(EN/FR) Up and Coming South Korean Multi-Disciplinary Female Artist, Suki Seokyeong Kang (강서경)



강서경 / Suki Sukyeong Kang is an interdisciplinary artist whose works, at a glance show a merging of many objects or source material from Korean history and tradition with novel, artistic interpretation. Deeper, it’s her interpretation of the modern, developing world using material from the world that’s existed before.

When I first encountered the art works of Korean artist Suki Kang’s at Pace Gallery last week, I was admittedly confused. I liked them: her hand of materials and choices of color were unique, and being Korean, I also wanted to be supportive of a Korean artist who had her art being exhibited in one of the most powerful, international galleries (still uncommon in 2021….) but I felt I needed to understand the meaning behind them if I were to really be able to appreciate her pieces; “there must be meaning behind her process…. I can’t just be looking at threads and circles and holed metallic cylinders…”

Intrigued, I picked up this book, Black Mat Oriole, which was initially printed for her first major art show in the US in 2018, with the Institute of Contemporary Art, to learn of her process. It’s opened me up to the world of her head, and I am looking back to the art I saw with renewed interest, and a deep desire to spend more time with her art once I get the chance.

From this book, I’ve gathered she is interested in these motifs and questionings: our bodies’ places in the world, hand (by this, I mean craft, touch, materiality), industrialization > modernization > globalization, the limitations of movement (physical and figurative – like our individual freedom figurative), heritage, dance, poetry, literature, the meaning of the grid, material tradition, the symbolism behind weights and measurements.


Some cool material used for her art (steeped in Korean heritage!): 

화문석 Hwamunseok

a traditional Korean mat woven with a specific white rush, this mat has a special nod to our history (1800s) as there was a dance conventionally performed for the royal court then, featuring one dancer who would dance within the boundaries of the Hwamunseok). She creates performances with these and also orchestrates the placement and positioning of these mats, beyond the initial designs to convey other, specific ideas.

정간보 Jeongganbo

a Korean musical notation style developed in the Joseon Dynasty that distinctively communicates duration and pitch – she used this material to inform and construct patterns on her mat work. 

한지 Hanji

traditional handmade Korean paper



As I am always very interested in the physical process of an artist, here are some details on how much work and sweat goes behind her works:

“Each mat is produced following a design by Kang and takes approximately one month to complete’ it’s completed with Kang’s hand as she adds threaded graphic patterns onto the died and woven mat as a final touch.” The woven mats (Hwamunseok) are produced with female artisans of Ganghwa Island in the Northern South Korea.

The threadwork woven over her metal cylindrical objects art takes around 3 months for Suki Seokyeong Kang to weave by hand. 

Narrow Meadow — Oriole #18-01, 2011-2018
Assembled units: Painted steel, thread, tree trunk, wooden wheels
Approx. 140 × 39 × 38.5 cm
Photograph: Constance Mensh

En Francais

J’ai décrouvis l’artiste Coréen Suki Seokyeong Kang à Pace, et au début, j’étais confus. J’aimais ses oeuvres, sa technique avec des matériaux et sa choix de couleur, et comme un Coréen, je voulais soutenir un artiste qui était Coréen, mais c’était difficile pour moi de les adorer, puis j’ai décidé de rechercher son processus et acheté ce livre. Il m’ouvert a son monde, et je regarde son art a nouveau avec un intérêt ranimé. 

Elle est un artiste interdisciplinaire, dont les oeuvres, d’un seul coup d’œil montrent un mariage des matériaux provenu de l’histoire et la tradition Coréen avec une interprétation artistique. À un niveau plus profond, ces sont ses interprétations sur la monde moderne développant, utilisant des matériaux de la monde qui a existé auparavant

De ce livre, je suppose que cet motifs et questionnements l’intéressent: les places de nos corps dans la monde, la matérialité, l’industrialisation, le patrimoine, la danse, la poésie, la littérature, la signification de la grille, les poids et mesures…

Arcmanoro Niles, Figurative Painter and American Art’s Next Heavyweight

I’m really excited about the talent of this artist.
Arcmanoro Niles is a D.C. born and Brooklyn based artist. He is represented by Gallery Lehmann Maupin.

I saw his paintings in person recently for the first time, and I was initially very struck by all the pink and the glitter canvassing every painting. Once my eyes adjusted to this, time had given way to a deep feeling of appreciation for the beauty he redefined and created.

His portraits are invitation.

He explores identity, the things we hold in our private space (people, home, hidden desires) and memory in ways that come out as quite elegant, dignified, intimate, and slightly Johnny Bravo throwback emoji.

“A lot of my references come from old family photos or pictures I take myself with my cell phone or a point or shoot camera. I’m always thinking about how the painting will come out to the viewer so I use quite a bit of reflective paints and shiny materials like glitter. But I think that, at the end of the day, I am a painter who is interested in color and stories that talk about who we are. Little moments that give us a glimpse into what life feels like.” – Arcmanoro Niles

In every painting is included a Seeker, little spindly– some with mischievous bent– characters painted in dark color close to the canvas’ margins.

The Seeker signifies a human desire of the lesser kind. These symbolisms juxtaposed with the virtuous renderings of the people in his paintings invites the viewer to look deeper.

Some things I immediately took away from the paintings of Arcmanoro Nile’s style:

Despite the intimacy of the home or his subjects’ state of dress, Niles paints each with a grace and regalness– similar to how Kehinde Wiley paints the character of his subjects.

He’s a glitter guy.

He paints skin so beautifully: The color of the skin of the people in his life he painted was absolutely striking. What from afar would appear as a light brown skin tone, is skin painted on with a multitude of colors. And the result glistened.

How did Arcmanoro Niles become an artist?

As a kid, he would always be drawing, and this eventually took him to an art high school, Duke Ellington— all was natural progression. He’d then find himself watching a movie of Caravaggio one day in class which would be a source of inspiration for how he would continue on to paint his subjects and treated light.

Influence and process behind Arcmanoro Niles’ art

He’s really interested in color and the color of skin. In a former lecture, Niles says even the colors in the backgrounds of his paintings are made with consideration for making the skin look better. Having recently graduated undergraduate and graduate art school, he references his experience at art school; in the things they were studying, he didn’t see any African Americans in paintings nor were Black artists, people like him, included in studies. That component is a source of meaning for him as an active artist.

Coupled with his desire to highlight African Americans and his heritage more and naturally, the whole interest behind his practice is beautiful.

He is fascinated by color and is interested in the oppositional qualities of color, and often asks himself how to not lose any color in the painting he is rendering.

On indirect painting

“when you have two colors, if you have the orange, and then I put red on top of that, and then if I go over the red with a yellow thinly, it kind of creates a third color. But if I do that with three colors and they are all very saturated, then it will keep on making more colors, and that’s sort of what gives it [the painting] the glow.”

Arcmanoro had his first solo show on the West Coast at the UTA Artist Space. I feel like it’s only a matter of time before Niles has his own show at the MoMA, Whitney, or New Museum.

I’m really excited for that day.


Hey Tomorrow, Do You Have Some Room For Me: Failure Is A Part Of Being Alive runs through August 28, 2021 at Lehmann Maupin Gallery, 536 West 22nd St., NY, NY

To follow his Instagram and journey, click here.

To see art that spans the breadth of his youth (from his high school years to — now) you can get glimpses of them here.

Musings on Material & the Presentation of Art by Carol Bove

The first time I encountered Brooklyn-based artist Carol Bove’s works was at David Zwirner Gallery almost 6 years ago.

She was making a very different kind of sculpture art then (see Polka Dots), but was still working with transforming steel and using paint to facilitate a part of its manipulation.

What follows are photos from her recent exhibition, Chimes at Midnight, at David Zwirner Gallery, W20th Street (running through June 18, 2021) and excerpts from her conversations with art historian Johanna Burton and art curator Phillip Kaiser:

Johanna: Again, pervasive narratives around large-scale metal sculpture usually foreground a kind of battle of wills behind the maker and the material, with, in the end, the maker wrangling the material into a certain configuration. It seems that what you’re talking about is more of a discursive or dialogic dance, where you’re showing an innate quality of the material in a form that is not usually seen. And this negotiation enables different ways of thinking about that process. You do leave certain subtle hints about the process that I think are interesting, such as the use fo bolts and the seams that are produced from welding. There’s a very different logic or purpose in deciding whether to put things together with a bolt or through welding.

Carol: Yes, you can see the decision-making most in the connections. There’s some sort of narrative to either decision too. When parts are welded, it is an instance of two pieces of the same type of material being melted together along a seam. When parts are bolted together, it is a temporary and reversible connection. Bolting is a more erotic relationship because one discrete entity penetrates the other. I tend to choose the mechanical connection when I’m bringing two different materials together. There are reasons for breaking this rule, but in general, if I’m connecting a highly polished, fabricated element to a matte, manipulated tube element, then I could use a bolt. The bolt underscores the way these two elements sit uneasily together, that they can’t be reconciled. 

Johanna: So you’re allowing the distinction but forcing the union.

Carol: Yes, and these connections are very erotic. Just as two people can be fully sympathetic and sexually engaged, they are never going become a single person. There will always be difference.

Johanna: And there’s a kind of violence to it?

Carol: There’s violence to it, and desire. The connections have all the pull for me.

Phillip: Are you talking about the fictional nature of any presentation of art?

Carol: Right. That’s how we know something is a sculpture, because in the context of art it’s bracketed out of the world of regular objects. But, because I’m putting a lot of work into this dimension of display, it’s like putting a bracket around the bracket, so you can look directly at the framing devices.

Phillip: This makes me think of your MoMA exhibition a few years ago titled The Equinox, where you included a large riser that elevated and unified various sculptures. Does this presentation form elevate them in a different state? 

Carol: I think when something is on a pedestal, especially a big pedestal, we imagine that it’s in a different type of space. It’s qualitatively different, as if it were a live broadcast on television. There’s a belief that the pedestal space isn’t real in the same way that something in “our” space is. Part of my ongoing play with pedestals and display strategies is to understand how that language works and what it means. How much of its meaning is from convention and how much from physical poetry? It seems very much to be about ontology: is this thing on display real? If it’s real, in what way is it real, and to what degree?

Johanna:… How do you listen to the material in a way that feels more like a dialogue and less an exertion of will? Or maybe you disagree with that.

Carol: No, I agree. I want to find out what stainless steel does, what its qualities are. We think stainless steel is hard and strong, and I’m wondering if this is really the case. Is there a gentle and persistent way to act on it so that it will behave differently? Can it be tricked into showing a different side? Under what conditions is it soft and supple? I never force the material to do something it doesn’t want to do. I let it lead me as much as I lead it. I’m invested in an improvisational process where I’m making and solving a puzzle simultaneously.

I also imagine a mirror effect on perception, where the material’s plasticity acts on the imagination. What we know about the material is contradicted, so maybe our grip on reality should be a little lighter, too, enabling us to see what is in front of us rather than only what we think we see. 

Johanna: what are the conditions that render the material supple?

Carol: It has to do with the way I prepare the tubes, by pressing them with a series of differently shaped tools that we make specifically for this purpose. 

JB: Can you say more about that? In the resulting works, the material looks so distinct from how we ordinarily conceive it, rendering the process a mystery. In discussions with you, you don’t take the pains to hide the process, but if a viewer simply encounters the finished object, how it is produced can feel kind of magical.

Carol: Right. We use a hydraulic press to start bending and massaging the tubes, and then we pull the bends closed using a chain-hoist system. Through this process of manipulations, the geometry of the steel becomes very complex, making the tube seem more like fabric, or something with a softer texture. It takes some patience, and my ability to manipulate the tubes has developed over a few years.  

I think it’s interesting how incidental the illusionism is. I leave a lot of evidence of the work’s construction, and you can even come to the studio to see the tubes being manipulated. But in the end the labor is invisible, and in some way the tubes don’t look fully real.

Reflecting on My Life with Christina Baker Kline’s a piece of the world and Andrew Wyeth’s Christina’s World

I was inspired to read this poem by Emily Dickinson after finishing a piece of the world by Christina Baker Kline:

Learning From The Homes Of Famous Writers

“This is my letter to the World that never wrote to me”

“This is My Letter to the World”, goes like this:

This is my letter to the world,
That never wrote to me,–
The simple news that Nature told,
With tender majesty.
Her message is committed
To hands I cannot see;
For love of her, sweet countrymen,
Judge tenderly of me!

Kline’s a piece of the world revolves around the life of Christina Olson, the subject of Andrew Wyeth’s most renowned masterpiece, Christina’s World (you can find it at the Museum of Modern Art, 5th fl). Margaret Steiger, a fellow peer and art lover, also my supervisor at MoMA!, recommended me this book as she knew how much I loved Christina’s World.

Christina suffered from a life long illness (initially thought as having polio, modern day neurologists believe she actually suffered from Charcot-Marie Tooth (CMT) disease, which causes progressive loss of muscle tissue and touch sensation) that started to render the nerves in her arms and legs pretty much kaput as she entered adulthood.

In this novel, the character Christina (will now move forward referring to novel’s character as ‘Christina’ and the real Christina as ‘Christina Olson’), coming into her teenage years, and with a body severely limited in movement from the effects of a mysterious illness’ onset at toddler-hood, begins to develop a curiosity and ferocity of mind, and this coincides with her discovery and subsequent exploration of Emily Dickinson’s words at school.

Excerpts

“I agree. Rest is stupid. I am tired of this narrow bed, the slice of window above it. I want to be outside, running through the grass, climbing up and down the stairs. When I fall asleep, I am careering down the hill, my arms outstretched and my strong legs pumping, grasses whipping against my calves, steady on toward the sea, closing my eyes and tilting my chin toward the sun, moving with ease, without pain, without falling. I wake in my bed to find the sheet damp with sweat.”


“MRS. CROWLEY TOLD me once—the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me—that I’m one of the brightest students she’s ever taught. Long before the others, I have finished my reading and arithmetic. She’s always giving me extra work to do and books to read. I appreciate the compliment, but maybe if I could run and play like the other kids, I would be as impatient and distracted as they are. The truth is, when I’m immersed in a book I’m less aware of the pain in my unpredictable arms and legs.”


“I’m so tired of this mutinous body that doesn’t move the way it should. Or the low thrumming ache that’s never entirely absent. Of having to concentrate on my steps so I don’t fall, of my ever-present scabs and bruises. I’m tired of pretending that I’m the same as everyone else. But to admit what it’s really like to live in this skin would mean giving up, and I’m not ready to do that.”


“’Some memories are realities and are better than anything that can ever happen to one again.” Maybe so, I think. Maybe my memories of sweeter times are vivid enough, and present enough, to overcome the disappointments that followed. And to sustain me through the rest.'”


“My chin drips blood, my wrists throb, I am facedown in the wet, soiled dress it took me weeks to sew. The skirt is bunched up round my hips, my bloomers and misshapen legs exposed. Lifting myself slowly on my elbows, I survey my torn bodice. All at once I am so tired of this—of the constant threat of humiliation and pain, the fear of exposure, of trying to act like I’m normal when I’m not—that I burst into tears. No, I am not all right, I want to say. I am fouled, degraded, ashamed. A burden and an embarrassment.”

On Christina’s first experience with love:

“It feels as if my life is moving forward at two separate speeds, one at the usual pace, with its predictable rhythms and familiar inhabitants, and the other rushing ahead, a blur off color and sound and sensation.”


Reflecting on Christina’s World

I have felt a deep connection with Christina’s World, ever since I first encountered Christina’s World as a university student.

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The work is an incredible sight and experience; numerous people from all over the world will tell you so as well: painted is a young, youthful girl, in stark contrast against the muted landscape of a field and barn/farmhouse. Your eyes settle intensely on the seemingly feeble, yet remarkably dignified, stoic, and bold girl in pink dress.cri_000000165457

Personal Reflections

I was very sick when I was 13 and in my teenage years. The utter prison I felt like I was in, of not being able to wield my body at will, not being able to do things other kids do nor be carefree was a formative experience in my youth.

Thinking about my future was scary.

The picture my mind drew of my life was monstrous; It was only filled with more ifs, doubts and and despondence from wondering whether I’d ever be able to live the life I wish I had instead of living through it with a body I abhorred.

The memories do not go away easily //

Having to stay a couple nights in the St. Judes hospital deprived of sleep and watching Shakespeare in Love and The Man in the Iron Mask with my mother who bravely tried to stay awake with me and laid on a cot bed by me.

Stubbornly demanding and begging I get my license like all my other high school friends and be allowed to drive with my parents in car, and my father finally relenting, only to find myself losing control of the wheel, with my foot off the pedal and my hands fallen to their sides [and off the wheel] one day driving my family.

Crossing the road, beginning to feel time slow, seeing my dad not far behind me running to catch me before I blacked out.


I was engaged with this painting before I had learned of its background story and the life of Christina Olson.

Looking at her was as if I were seeing myself. Or seeing what I’d have liked to see in myself back then: a portrait of strength, boldness, and ferocity– dignified living.

I stood staring at her for a very long time.

And I’d come back to it again, and again, and again. As if I was drinking from a well.

Fast forward to 2020, having finished this book, which was a light and lovely spin-off and depiction of Christina Olson’s life, I find myself glad to be seeing Christina again, anew.

More Excerpts

“The House of the Seven Gables. ‘So much of mankind’s varied experience had passed there that the very timbers were oozy, as with the moisture of a heart.’”


Andrew Wyeth & Christina Olson:

“‘ I wanted to show the contrast with your skin. To highlight you sitting there.’

Now that we’re having this conversation, I realize that I am a little angry. ‘I look like I’m in a coffin with a lid half shut.’

He laughs a little, as he can’t believe I might be upset.

I stare at him evenly.

Running his hand through his hair, he says, ‘I was trying too show your…’ He hesitates. ‘Dignity. Solemnity.’

‘Well, I guess that’s the problem. I don’t think of myself as solemn. I didn’t think you did, either.’

‘I don’t. Not really. It’s just a moment. And it’s not really ‘you.’ Or ‘me.’ Despite what you think.’ His voice trails off. Seeing me struggle with the heavy oven door, he comes over and opens its for me, then slides the baking tray of biscuits in. ‘I think it’s about the house. The mood of it.’ He shuts the oven door. ‘Do you know what I mean?’

‘You make its seem so…’ I cast about for the right word. ‘I don’t know Lonely.’

He sighs. ‘Isn’t it, sometimes?’

For a moment there’s silence between us.

I reach for a dishrag and wipe my floury hands.

‘So how do you think of yourself?’ he asks.

‘What?’

‘You said you don’t think of yourself as solemn. So how do you think of yourself?’

It’s a good question. How do I think of myself?

The answer surprises us both.

‘I think of myself as a girl,’ I say.”


“EVERY WEEK OR ten days a thick letter in a white envelope with a two-cent stamp arrives in the mail. He writes from the library, from the dining hall, from the narrow wooden desk in his dormitory room, by the light of a gas lamp after his rugby-playing, gin-guzzling roommate has gone to sleep. Each envelope, a package of words to feed my word-hungry soul, provides a portal into a world where students linger in wood-paneled classrooms to talk to professors, where entire days can be spent in a library, where what you write and how you write it are all you need to worry about. I imagine myself in his place: strolling across campus, peering up at thick-paned, glowing windows at dusk, going to expensive dinners with friends in Harvard Square, where the waiters wear tuxedos and look down their noses at the unkempt students, and the students don’t care.”

Jean Jullien at Studio Concrete

 

 

For more details of the studio gallery, check it out here.

To follow Jean Jullien’s artwork, check out his Instagram

I’ve written about my admiration for this artist here in a post extolling him as the Houdini of Illustrators and again here, featuring a kinky erotic illustration video created in collaboration with his brother!

Best Works of Helmut Newton, “King of Kink”

Helmut Newton is a photographer best known for his erotica fueled snapshots and a taste for capturing fun… stripped bare. He was regarded by many as the “King of Kink” and you can go back to so many issues of Vogue easily with his indelible footprint.

 

U.S. Vogue May 1993, “White Mischief”

 

Here are a couple of my favorite works from this talented German Australian:

 

 

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Woman Examining Man, 1975 for U.S. Vogue

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Nice, 1976

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Unfaithful

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Cruising From Behind

 

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While I don’t appreciate all his works, I do truly think he was the best of his kind for what he did.

There is so much life and mischief captured through a single portrait– he did it so well.

 

33 black-and-white photographs—framed, signed, and numbered—on sale this month at Guy Regal’s showroom in the New York Design Center. Open to the public today.

Saying Something: Toyin Ojih Odutola

 

Say hello to the newest heavy-weight in portraiture, Toyin Ojih Odutola.

I first became acquainted with this Nigerian artist’s work during a run at the galleries in Chelsea a couple years ago. I remember being so viscerally struck by her drawings that day. They were white pencil on white paper– I had to lower my body and kneel closer to the ground to see what the drawings held. It was a moving experience to encounter the fullness of these white identities she drew out for the appraiser– very controlled and calculated.

I’ve since become fascinated by the unique mark-making techniques she employs.

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Imagine a big drawing like this, except everything was white on white.

 

The Brooklyn based artist uses whirls and lots of hairy (really that’s what it looks like in person: the wispiest of wispy hairs) detailing to create rich visual narratives that surround her already deeply contextualized subjects. If you look at her artwork in person, you’ll see all the swirls and membrane-like pieces that make up the sum of a composition of faces, bodies, and identities– so much integrity and thought put to paper face via graphite, charcoal, or pastel:

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Toyin toys with anything from discussions on natural identity to more poignant POVs on say, racial profiling.

 

I’m happy to share that Toyin Ojih Odutola will be holding her first solo exhibit at The Whitney Museum this month, a commission that is well deserved by this outspoken wunderkind.

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Pregnant, 2017

 

Check out her upcoming show, To Wander Determined, at The Whitney Museum of American Art on 99 Gansevoort St., open to the public from October 20th.

I can’t wait to see it.

 

Italian Artist Gehard Demetz, my modern day Geppetto.

Formally trained in religious sculpture, Italian artist Gehard Demetz has progressed to become one of the most talented artists of our century. He wields his art technique and experience to create works, many with children as subject, that explore the dichotomies and marriages of contradiction… between that which is evocative and whimsical – provocative and contemporary. His sculptures often carry an energy verging on the socio-political.

He relies on mediums like wood and bronze and certainly knows how to make dry wood come alive.

These are my favorite works of Demetz throughout his career as a sculptor:

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Introjection. 2017, Wood

 

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Life Without Christmas. 2017, Wood

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Dirt on my Shoulders. 2016, Wood

 

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Restoring My Blisses. 2015, Wood.

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My Parents’ Stories Sound Different. 2015, Wood.

 

Personally, I would say his best works were made in 2013.

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Stones In My Pocket. 2013, Wood.

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Mom’s hands and daddy’s nose. 2013, wood.

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Complement these visuals with a contemplative rendition of Bach’s Christus, Der Uns Selig Macht, BWV 245, arranged by one of my favorite composers and pianists, Chad Lawson.

Jean Jullien and the Allure of Abstraction

 

Sometimes, I like to see art because of the intrinsic beauty found in its execution of artistic virtues such as meticulous detailing or loyalty to realism, and other times, I appreciate the way it expands the boundaries of my capabilities for imagination.

In the name of art of the latter form, see here a short film:

The Coward – Statues, explores moral permissiveness and embarks on an abstract discourse on primitive attraction– the beauties or rather, curiosities involved in all that’s mating, lust, love, and sex.

Directed by  the estimable illustrator, Jean Jullien, and his brother, Nicolas Jullien.

 

*not for the monastic hearted*

Freaky, maybe. Questionable, yes. Beautiful, too.

 

I appreciate a man with a great imagination.

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Check out some of Jean’s saleable works here!

 

 

 

 

Bises,

Soo

Osamu Yokonami: Is it About the Journey or the Destination?

Osamu Yokonami is a Japanese artist and photographer based in Tokyo who devotes his lenses to the development of photographs contemplating homogeneity. His group portraitures are regarded for invoking notions about identity, the collective, naturality, and youth.

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Could be wrong, but pretty sure this is the photo that first pulled me to Yokanami.

I first became acquainted with Yokonami’s works at De Soto Gallery’s exhibition at the 2015 PULSE Art Fair in New York. His “Assembly” series was on display that day, and it most piqued my interest out of the swarms of art set out for many an art viewer’s purveyance. I ended up finding myself walking back to that booth section multiple times that Saturday afternoon, and since then, I’ve been  following Yokonami’s activities for nearly two years now (that’s what good art does to you peeps).

I find pleasure  in the idyllic qualities and the strange calm surrounding the odd  symmetries of his photographs- unsettling, a little disconcerting, and also very beautiful.

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I don’t really know what exactly I feel when I see his photographs, it doesn’t remove me and it doesn’t forcefully push me to a place where I’m aggressively thinking about an issue, a topic, or a stance.

Yokonami invites us to dwell on the journey for truth rather than the desination, I think. Or that’s what I feel.

The closest description I could put in regards to Yokonami’s effect on me is that his works put me in a deliberate state of an “in between” (As I see it, my mind occupies at this moment of seeing a super charged space with elements ie. high stimulation + calm + little sparkly little things firing everywhere in harmonious and  purposeful direction, but I can’t really determine the end of where they’re going (not sure there’s supposed to be one, or if that’s the even the point/goal)). I feel curiosity seeing his works and pondering on them is an experience beatific.

Scroll through his series of 100×2 photos of female children posed with fruits (apples and oranges) on their shoulders– and you’ll feel something too I bet.

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Personalities and energies of the children I found myself gravitating towards –felt increasingly in this descending order.

Bises,

Soo

Rene Magritte & the Terror of Blind Love

Painted by acclaimed French surrealist, Rene Magritte, The Lovers or Les Amants portrays the busts of two lovers in embrace, each face clothed and masked by a thick, opaque cloth.

Visual aids are emblems of the two lovers’ intimacy fiercely in consummate display, an intimacy that can be seen burgeoning with beautiful and quiet desperation. A feeling of being overcome by love shines brightly, albeit momentarily, until a much stronger and gripping undercurrent of detachment takes the focal point of our gaze, carrying all of its severity, with white cloth acting as catalyst.

The mid to dark-tone colorways that Magritte employs are subtle and unobtrusive enough to service also in the detachment between viewer and art subject.

Our gaze is swept off-kilter. We survey upon the scene of the lovers’ embrace as if looking one meter too far from that which is necessary to obtain maximum impact.

“Blindness”

 

Anxiety Creeps in,

Despair Prevails.

 

Too often we desperately seek to carry on a love stillborn.

Jean Jullien, I dub thee my Houdini of Illustrations

I’m an avid supporter of the arts, and for illustrations, Jean Jullien is my favorite artist for them by far.

The French artist’s claim to fame would arguably be at least for most public records, his impromptu illustration of the Eiffel Tower peace symbol in response to the terror attacks in France in 2015; This symbol was subsequently appropriated and propagated by every major and minor media outlet.

Might I also add that I had the pleasure of meeting him in New York that same year at a JUXTAPOZ Newstand Booth in the middle of Times Square? My right hand got to shake with his right hand. It was wonderful, although I regret to say that said hand has since been washed.
Jean Jullien manages to seamlessly blend light humor with real, and sometimes hard life truths, bringing light into the doldrums of life — the happenstances and practical things we get used to seeing and experiencing. He is quickly becoming a veritable influencer, a modern-day wizard, who injects lots of hope and much needed truths into the world.

Here’s a recent work of his depicting the #realreal of city life, specially selected for my fellow New Yorkers:

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“I’ve always thought that the race to reach/build/own the tallest building in the city had something of a “male organ” contest. It’s all about erecting the furthest into the air. I can’t draw a male erection so instead I’ll draw a proud & symbolic NASAL ERECTION.”

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(Left to right) Window Pane #1: “This is a very king of the castle kind of view. The one you want to wake up with every morning. For some reason doing it naked seems appropriate. Sort of like ‘I’m so powerful that i don’t have to wear pants…’ But you’d probably have to on the off chance that you have a less ambitious/more old-fashioned/prude/underaged/not as physically gifted neighbor who’d want to report you for indecency.                                                           Window Pane #2: “But it’s also a very ‘Movie Villain” kind of view, a typical Lex Luthoresque kind of view (if such a term exists– if not it should). Whenever I stumble in a room with such a baller view, I automatically walk to the window and put my hands behind my back & mumble something mischievous like “this is my city and soon they will understand and pay for their price of disobedience…’ but my rise to power pretty much stop there…”        Window Pane #3: “More realistically I feel that this is a more appropriate picture of what I’d look like if I ever end up living in a room with a view like that…An old disgruntled curmudgeon, bittered by a laborious life of hard work to get to the top of the world to only realize that you’re too old and saggy to pull that performance described two windows to your left.”

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Bises,

Soo