Art Full

Sabtu, 06 Oktober 2007

Part of the Decampment series by the now 16-year-old photographer Megan Baker.

What I like most about this picture is the grayness.

Kamis, 06 September 2007

Hubert Dupras' little art workers

The images above illustrate the results of an unusual artistic collaboration between the French artist Hubert Duprat and a group of caddis fly larvae. A small winged insect belonging to the order Trichoptera and closely related to the butterfly, caddis flies live near streams and ponds and produce aquatic larvae that protect their developing bodies by manufacturing sheaths, or cases, spun from silk and incorporating substances—grains of sand, particles of mineral or plant material, bits of fish bone or crustacean shell—readily available in their benthic ecosystem. The larvae are remarkably adaptable: if other suitable materials are introduced into their environment, they will often incorporate those as well.

Hubert Duprat is one of those beautiful cases of scientist-turned-artist that makes me happy. Nature as a poietic element might not be anything new - after all, the wind does make magnificent drawings, and the sky is filled with clouds. Yet somehow, this is different. What possibly fascinates in this case is the fact that a live creature brings to life a work that seems to have the intelligent design typical of human activity. And it's not just about the art. Notice the difference between this and an elephant with a paintbrush: here, it is not the bare similarity with a man-made work of art that fascinates, but rather, the game between the demiurge and its work-turned-artist.
Once the stage is set, the director moves back, as his performers create.

See also the larvae in an action film.

(via)

Rabu, 29 Agustus 2007

Centerpiece

João Biscainho, AZAP!(As Zoon as Possible)
From the 2 Stages exhibition at the Centro de Artes de Espectáculo de Portalegre.

Selasa, 28 Agustus 2007

Quote of the day

One could say that our first performances were exactly as embarrassing to watch as only performance art can be. You know, when it comes to a point where the toes of the audience really start to hurt and everyone but the performers get soaking wet from sweating.

- Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset

Conclusion: no matter how bad the art, there is always hope. So before destroying and discouraging, relax. Think of the beautiful belly on this door, and of the time it took to grow. Respect that.

Pictures are of works by Elmgreen and Dragset: Belly Door (2006) and Powerless Structures, fig. 187 (2002)

Here is an interesting interview related to another work they made.

Sabtu, 25 Agustus 2007

Older

Just one remark (I can't seem to resist the theoretician's temptations of spoiling any pure, unintellectual fun). Notice the postal stamp on one of the postcards. The pleasure of seeing the "unmediated" pictures (although obviously the print suggests they are vintage publicity postcards for Paris venues) is blocked. There is, at first, a feeling of betrayal of the medium. Ah, this is not an image, it is just a postcard. It was used, handled. We are not in the presence of the original, of the source, but of some specific copy. "Specific" is in italics, because paradoxically the specificity is what, at first, appears to take away the uniqueness (aura) of the work.
But then arrives the second movement: the picture has a story. It was someone's. Someone mailed it to someone. There is even a hidden part to it! Also, the painted-on colors seem to gain depth, as they become the ideal mask, the part that doesn't lie, as it does not age, it is not a face, not a breast, it is merely the décor, the play, the mask, it is the surface that remains, it is the stamp, it is the frequency of color, nothing more, and strangely, this surface is what takes these bodies on a long and always illogical journey here.

Edible Estates

Fritz Haeg has been recently creating edible landscape design. Or eatable landscaping. Or vegetable social gardening. Or call it what you wish. In any case, it's only with edible plants. And apparently that's just about the most in thing around these days. But that's not what I like most about it. The best part of it is its connection to the idea of creating a public space out of a private one. Haeg's transformation of space involves a community working on a private front lawn to transform it into a public space, a sort of a public vegetable garden.

My favorite fragment from a very interesting interview:

I am very interested in the real economics involved once you deviate from the commercial conventions of the art and design world.
Most of the work I have been doing never paid until recently. For years I supported myself mostly by teaching and some modest architecture fees for small projects. Now I teach occasionally and I support myself from (in descending order) architecture design fees from the few projects I do, artist commission fees from museums, occasional teaching salaries, speaking honorariums, writing, and a bit from the Sundown Schoolhouse. The amount I actually earn from any one of them varies wildly, so I do what I do and hope every thing balances out in the end. I’m always living right on the edge though. That uncertainty is the price of doing work that does not have a conventional market.

Scary. Scary.

It is also interesting to compare this to the type of question that has been recently raised in Portugal - about the illegal hortas, or vegetable gardens often in the perimeters of cities and often in public spaces, which are often seen as a horrible left-over of the Salazarist era. Today some people seem to have a different approach, considering this an important cultural and aesthetic heritage.
There is something anarchist about promoting the Estates and the hortas, that both attracts and repels me. Maybe it's the feeling that this "new aesthetics" is being forced on us the same way any attempted revolution imposes a new set of values as "universal" (notice, for instance, how in the interview the more reticent onlookers are seen as retrograde and "regressive").

Jumat, 24 Agustus 2007

Opening doors. Hand in Hand.

I never thought opening doors could be an erotic experience. And yet, the very form of a hand brings us to a very sensible-sensual situation. It's probably an alter ego thing. A Pygmalion thing. And, as all naturalist sculptures are, a somewhat creepy thing as well. This charming Hand-le was made by Naomi Thellier de Poncheveille.

(via)