Morten Postrup has a rather fine collection of patterned Swedish book covers, 1950 -1962.
Related. Via Coconut Jam.
Mike Libby’s Insect Lab customises real bugs with electronic components and antique watch parts.
For that Burroughs / Cronenberg chic.
Infrared landscapes by Gary Robertshaw.
More infrared photography by Andy Finney. (h/t, Dark Roasted Blend.)
With the latest Turner Prize triumph still fresh in our minds, here’s the Fallon agency’s new ad for Sony’s Bravia TVs. Like its predecessors, this one hints at why the notion of art as something aloof from, and critical of, commercial culture now seems mannered, rather creaky and, perhaps, obsolete.
More, including the making of.
Update:
As requested, here’s the making of the ‘Play Doh’ ad.
And, to complete the set, here’s the making of ‘balls’ and ‘paint’.
Nick Cohen casts an eye over Brian Haw’s “peace” protest and Mark Wallinger’s “bold” copy.
Like so many others, Haw can’t ask who is killing whom in Iraq. There are no slogans expressing his disgust at the death squads of the Baathists and Iranian-backed Shia militias, nor of Abu Musab al-Zarqawi, the late leader of al-Qaeda in Iraq, who explained that he would murder Iraq’s Shias indiscriminately so that they would retaliate and “show the Sunnis their rabies and bare the teeth… and drag them into the arena of sectarian war.” The placards about Afghanistan continue the theme and don’t manage a word of criticism of the Taliban’s crimes and ideology. Western governments are responsible for the woes of humanity; no one else is worth mentioning…
Last week, Haw… became the darling of the art establishment. The Turner judges gave Mark Wallinger the 2007 prize for his recreation of Haw’s original line of banners denouncing “baby killers” and “B-liar”, displayed first at Tate Britain and now at Tate Liverpool. The judges praised Wallinger directly and Haw by implication for “the immediacy, visceral intensity and historic importance” of a work that “combines a bold political statement with art’s ability to articulate fundamental human truths.” Hyperbole at this intensity usually conceals insecurity. I wonder whether the Turner judges blustered because they knew in their hearts that in the current climate in liberal England Wallinger would have made a “bold political statement” if he had put a piece defending the government in the Tate.
Setting aside the issue of Haw’s right to protest, the nature of his protest – and its glib regurgitation – is what’s interesting. That a posture so inexcusably selective, deluded and drearily commonplace should be deemed admirable by Wallinger is almost funny. That Wallinger’s copy of it should in turn be hailed by the art establishment as “bold”, “visceral” and “intense” is practically tragicomic.
I toyed with the idea of writing something about the latest Turner Prize winner, Mark Wallinger, and his generic, vacuous gestures. But, frankly, it’s all too dreary and enough has already been said.
This, however, cheered me up no end.
Illustrations by Tom Gauld. More. And. (Via The Roar of Comics.)
Comics are above all a visual medium and how they look is a matter of no small importance. Lapses in writing can to some extent be redeemed by very strong artwork, but a badly drawn comic is much more difficult to forgive. Thankfully, Frank Quitely draws very well indeed and is once again working with Grant Morrison, whose writing is often rather good. Quitely’s previous collaborations with Morrison, on New X-Men and We3, are among the finer examples of the comic book form. Their latest collaboration, All-Star Superman, lends subtlety and charm to what is, for me, an otherwise tedious character. Quitely and Morrison manage to give the well-meaning man of steel a measure of personality, and mortality, and pleasing emphasis is placed on how the central characters relate. The overall tone is one of affectionate nostalgia, with small character details set against amusing spectacle.
The most recent instalment finds our hero usurped by a pair of long-lost Kryptonian astronauts, Bar-El and Lilo, whose detachment from the “squalor” around them is refreshing in its candour and logic. (We also learn that the influence of Earth’s new champions extends to fashion, with Jimmy Olsen taking inordinate pride in his new Krypton-style “overpants”.) The inevitable tussle between Superman and his replacements is brief and visually witty, not least when Superman is hurled into the Moon, cracking it rather badly and prompting a hasty repair job involving several national landmarks. It’s a moment of pure visual whimsy, one of many. All-Star Superman doesn’t have the psychological grit of New X-Men or the emotive edge of We3, but Quitely and Morrison spin an engaging yarn that’s always a pleasure to look at and that even makes Superman an interesting character. Which is something Bryan Singer failed to do, armed with $200,000,000.
I stumbled across Bob Truby’s impressive collection of brand name pencils. From Fila and Royal Sovereign to classic pencils of WWII.
Recent Comments