New Media artist Phillip Stearns contrasts two mediums in a way that also conjures unexpected similarities. Stearns has considerable experience with glitches – he’s the author of a Tumblr blog that presented a different glitch screen shot each day. He went on to combine the cold digital spattering of glitches with warm textiles such as blankets and tapestries. The pixels translate strangely well from screen to weave, the glitches not being lost in translation from one medium to the other. Stearns says about his project:
“The Glitch Textiles project was started in 2011 with the goal of exploring the intersections of textiles and digital art. The idea was simple: Transcode glitches in the cold, hard logic of digital circuits into soft, warm textiles. Following a successful funding campaign on Kickstarter in 2012, Glitch Textiles has grown to include a range of woven and knit wall hangings and blankets whose patterns are generated using images taken with short circuited cameras and other unorthodox digital techniques, including data visualization aided by the use of tools developed for digital forensics.”
The work of Nicola Samori depicts dying corpses and mysterious portraits scraped, scratched and torn on the surface, unveiling layers of contrasting paint. Dark and intense paintings, covering layers of existing work, like flesh covering the accumulation of past experiences and traumas. The artist chooses to damage his previous paintings on purpose. He feeds the canvas, daily; until the texture becomes ’intense and palpable’. Using his fingers or a knife to destroy the apparent layer, the result of what feels like a painful process is a magnificent harmonized agony. By scraping his paintings, Nicola Samori tries to search for true identity. A person’s face on a painting is not a valid representation of who this person really is. It doesn’t give a true essence of its inner personality and soul. Exploring what’s underneath the surface is the purpose of the artist.
Body, death and painting are, for Nicola Samori, subjects of obsession. By punishing the three altogether on the canvas, he opens the wound and sets himself free. His layered macabre creations are the structure for his catharsis (act or process of releasing a strong emotion into an art form or any extreme change in emotion that results in renewal and restoration). Apart from the fact that the artist doesn’t fancy working with colors, according to him; the source of darkness does not reflect a state or a belonging; what is made from it is what’s interesting. A rough process symbolizing metamorphosis of deep emotions into meaningful and empowering art pieces
I first saw Retro Stefson perform back in 2009 at an off-venue Iceland Airwaves party at a downtown clothing store in Reykjavik. The name of the store escapes me, but not the lasting impression this young band had on me. People were going crazy for this band I had never heard of, so I immediately bought their CD and followed them around wherever they played. Three years later, I’m about to head back to Iceland and low and behold, they have a new record and video out and will most likely be one of the highlights of this years Airwaves festival. I challenge you to not bounce your head up and down while watching the video for their song Glow.
I’m not exactly sure of how I feel about these digital expulsions by the Poster Company. I think my reaction came in 3 stages: first oscillating between questioning the validity of their artfulness, then awe at the convoluted jungle of pixels, then back to confusion again.
Seoul native Eunjeong Yoo is an illustrator who now lives and works in New York City. In addition to Eunjeong’s strong conceptual approach, the quality I admire most in her work is her use of color; its placement has a haphazard feel and her palette choices both emphasize the narratives and instill a sense of in-the-moment movement.
Ronit Baranga is an Israeli artist known for her bizarre sculptural works, which include a series of ceramic tablewares hybridized with human body parts: open mouths, protruding tongues, and gouging fingers. These strange, anatomical additions are incredibly detailed, so much so you can make out the the glistening taste buds and knuckle creases. While these pieces are both creepy and attention-grabbing, from a critical standpoint, their meaning may seem a bit elusive; our reactions to them are initially visceral. Speaking to this, Baranga writes:
“I would like that anyone who sees my work feels something – what they feel is not relevant to me, as long as they feel. I hope that the emerging feelings will cause the viewers to think about the ideas behind my work… The combination of ceramic cups with ceramic fingers represent an idea in which the still creates a will of its own, enabling a cup to decide whether to stay or leave the situation it is in.” (Source)
Baranga’s designs, then, grant inanimate objects a form of agency: the plates desire to eat, the finger-walking teacups seek to wander, and their self-awareness challenges the way we think about and interact with such objects. What they also explore is the way eros is incorporated into unexpected things. The parted lips and probing fingers — both of which are erogenous body parts used in sexual exploration — elicit erotic associations. However, there is also an element of revulsion: imagine a stranger’s hands digging through your food, recognize that the hungry mouths emerging on your plate are the receptacles for the unglamorous digestive process. Baranga’s works may arouse you, but they will also suppress your appetite.
Check out Baranga’s website for more of her fascinating sculptural works. (Via Juxtapoz)
Brooke Shaden places herself within worlds she wishes we could live in, where secrets float out in the open, where the impossible becomes possible. Brooke’s photography questions the definition of what it means to be alive.