The street art of Sergio Gómez brings the latest in abstract art and graphic design to urban walls. Unlike much complex and text heavy street art, Gomez’ work primarily relies on primary colors and simple geometric forms. He seems to borrow as much from art styles such as Suprematism as he does from principles of graphic design. Gomez’ street art even seems to express a similar tendency to some the most exciting new abstract painters often referred to as the New Casualists. The murals seem to acknowledge street art conventions but mischievously not deliver. His work is subversive in reclaiming public space while undermining expectations.
Martin Eder is a German artist based in Berlin, whose nightmarish and perverse paintings abound with contradicting romantic cliches and infantile desires; his work displays lolitas in pornographic poses that are montaged with skycaps, warm bedroom interiors, and saccharine, girly kitsch that includes oversized crying kittens, giant candy, songbirds, fluffy poodles, puffy clouds, and cuddly white bunnies. Eder works exclusively from photographic references, making full use of high contrast and flat shadows and edging subjects with cyan and magenta. His paintings look imperfect and rushed in places, as if he works on his paintings only until they seem convincingly realistic enough. This slightly unpolished quality facilitates the paintings’ exploitative, creepy aesthetic and especially affects his female subjects, making them feel nondescript; the consequences of this purposeful lack of care in turn references the faceless and aggregative nature of pornography. A recurrent aura of seediness and the slightly distorted proportions of Eder’s subjects are reminiscent of the work of German Expressionist Otto Dix, although the anonymity of Eder’s subjects is a theme not reflected in those of Dix.
David Thompson, the artist behind Monsieur Cabinet is hilarious. His quirky and sometimes shocking sense of humor is paired well with his simple and almost childlike illustrations. Thompson is a master of visual humor.
Rachel Whiteread’s architectural installations are recognizable objects made with unexpected materials. A door made of resin that appears translucent pink, or a black mattress that looks like the leftover coals of a fire help to reconsider the objects possibilities and meanings. The mattresses say two very different things in white and black, made obvious also by the way the two are installed and documented. One lying flat in the middle of a decaying room appears totally dejected and quite violent. The white mattress is propped up against a wall, giving it a lighter look, as well as the actual condition of the room being more clean and the lighting more forgiving.
More epic in proportion is her “Water Tower” (1998) that is atop the Museum of Modern Art in New York, or her installation at Trafalgar square, “Monument” (2001) where she recreated, and placed the plinth upside down on itself. Presumably the water-tower is not able to function as such, and the plinth on top of a plinth is funny as well. Both are made of completely clear material, so they’re there but not. It’s a creative way to toy with materials and the viewers expectation and reaction to them, especially in object used in a practical sense, or ones with which we are well acquainted.
Interesting take on the female form from Floti. Grainy neon colors flow through the figures as though you were looking at them through an infrared camera (except with more interesting color variation). With a glitchy, electronic vibe, these digital works nicely illustrate some of the darker, more ambiguous aspects of the Digital Age. I don’t want to say too much about this project, which seems to be in its infancy, but the source images are altered so heavily that it’s hard to contextualize all of the pictures, which allows for a nice exercise in attaching one’s own narratives and ideas to the works. Hope to see more of these mysterious ladies in the future. (via)