I’ve always been interested in the creative energy that comes out of Australia and Nick Thompson’s work is just another reason to love the land down under. His work is clean, bold, and full of impact. Watch the video for the image above and see a fantastic selection of his creative output after the jump!
I’m loving the work of Barcelona, Spain based street artist Faif as of late. He’s recently been taking some well pointed jabs at the art world, street art, and pop culture as a whole with his wonky works on the street. Lets hope he keeps it up and other graffiti artists/street artists follow his lead to never take what they do too serious. (via)
Shot in 2005, this video takes viewers on a tour of painter Fred Tomaselli’s studio where the artist discusses his elaborate process of maximalist collage and poured resin. Tomaselli throws everything but the kitchen sink into his psychedelic and psychological works from plants grown in his garden, prescription pills, to hundreds of magazine cut outs. The result is an explosive mix of obsessive and ornate pieces that delve into the darkest inner corridor of the human psyche.
For American Asylum, photographer Jeremy Harris captures the abandoned interiors of American mental institutions that operated during the 19th century. With the increased presence of psychiatric hospitals, the mid-1800s were characterized in part by a growing fear of the mentally ill. State-funded hospitals were often overcrowded, and there existed a widespread panic that sane people were being wrongfully institutionalized. Nearly two centuries later, Harris hauntingly presents these hospitals, these strange sites of psychological trauma, in decay.
Harris’s soft natural lighting is startling reminiscent of Francisco de Goya’s early 19th century painting The Madhouse. Emptied of its residents, the space seems darkly oppressive, colored in sickly greens and putrid browns. Shot with a profound depth of field, endless hallways house tiny rooms like some perverse dollhouse. The curved ceilings, now in ruin, frame the photographs in currents of claustrophobia.
Even in the shots in which we are offered some escape—the relief of an open door or wide-set window—viewers are compelled to stay within the confining space. Amidst chipped paint and rotting walls are signifiers of some ancient humanity, long forgotten by time: a rusted organ, a tilted chair, a message on the wall. The traces of life and bodies persist in old sinks and forgotten parcels. Somehow, these haunted spaces are beautiful, bathed in light. The people who lived here, once removed from and silenced by society, speak out in the ruins of the building that once contained them, as if to say, “This happened. We were here.” (via Lost at E Minor)
Marsha Pels poetically recontextualizes found objects of power and politics. Cohesion in her works is achieved though this particular modus operandi, though not necessarily in subject matter. Her gutsy recent exhibit at Schroeder Romero, “Dead Mother, Dead Cowboy,” made a connection between the recent death of her mother and abandonment by her partner. Artworks within this exhibition included a fluorescent lit, crystal-clear casting of Pels’ mother draped in mink stoles, her ex-lover on a deconstructed motorcycle, and castings of her own hands made in her mother’s gloves. For lack of a better word, this personal and haunting expose on desire, loss and morning is brave—laying bare an honest, and witty personal narrative. Recently Marsha discussed her creative inspiration, and her in-depth thought process behind her recent sculptural series.