New York Magazine just named Everything is Embarrassing their song of the year for 2012. You can see her perform tonight on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon backed by the Roots and you can look forward to the release of her debut LP later this year and hopefully an extended tour.
Stina Persson is an incredibly talented illustrator hailing from Stockholm, Sweden. I’m a huge fan of her rich, full color palette paired with seductive, free-flowing lines. Even the way she handles cut paper is so sophisticated!
Okay just joking. Maybe don’t give your kid alcohol. After all this project by Anna Utopia Giordano isn’t about promoting brand name kiddie alcohol.Instead the artist is looking to raise social awareness on topics such as alcohol abuse by teens, pregnant women, and the disinterest of some parents towards their children (abandoned for days between toys and video games), how far marketers can go to gain the attention of their younger customers. See more designer booze after the jump.
Join B/D and a bunch of other creative vendors this Saturday at Designer Con! Now in its fifth year, Designer Con is an annual art and design convention that smashes together collectible toys and designer apparel with urban, underground and pop art.
Swing by our booth, partake in the holy secret cult of decay handshake, buy a book or two and get some killer deals on new shirts!
Saturday, November 20th, 2010
10 am to 5 pm
Admission: $5 (free after 3 pm!)
Pasadena Convention Center
300 East Green Street
Pasadena, CA 91101
Jim Callahan is a multi-talented creative who lends his bold pop-icon vibrant graphic style to a potty-mouthed vision of vulgar humor and the macabre. His humorously outlandish take on his subjects disarms their gritty gore visuals of exploding skull & brains, guts and the spray of blood. James Callahan also runs his own fledgling deck company: Nowhere Skateboards, and has illustrated comics, such as Strange Detective Tales and Rotting In Dirtville. He is also responsible for the DVD covers to the daybyday films, among art for piles of records, CD’s, shirts, toys, posters, and beyond.. James was interviewed in issue: D of Beautiful/Decay magazine and designed the three-dimensional stunner “Barf 3d” for Beautiful/Decay Apparel- which featured, of course, a three-dimensional skull puking a cacophony of vile beasts. Most recently he contributed the mind-blowing (no pun intended) graphic “Kersplat” that shows someone’s brain literally exploding from reading B/D!
The Paris-based sculptor Elisabeth Daynès listens to bones, to the remains of our evolutionary ancestors that have lived up to three million years ago. Throughout her prolific 20 year career, the “paleoartist” has worked from the skulls of wooly mammoths to species of hominid to create vividly detailed figures. Based on 18 data points that mark the bone, she can use a computer to model facial features that she later shapes out of clay. She refers to research and other bone samples to determine the build of her subjects, and ultimately she creates a silicone cast, complete with delicate painted features: veins, goosebumps, blemishes.
In a final step towards humanizing her sculptures, Daynès includes prosthetic eyes, teeth, and hair, each of which is as historically and scientifically accurate as possible. Current research suggests that Neanderthals, for example, had red hair; for her uncanny hominids, that range from Homo sapien to Homo erectus, she uses a blend of human hair. In her mind’s eye, the artist draws an informed portrait of each subject she reanimates; from the bones, she can determine period, sex and age, along with finer details like culture, climate, diet, and health.
For Daynès, this process is as much an art as it is a science. Ultimately, she hopes to reconnect with our past, embarking on a forensic search of what makes us human. Dismayed by the ways in which early human ancestors are reviled as unintelligent brutes, she injects her creations with a powerful dose of humanity; their brows furrow with concentration, and their eyes are painfully gentle. She explains “missing” them when they leave her studio for a permanent home in a museum. Take a look. (via Daily Mail and Lost at E Minor)
Japanese artist Fuco Ueda paints colorfully morbid pictures, full of sad and mysterious girls, glowing fauna and beautifully detailed flora. Ueda’s world is a quiet and magical one; a place where fireflies, bees and butterflies buzz and whirr past girls with long green hair and skeleton hands. Her characters are mischievous yet appear innocent; they are deceptive and deceitful, yet charming and magnetic. They seem like they are in a state of limbo – like they are making the transition from life to death, and are losing bodyparts along the way. The girls are usually surrounded by hitodama: balls of fire thought to be a spirit of the dead.
Ueda’s work is a dreamy look at the scope of human emotions. She shows great sympathy toward the human condition and wears her heart on her sleeve. The gallery that curated her latest show sums it up:
[She] portrays the feeling of loneliness that exists within dreams and reality through paintings of floating illusions. In her depiction of innocent female characters surrounded by natures bounty you get a glimpse of the “deep psyche of the human mind.” Despite bursting with intimacy, there are sounds you can almost hear but can’t and things you can almost grasp but are out of reach. (Source)
My parent’s bathroom at the house I first lived in had a full-length mirror behind the sink, which also had a mirror. As soon as I was tall enough to see over the counter, I remember staring at an infinite number of my own reflections bouncing back and forth and I recall the frustration that I could never find where the reflections ended. This is the memory invoked when I saw Beth Campbell’s work for the first time.
Working in a variety of mediums: drawings, sculpture and what she calls “architectural interventions,” Campbell’s body of work toys with perception. Her Potential Future Based on Present Circumstances drawing series maps possible outcomes to present decisions. These were the first works I saw by Campbell and I recall thinking how brilliant, but impossible they were. Like me and my reflection in the mirror, Campbell was trying to make sense of the unrealistic and perhaps impractical idea that we can know what might have been. Their humor and neurosis seemed so quintessentially human to me that I became an instant lover of her work.