The figures of Korean artist Wang Zi Won seem above all peaceful. His statues are also machines that perform prayers. He mixes Buddhist imagery with autobiographical depictions to illustrate a futuristic mix of technology and spirituality. It is interesting that Wang’s sculpture’s abandon the physical body – in a sense something Buddhism and visions of the future share in common. Indeed, his vision of the future seems to be a bit of an optimistic one. That is, one in which further harmony between man and machine leads to a more complete existence and identity. [via]
Korean artist Do Ho Suh has often explored thoughts on collective strength (and perhaps weakness) in his work before. However, his new sculpture Karma addresses a more personal collectivity. This enormous sculpture seems to stretch on perpetually. At the sculpture’s base a man stands with his eyes covered by another man crouching on his back. That man’s eyes are also covered by another man crouching on his back and this pattern appears to repeat ad infinitum. Perhaps a literal visual interpretation of the concept of karma or even the saying ‘history is doomed to repeat itself’.
The work of Korean artist Cha Jong-Rye looks like anything but wood. Her large pieces hang on the wall as if they were draped cloth, strange liquids, and geological formations. Her peculiar choice of medium undoubtedly references these and other ideas of nature and the home. She painstakingly carves her work from wood, often from hundreds of small pieces. She seems to crumple, pinch, and pull a material that’s especially rigid, typically found as a tree or house. They’re temptingly tactile – if no one in the gallery noticed I’d nearly be enticed to drag my fingers across their surface. [via]
Ana Bidart‘s sculptures resemble small geological models. She wears away layers and layers of paper to create each piece. Reminiscent of rolls of receipt paper or even toilet paper, her medium in this series usually has a particularly utilitarian purpose. Her sculptures emphasize the objects’ more poetic characteristics. Though solid and consistent in appearance Bidart exposes the many layers that form the whole. Her work easily lends itself to various metaphors.
Check out the artwork of Japanese artist Takahiro Iwasaki. “Not only are his small buildings and electrical towers excruciatingly small and delicate, but they also rest on absurdly mundane objects: rolls of tape, a haphazardly wrinkled towel, or from the bristles of a discarded toothbrush. Only on close inspection do the small details come into focus, faint hints of urbanization sprouting from disorder.” (via).
Guy Laramee delicately cuts caverns through the centers of books. He carves the pages away to reveal caves that seem to be ready to be explored. His work explores the insides of books in a very literal way. Indeed, Laramee’s sculptures in way recall the plot of a classic: Journey to the Center of the Earth. And, in fact, Laramee mentions this book in his statement on the series. He says:
“Like in Jules Verne’s “Journey to the Center of the Earth”, we seem to be chained to this quest. We “have to” know what lies inside things. But in doing so, we bury ourselves in the “about-ness” of our productions – language, function, etc- all things “about” other things.”
The stark sculptures of Al Farrow are jolting in their simplicity. His Reliquaries series of sculptures are houses of worship and reliquaries (a container for holy relics) built from weapons and ammunition. Stacks of bullets form walls, barrels form steeples, and muzzles form minarets. Farrow’s artistic commentary on violence in connection with religion is a powerful one. Using a provocative medium to create loaded imagery (seriously, pun not intended), Farrow’s work easily elicits strong responses from viewers.
The work of Nicola Bolla is arresting in its contrasts. The artist often fashions sculptures of straightforward (albeit morbid) objects that are then covered in sparkling crystals. The glamorous glitter of the crystal is juxtaposed against the utilitarian nature of many of the objects they cover. These are further contrasted in these images taken by photographer Sergio Alfredini. The dilapidated house provides a strangely ideal setting to emphasize these brightly dark sculptures.