View allAll Photos Tagged FionaBanner
The boat-shaped A Room for London winner, temporarily perched atop Queen Elizabeth Hall on the South Bank, shortly before being removed.
Named Le Roi des Belges after the boat in Heart of Darkness, the room for rent was designed by architect David Kohn and artist Fiona Banner, with the organisation Artangel for Living Architecture. It had panoramic views of the city, and was bookable for single nights only.
Black and white, shot with a Nikon D7000 and a Nikkor AFS DX 18-200mm F/3.5-5.6G lens, and processed in GIMP and Photoscape.
Fiona Banner, P E R I O D / Falcon 59400 pt, 2019 at Museum Voorlinden, Wassenaar
pienw.blogspot.com/2021/01/highlights-in-museum-voorlinde...
Falcon 59400pt. Artwork by British artist Fiona Banner in Voorlinden Museum, Wassenaar NL.
More of this exhibition at:
For Mostly Lisa's landscape competition.
An unusual view of an oft-photographed urban landscape shot.
I know this is non-traditional, but living in London, I don't get a chance to shoot anything less urban very regularly.
You might like to look at a larger version.
How could possibly weather be a concern on your day off in London? Well, it should not, since chances are it is only sunny when you are locked at work (that's my Murphy's experience).
This is another of those shots my friends seem to appreciate more than me. So let's give it a try.
I tried to do a bit of research on those black spheres, but all I could come up with was that mostly they are referred to as 'black beans'. I couldn't find any mention of the author, meaning again I'll have to have a walk over there and
check for any potential references to the sculptor.
Good black beans to everyone :)
P.S. It took me probably a good half an hour or even more, but in the end, dead end after dead end, I (luckily) found the right key. Now I can announce that the works you see in the picture are know as 'Full Stops', that the author is
Fiona Banner and that the two 'stops', or 'eggs', 'beans' or 'spheres' - being not the only ones Banner created - have each a name, which for the two sphere above should be 'Optical' and 'Courier'.
And now I think I deserve some rest, provided the posting on Flickr goes (unusually, of lately) smoothly :)
Period. Artworks by British artist Fiona Banner in Voorlinden Museum, Wassenaar NL.
More of this exhibition at:
Detail from the Fiona Banner exhibition in Museum Voorlinde, Wassenaar NL (2020).
More of this exxhibition at:
“The Act of Creation” is a collaborative neon sign artwork, created by Joe Banks and Zata Banks. Genesis 1:3 states “Let there be Light”, and John 1:1 states “in the beginning was the Word”, while the philosopher C.W. Morris defined semiotics as “the science of signs”. In terms of visual semiotics, “The Act of Creation” is an artwork which articulates a message that’s implicit in all neon signs - namely the association between illumination and language; and, in articulating the phrase “Let There Be Language”, “The Act of Creation” is unique among neon sign artworks in the depth of integration between medium and message, since it’s light itself that (literally and metaphorically) illuminates the nature of the play on words. “The Act of Creation” is the winner of the Cambridge Assessment Award for an artwork on the theme of language and light, and was commissioned by Art Language Location for exhibition at the Ruskin Gallery, Cambridge, October 2016.
Hardcore Potography ...
;-) ...
This is Fionna Banner’s floor to ceiling Arse Woman in Wonderland. I think it is about sex.
I like this picture because it’s a wall full of typography. Red / pink typography ! ;-) ...
Fiona Banner often works under the moniker of The Vanity Press. She established the imprint in 1997, with her seminal book The Nam. Since then she has published many works, some in the form of books, some sculptural, some performance based.
In 2009 she issued herself an ISBN number and registered herself as a publication under her own name. Humour, conflict and language are at the core of her work.
She first became known for her “wordscapes” – often heroically proportioned works that capture in her own words films, from war blockbusters to porn. She often works with the “nude”, transcribing the human form into category-defying prose. Sometimes she repurposes military aircraft to brutal, sensual, and comedic ends.
She is the Royal Academy’s Professor of Perspective.
Banner has made a number of works that translate narratives from popular culture to fine art. Typically she uses text to describe scenes or entire plots from such genres as war films, action films and pornography in exact detail. In each instance her descriptions are factual accounts of the dialogue and narrative with subtle personal inflections. The large scale text works are presented on paper and the same text is often rendered in different ways including marker pen, acrylic paint, pencil or screenprints, written by hand or printed in upper or lower case fonts and in different colour combinations of paper and ink.
The scale of the works makes it difficult to read them as linear narratives. In reference to Arsewoman in Wonderland, 2001, which Banner presented at Tate Britain for Turner Prize 2002, Michael Archer explained:
As with Banner’s other text pieces, the small point size of the font relative to the vast area of the overall work together with the closeness of the lines makes it all but impossible simply to read the text ... from beginning to end.
The eye jumps from one point to the next within the work’s field, each time falling on another description. ... But before the shape of any incident can be fully understood by reading the description to its conclusion, a blink, a line break or some other factor has disturbed and fractured the visual experience, sending the eye off elsewhere.
Arsewoman in Wonderland was also presented at the 2. BERLIN BIENNALE.
If there were a pornographic typeface, what would it look like? Fiona Banner likely considered this question when she made Arsewoman in Wonderland (AWIW) (2001). The artwork is a written transcription of Banner’s experience of watching the on-screen action of a pornographic movie directed by American porn star Tiffany Mynx.
The movie has no dialogue and little plot. Watching Mynx’s Asswoman in Wonderland repeatedly Banner transcribed the film’s action as she saw it unfold, later screen-printing the text onto billboard-size paper. Installed within a gallery, the artwork is usually hung flush to the wall with the corners of the paper unfurling from several feet above the audience’s sightline to near the floor .
The written language is bold in its appearance: loud and visually repetitive. The words are hot pink. If you step back, the sea of text becomes unintelligible due to the scale and spacing at which Banner has set the type. A banality of excess, an assault on the visual sense, the Gill Sans Bold typeface presents an onslaught of sex and words. The result is not a crescendo; it is a fake-moaning drone of white noise.
With her bad-girl gesture of wallpapering naughty words in the gallery space, the words provoke, but do they need to be read from start to finish for the work to have effect? Or does the image created by the text, and the fleeting snippets of dirty language that one may catch in a passing glance, contain the intended result of Banner’s use of text as a medium ?
ƒ/6.3
120.0 mm
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Designed by Norman Foster and opened in July 2002, City Hall is the headquarters of the Greater London Authority (GLA), which comprises the Mayor of London and the London Assembly. It is located in Southwark, on the south bank of the River Thames near Tower Bridge.The sculpture in the foreground is one of five "Full Stops" designed by Fiona Banner.
With gorillaz all about.
Related (in the Power of Positive Relationships group): different shapes but similar angles.
FOTOS ENCADENADAS:
ant. huevo
sig. gorilla
Fiona Banner's "Harrier and Jaguar" at Tate Britain.
Harrier jump jet hanging from the ceiling of the Duveen Hall, the nose-cone about a foot above the ground.
Appearing at first like abstract forms, reminiscent perhaps of the classic work of Brancusi or Hepworth, Fiona Banner’s five sculptures are scattered around the big public plaza on the riverfront by Tower Bridge. Mysteriously titled Slipstream, Optical, Courier, Klang and Nuptial, the precarious balance and glistening black of these leaning ellipses, imposing spheres and strange cross shapes intrigue and invite closer inspection.
Each form is an accurate three-dimensional albeit vastly enlarged version of a full stop from a variety of commonly used typefaces which lend their names as titles for the sculptures. Though each is proportionate to the others, their expanded scale reveals anomalies latent within an apparently universal and uniform symbol. Like the complexity and beauty of form which unfold only when observed through a microscope, what appears as a miniscule black dot on paper here reveals its intricate and unexpected shape.
If these sculptures are full stops, then we, walking amongst them and the buildings that frame them, become like the missing letters and words of a sentence. Banner gives us in solid form the pause, the silence, the moment we draw breath and reflect. The full stop is both a beginning as well as an end.
Banner’s fascination with the full stop as sign and symbol started in 1997 with a small blue neon work. The following year she created a series of ephemeral white polystyrene full stops (which were shown at the Tate) before she experimented with monumental sizes in bronze for the More London site. The entire body of work is a logical expansion of Banner’s enduring preoccupation with notions of language and text, whether in sound works, drawings or sculptures: ‘…a lot of my earlier work is about how things are expressed or can become manifest through words – how you can visualise passages of time through language.’
Banner first came to national and international attention with her ‘wordscapes’, vast wall-mounted accounts, handwritten, typeset or stencilled on canvas or sheets of paper pasted directly onto a wall?, of iconic films retold obsessively, scene by scene in Banner’s own words. Using a panoramic format that seems to mimic the cinema screen Banner translates actions into words, attempting to find an equivalent in language for the absent image. Deliberately hindering easy legibility her relentlessly long lines, unbroken by paragraphs or chapters, turn into an almost impenetrably solid abstract block. Taking classic films like Lawrence of Arabia, French Connection or Apocalypse Now, as well as, more recently, porno-movies as her source material, Banner’s transcriptions are always dead-pan and seemingly objective. In each case, whether action movie or porno flick, the language she deploys is of the kind spoken in the film, avoiding any personal viewpoint or commentary. Banner described her approach: ‘It’s an attempt at a very fair account of exceedingly biased subject matter. The whole notion of how things purport to be objective, or how one chooses to interpret fictive things as fact, was a starting point for that project.’2 At the same time, the wordscapes seem to be an experiment about the limits of language, about what is beyond the text and ultimately cannot be said.
Perhaps it was on the basis of this understanding that following the wordscapes, Banner started to make large-scale graphite drawings of full stops, which in turn led to her three-dimensional sculptures. In the drawings, the densely drawn punctuation marks function as both abstract image and black hole.
For the plaza by City Hall, Fiona Banner chose five different type-fonts from her large repertoire that seemed to work particularly well with the surrounding architecture and landscaping. Varying in scale from ….m (Courier) to 3m (Optical) they shift from the intimate to the monumental. The final placing of the Full Stops was only decided after much deliberation, and following a test installation on site with full scale polystyrene models.
All five Full Stops share a particularly tactile surface texture which reveals the process by which they were made. The artist first shaped their form in plaster before they were cast in bronze. Each displays the uneven marks of plaster worked by the artist’s hand. After casting the forms were coated in shiny black paint (the same appropriately, as that of London taxis), giving a highly reflective surface to mirror surrounding buildings and reflect light and water.
Whether nestling amongst trees, by a bench, or fountains, these apparently random works are instantly recognisable as part of the same series. Like a sentence from which the words have been removed, the Full Stops are playful in character, and yet full of pathos. When long shadows double their form on sunny days, their monolithic and almost totemic quality is even further enhanced.
Part of the 'Harrier and Jaguar' exhibition by Fiona Banner covering the length of the Duveen Galleries in Tate Britain.
An HDR composition.
Fiona Banner's piece, 'Harrier and Jaguar' at Tate Britain.
Fuji Pro400H in the Seagull. Bird meets cat.
July 6th, 2010 Photo #442 Explored
This was one of the art installations installed in one of the many galleries at the Tate Britain.
"Fiona Banner is best known for her 'wordscapes', written transcriptions of the frame-by-frame action in Hollywood war films. She has long been fascinated by the emblem of the fighter plane. Her compulsion to grasp the uncomfortable resonances of these war machines has produced a growing archive of material. From pencil drawings to newspaper cuttings and Airfix model collections of all the fighter planes currently in service, the modesty of her works often contrasts with the heroic connotations of her subject.
Here, Banner places recently decommissioned fighter planes in the incongruous setting of the Duveen Galleries. For Banner these objects represent the 'opposite of language', used when communication fails. In bringing body and machine into close proximity she explores the tension between the intellectual perception of the fighter plane and physical experience of the object. The suspended Sea Harrier transforms machine into captive bird, the markings tattooing its surface evoking its namesake the Harrier Hawk. A Jaguar lies belly up on the floor, its posture suggestive of a submissive animal. Stripped and polished, its surface functions as a shifting mirror, exposing the audience to its own reactions. Harrier and Jaguar remain ambiguous objects implying both captured beast and fallen trophy."
www.tate.org.uk/britain/exhibitions/duveenscommissionseri...
The Black eggy thing = Bronze Sculpture "Full Stop Slipstream" by Fiona Banner
Parking a Sprinter in that area is crazy!
International Lawns, Disinformation and the Rural College of Art
Field Trip No.15 - Sat 4 Nov 2017
Domo Baal gallery, London
Disinformation is an art project whose work focusses on electricity, communications and language - exploring the creative potential of electronic messaging and laboratory technologies, investigating the psychology of perception of recorded and transmitted speech, and examining relationships between auditory signs and their visual representations. These interests converge in the fields of commercial telecommunications and corporate branding. The philosopher Marshall McLuhan characterised “advertising (as) the folk art of the 20th century”, while the design critic Stephen Bayley argues that “branding should be regarded as the contemporary equivalent of folk art”. The Disinformation project's own (somewhat tongue-in-cheek) branding is inspired by the philosopher’s notion of the “liar paradox”, while specific Disinformation artworks engage with brand entities such as the National Grid and London Underground. For Field Trip 15, Disinformation presents a carefully curated selection of branded telecommunications artefacts from the collection of the typographic designer Colin Banks. The book “Rorschach Audio - Art & Illusion for Sound” states that “the earliest form of sound recording technology was not a machine, but was written language”. Similarly, despite the emphasis that this exhibition places on branded telecommunications hardware, the display, alongside that hardware, of meticulously-crafted typographical and ideographic 'tools', helps emphasise the view that the ultimate form of communications technology is not so much these various forms of communications electronics, so much as language itself.
www.domobaal.com/exhibitions.html
Text by Joe Banks
“The ultimate form of communications technology is language itself”
International Lawns, Field Trip No.15
Saturday 4 November 2017
Domo Baal, London
International Lawns present an exhibition installed in Domo Baal gallery, London, for one day only, 4 Nov 2017, with special guests Disinformation, presenting selections from the Colin Banks archive, and the Rural College of Art.
Disinformation is an art project whose work focusses on electricity, communications and language - exploring the creative potential of electronic messaging and laboratory technologies, investigating the psychology of perception of recorded and transmitted speech, and examining relationships between auditory signs and their visual representations. These interests converge in the fields of commercial telecommunications and corporate branding. The philosopher Marshall McLuhan characterised “advertising (as) the folk art of the 20th century”, while the design critic Stephen Bayley argues that “branding should be regarded as the contemporary equivalent of folk art”. The Disinformation project's own (somewhat tongue-in-cheek) branding is inspired by the philosopher’s notion of the “liar paradox”, while specific Disinformation artworks engage with brand entities such as the National Grid and London Underground. For Field Trip 15, Disinformation presents a carefully curated selection of branded telecommunications artefacts from the collection of the typographic designer Colin Banks. The book “Rorschach Audio - Art & Illusion for Sound” states that “the earliest form of sound recording technology was not a machine, but was written language”. Similarly, despite the emphasis that this exhibition places on branded telecommunications hardware, the display, alongside that hardware, of meticulously-crafted typographical and ideographic 'tools', helps emphasise the view that the ultimate form of communications technology is not so much these various forms of communications electronics, so much as language itself.
www.domobaal.com/exhibitions/99-17-international-lawns-fi...
The Journal for Research on the Visual Media of Language Expression, Vol. VIII, No. 2, Spring 1974, ISSN 0022-2224
www.domobaal.com/exhibitions/99-17-international-lawns-fi...
“The ultimate form of communications technology is language itself”
International Lawns, Field Trip No.15
Saturday 4 November 2017
Domo Baal, London
International Lawns present an exhibition installed in Domo Baal gallery, London, for one day only, 4 Nov 2017, with special guests Disinformation, presenting selections from the Colin Banks archive, and the Rural College of Art.
Disinformation is an art project whose work focusses on electricity, communications and language - exploring the creative potential of electronic messaging and laboratory technologies, investigating the psychology of perception of recorded and transmitted speech, and examining relationships between auditory signs and their visual representations. These interests converge in the fields of commercial telecommunications and corporate branding. The philosopher Marshall McLuhan characterised “advertising (as) the folk art of the 20th century”, while the design critic Stephen Bayley argues that “branding should be regarded as the contemporary equivalent of folk art”. The Disinformation project's own (somewhat tongue-in-cheek) branding is inspired by the philosopher’s notion of the “liar paradox”, while specific Disinformation artworks engage with brand entities such as the National Grid and London Underground. For Field Trip 15, Disinformation presents a carefully curated selection of branded telecommunications artefacts from the collection of the typographic designer Colin Banks. The book “Rorschach Audio - Art & Illusion for Sound” states that “the earliest form of sound recording technology was not a machine, but was written language”. Similarly, despite the emphasis that this exhibition places on branded telecommunications hardware, the display, alongside that hardware, of meticulously-crafted typographical and ideographic 'tools', helps emphasise the view that the ultimate form of communications technology is not so much these various forms of communications electronics, so much as language itself.
www.domobaal.com/exhibitions/99-17-international-lawns-fi...
Designers; David Kohn (Architects). Fiona Banner (Artist). December 2011 for one year only.
A well crafted boat perched on QEH roof will act as a 2 person room for hire and also as an art venue for visitors throughout 2012.
More about this here.
and a small girl at a vast distance.
Installation built by Living Architecture and designed by David Kohn Architects in collaboration with the artist Fiona Banner. It is modelled on the Roi des Belges, the steamer on which Joseph Conrad travelled up the River Congo in 1890; the experience providing the basis for Heart of Darkness . The installation was taken down in March 2018.
"Fiona Banner is best known for her 'wordscapes', written transcriptions of the frame-by-frame action in Hollywood war films. She has long been fascinated by the emblem of the fighter plane. Her compulsion to grasp the uncomfortable resonances of these war machines has produced a growing archive of material. From pencil drawings to newspaper cuttings and Airfix model collections of all the fighter planes currently in service, the modesty of her works often contrasts with the heroic connotations of her subject.
Here, Banner places recently decommissioned fighter planes in the incongruous setting of the Duveen Galleries. For Banner these objects represent the 'opposite of language', used when communication fails. In bringing body and machine into close proximity she explores the tension between the intellectual perception of the fighter plane and physical experience of the object. The suspended Sea Harrier transforms machine into captive bird, the markings tattooing its surface evoking its namesake the Harrier Hawk. A Jaguar lies belly up on the floor, its posture suggestive of a submissive animal. Stripped and polished, its surface functions as a shifting mirror, exposing the audience to its own reactions. Harrier and Jaguar remain ambiguous objects implying both captured beast and fallen trophy."
www.tate.org.uk/britain/exhibitions/duveenscommissionseri...