Just some FANTASTIC shots of the completed Version 2.0 by Jafe Parsons. Careful — you might get awesome on ya.
Happily, got in some saddle time b4 the gawdam wind kicked up again. Hello smoke cloud my old friend It sucks to be breathing you again . . .
#mtb #ride #openspace #bicicleta
Went for a #ride this morning at Soapstone Prairie. Such a beautiful, unforgiving landscape. The Wyoming border is maybe half a mile down that trail.
I have been utilizing the welding process in making my sculptures for 30 years. It is a straightforward, effective method for joining metal together—but there are some downsides. Biggest of these is the warping that occurs from the adding of heat; second is the aesthetic requirement of dressing the welds. Grinding and finishing out the weld beads and the associated discoloration around them (chasing) is time-consuming and, frankly, painful. I've experimented in the past with alternative methods of joining parts, like here:
“Breakfast with Tiffany” - rivets!
I thought I'd try using rivets to assemble a larger piece, and "Interwoven" seemed like a great candidate, as warping and chasing out the welds on this beast would be bad. Very bad.
This did end up translating into many, many more hours of tedious design time on the computer—but that's the price for ART!!! I placed over 2000 paired holes into the model and designed a simple tab to span the seam where two parts meet.
A note for the geeks: this shape was generated parametrically with code in the Grasshopper plug-in for Rhinoceros, and is based on the famous strip of Mr. Moebius. The chief challenge here is determining just how to go about realizing this mathematical form; there is no "front" or "back" and the the inner edge becomes the outer, and vice versa. Add to that the way the "faces" weave through each other, and you have a real head-scratcher on your hands/brain.
Huh. Looks like I've forgotten to clue you in on just what the heck a "Terralogue Totem" is.
“Terralogue Totems” are a set of sculptural designs based on the concept of the land speaking; these messages being symbolized through metal emblems. The designs are executed in three distinct formats: large sculptural Monoliths, Bike Racks, and Bollards."
Maybe these little explanations we included on the plaques will help:
I've been working on another edition of my "Event Horizon" piece. The concept behind the sculpture has to do with the theorized existence of a gravitational border around a black hole beyond which nothing can escape. I wondered what it might look like to see something torn apart but not completely consumed by the black hole; what might the remnants look like as they were spun off into space? I thought it might be stylized into something like this:
Imagine my surprise when I stumbled across this video, showing a Red Giant star being ripped apart by a massive black hole at the center of a nearby galaxy:
That is pretty freakin' awesome, right there. The Daily Mail online has a pretty good article on what's going on here.
Got to hang out backstage at Red Rocks with the cool kids from Devotchka. Wow, chapter 1.
Followed that up with a trip to the Denver Botanic Gardens to check out the Chihuly glass work there. Amazeballs.
Thank you, Steve.
, originally uploaded by
A fantastic piece in a stunning space. I’d love to make it to France to check this out.
Co & Isa’s photostream contains some of the best shots I’ve seen of Kapoor’s new knockout.
More info here.
"The advice I like to give young artists, or really anybody who’ll listen to me, is not to wait around for inspiration. Inspiration is for amateurs; the rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself. Things occur to you. If you’re sitting around trying to dream up a great art idea, you can sit there a long time before anything happens. But if you just get to work, something will occur to you and something else will occur to you and somthing else that you reject will push you in another direction. Inspiration is absolutely unnecessary and somehow deceptive. You feel like you need this great idea before you can get down to work, and I find that’s almost never the case."
I've been spinning in place a bit. On a whim, I tried dipping into Brian Eno's Oblique Strategies for a little inpiration, and the message was "Retrace your steps." I wandered back through the timeline of my experiences as an artist, and arrived at the time when I had first fallen in love with the computer as a creative tool. I was using my Apple Macintosh LC, and had installed a program called "Canvas" that had an unbelievable set of both vector and pixel tools. I remember the clean, infinitely-tweakable lines (command-Z, how I love thee!) that I could use to make drawings. I wish I'd managed to save some of that stuff so we could have a good laugh.
Anyway, like any proper geek, I have a dual-boot system with Vista and Ubuntu. Part of my inertia has been related to frustration with the constant pull of new and newly-upgraded software, especially the heaps of cash involved. Thus the appeal of Ubuntu - and of Inkscape thereon. Inkscape is, IMO, the best Open Source software available. I own a license of Adobe Illustrator, and DREAD opening that bloated behemoth - Inkscape doesn't have the depth of tools, but that's the point. It is a streamlined Illustrator driven by the needs of the user rather than the need of a corporation to sell licenses and upgrades. Another contrast comes from my involvement in 3d modeling - it just starts to feel like the means are so involved that the ends often seem off in the foggy distance. Vector drawing brings the immediacy of making marks on paper to the computer, while still allowing amazing control over the process.
I understand that part of the point of this piece was to call attention to the massive amounts of waste we in the developed world produce, and to highlight the ephemeral essence of all the "stuff" we strive so hard to acquire. Gormley is one of my favorite sculptors - but this kind of condescending spectacle has definitely lowered his esteem in my eyes. Why exacerbate the very problems you are hoping to solve?
This brings up a point that bugs me no end regarding my own choice of method and material: how to reconcile the obvious environmental crisis-in-progress and my part in it with my (and our culture's) need to create and express. Is Gormley's monstrous cloud of smoke any worse in the end than the unseen multiple such clouds emanating from the iron mine, the steel mill, the tractor-trailer delivering the raw material for MY sculptures? Finding a point of equilibrium that allows one to be in the world without accelerating it's destruction is probably the most profound and important question we all must ask ourselves as we venture into a new millennium.
What do you think?
I finally had the motivation to get professional photos of some of my recent small pieces. Happily, I happen to know a guy who is both a brilliant photographer and interested in my work - enough to want to work a trade. As I was importing the fruits of his labors into my computer, I realized that each and every image was beautiful. Thanks, Jafe.
I'm currently reading "Mind Wide Open" by Steven Johnson (his most known work is "Everything Bad is Good for You"). It's subtitled "Your Brain and the Neuroscience of Everyday Life". In it he cites the work of researcher Joseph LeDoux, who has found that the experience of danger actually follows two distinct pathways in the brain - one conscious and rational, the other unconscious and intuitive. The second pathway, dubbed the "Low Road", ends at the amygdala, which basically specializes in emotional response. This bifurcation is why you will find yourself suddenly frozen in place when you glimpse a very snake-like branch on the trail, before your cortex is able to analyze the much more high-resolution signal it receives and conclude that it's not a threat. It's very much a matter of bandwidth - the amygdala gets a very low-res version very quickly, while the cortex signal is slower but richer in content. Other studies show that our ability to apprehend the emotional states of others is handled much better by this brain sub-system as well - your immediate, intuitive reaction to someone's facial expression is much more accurate than the one settled on through your cortical deliberations. First thought, best thought.
This made me wonder if a person's predilection toward more sketchy, painterly artworks isn't somehow tied to this neurological phenomenon - we tend to think of it as a "gut reaction", but could it be that this is a function of the way our brains work? It's interesting to note that as we grow more knowledgeable about art, we tend to value works that embody a more spontaneous, less fussy visual style. Is this because we learn to trust our amygdala and depend less on our cerebral cortex - and it's greater complexity? To me, the whole purpose of art is to convey something universal about an individual, internal emotional state - what better part of the brain to utilize than the one that specializes in emotion?
"In my sculptures I transform powerful images into sculptures that interweave personal narrative, with social issues. Made from newspaper and tape, which I refer to as “social materials,” everybody can equally access these materials; I cover each sculpture in expressive and abstract graphite markings. The contrast between the methodical binding of materials and the abruptness of the mark making suggests physicality as sensual and destructive. The intimacy of the figures’ interaction is agitated by the presence of the viewer. I am interested in how the viewer relates to the sculptures as either participant or voyeur. With this juxtaposition, I seek to reveal the corporeal and mental boundaries of desire."
It's a rare and wonderful experience for me to find an artist's work that is utterly new to me and utterly spectacular. Ned Kahn's work makes me wonder why I bother - it's just that damn good. Mmmm, humble pie. My favorite.
Sometimes I feel really limited by the constraints of reality on my creativity. Trying to always figure out how to make something out of real-world materials can be a serious buzzkill. Inside my computer, though, I'm free to experiment and do things that would be impossible eldewhere. I use the amazing ZBrush to sculpt digitally what I can't make with my welder. Very fun.