Archive for December, 2008
by Suzanne on December 30th, 2008
Succubus by James Jean, ink and acrylic on paper, 2006 - click for details/larger view
Ah, James Jean (previously featured here, here, here & here, to name a few) & Kenichi Hoshine! Ever since the days of A Polite Winter my absolute favourite art dream team après Albrecht Dürer & Joachim Patinir - who, sadly, didn't have a collaborative website project back in their days.
Hoshine's fragile, fragmentary and elusive works always seemed to breath ethereal life (and death!) into Jean's playful feminine marzipan wonderlands - together their art was as breathtaking and heartbreaking as an albino antelope baby with 2 heads and 5 black beady pleading eyes. Or something.
Now - for what seems to be the first time since their Polite Winter days - Jean and Hoshine's works will once again appear together at Jonathan LeVine's in NYC (although in different wings - Hoshine is in the Project Room).
There aren't any show previews online yet, so I don't really know what exactly the people at LeVine will show you, but rest assured that it'll be a very rememberable double exhibition. One item that will definitely be on show is the astonishing Toymaker - James Jean's most recent and most festive triptych yet.
Further details below.
Sink by James Jean, ink and acrylic on paper, 2006 - click for details/larger view
Opening reception: Saturday, January 10, 2009, 6 - 9 PM
On show: January 10 - February 7, 2009
Opening times: Tue - Sat, 11 AM - 6 PM
James Jean on the WurzelForum®
by Suzanne on December 29th, 2008
Fiddle Fatale by Paul Chatem, acrylic on canvas - click for details/larger view
Over the past two months, Rome's Dorothy Circus Gallery has been the temporary home to some great art by talented folks like Paul Chatem, Esao Andrews, Travis Louie, David Stoupakis, Camille Rose Garcia, Elena Rapa & Adam Wallacavage.
Closing: Tomorrow, Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Opening times: Tue - Sat: 11 AM - 8 PM
by Suzanne on December 25th, 2008
A very merry Christmashanukkahkwanzaawintersolstice from Wurzeltod™ - currently being a very bad vegan and watching way too many silly Christmas specials.
I never liked watching TV as it always feels like this evil flickering machine is trying to suck my brains out, hence I sneaked out, grabbed the nearest ethernet cable and decided it's high time to post the traditional Wurzeltod Christmas Link Dump
And just like your granny's gift wrap, this one is 97.5% recycled from previous seasons and most links are older than the interweb itself, but thanks to Joel Veitch, we do have at least one new addition - spreading communist
indoctrination love, nonetheless.
Anyway, have a good one!
RECYCLED WURZELTOD™ CHRISTMAS SPECIAL 2008
© Rathergood, 2008
• Rathergood's Communist Christmas (animation)
• Christmas Letters to Christopher Walken (project)
• Making Fiends Christmas Episode (animation)
• Weebl and Bob's White Christmas (animation)
• B3ta’s Tramp O Claus (animation)
• Christmas Consumerism Lemmings (game)
• The Incident Before Christmas (game)
• Happy Holidays From Chaos Kitty (game)
• "Scared of Santa" Photo Gallery (gallery)
• Swapatorium's Retro Christmas (gallery)
• Krampus Postcards From Copro Nason Gallery (gallery)
• Walter Martin & Paloma Muñoz's Winter Landscapes (project)
In other news, I'm engaged!
by Suzanne on December 20th, 2008
© Scott Radke, 2008 - click for details/larger view
For the past 4 months, the insanely twisted Scott Radke (previously featured here) has been working on his pièce de résistance. A composition of such immense beauty that I'll make sure it will go down in The Annals of Greatest Sculptural Art Ever Created by Human Paws (because I'm the future author of this book, in case you wondered).
I'm speechless beyond belief (and trust me that this happens very, very rarely... I tend to talk too much about things I know too little about) and in deep awe - so please forgive me if I keep this post short and let the enchanting images speak...
Al images © Scott Radke, 2008 - click for details/larger view
My eyeballs would like to thank you kindly for this early visual Christmas feast, monsieur Radke, and congratulate you to your masterpiece
by Suzanne on December 18th, 2008
Why is it that when you're at work 11 hours, commute 2 hours each way (30 mins walking, 30 mins standing body to body, nice, 40 mins sitting, thank you, oh generous FirstCapitalConnect god, 20 mins trying in vain to squeeze into tubes/trains and having to give up and wait for the next one), you still don't get 9 hours of sleep?
Is it because you need to do all these pointless things like eating meals, unlacing shoes, unbuttoning coats, brushing those scary two lines of off-white pebbles stuck in your mouth called "teeth" twice a fucking day, putting eye drops in your reddened eyes that will go blind eventually, or cutting the nails of toes you feel so incredibly alienated from because you never ever look at them?
I really don't get it. Arithmetically, my life should be possible, yet I feel exhausted and increasingly jealous of other people's spare time. It's been months since I had coffee with my friend (it doesn't help that she lives on the other side of the Channel, of course), I can't go to the cinema without thinking I am wasting my time (which, sadly, is mostly the case), and going to gigs is just not an option anymore because I work on weekends.
But what pains me the most is that I can't go to exhibitions anymore or spend hours on end exploring the riches of old museum collections until being thrown out by a warden and crash on their timeless, majestic cold stone stairs, realising you've been walking around in there for 6 hours, feeling hungry and sickeningly dehydrated and breaking down in a flood of tears because of all the wonders you've just absorbed with your little, modern day eyes and understanding that this was only a tiny, tiny fraction of all the marvels your anchestors have crafted so skillfully and wisely. And at last coming to terms with the fact that mankind will never be able to create such work of ethereal beauty ever again. Because, we're like successfully extincting everything around us and eventually ourselves and stuff. I miss this roller coaster of emotions so dearly. I refuse to believe that some people find museums boring. There's absolutely nothing on earth that moves me and makes me tremble with awe more. Museums are the real churches.
Anyway, I commuted to most jobs I had in my life - sometimes up to 6 hours a day - but never into an insane hellhole like London. Maybe my body is still adapting, but judging from the long-time commuters' zombiesque appearances and watery eyes, it never will. I know how extremely fortunate I am to have a job in an industry (ha, don't I just love referring to the arts as "industry"!) where I want to spend pretty much the rest of my life, but it's frustrating when your robotic lifestyle doesn't allow you to be more creative. My mind has always been an insanely imaginative vessel - to the point where it puzzled and often even scared me. I'm incapable to feel boredom, just inspiration, amusement and excitement, and if my mind is left in peace for a little while, it turns into a creative and imaginative fireball. But when life turns automatonlike, these tendencies get silenced and sadly, that's what has happened to me and I'm left with the frustrating feeling that people around me fulfill the things I wanted to achieve in my life before me and conquer the exact same territories I planned to invade and stick my flag in a long, long time ago. But alas, my disadvantage is that I simply have no time and too much work. Possibly the two worst excuses in the history of mankind for not doing what one truly came here to do.
Ever since early childhood, I infused empty-minded friends with colourful ideas that they could then develop further and thus pretend to figures of influence or authority like teachers or elder students that they had an imagination of their own. I never minded it the slightest - I guess because at the end of the day, people with empty minds deeply frighten me for they're so susceptible to the wrong/extreme/violent kinds of ideas. Later in my teens, I turned into a proper idea machine, and it took me a long time to understand that at this point a few (now distant) friends profited vastly and financially from me.
Yet, I couldn't switch myself off. At the age of 17, I left home to spend a year abroad (about 20 mins from where I live now, strangely enough) and I made a drastic attempt to try to turn off my brain by going on a bizarre hunger strike that made my imagination even stronger, because I was so weak that I now also had to deal with hallucinations, insomnia and schizophrenia. Once the childish hunger strike had turned into a persevere anorexia, my mind even started to overproduce sensations and I vividly remember eating a Nairn's oatcake (a day) and my brain would fire away trying to analyze the million flavours of it and come up with a detailed analysis by the time I went to bed. My dreams were more esoteric, arcane and obscure than ever before and I felt almost like a walking mind attached to a ghostlike body. Close to the end of my stay abroad, I began to understand that one of the very few things that made my brain not overreact but actually calmed me down tremendously was reading dictionaries. 'Tis was the time I turned into a self-taught etymologist and decided to study archaeology. Because both of them seemed strictly historically determined, standardized and had a defined terminology. They didn't need my creative input. They made sense. So back then, I understood etymology as the archaeology of words and archaeology as the etymology of man-made things. But as always, I was oh so wrong.
And at this point, I must admit to you, my beloved reader, that I completely lost track of where I intended this little article to go. I simply can't remember. All I can remember right now is my German literature teacher giving me a really bad review on an essay I felt was the most emotional, innermost, most vulnerable thing I've ever written in my short life and I can still hear his voice saying (in German, obviously) when we analyzed what went wrong together: "Look... I know you can write. But there are too many thoughts in there... you need to focus, hold on to one thought at a time and drag it down with you before catching the next thought balloon. If you're really so afraid of losing one on the go, let me tell you that you might end up losing them all if you're not careful" and I walked out, sat down on the shore of Lake Lucerne and cried. Because there was more truth in what he had just said than anyone had taught me in decades. And I'm still struggling with it.
I always had the dream that when I'm old, I'll be one of those calm, quiet, wise women - full of knowledge, with a constant distant smile on my face. But I'm now realising that in order to get one's mind to such a state of reflective meditation, you need plenty of time for introspection and cognitive self-research. Not just when you're old, but throughout your entire life. You need distance - from others and from yourself. You need new, unseen places, new, untouched shores, new, unheard voices, new scents and tastes. And I so desperately want to meet them all.
by Suzanne on December 13th, 2008
House by David Stoupakis, oil on board - click for detail/larger view
... and it looks like it's going to be yet another busy opening reception marathon for art lovers in Culver City this weekend.
The exhibition will show a series of entirely new works by David and will remain on display until the end of December. Further details below.
Repercussions by David Stoupakis, oil on board - click for detail/larger view
Opening reception: Saturday, December 13, 2008, 7 - 10 PM
On show: December 13 - 31, 2008
Opening times: Tue - Sat: 12 - 6 PM
by Suzanne on December 12th, 2008
Eve Serpent by Daniel Martin Diaz, oil on wood, 2008 - click for details/larger view
If you can't make it to Culver City before January 3rd, you can watch this video interview about the show as a small consolation.
Elegy by Daniel Martin Diaz, oil on wood, 2008 - click for details/larger view
Opening reception: Tomorrow, Saturday, December 13, 2008, 7 - 10 PM
On show: December 13, 2008 - January 3, 2009
Address: Billy Shire Fine Arts, 5790 Washington Blvd., Culver City, CA 90232, USA, tel: 323-297-0600
Gallery hours: Tue- Sat: 12 PM - 6 PM
by Suzanne on December 12th, 2008
Antee by Moki - click for details/larger view
Since I'm very much drawn to the sensitive, translucent and ethereal these days, my current favourite artists are the great Joao Ruas and the pale Northern German porcelain creature Moki. As different as their work may be, they both somehow perfectly manage to capture my current state of mind. I call it "Aufgeklärte Geborgenheit" or "Kritische Gemütlichkeit".
I guess you could argue that the above painting simply depicts an anteater wrapped in warm blankets and soft cushions, yet it makes me feel so utterly complete, warm and fuzzy inside - almost as if I had (accidentally) swallowed a tiny furry animal that's now moving around in my belly making funny noises with its soft paws.
(Sometimes I really miss the fatherly concern of my beardy and wise art history professors telling me that I can't describe visual impressions by means of furry animals and that I should really stick to proper iconographic terminology.)
Anyway, dear Moki has a much better way with words:
"I am looking for places that are good for hiding, where you feel secure and safe, where you can disappear or return home. Being invisible."
Opening reception: Tomorrow, Saturday, December 13, 2008, 8 PM onwards
On show: December 13, 2008 - January 16, 2009
Address: HeliumCowboy ArtSpace, Sternstraße 4, 20357 Hamburg, Germany, tel: +49 40 484 088 60
Gallery hours: Wed - Fri: 11 AM - 7 PM
by Suzanne on December 12th, 2008
Sapphire by Marina Bychkova, porcelain, ball-jointed,13.5” - click for details/larger view
Marina Bychkova (see image above, previously featured here), Cliff Wallace (see image below) & Virginie Ropars will all exhibit their doll/creature effects/sculpture works alongside Daniël's oeuvre and I really, really wish I could beam myself to Berlin-Mitte to see this exhibition, particularly because Daniël announced on his blog that:
"This will be a show that's in a completely dark gallery... the confessional, the large tryptich and other new work will be present."
I have no idea whether that's a slight exaggeration or whether people will have to bring torches or just stumble through a "completely dark gallery" in the faint hope to smash the least expensive sculpture to pieces, but I admit that it does sound conceptually interesting to say the least. Further details below.
The Burden of Knowledge by Cliff Wallace - click for details/larger view
Opening reception: Tonight, Friday, December 12, 2008, 7 PM onwards
On show: December 12, 2008 - February 1, 2009
Address: Strychnin Gallery Berlin, Boxhagenerstrasse 36, D-10245 Berlin, Germany, tel: +49 30 9700 2035
I know all you
rich bastards beloved readers have been impatiently waiting an entire year for the glorious moment to buy me a yule present. Which is exactly why I have just updated all my Amazon wishlists (click for UK, US, DE) as well as my Etsy wishlist.
You can of course also buy me
a pony and an iPhone central heating and thermo underwear instead or make a small donation if this website has put a smile on your face at some point. If, however, you suffer from facial paralysis and can't stop smiling, please consult a doctor or a qualified plastic surgeon.
Thank you very much for your support!
by Suzanne on December 12th, 2008
Charlotte by Nicoletta Ceccoli - click for details/larger view
By The Time You Are Real features new works made specifically for the Manchester show and a new range of prints. Weeeeee!
And who knows, maybe I'll actually finally make it up north in the new year to have a look at Nicoletta's magical little works with my own blurry eyes.
Eva by Nicoletta Ceccoli - click for details/larger view
Opening: Tomorrow, Saturday, December 13, 2008
On show: December 13, 2008 - January 31, 2009
Gallery hours: Wed - Fri: 11 AM - 6 PM, Sat: 12 - 4 PM