Glen Zazove
The Flux and the Puddle by David Altmejd
I usually shy away from re-photographing works of art, but will make an exception for this astounding, room-sized, three-dimensional installation at the Musee National Beaux-Arts Du Quebec called “The Flux and the Puddle” by David Altmejd. My 2D photo of just one side cannot begin to do it justice. Here is the description from the museum’s website:
“Seen by the artist as a summing up of various styles and different figures and aesthetics running through his protean work for almost the past twenty years, this immense plexiglas architecture, inhabited by werewolves, giants and body-builders, is like a “museum within a museum.” Riddled with references to art history and run through with backwards glances at Altmejd’s previous work, this masterwork, a complex maelstrom of materials whose fusion has not yet exhausted their potential, creates a sense of energy that is difficult to describe. Even the space is modified by the density of the work.”
The Flux and the Puddle by David Altmejd
I usually shy away from re-photographing works of art, but will make an exception for this astounding, room-sized, three-dimensional installation at the Musee National Beaux-Arts Du Quebec called “The Flux and the Puddle” by David Altmejd. My 2D photo of just one side cannot begin to do it justice. Here is the description from the museum’s website:
“Seen by the artist as a summing up of various styles and different figures and aesthetics running through his protean work for almost the past twenty years, this immense plexiglas architecture, inhabited by werewolves, giants and body-builders, is like a “museum within a museum.” Riddled with references to art history and run through with backwards glances at Altmejd’s previous work, this masterwork, a complex maelstrom of materials whose fusion has not yet exhausted their potential, creates a sense of energy that is difficult to describe. Even the space is modified by the density of the work.”