Archive for the ‘art – others’ Category
An earlier post carped about Hayes' superimposing Sailor Moon over icky de Kooning women, which felt like sloganeering (to which Hayes replied on dump, "dang brah," or something like that) but what's not to like about these pokemonsters-over-neoclassicism? Seductively and confidently rendered -- although glimpses of the actual paint surfaces are beside the point since the medium here is archival digital prints, offered by Exhibition A. The layering is a Picabia/Polke/Salle strategy but it works here because of the combination of absurd idea and tasty paint strokes. Similarities in colors and textures between "modern" foreground (as in, this-week's-headlines modern, what with Pokémon Go constantly in the news) and "classical" background make the juxtapositions seem almost logical.
Cognitive dissonance: Google reverse image search is touted as a way to find image B that looks like image A.
Yet, at the same time, image recognition technology is widely known as "not there yet" -- algorithms are so unsophisticated that security capchas routinely ask you to pick photos of pasta, or mountains, out of a grid of images because a robot can't do it.
Previously we've posted examples where Google reverse image search failed amusingly. (1 / 2) At that time, Google had a face-saving "tip" that you might improve the search by adding text words to the query. (E.g., "Green tiger striped Venus de Milo" or "five-tentacled alien with string of jade pearls.")
Lately, it seems, Google has decided to add those word suggestions for you, based on what their algorithm thinks you've posted. This can limit the search in ways that are not helpful.
Let's say you see a tattoo online that you know is based on a comic strip panel, and you want to see if the original art is treated as a "similar image."
If you paste the URL for the tattoo into Google Image Search, Google says (essentially) "we think this is a tattoo" and takes you to a results page that has the word "tattoo" pre-entered in the search field. You see a grid of supposedly "similar" images, but they are all tattoos because that word is controlling the search. If you remove the word nothing happens -- it's still the same grid. Searching "line art" or "clip art" still restricts you to tattoo pics.
So you try converting the image to black and white using an image editor, thinking it might get around the mandatory tattoo filter and locate "similar" line art.
Foiled again! Google guesses that this is an "animal" and takes you to a results page with that word pre-entered in the search field.
Now, you are restricted to searching manually in a vast array of animal line drawings.
And yet, reverse image search isn't treated as a "beta" program with major flaws; Google launched it as a "ready for prime time" utility.
PS: With or without reverse image search, I never did find an online version of Kaz's "Grim Chicken Reaper" drawing, from his '90s Underworld comic strip, but this text turned up:
goblin and doritowitch (and others?) were layering these Wall Street Journal style dot-drawings of famous male actors (anthony hopkins is in there somewhere). suddenly...
hat tip sidonie and dump.fm
modified, retitled version of "circumcision tool" by cheseball
hat tips dump.fm
hat tips powerstripp and "tarp guy"
@ to concerned artists
i see alex bacon as court stenographer-in-waiting for various galleries showing post internet-style abstract painting. he had a group of favorite artists (jacob kassay, parker ito, etc) and when invited to do the brushes panel at the newmu he clearly wasn't very conversant with michael connor's chosen artists (laura brothers, michael manning). so he adapted and expanded his boilerplate theoretical essay about painting in the digital age to include brothers, beef up his discussion of manning, and add some newbies. his theory is ultimately elastic, but not elastic enough to include outsiders/outliers from the gaming or geek spheres, such as andrej ujhazy, a brushes panel artist bacon omits from his rhizome essay
^Written a few weeks ago -- to flesh it out a bit:
Bacon's modus operandi seems to be roping standard gallery abstraction styles into "digital" discourse, or vice versa. During Bacon's slide talk for the Brushes panel, you could almost feel the collective wince when he described some window-mounted panels as "physical jpegs." His defense of 303 Gallery hot artist du jour Jacob Kassay is similarly "off." Kassay's paintings have a reflective silver surface; some discussion could be had about the materials -- paint vs plated silver, support vs surface, "presence," etc -- but there is nothing intrinsically "cyber" about this work.
Yet in a 2014 interview, Bacon trowels on the digital metaphors to make the work seem relevant to the Facebook era:
They are about the fragmentary and contingent nature of vision and, insofar as this relates to our forging of identity through the endless stream of images we seamlessly upload and download, they have a contemporary valence. We expect for the Kassay to mirror us back, but instead we are faced with a caesura of vision, a literal blurring out. A Kassay constructs a complex visual system, because you want to move around them to resolve the image, but it’s an impossibility. Nor can the autofocus of a camera map one of these paintings, which is radical considering the sinister potential of technologized forms of spatial mapping and image profiling. The work is not “about” that technology, but it has that valence.
The au courant techno-connections -- autofocus, uploading -- offer flimsy, ex post facto justifications for material work. When Georg Herold used a mirrored surface back in the dot com era, it was in the context of a show called "compu.comp.virtual visualities.equivacs.bitmapdyes," so a critic could sort of legitimately talk about mirrors as "screens."
For his Brushes panel essay for Rhizome.org, Bacon recycles the same Kassay apologetics:
Jacob Kassay’s silver paintings, which are canvases coated in acrylic that the artist sends to be commercially plated with silver, are about our expectations of how vision operates—what we see, and our engagement with our own image. People talk about how they absorb their surroundings, but of course they are not mirrors, they are plated silver. You have to burnish the silver to make it reflective and Kassay doesn’t do that, he just takes them as they’re made in the plating process, which gives them very interesting surfaces. Up close the reflection is hazy, but as you go back it gets clearer, and if someone walks by you see them very clearly, while they see themselves as a blur. They are a very concrete commentary on a certain type of perception. These paintings are a suggestion about the fragmentary and contingent nature of vision and, insofar as this relates to our forging of identity through the endless stream of images we seamlessly upload and download, they have a contemporary valence. This is embedded in the functioning of Kassay’s surfaces, which solicit our desire to see ourselves, which has found the apogee of its contemporary expression in the obsession with taking and sharing of selfies. Indeed, people love to try to take their picture as it appears in a Kassay painting, but they find that their individuality is all but melted by the distortions of the plated metal. We expect for the Kassay to mirror us back, but instead we are faced with a caesura of vision, a literal blurring out. A Kassay painting is a construction of a complex visual system, because a viewer wants to move around them to resolve the image, but it’s impossible. Nor can the autofocus of a camera map one of these paintings, which is radical considering the sinister potential of technologized forms of spatial mapping and image profiling. The work is not “about” that technology, but it nonetheless speaks to it obliquely.
On the left, random photo-detail-crop of Cally Spooner performance work at the NewMu (hat tip helvetica12); on the right, a clip from Luc Besson's Lucy, depicting Scarlett Johansson telekinetically flinging a mobster into a wall. Caught on the fly, Spooner's work resembles standard Trisha Brown-style gesture art but there's so much more. As the press release tells us, this is "a group of dancers who respond to conflicting choreographic instructions: to stay intimately bound together while remaining fiercely separate." Moreover, "trained by rugby players and a movie director, [their work follows] the logic of a 'stand-up scrum' -- a daily meeting often used in collaborative, responsive practices such as software development." Darn, that's a lot for one work of art.
Scarlett Johansson may or may not have had a rugby coach, but she is definitely guided by a movie director. Cally Spooner perhaps didn't need the theoretical overkill to institutionally legitimize her dancers' movements. In our current critically relaxed state where Laura Poitras and Tim Burton are shown in museums as "artists" it's only fitting to consider Johansson's genetically enhanced superhuman Lucy as form of po-Mo body practitioner. Semioticians may have already noted that the name Lucy is a trans twist on Luc, etc etc.
hat tips deviantart and various dumpers