Winter is Coming

Fall has made its departure from New York, and winter is moving in (Winter is coming...I'm absorbed in the world of Game of Thrones right now). Fall in New York is heaven - if only it wasn't so short. Below and above are photos of the fall leaves in Central Park, and the sketches they inspired. This will be my last winter season in New York (for now...) - I can't say I'll miss it, but there is something wondrous about snow falling on quiet streets.

Art in Motion

This past week Frog Design posted a great collection of motion art videos demonstrating the unique beauty that can be derived from seeing graphics in motion. One piece in particular, a collection of motion graphics work done by the Umeric studio, is in my opinion as visually stimulating and artistic as any painting hanging in a museum:

There are a couple of things I find interesting about this kind of art. One is the fact that it uses motion not just as an additive element, but as the primary vehicle for its aesthetic message; the gliding and pulsing movements of the jelly-fish in the first sequence are the primary elements of the piece . It glows and changes colors and sparkles, adding an extra-terrestrial feel. Then suddenly, it releases a spasm of shiny egg-like balls that float and roll and disperse in gravity-defying direction. These movements connect well with the theme of the MTV brand it portrays – the MTV viewer as a cool, colorful, fish-out-of-water type. Motion (OK and sound a little bit too) communicates this message.

Using motion as a vehicle for artistic message is not new – kinetic art has been around since the 1910s. A few weeks ago I was in Basel, Switzerland (a fun phrase to casually throw in a blog post) and I saw a Jean Tinguely exhibit that featured some of his best kinetic art, including massive pieces like this one:

Jean Tinguely (B. 1925 in Fribourg, Switzerland) was a kinetic artist whose work was said to be a statement against the mass production of material goods. He uses basic industrial mechanics to deconstruct machines so they become creaking skeletons of their former selves – a carousel horse with no carousel, a car with no exterior, a series of jobless wheels and pulleys. The plodding rhythmic motion of the machine is a metaphor for the slow dismal march towards industrialization and standardization. Again, we see here that motion is the primary way the artist communicates his theme and message.

The work of Umeric Studios in some ways is a build on the work of Tinguely – both use motion and deconstructions of machines and objects to portray a message. Tinguely uses mechanical engineering technology; Umeric uses digital graphics technology. Tinguely was making a statement against commercialism; Umeric is a capitalist enterprise, using motion art techniques for branding purposes. Both have created beautiful imagery through motion, and I think demonstrate how some artistic trends can transcend both the high art world and the commercial art world.

Polaroid-ization

Facebook is a terrible and soul-wrenching time (and mind) suck – this we all know to be true. But indulge once in a while, with your social anthropologist’s hat on (mine is a Holmes-style deerstalker), and you can unearth some pretty interesting cultural trends amongst ‘friends’ and networks. [In fact, dear Facebook: instead of surreptitiously selling my data to advertisers and partner websites, why not give me more power to accumulate data and analytics on my own friends and network? Oh the creative things I could do with this information!...but I digress...]

One phenomena I have observed in my mini-feed lately is the plethora of Polaroid-style, sepia colored photographs proudly and artistically uploaded and shared by friends. This nostalgic photographic craze seems to parallel the rise of the camera-enabled smart phone, and in particular the iPhone. A popular iPhone app converts pictures taken with the phone’s camera into retro-style Polaroids. Here are some examples:

It’s not just smart-phone power users and geeky photographers who are adapting this aesthetic. Polaroid-ization has gone mainstream across many media types – for example, check out the newest music video from the indie pop band 'The Girls', who adapt the aesthetic to film. Major retailer J.Crew is currently featuring a Polaroid-inspired motif on their homepage. Polaroid, the company that actually started it all and incidentally filed for bankruptcy in 2001, recently launched a slick new website and is partnering with Lady Gaga to be their new ‘Creative Director and Brand Ambassador’.

If Lady Gaga is on-board, you know something very apropos is going on here.

So, as usual, this all begs the question – what does it mean? Why this incessant interest in reverting back to lo-tech – not just with photography, but also more broadly as an aesthetic? And, perhaps even more interestingly, what does it mean that we are creating and romanticizing this lo-tech, 'pure' aesthetic with high-tech digital devices?

To me, the rise of the Polaroid represents society’s current ambivalence towards the ascendancy of digital technology in the media space. It seems that almost all media we consume these days is digital or virtual, from photography to books to online video, even birthday invitations (evite, anyone?). We consume this media on our computers, ipads, kindles, ipods, smart phones….and so on. No doubt digitalization allows us to consume a lot of media very quickly, and also allows for very broad access - all very good things. But there is something important about holding a photograph in your hand, or experiencing the colors of a painting in person, or reading the words off a crisp white page that you can turn, mark, smell. Perhaps what digitalization is lacking is a sense of physical intimacy with images - experiencing an image with our complete range of senses and not just through an artificial, pixel-ated window. Our need for this intimacy could explain the rise of the Polaroid, in all its grainy, imperfect, physical glory. However, the sentiment and urge is not strong enough to drive us to actually revert back to the original low-tech devices with which these images were created - we want images and aesthetics that celebrate lo-tech authenticity, but are not willing to sacrifice the convenience, speed, or mass access of high-tech.

The tension between the benefits of digitalization (ease, speed, access) and its costs (a loss of authenticity and visual intimacy) will continue to build as technology advances - Polaroid-ization is just one example of a collective response to that tension. I’m sure we will see more, similar responses.

Keep your eyes on your mini-feed…

SF Moma: 75th Anniversary

Attention SF Readers!

This weekend the SF Moma celebrates its 75th Anniversary - admission is free! There are also a host of activities to enjoy, from gallery talks, to evening performances, to snacks from SF's top local food vendors (yes there will be Blue Bottle Coffee).

The Gap has also gotten in on the fun and partnered with Moma to create eight limited-addition T-shirts designed by local artists. Despite representing all things lame and mass marketed, Gap does a good job supporting non-profits and the local SF community - these shirts are a great way to raise awareness for the Moma, the arts, and the artists. My favorite is this abstract landscape design from artist Leslie Shows:

You can buy the Gap t-shirts here: http://sfmoma.stores.yahoo.net/gaptshirts.html

Yellow Bird Project

Do you like artsy t-shirts, and charity, and indie rock music? Me too. So do the creators of the Yellow Bird Project, a Montreal-based non profit that enlists indie music artists to design t-shirts and other merchandise that are then sold on the YBP website. Proceeds go to a charity of the musician/band's choice. What a wonderful ecosystem of charity, creativity, and cool gear.

Pictured below is a t-shirt designed by Rilo Kiley, one of my favorite indie bands. Proceeds from the sale of this shirt go to the Free Arts for Abused Children organization:

Visit and support the Yellow Bird Project at www.yellowbirdproject.com

The Artist's Drive

Perhaps you read the article in the New York Times this week about 94-year old Carmen Herrera. Herrera, a Cuban-born artist living in New York, has been doing abstract geometric painting for more than fifty years but has only started receiving praise and acclaim within the past five. Her story is not entirely uncommon – many great artists received no recognition or monetary reward for their work until after they were long dead. One could argue that it takes society decades to appreciate and understand a new style, or perhaps the posterity of death shines a new light on the work, making it instantly more intriguing. Whatever the reason, artists often don’t receive the kind of career affirmation that most of us need to stay motivated day after day, year after year.

So what drives the artist? What returns them to the canvas, to the drawing board? Well if you have ever known a true artist of any kind, be it painter, musician, or poet, you know that what motivates them is a pure love for the process and for their medium. From that moment when a flash of an idea comes into the mind, to the hours spent executing and experimenting, finding the right combination of colors, or words, to the deep satisfaction when a piece is completed and a vision is realized. Creativity cannot be catalyzed by external factors like money, or fame – it is a deep, internal desire to express oneself and to put form to a vision that allows the artist to create.

I am reminded of my first art teacher here in San Francisco, Susan. Susan is in her sixties and, like Herrera, has been painting for most of her life without much critical acclaim. She has a small gallery where she displays and sometimes sells her oil paintings, mostly French scenes depicting women in fabulous shoes, small Parisian dogs, and street life. Susan’s life, as I have come to learn about it, has taken many twists and turns. She moved to San Francisco from upstate New York when she was just seventeen; she worked in clothing boutiques and was swept up in the free-love culture. Throughout her life she struggled with money, men, and substances – but art was always a constant, and she never stopped painting, sketching, and creating, and eventually was able to establish her gallery.

Susan is a woman completed obsessed and dedicated to her work – it is her lifeblood, and when you hear her speak of it, you know she creates it entirely for herself. In fact, I have even seen her turn away interested customers from her gallery who did not seem like adequate parents for her paintings. What has kept her going all these years is not recognition from the art world, or wealth – it is the desire to paint the perfect woman’s hat, or to find the right shade of orange-red that will demonstrate the vibrancy of the Golden Gate bridge at dusk. You need this kind of spirit if you are going to survive as an artist – your motivation must be your love for the process, for your medium, and for your work. Perhaps if you are lucky you will receive some acclaim while you are still alive, like Herrera has. Or perhaps you will scrape together enough to have a small gallery. But above all your goal must be to continue the work each day, and be satisfied in that.

NYT article about Herrera: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/20/arts/design/20herrera.html

Ork City Neighborhood Posters

I've seen these Ork City Neighborhood posters in a couple of stores and online, and think they are very cool. Maps are always fun, and these posters are an artsy take. Plus, as most city-dwellers know, neighborhood is EVERYTHING. I would hang this in a home office or bedroom.

There are versions for most "major" cities, including New York (Brooklyn and Manhattan), Boston, Portland, Chicago, Washington D.C., and Los Angeles. To purchase visit http://www.orkposters.com

Artist Review: Rex Ray

One local San Francisco artist that I enjoy is Rex Ray. Ray has been doing graphic design, canvas, and collage work since the early 1990s. Inspired early in his career by music, he started off doing posters and CD covers for bands such as The Rolling Stones, Radiohead, and Bjork. Over time his work evolved and now he is best known for his large abstract canvas and collage pieces. I first saw Ray’s work on calendars and note cards at Chronicle Books. His colors, forms, and textures immediately inspired me.

Ray’s colors are unexpected and thoughtfully juxtaposed. A deep, cerulean blue next to a hot pink – colors that in isolation might seem tacky, or jarring, but together appear modern. The colors are what initially draw you into his pieces – they radiate, and I would imagine if they were hanging in a gallery or museum, they would dominate the room.

Secondly, Ray’s use of form and negative space is interesting. Mimicries of natural objects, he repeats egg-like ovals, waves, and plant like branches. Many of his pieces seem like blown-up images from a microscope, perhaps bacteria or cell structures.

A third inspired element in Ray’s work is his use of texture – he uses wood textures frequently, as well as rough brush strokes and sponge-like impressions. The visible texture reminds the viewer that although these works are graphic and modern, seemingly digital, they are in fact handmade and rooted in a craftsman style.

Ray has been quoted as saying his mission is simply to “create beautiful things” – this approach makes his work fairly accessible to the masses, a combination of fine art and “applied art”. Which is exactly what I love about it – beautiful pieces that are interesting on a variety of levels, but are also aesthetically pleasing enough to hang unobtrusively in your home. Crate & Barrel agrees, and has carried some of Ray’s pieces in their stores and catalogue.

See more of Rex Ray’s works at http://www.gallery16.com/index.php?page=artists&artist=rr&rex_medium=collage