The incredibly improvisational Los Angeles-based duo, The Clayton Brothers (aka: Rob and Christian Clayton,) create autobiographical and narrative pieces of work through an intuitive process. One brother will start a painting, pass it on to the other to work on, and go back and forth until the painting comes to a finish. What I genuinely enjoy about their work is that though they work in sync through a shared childhood, they don’t try to recreate it. They look into their world as the adults they are now, which is what I feel makes their work so dynamic.
Los Angeles-based artist Pae White merges art, design, craft and architecture through site specific installations and individual works which defy our expectations of a variety of techniques and media. For her South London Gallery exhibition she creates a mesmerising installation in which vast quantities of coloured yarn span and criss-cross the room to create supergraphics spelling out words that can only be deciphered by navigating the space. Inspired by a period of insomnia and consequent reflection on the transience of our existence, the letters and words emerge and dissolve depending on both our physical relationship to them and the relative weight of the overall aesthetic experience. (via)
Design studio POGO, based in Argentina and makes beautifully slick commercial work, was commissioned by MTV to re-create the identity of the MTV 16 and Pregnant (don’t think I need to explain what this show’s about…) in collaboration with MTV World Design Studio Buenos Aires. I’m not certain how I feel about the new image for this show, it’s a mixture of fear, disgust, and hilarity. And being generally torn about the direction of my moral compass. I don’t know, what do you guys think?
Standing like a miniaturized skeleton city, American artist Ben Butler has installed an epic geometric sculpture that seems to distort any sense of space. The installation, titled Unbounded, is a site-specific piece for Rice Gallery in Houston, Texas. The work is made up of ten thousand small rods of poplar wood. Through the creation of complex grids, the artist and a team put together this epic structure, building section by section, almost like a block building meditation. The artist notes that Unbounded “alludes to the notion that its form has no defined boundary, that is it untamed and fills the space according to its own logic.” Butler’s work, which is not solely sculptural but also delves into printmaking and draughtsmanship, consistently refers and reflects on the notion of mass. Each work is intricate, meticulous, but perhaps, most importantly, explores a sort of metaphysical notion of space. Delicate, yet powerful in scale, his work tends to use elements of the earth. The combination of the power of size and the natural material — which acts as a connection to the earth — allows his work to truly carry an awe inspiring essence. Almost like an Agnes Martin notion of finding these quiet patterns within nature meets the raw power of element and structure like the work of Richard Serra. Profound, with a nod to a notion of fun and simplicity, Butler’s installation truly plays with perception. (via IGNANT)
New York based artist, Denise Kupferschmidt’s work is simple and striking, Kupferschmidt’s dyed and cut pieces make me appreciate how versatile paper can be. I’m a big fan of the national geographic / space imagery. It pairs well with the symmetrical cut and paste patterns.
Nowadays, it’s not uncommon to see people with copious amounts of tattoos on their arms, legs, and head. But, it wasn’t that long ago that these permanent adornments were only found on a very specific group of people – prisoners. Tattoos back then were markedly different than their modern counterparts, and some were preserved for posterity in formaldehyde. The tiny pieces of history are an eerie but a fascinating look at the past.
The designs of early tattooing were much simpler than they are today. Instead of the needles we’re familiar with, prisoners would use crude tools like razor blades, broken glass, paper clips, or wires. Ink was substituted for pencil refills, charcoal, watercolor paints, or crayons and mixed with water, fat, or urine.
At the beginning of the 20th century, a study of the prisoners’ tattoos began in the Department of Forensic Medicine at Jagiellonian University, and researchers wanted a way to document their findings. While photography might have been the simpler (and more obvious) solution, prisoners’ tattooed skin was removed and preserved.
The extractions, encased in glass, are small curiosities that don’t really look like tattoos at all. Removed from the context of the body, they are symbols for crimes like burglary, rape, and prostitution. (Via Scribol)
Artist/illustrator Jason Asato of Honolulu, took a break from digital media to sketch up these grim pencil drawings. Their vacant and focused, eerie stairs feel calm and sincere – they’re sad but hey, it’s alright…they’re okay with that.