Artist James Nizam calls photographs documents of ‘light sculptures’. For the series he captures the sun and manipulates it into various ‘structures’. Using precise cuts into the exterior of the house, small mirrors mounted on ball joints, and studying the movement of the summer sun Nazam was able to capture these images. A synthetic fog emphasizes the concentrated beams of light, making them almost palpable like floating fluorescent light bulbs. See photos of Nizam preparing the house after the jump.
Photographer Fong Qi Wei transforms flowers simply by dismantling them. Her series Exploded Flowers captures a variety of flowers picked apart petal by petal then carefully arranged. The meticulously arrayed petals closely resemble mandalas or celestial bodies. Each composition underscores the unbelievable symmetry packed into often small flowers. However, there is also subtle medical atmosphere to the photographs, as if they were autopsied flowers or like pinned butterflies. Her series has garnered her some awards including 2nd place in the International Photography Awards’ Nature category. [via]
Detroit artist Trisha Holt builds performative sculpture from blown-up photographs twisted, masked, or hugged onto live models in everyday settings, then reshoots for a surrealistic effect. This series, titled Love Child, creatively cross-breeds two iconic & artistic souls with one another. The top image, for example, is the offspring of “Charlie White + Katy Grannan“. The second one is of “Man Ray + Francesca Woodman”. Both are titled so accordingly. Can you see the resemblance?
Holt’s work is a stunning collection of mash-ups which humorously and humbly troubles over its own worth in the world, playfully echoing this song by The Supremes: “Love child, love child / Never quite as good / Afraid, ashamed, misunderstood / But I’ll always love you.”
You’ve likely already noticed: this isn’t your typical font. Instead of using pixels or vectors, photographer Anastasia Mastrakouli uses her own body to create a steamy alphabet (pardon the pun). Mastrakoukli positions herself behind wet glass partly hidden as if in a shower. She emphasizes certain parts of her body, and in turn certain parts of letters, by placing herself closer to the glass. The result is an eye-catching font – one in which the medium may grab more attention the the message it spells. Check out her website to see the rest of the alphabet.
Cristina De Middel brings a striking beauty to space travel in her series The Afronauts. Her series is based on the aspirations of Edward Makuka Nkoloso – a 1960’s Zambian school teacher who wanted to land his countrymen on the moon before the United States or the Soviet Union. Nkoloso was openly mocked, even by journalists. Through his story, the series’ pleasant imagery gives way to more serious underpinnings. De Middel says:
“The images are beautiful and the story is pleasant at a first level, but it is built on the fact that nobody believes that Africa will ever reach the moon. It hides a very subtle critique to our position towards the whole continent and our prejudices.”
Scout Paré-Phillips is an artist and musician based out of Chelsea, New York, and Baltimore, Maryland. In this fabulous and rather erotic series of photographs, the artist removes the model’s clothing leaving us with fleshy tones and only impressions. The imagination is allowed to run wild with the before and the after. (via)
Photographer Chistopher Jonassen‘s series Devour seems cosmic in origin. They appear to be photographs of planets mottled by millions of years of meteorite impacts and scarred by geological forces. In reality the series depicts the bottoms of pots. The worn metal is burnt, scratched, and often just old. Devour illustrates the destruction, even violence, inherent in eating and nourishment. On his website Jonassen precedes the series with a quote from philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre: “To eat is to appropriate by destruction.”
Photographer Ana Oliveira‘s Identities II is a touching series of portraits. She begins with old photographs of her subjects and through similar lighting, clothing, and poses she creates a parallel photograph. As much as sixty years lies between some of the older and newer portraits. The two portraits arranged side by side become a sort of existential before and after. I find myself imagining what took place in the decades between the two photographs, evidence of something in the now more pronounced lines in each sitters face. Its difficult not to envision expressions of expectation in the younger portraits, and mixtures of disappointment or content in their older counterparts.