Atlanta based graphic designer, Stewart Scott-Curran, took on the task of graphically representing one of Pink Floyd’s best albums, The Dark Side of the Moon, track by track, with each poster representing a different song off the album. Personally, as a long time fan of Pink Floyd’s lyrical magic, it is really awesome to see how well Stewart nailed the narrative and emotion these songs carry. I don’t know about you, but I think these could make some good t-shirts. Check out more after the jump!
Katy Krantz makes magical collage/painting hybrids. They bring to mind the French Surrealists’ favorite quote: “beautiful as the chance meeting on a dissecting table of a sewing machine and an umbrella”.*
Through elegantly beautiful works, Vandana Jain uses corporate logos and symbols, to study the effects of institutionalized repression. Her metaphor, an illusory philanthropy implies how corporations subliminally demoralize and enslave cultures. Her depiction manifests most commonly in an architectural setting, and through icons of religious nature including mandalas and totems. These logos are beautifully manipulated by Jain into mesmerizing works, that distract from the symbol’s intended purpose. Mostly working in installation, Jain engages all media in this format including drawing, sewing, painting and video. Her most recent project, “Dazzle” is the result of her residency at Brooklyn’s Smack Mellon. For the project, Jain created a series of murals, inspired by naval camouflage used during world war l. Before sonar, brightly colored lines were painted on warships in various patterns. These were used to confuse the enemy of a ship’s size, speed and direction. Jain applied the same technique to the huge interior walls of Smack Mellon. In colored artist’s tape, her familiar corporate logos are masked behind camouflage, which continues her conversation with the corrupt and exploitive nature of corporate brands. Her training as a textile designer comes through in the pattern making ability needed to make the walls come alive. The dazzling lines recall circus tents and opt art made in the 60’s and 70’s.
Shamus Clisset (aka, Fake Shamus) is a digital artist who uses 3D modeling software to construct bizarre and often humorous scenes that multiply reality and critique consumer culture. His work is featured in Beautiful/Decay’sBook 8: Strange Daze, a curated collection of talented artists who explore the realms of the uncanny: parallel universes, psychedelic dream states, supernatural activity, and more. Also included in the book is the work of Neil Krug, a photographer who drenches his shots in hallucinatory colors, bending time and reality to invoke the nostalgia and liberatory zeal of the 1960s. Andrea Wan, a Berlin-based artist, also brings her own flavor of absurdity to the book in the form of surreal illustrations of masked and multiple-headed beings. Strange Daze is ideal for those art lovers and dreamers who wish to challenge everyday banality by exploring alternative visions of the world.
We featured Clisset’s work in 2011, when he was making insane (and often violent) mashed-up universes of trash and cultural signifiers. Since then, Clisset has rebirthed his artistic identity as “Fake Shamus,” a “digital golem” formed out of 3D-rendered objects (Source). The shapes this humanoid beast can take are limitless; in one image he is a mystical being upholstered in grass who summons a collection of empty beer cans; in another he is an industrious builder, his muscular body made out of what appears to be lumps of brightly-colored Plasticine. And while Clisset’s works may appear to have photographic elements, do not be deceived; everything in his images is created in a digital, 3D space. By mimicking reality, Clisset brings up fascinating questions of “authenticity” versus “fakery,” unveiling in the process that the entire world is a strange construction subject to our perception.
To see our feature on Clisset and similar artists, check out Book 8: Strange Daze. Copies are available at a limited quantity in our shop, so grab yours today.
Laurent Gongora creates interventions in nature, and this is his biggest stunt yet. The artist made 24 metal plates and attached them to the façade of a waterfall, the Cascade de Vaucoux in France, to redirect its flow. The name of the project is Les Cascadeurs, which means stuntman in French, and also references cascades, which can mean waterfall. It looks like a much more majestic plinko (that game in The Price is Right where you drop a chip and try to land it in the $10,000 slot). In a video you can see on Gongora’s website, the power of the waterfall is accentuated by the installations as they waver back and forth under the bombardment of water. Gongora’s aesthetic gives the piece even greater impact, as its simplicity allows you to wonder about the logistics of mounting such a piece.
Another artwork that acts similarly to Les Cascadeurs is Le Diamant Noir, where Gongora places a black diamond in the middle of a forest in Pays de Condé, France. The land is a heritage site which used to be a coal mining bassin, and so the diamond represents the interaction between the natural landscape and the mining enterprise. The black diamond was installed over a tree, but the material is a metal with holes all over. Slowly the tree grows out from under the diamond and will theoretically overtake the structure. It is a balance between nature and human intervention, and Gongora demonstrates that each may have an effect on the other. (Via My Modern Met)
Huma Bhabha is not unlike a medieval alchemist, transmuting discarded materials into works of art—morphing civilization’s dusty detritus into works of stunning beauty. They freely collapse ideological mores, the annals of history, contemporary art, yet transcend concretized fact or fiction. Instead, they resurrect their charred faces, standing as relics from a near distant future, or war-ravaged effigies to a post-apocalyptic past. This practice of temporal and physical shape-shifting seems to be both esoteric and playful at once—Bhabha notes that “turning lead into gold, or at least trying…is more interesting than just using gold.” Her visceral effigies are perhaps best described as “anti-monuments;” her works, in their materiality, do not desire permanence—rather, Bhabha formalizes their very transience through her use of ephemeral, corruptible and humble materials.