Tomorrow night Guerrero Gallery opens their 7th show with a solo presentation of long time BD favorite Aaron Noble, and a project space offering from tinkerer of texts, Greg Lamarche. More images and proper info below.
Amy Douglas is an English artist who restores old Staffordshire figures into eccentric recreations. Staffordshire figures were found throughout British homes in the 19th century, often bought at county fairs and collected as “toys” for the mantelpiece. When they arrive to Douglas—broken and eroded away by time—she modernizes the pieces by adding touches of present-day quips and scenarios. Each one has been given a title that makes them humorously unique; for example, “I Lost My Head” depicts a beheaded man joyously swinging a wreath decorated with various craniums; “Chicks Rule” features a chicken-headed figure riding a horse with a human face.
The humor of Douglas’ work is often subtle, fostered in the cultural disparity between past and present. Part of the fun is also tricking the viewer into believing they are seeing a bizarre original work. Douglas works with the destroyed objects to seamlessly blend modern relevance with a traditional, domestic art object. “Many of the techniques, materials, and recipes I use have been in the hands of the craftsman for centuries,” she writes on her About page. “In our more increasing, intangible, fleeting, [and] modern existence, I think people do not look properly and do not acknowledge the craftsmanship of work. I like the idea of making people look twice” (Source).
Douglas’ works are currently on display in a solo show titled The Art of Salmagundi at the Jack Hanley Gallery in New York. The show runs until February 7th. You can learn more about Douglas’ work on her website. (Via The Creators Project)
Death becomes us all eventually, as we are exploring in the works covered in this two part article. In light of the Halloween season, and the historical implications of death of this season, we are highlighting artists who create work that addresses or is informed by death and dying. Part 1 included and discussed the works of Damien Hirst, Doris Salcedo, Angelo Filomeno, Konrad Smolenski and Joel Peter Witkin. Here we examine the work of Andres Serrano, Berlinde De Bruyckere, Tereza Zelenkova and Oskar Dawicki.
Andres Serrano has built a reputation creating imagery that is shocking and confronts the viewer with heavy content, unapologetically. His series on death takes this to the next level. Each image, a close-up intimate composition of the deceased subject, is titled according to the cause of death. The Death Series functions as a mirror of our own mortality, delivered rawly and beautifully in rich colors and blank stares.
The work of Berlinde De Bruyckere is rough and organic, abstractly anatomical and animalistic in delivery. The artist’s sculptural work emanates a quality that lies somewhere between a murder scene and a meat locker. De Bruyckere’s pieces have a realistic quality of flesh torn apart yet are executed with fairly common artistic materials such as wax, wood, iron, cotton and wool is captivating.
Tereza Zelenkova created a series entitled Supreme Vice during a journey through the deserts of the Southwest. Captured in the bleakest and most barren of environments, Zelenkova’s photographic works meditate on death through a poetic narrative that seems to address a spiritual continuum that overlaps life and death and creates a bridge between the two polarities. The black and white series, that spans grey areas of mortality, is bound in a book, also entitled Supreme Vice.
The obituary series by Oskar Dawicki which was first exhibited in 2004 in a show aptly titled “The end of the world by accident” is far more ironic than the previously mentioned works. The photographic works capture collages Dawicki assembled of actual obituaries he discovered in the newspaper. The names of the deceased in the images appear to be celebrities and other famous figures at first glance. The works toy with the spectrum of perception of significance in the value of human life and death.
Freelance illustrative designer Andrea Berretta has a great collection of posters and designs with creative hand drawn typography.
London based Dines is a graphic, type and interactive mono-named designer. Whether his designs are destined for commercial industry or for more personal musings, his bright, active voice rings loud, yet harmonious, through each project- a stamp of his personal design style. You can catch up with his freshest work and news via his blog.
Michael Mapes Boxed collages house thousands of individual specimens consisting of dissected photographs and biographical DNA in the form of such things as hair, finger nails, scent, eye lashes, fingerprints, food, botanical elements, fabric swatches, makeup, dirt, handwriting samples and breath. The human specimens reflect the artist’s interest in the role of creative science as lab threatens to supplant studio in his own work. Representations of the specimen are dissected and then reconstructed through artistic interpretation invoking entomological, forensic and artistic methods. (via)
I like these digital collage works from British artist Hayley Warnham. Solid, bright color meets vintage 1940’s, 50’s, and 60’s personal photography in the pictures, which capture a nostalgic, innocent vibe. The use of flat color with found photography evokes the work of legendary American artist John Baldesarri. We wonder if he was a direct influence on Warnham. A lot of these are composed in such away that suggests the vantage point of a youngster, which reminds you of a time when things were much simpler. When skylines and relatives may as well have been flat blocks of color with very little texture as far as you were concerned. You didn’t yet grasp the complexities of every person and setting in your life, and everything was a mysterious wall of impenetrable brightness. (via)
What artist Francesco Spampinato lacks in interweb presence, he makes up for on his canvas. Francesco feeds us a kaleidoscope explosion of psychedelic decorations that pulsates in waves from the focal point of the canvas-to the deepest center of the viewer’s brain.