Discontinued film stock has become an obsession amongst fine art photographers, and pretty much everyone else (at least the imitation of it even–think instagram filters). New York-based photographer Daniel Zvereff is no exception. In one of his recent series, Introspective, Zvereff uses some of the last remaining supply of expired Kodak Aerochrome film in 120 format and takes it to the Arctic–a place as endangered as the film itself.
A travel journalist and photographer, Zvereff looks for the picturesque and the mundane- a good mixture of the two brings forth an interesting and stunning collection of photographs from all over the world- including the ones found here, which were taken in very remote parts of the Arctic.
The usage of the expired film showcases brilliantly unusual but beautifully colored mountains, graveyards, and highways in the brief, verdant Arctic summer are stained in otherworldly pinks and purples.
The now discontinued Aerochrome, was originally developed for the military to help them detect camouflage from helicopters: It responds the chlorophyll in plants and reverses green colors into lavenders and magentas and browns into deep blues.
“The Arctic will essentially be the next frontier for mining natural resources, and with a warming climate it’s safe to say it will soon be transformed as we know it, forever, It only seemed appropriate to photograph its incredible natural beauty using a film that is no longer in existence.”
Thanks to everyone who stopped by our booth at Pool! If you came by, you’d know that we created a one of a kind collaborative t-shirt with artist Kyle Thomas to give away during the tradeshow. The shirt features a modular stacked metropolis of seemingly endless skyscrapers, with a cloud-font Beautiful Decay floating over the urban density! The shirt was printed by Jakprints. If you managed to score one of these, hang on to it, it’s sure to be a collector’s item one of these days….
We’ve posted David Maisel’s work before. His aerial photographs of open mines depict the colorful transformation of polluted areas. His new project, Library of Dust, catalogues individual copper canisters containing the unclaimed remains of patients from the Oregon State Insane Asylum who died sometime between 1883 and the 1970s. Each canister’s chemical decay is uniquely colorful; the aesthetic resonates with transformation indicated in his aerial photography. “Among my concerns with Library of Dust are the crises of representation that derive from attempts to index or archive the evidence of trauma; the uncanny ability of objects to portray such trauma; and the revelatory possibilities inherent in images of such traumatic disturbances. While there are certainly physical and chemical explanations for the ways these canisters have transformed over time, the canisters also encourage us to consider what happens to our own bodies when we die, and to the souls that occupy them.”
Eminent scholar, artist, and human being Kristin Farr recently gave the world an awesome gift in the release of her new app, #FarrOut. Neon rainbow laser beams from another dimension are what Kristin’s artwork is all about, and now you can mess around with her magical paintings for free! Add them to your photos or create brand new compositions using funny animals, rainbow diamonds, and super magical energy! #FarrOut is guaranteed to make you happy and bring you good luck. As the summer really hits its stride, we can now take part in a process heretofore only available to the artist herself. Definitely a good omen for the season.
“Global Street Food” is a show which is currently running at the Vitra Design Museum in Germany. The exhibition is made up of actual structures used by street food vendors around the world. It was curated by German art director Mike Meiré, who writes that it “is dedicated to the fascination with improvised kitchens in public places; urban fast food stations navigating the contrast between pragmatic dilettantism and complexity in the smallest of spaces.”
Jansson Stegner’s work could easily have turned into your typical figurative work but the strange elongation of the figures gives the work a bizarre psychological twist. It’s kind of a mix between Balthus and John Currin.
Aidan Koch, a comics writer and illustrator who’s previously been featured on Beautiful/Decay, has started a new blog entitled Field Studies to help fund an extended period of traveling. Koch, who hails from Portland, Oregon, is drawing intriguing sights she encounters during her travels – often depicting local flora, or a recurring pup named Edie – and selling each original piece for $20 through PayPal. The payments go back into Koch’s travels, thus generating even more field studies.
The studies themselves manage to come off as both timeless observations and, with the focus on plants, for instance, articulations of the zeitgeist. They are austere without being restrained and composed without being constrained. Most usefully, they serve as visual inlets to her larger body of artwork. For those not already familiar with Koch’s comics and styles of drawing, a good place to start is her comic book The Whale published by Gaze Books.
As part of her season of traveling, Koch will be the artist-in-residence at Skylab Gallery in Columbus, Ohio, during the month of June. As there is a lot of America in-between Portland and Columbus, I suggest checking out Koch’s drawings that are after the jump, then finding one that suits your daily décor needs on her site.
Since 1999, Brazilian artist Herbert Baglione has been populating the cracked walls and floors of forgotten places with shadowy, painted specters, which are characterized by their elongated limbs and emaciated, sinuous bodies. As the years have passed, his ghostly installations have emerged in dark corners all over the world, including Brazil, Germany, and France. In July 2013, Baglione found what might be his most eerie location to date: an abandoned psychiatric hospital in Parma, Italy. Down the building’s moldering, littered corridors, the artist’s ghosts aimlessly trail their wispy bodies up the walls and through open doors. At this time, the ongoing project was officially named 1000 Shadows. Describing his creative approach to forgotten places and their inhabiting spirits, Baglione has explained that “The ‘reading’ of these places allows [him] to take the shadow to a unique path, which usually feeds and broadens the discussion because it brings light to the abandoned environment […]. It is as if the soul is leaving an invisible trail on these places” (Source).
What makes Baglione’s work so simultaneously fascinating and unsettling for the psyche is that it plays with the dichotomy of presence and absence — two states of being that we often assume are fundamentally separate. By creating these shadows, not only has Baglione left his physical “mark” (his presence) for passersby to ponder (who was here? And what does it mean?), but he reminds us that other people were there long before us, and perhaps their energy still remains, making absence a form of presence. We feel drawn to these sad specters, and perhaps a bit frightened; they are traces of a persisting darkness that inspire us, emotionally and imaginatively, to close the gap in time. The wheelchair deserted in the hallway with its accompanying ghost is a particularly visceral referent for this troubling of past and present life.
Visit Baglione’s blog, Facebook page, and Instagram and follow him as he continues to occupy our imaginations and the world’s forgotten places with his signature shadows. (Via Bored Panda)