it the largest graffiti in the world.
The piece refers to the Saharaui peoples struggle for independence from Moroccan rule in the almost forgotten West Saharan conflict. For 36 years they have lived in makeshift conditions under the provisional arrangement of the refugee camps in the Sahara desert, south east of Tindouf.
We wish there were more images available of this piece but for now you just have the following measurements to help give you the scale of this massive piece of graffiti that can be seen from space. (via)
Scale: 5.000 m X 1.700 m
Lenght/path of outlines: 37.000 m
Marked reference points: Almost 2.000
Font: Arial Narrow
Font size: 6.800.000 pt
Area: 8.500 m2
Latitude: 27.4348919287 degrees
Longitude: -7.9418410842 degrees
AJ Fosik is the mastermind behind these insanely colorful wood sculptures that seem to be part-alien, part-folk tale monster. For some reason, these creatures remind me of a demented “It’s A Small World”–like some of Seth Adelsberger’s work in 3D form.
Ladies & Gentlemen Studio is a two person team with a love for vintage items. Looking at their serving utensils from their Superior Servers collection, their sensibilities are immediately apparent- use classic silhouettes in a new modern way. Their other projects share this clever and endearing quality.
For “Phonies,” the UK photographer Dan Rubin turns celebrity selfies into works of fine art. In his unusual street photographs, the smartphone itself stands in for the face of passersby, projecting the grins of social media-savvy stars like Kim Kardashian, James Franco, and Harry Styles. Rubin’s series is equal parts playful and scathing, capturing the narcissism of celebrity in the 21st century in such a way that highlights the anonymity of the digital age.
Within the medium of street photography, normally characterized by raw and gritty from-the-hip shots, Rubin replaces candid captures with shiny screens projecting perfectly made-up celebrity faces. In these clever doubles, these photographs of photographs, notions of identity are complicated. Our faces, especially in photographs, have the power to betray our innermost selves and to define our perceptions of that self; here, the subject’s visage is shown only to be a reflection of the media we consume. As we are continuously bombarded with social media, how do we shape our egos in relation to the rich and famous?
From images, we derive meaning. Flawlessly inserting the HTC One mini 2 phone into his compositions, the artist creates a hybrid human that is simultaneously a celebrity and just another face in the crowd. As we become more vain and the innocent selfie borders on arrogant self-indulgence, do we stifle our individuality? Here, the realm of social media is ambiguously seen, a powerful force that is both fun and disconcerting. Take a look.
The work of Ryan De La Hoz exists in a very particular world, a world comprised of hauntingly nostalgic paper cut outs and drawings that look like a spooky cartoon reduced to the absolute minimum of expression. Delicate flowers, leaves and skeleton gloves contrast with gaping holes filled with dizzying Op-Art to create a landscape that seems like Tim Burton got together with Henri Matisse to make their own paradise. The works are so simplified they leave it up to viewers to project their own narrative on the scene. We each have our own idea of where each ladder leads, and what is hiding behind those geodes and mounds of slime. The compositions are mysteriously devoid of humans, yet laced with the shadows of human characters. The gloves of skeleton costumes pepper many of his works, as if to signify not only death, but a human representation of death. Another common symbol used by De La Hoz is the ladder, one loaded with symbolism. Ladders leaning into a spiraling abyss, or simply leading to no where, bring to mind the question of where are we going and where have we been. While De La Hoz does have the tendency to appear Halloween-ish, with his frequent use of pointed witches’ hats, cob webs, skeletons and blobby mounds with gaping mouths, the work transcends the threat of kitsch in its minimalism and precision. We are drawn to wonder about the age old truths, about death and what is left behind, and about what is hidden and what is revealed.