Archive for the ‘art – others’ Category
Below is the press release for the exhibition of Ana Weider-Blank (main space) and yrs truly (project space):
Honey Ramka is pleased to present Strange Friends, an exhibition by Ana Wieder-Blank. Strange Friends opens Friday, November 20th from 6-9 pm, and runs through Sunday, December 20th. This will be the artist's second solo exhibition at the gallery.
Wieder-Blank's raw, ebullient paintings and ceramics invoke mythic, protofeminist players—Lilith, Leda, La Loba—to enact terrible and heroic flashpoints of legend. Visionary and revisionist, searing and playful, Wieder-Blank "explore(s) the materials and content with a combination of dark humor, joy, and tragedy" to "change, distort, and extend narratives past their ends to create contemporary political allegories."
A consummate digital draftsman and blogger, Moody paints polymorphous biomorphs and pens trenchant criticism with polymathic aplomb. Here, Moody's work evokes underground comix styles, graffiti, and modernist painting. Or, as described by the artist, Original PNGs is:
"A series of drawings made with open source paint applications and printed on paper. The software apps, with names like Chibi Paint, Krita, and MyPaint are often used for online fan art. Here I'm treating them as found processes with inherent virtues, limitations, and quirks to be explored. Made with a tablet and stylus, the drawings struggle between inherited notions of artistic dexterity and the default labor-saving functions built into software. In the frictionless world of 1s and 0s, what does it even mean to struggle? 'PNGs' in the title refers to the preferred output file format for these apps. The PNG is a lightly compressed image that can be read in any browser. Here, a collection of 'original PNGs' are preserved for gallery display. A recent animated GIF will also be on view."
Honey Ramka is an exhibition space in Bushwick, Brooklyn @ 56 Bogart Street (first floor). The gallery is open from 1-6 pm, Friday through Sunday (and by appointment). For more information, visit HoneyRamka.com.
ascii version by bamboo (minus background)
based on a frame from a GIF by Rene Abythe
line art in top drawing: andrej
both drawings colored in Linux MyPaint
Another wrinkle (pun intended) on the idea of "digital painting." A. Bill Miller has been making physical drawings with oil stick and other media, scanning them, and texture-mapping them onto 3D-simulated folds of cloth. An archive of these is here.
Taking liberties I shopped (GIMPed) several of these into the "Magritte version" above.
Thinking back to studio days, painting cloth with a pattern was always hard because you had to simultaneously keep the logic or gestalt of the printed design in mind while reproducing the topological contortions of the fabric that you saw right before you. To get the folds right you were in constant danger of skewing the pattern. A 3D program allows so-called machine intelligence to do the problem-solving, freeing you the artist, up to do...what, exactly? What is the purpose of labor saving in a non-Taylorist context? In this case, I guess, it's to make a cloth-fetishist dreamscape.
"The Flying Stump" is the latest in a series of Situation Sculptures by The Art Guys.
As shown in the documentation video, the stump doesn't fly along its guyline a la Peter Pan, but rather just sort of hangs there, halfway up the side of a wooden telephone pole. Also, it's not really a stump per se but a cross section of another pole, with some rusted metal cleats still attached. This work of situational art will not be noticed by 99% of the people walking or speeding through this forlorn intersection north of Houston's Interstate 610 Loop, and that's part of the beauty of this simple, absurdist gesture.
It's not known if permits had to be obtained for this work. It appears the support wire for the stump had to be strung to a pole across the street -- the hoisting activity might have attracted some attention while it was going on. Otherwise, this is about as understated as it gets. You have some documentation telling what and where this is.
Conceptual artist Douglas Huebler famously declared: "The world is full of objects, more or less interesting; I do not wish to add any more." This dictum never got around to Shapeways, a startup dedicated to filling the world with copious amounts of additional objects... via 3D printing. At Shapeways, kids using phones (or adults using laptops) create cartoony objects, a designer can be hired to help implement the project (some kind of Uber sharing/exploitation situation), and then Shapeways 3D-prints the objects to be sold in its online store.
The above sculpture, which actually looks pretty appealing, at least as a jpeg, is the brainchild of EricHo, working with designer Kostika Spaho. The tardigrade is an internet-fan-adored micro-animal that lives in ponds, eating moss. It looks like a space creature (and is in fact so tough it can live for brief periods in space), a comparison emphasized by the artist's placement of it on a futuristic grey pedestal. The "sandstone" textures of the creature and base, as well as the color choices, have a sensual allure. A viewer from the time before 3D printing would greatly like to see this carved by hand, looking much like this, but several times larger than its actual size (5 x 4 x 3 centimeters). It's an outmoded prejudice of wanting to think of a hand, with tools, patiently cutting and smoothing these particular bizarre shapes.
This resembles (riffs on?) those "deep dreaming" composite fractal-like photo-drawings everyone was posting a few weeks ago. Some Google programmers came up with a script that makes morphy psychedelic images that supposedly plumb the depths of wide internet (i.e., Google Images) but seem very big on attaching dog's eyes to things. Imagine a universe of Dali-esque monstrosities sprouting hundreds of dog's eyes, or the scene in John Carpenter's The Thing where the husky splits open, saturated in rainbow colors, with extra dog's eyes, and you've pretty much got it. Stage's drawing above captures the suffocating paranoid universe of these eye-vortexes, in a slightly less robotic context, without the rainbow colors.
hat tips cheseball, grass, barry ritholtz