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Sound installation;
Gaudeamus Music Week;
Vredenburg Leeuwenbergh, Utrecht,
September 4th, 2013;
© co broerse
In February 2006 Craig Tracy opened the PaintedAlive Gallery in his home city, New Orleans, La, USA. PaintedAlive is the first gallery in the world dedicated exclusively to fine art Bodypainted images. But where did his passion for using the human body as a canvas start?
Read on...
Travelers. The kind of people who carry more stories than luggage. And that brings us to celebrate Manu Chao.
Some musicians sound like they come from a city. Some sound like they come from a country. Manu Chao sounds like he comes from a border crossing at three in the morning. He sounds like train stations where nobody speaks the same language but everybody understands the rhythm of a departing locomotive. You hear his records and you get the feeling that every passport stamp turned into a drumbeat. A little bit of punk rock, a little bit of folk music, a little bit of street corner philosophy. The kind of songs that know the names of neighborhoods most maps forgot.
The radio used to promise that distant places were far away. Then artists like Manu Chao came along and made the whole world feel like it was sitting on the same bus. His music moves the way people move. Across oceans, across languages, across the invisible lines that politicians spend their lives drawing and redrawing. One minute you're in Barcelona, the next minute you're somewhere in Latin America, and before you know it you're dancing in a place you've never been.
First there was Hot Pants, playing rock'n'roll like it had stolen a subway ticket. Then there was Los Carayos, where languages bumped into each other like strangers in a crowded station café. And then came Mano Negra, a band that sounded like every radio station between Paris and Bogotá broadcasting at the same time. They weren't trying to build a musical empire. They were building a musical border crossing. And if you listen closely, you can hear that the young man singing in Hot Pants is already carrying the passport he'll spend the rest of his life stamping.
Some singers tell you where they come from. Others remind you that everybody came from somewhere else first.
So whether you're riding a freight train, crossing a desert, walking through a city after midnight, or just sitting in your kitchen observing throughout the window, here's a little reminder: the world is bigger than the walls around you, and the best songs usually know a shortcut.
This is for the travelers. This is for the wanderers. This is for the people who never completely unpack their bags. Stay in motion.
ink, watercolor on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
Genevieve Chua, born in 1984 in work Raised As a Pack of Wolves was Residency Programme at the Gyeonggi
Singapore, graduated with a Diploma in Fine Arts (Painting) from LASALLE College of the Arts, Singapore in 2004. Her works span a variety of mediums including drawing, photography and installation. Genevieve’s works possess distinctive aesthetic and recurring motifs of nature and female figures in dim light. Genevieve’s art explores the fear of the unknown.
For a young artist, Genevieve has exhibited extensively. Her solo exhibitions include As Brutal As (La Liberia Gallery, Singapore, 2007), Lost in the City: Full Moon and Foxes (National Museum of Singapore, 2009) and Child and the Beast (Objectifs Centre for Photography and Filmmaking, 2011). Genevieve has also exhibited overseas at ArtHK 2011 (AsiaOne ChanHampe Galleries, Hong Kong, 2011).
Genevieve was also selected to exhibit at the Singapore Biennale 2011 where she showcased Adinandra Belukar at the Old Kallang Airport. In 2009, her digital
commissioned for the M1 Singapore Fringe Festival. Other group exhibitions in which she has participated include CUT 2009: Figure, New Photography from Southeast Asia (Valentine Willie Fine Art, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, 2009), Next Wave Time Lapse (Federation Square, Melbourne, Australia, 2010) and Cross-Scape (Kumho Museum of Art, Seoul; Jeonbuk Museum of Art, Jeonju; Goeun Museum of Art, Busan, South Korea, 2011). Her work, After the Flood (2010), was sold by international auction house Sotheby’s and was exhibited at The Singapore Show: Future Proof (8Q Singapore Art Museum, 2012).
Genevieve constantly seeks to expand her practice and this has led her to participate in numerous residences locally and abroad. In 2010, she was selected for the BMW Young Asian Artist Series at the Singapore Tyler Print Institute and the Late Fall Residency at The Banff Centre in Calgary, Canada. In 2011, she took part in the GCC Creative
Creation Centre in Gyeonggi-do, South Korea and The Art Incubator at the Centre for Creative Communications in Shizuoka, Japan.
Ashoka Mody the Indian visiting Professor in International Economic Policy and former Deputy Director in the International Monetary Fund’s Research and European Departments, has published an article on the Project Syndicate titled ‘Misreading the Global Economy’ in which he states “…Consider India, where growth is now running at an annualized rate of 4.5%, down from 7.7% annual growth in 2011. To be sure, the IMF projects that India’s economy will rebound later in 2013, but the basis for this optimism is unclear, given that all indicators so far suggest another dismal year. The emerging economies’ supposed resilience, which has buoyed economic forecasts in recent years, needs to be reassessed. Like the advanced economies, emerging economies experienced a boom in 2000-2007. But, unlike the advanced economies, they maintained high GDP growth rates and relative stability even at the height of the crisis. This was viewed as powerful evidence of their new economic might. In fact, it was largely a result of massive fiscal stimulus and credit expansion. Indeed, as the effects of stimulus programs wear off, new weaknesses are emerging, such as persistent inflation in India and credit misallocation in China. Given this, the notion that emerging economies will recapture the growth levels of the bubble years seems farfetched. Economic forecasts rest on the assumption that economies ultimately heal themselves. But economies’ powerful self-healing capabilities work slowly. More problematic, a misdiagnosis can lead to treatments that impair the healing process. Overly optimistic economic projections based on mistaken assessments of the global economy’s ailments thus threaten recovery prospects – with potentially far-reaching consequences. In Europe, the banks’ wounds must be closed – weak banks must be shut down or merged with stronger banks – before recovery can begin. This will require an extensive swap of private debts for equity. For the global economy, the malaise reflected in anemic trade growth calls for coordinated fiscal stimulus by the world’s major economies. Otherwise, the risk of another global recession will continue to rise.” Inspired by Ashoka Mody, Project Syndicate ow.ly/lCCay Image source politicalworld ow.ly/lCC3V
Mark Weisbrot the American economist, columnist and co-director of the Center for Economic and Policy Research (CEPR) has published an article on Aljazeera titled ‘Learning the wrong lessons from Latvia’ referring to Europe’s use of the Baltic state's austerity programmes as an example. In the article Weisbrot states “Latvia, a Baltic country of 2.2 million that most people could not find on a map, has suddenly garnered attention from economists involved in the debate over the future of Europe and the global economy. …This is terrible, because if there's one simple lesson that most of the world - if not the European authorities - seems to be learning from the prolonged crisis in Europe, it is that fiscal tightening is not the proper response to a recession. …Latvia lost about a quarter of its national income. Unemployment rose from 5.3 per cent to more than 20 per cent of the labour force and, …under-employment peaked at more than 30 per cent. Official unemployment remains at more than 15 per cent today, even after the economy finally grew by 5.5 per cent last year, and about 10 per cent of the labour force has left the country. …the bottom line is that no country with three times the unemployment rate that it had before the world recession, and Latvia's huge income losses, should be considered even a qualified success story. It would be a shame if these unwarranted conclusions from Latvia's experience were to help prolong the unnecessary suffering in the eurozone.” Inspired by Aljazeera ow.ly/cf9jQ image source Twitter ow.ly/cf9h3
Mukesh Dhirubhai Ambani the 54 year old Indian executive chairman of India’s largest private sector enterprise the petrochemical company Reliance Industries, has criticized western based philanthropy as a disempowering tool that increases dependency and reduces initiative and enterprise. Ambani described philanthropy as "a system where the more privileged is able to share a certain proportion of their wealth with the less privileged … It doesn't create the necessary human capacity to make communities self-sustaining and independent”. Ambani has previously spoken in support of a more equal distribution of wealth though direct anonymous giving based on traditional values providing the giver personal satisfaction in lieu of the publicity that surrounds the western concept of philanthropy. However critics point to Ambani’s opulent life style that overshadows India’s hundreds of millions of poverty stricken people.
New Orleans bodypainter sat down with us for an interview in issue 13 of A Distinctive Style Magazine.
See the interview here: www.adistinctivestyle.com/issue/22468/9
ca. 1973, West Palm Beach, Florida, USA --- Model Karen Graham, stands against a wall at the Hokin Gallery in West Palm Beach, Florida, with a sculpture by Ernest Trova at her side. She is wearing a low-cut white jersey dress with big stripes by Neil Bieff.
British Artist: Andrew Campbell: VisualBites:
Art Studio Studies: Portfolio Maquettes: #01-1000
Project-7: Netscapes+Subterfuge: iphone-sketchbooks:
#artforsocialmedia #AndrewCampbell
Artist Ref: www.andrew-campbell.com
Coyoacan Lonely Nite 16
Photographer: Ernesto De la Vega “Kaede”
Nikon D5100
Lens 18 – 55
Coyoacan 2013
elkaede.com/fotografia/street-fotografia/coyoacan-lonely-...
Today we celebrate paint. Paint and light. Paint and coffee cups sitting crooked on checked tablecloths while the seasons leans against the windowpanes like an old debt collector. And if you’re going to talk about paint in Scandinavia, sooner or later you’re going to wind up at the doorstep of Carl Larsson.
Carl Larsson wasn’t one of those painters who wanted to drag you into storms or shipwrecks or scenes where Caesar’s getting stabbed under a red curtain. No. Larsson painted something more dangerous. Domestic happiness. And that’s a risky business. Anybody can paint tragedy. Tragedy practically paints itself. But joy? Real joy? The kind where the sunlight falls across the kitchen floor and your kids are half-dressed and somebody’s burning porridge in the next room? That takes precision.
Larsson came out of Stockholm in the nineteenth century, poor as a stray dog under a freight train. Europe was changing fast then. Smoke stacks rising up everywhere, people trading forests for factories, old gods getting pushed aside by clocks and ledgers. But Larsson found this little corner of the world up in Sundborn with his wife Karin, who was an artist herself, and together they built a dream out of painted wood, woven rugs, pale blue walls, and winter light.
You look at a Larsson painting and you can almost hear the floorboards creak. The rooms breathe. Kids tumble through the pictures like loose harmonies in a gospel tune. There’s always a chair pulled out somewhere, like somebody just left the room to answer the door. And the colors, mmm… those reds and whites and green, they don’t shout at you. They hum. Like an old fiddle played low after midnight.
Now some people think nostalgia is weakness. But Larsson understood something. Home isn’t sentimental. Home is rebellion. In a world racing toward noise and iron and profit, he painted breakfasts. Gardens. Socks drying near the stove. He said: this matters too. And Karin, now there’s the secret chord in the song. Without Karin Larsson, you don’t get the whole melody. She designed textiles, interiors, clothes, furniture. Half the beauty people call “Carl Larsson” was really the rhythm the two of them made together. Like Johnny Cash without June Carter, still powerful maybe, but missing the second heartbeat.
People today look at those paintings and see Scandinavian coziness. Candles. Simplicity. A little cinnamon bun civilization. But underneath all that calm there’s a radical idea: that ordinary life can be sacred. That the table where your family sits might be as worthy of art as kings on horseback. That’s a dangerous thought in any century.
So today, while the life gathers outside and the coffee goes cold beside the open book, think about Carl Larsson. A man who painted not the world as it was breaking apart, but the world as it could still be held together.
ink, watercolor on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
Joseph Bast the president and CEO of the climate-change denial Institute ‘The Heartland’ is seeking to re-grow his sponsorship base following the effective campaign against his organization by conservation groups. Bill McKibben in an article for Toms Dispatch titled ‘The Planet Wreckers - Climate-Change Deniers Are On the Ropes -- But So Is the Planet’ states “…Joe Bast, complained that his side had been subjected to the most “uncivil name-calling and disparagement you can possibly imagine from climate alarmists,” which was both a little rich -- after all, he was the guy with the mass-murderer billboards -- but also a little pathetic. A whimper had replaced the characteristically confident snarl of the American right. That pugnaciousness may return: Mr. Bast said last week that he was finding new corporate sponsors, that he was building a new small-donor base that was “Greenpeace-proof” …it’s a hard fight, up against a ton of money and a ton of inertia. Eventually, climate denial will “lose,” because physics and chemistry are not intimidated even by Lord Monckton. But timing is everything -- if he and his ilk, a crew of certified planet wreckers, delay action past the point where it can do much good, they’ll be able to claim one of the epic victories in political history -- one that will last for geological epochs.” Inspired by Tom Dispatch ow.ly/bJbGR image source whoami-whoareyou ow.ly/bJb7N
A Glitch "Code de Données Burqa Tchador ~ Ètude II”
This art piece were created for my PhD and based on a Digital and Analog Aesthetic Research on "Artistic Practices, Digital Art in Social Networks and Net Art", some digital techniques used of artistic diversity, such as the re-mixed appropriation of image or video, also work conceived as original data work called creative altered binary code, datamoshing, generative art and glitch art worked in all its forms and expressions; works of art with a strong focus decoding the i-frames of images and videos (also known as key frames and altered or distorted creative binary code) mixed with seductive techniques of Pixelsorting Art; making it seem extremely sensitive and abstract; created exclusively for the virtual gallery on-line.
by ™℗®© Louis M o n t i e l
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1964, Tretyakov Gallery, Moscow, USSR --- Visitors contemplate Alexander Ivanov's work, painted between 1833 and 1855, and acquired by the gallery in 1925. --- Image by
An American Chestnut tree () which is native to eastern North America. The bare branches on one side of the tree signify that it is deciduous. --- Image by
Sayeeda Hussain Warsi the 41 year old British Baroness solicitor and politician who was created a life peer in 2007 has been defended by Dr Muhammad Abdul Bari of The East London Communities Organisation, in an article he published on Aljazeera. Bari states ” Media and political pressure has been piling on Baroness Sayeeda Warsi, the Conservative Party co-chairman and minister-without-portfolio in the coalition government. Unpopular with the Tory Right, the guns have turned on her following the Conservative Party's dismal electoral performance in last month's local elections. … There is barely a week that goes by without someone, usually a Tory, calling for her head. The Labour Party has seized upon her plight and called for her to step down. … Lady Warsi is the UK's most senior minority-ethnic politician. She was initially seen as a shining light in the Conservative Party, long-struggling to recruit from the black and minority ethnic (BME) communities. Is she going to be a scapegoat for the sliding unpopularity of the Conservative Party? …Lady Warsi is not a political maverick. She is sharp, charismatic and she speaks her mind. As such, she has brought a distinctive appeal to the Conservative Party, traditionally viewed as led by a white middle (or upper) class elite.” Inspired by Muhammad Abdul Bari ow.ly/bWajK image source UK Cabinet Office ow.ly/bWagu
Today we celebrate the open road. The long road, the lonesome road, the road where the white line hums under the tires and the night fades in and out like a ghost. And if you’re driving that road, sooner or later you’re gonna run into the birthdayman named Jack Kerouac.
Jack Kerouac was born up in Lowell, Massachusetts in 1922, a mill town where the rivers run fast and the church bells ring early. French-Canadian kid, Catholic upbringing, spoke joual before he spoke English. Grew up with the kind of rhythm in his ears that later came out in sentences that didn’t walk, they ran.
He wrote a book called “On the Road”. Some say it’s a novel. Others say it’s a map. Published in 1957 but written earlier, it rolled across all over like a freight train. The story follows a couple of wild-eyed pilgrims chasing kicks, jazz, and meaning from New York City to San Francisco and down into Mexico City.
The guy at the center of it all was based on Kerouac’s running buddy Neal Cassady, a man who talked so fast he could outrun his own thoughts. Kerouac once said Cassady’s letters were like jazz solos, and Jack tried to write the same way; blowing sentences the way Charlie Parker blew a saxophone.
They called it spontaneous prose. No outlines, no second guesses, just the words rolling out like highway asphalt. Legend has it Kerouac typed “On the Road” on one long scroll of paper so he wouldn’t have to stop and change sheets. Just keep going. Keep rolling. Like the road itself.
But before the road stretched out under his tires, Kerouac had his ear pressed up against poetry. And even when he was writing novels, the man was really blowing poems through a typewriter. One of his best-known poetry books is “Mexico City Blues”, noble title for a treasure. It’s made up of more than two hundred little poems he called “choruses,” like verses in a jazz tune. They wander through Buddhism, bebop, streetlights, loneliness, and sudden flashes of joy. Kerouac also loved short forms. He even wrote States-style haiku, long before most folks in the States knew what a haiku was. Later those were gathered in “Book of Haikus”. But these weren’t quiet garden haiku, they were roadside haiku. One of his goes something like this:
“In my medicine cabinet
the winter fly
has died of old age.”
Kerouac ran with the Beat crowd, you know poets and prophets, night owls and neon philosophers. You had Allen Ginsberg with his long howls and wild visions, and William S. Burroughs with his cool, sharp-eyed stories from the edge of the map. Together they helped kick open the doors of U.S.A.’ literature sometime around the middle of the last century.
But fame hit Kerouac funny. The same road that made him a legend also left him kinda lost. By the late ’60s he’d drifted back closer to home, watching the counterculture treat him like a founding father of something he wasn’t sure he recognized.
You know, every generation finds its own road. Some follow maps, some follow stars, and some just follow the next song on a vinyl. And if you’re driving somewhere between dusk and dawn, you might want to bring along a little Kerouac. Roll the window down. Let the wind come in. Because as long as there’s a road stretching out past the headlights, Jack Kerouac’s still riding shotgun.
————
Mexico City Blues [113th Chorus]
Got up and dressed up
and went out & got laid
Then died and got buried
in a coffin in the grave,
Man—
Yet everything is perfect,
Because it is empty,
Because it is perfect
with emptiness,
Because it's not even happening.
Everything
Is Ignorant of its own emptiness—
Anger
Doesn't like to be reminded of fits—
You start with the Teaching
Inscrutable of the Diamond
And end with it, your goal
is your startingplace,
No race was run, no walk
of prophetic toenails
Across Arabies of hot
meaning—you just
numbly don't get there
//From Mexico City Blues, 1959, Jack Kerouac
ink, watercolor on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
A Glitch "Prodigiosum Contortion(σύσπαση) ~ Ètude I”
This art piece were created for my PhD and based on a Digital and Analog Aesthetic Research on "Artistic Practices, Digital Art in Social Networks and Net Art", some digital techniques used of artistic diversity, such as the re-mixed appropriation of image or video, also work conceived as original data work called creative altered binary code, datamoshing, generative art and glitch art worked in all its forms and expressions; works of art with a strong focus decoding the i-frames of images and videos (also known as key frames and altered or distorted creative binary code) mixed with seductive techniques of Pixelsorting Art; making it seem extremely sensitive and abstract; created exclusively for the virtual gallery on-line.
by ™℗®© Louis M o n t i e l
NFT Crypto Digital Art
Marketplace on qurable.co : Buy, Shell & Explore Digital Assets
app.qurable.co/c-louis-montiel
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