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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
Will algae farms be the farms of the future? Can washed-up jellyfish be repurposed to make a durable material? Are algae the solution for clean energy harvesting? Through performance and talks, we explored aquatic life in the framework of harvesting. Sound and visual artist Sabina Ahn, designer Charlotte van Alem and researcher Dr. Ben van den Broek contemplated these questions and more.
www.mediamatic.net/en/aquatic-harvesting
Photography by Anisa Xhomaqi
A Glitch "Burqa 2.0(برقع) ~ Ètude III“
by ™℗®© Louis M o n t i e l
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#visualartists #glitchart #glitch #glitché #pixelsorting #glitchartistscollective #glitchvideo #datamosh #digitalglitch #videoglitch #hyperspektiv #minimalart #videoart #dfkt #pixelsorter #artistsvisual #glitchartoninstagram #glitchartscollective #glitcharts #glitchartistcommunity #glitchartwork #datamoshing #glitchartists #glitchartcommunity #glitchartistcollective #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #proceduralart #creativecodeart #pixelsortingeffect
Sunset at Bandra, or as I like to lovingly call it, Badrinath. or Bandar.
I don't really call it that.
More images: Facebook page.
Pen and ink on illustration board
30"x30" (framed)
2000
This pen and ink pointalism drawing, is about a young black male, pondering the odds of him living to see tomorrow.
(you don’t have to be mad to love, but it sure helps to be brave)
Madness, the thin line between love and lunacy, between a broken heart and a broken mind. You ever been so in love you couldn’t tell the difference?
Today we celebrate a story coming from the dusty courts of Spain, back when kings wore velvet and everyone smelled faintly of oranges and incense. It’s the celebration of a queen, a queen named Juana. They called her Juana la Loca. Juana the Mad.
Juana wasn’t born crazy. She was born a princess, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, yeah, those two. The ones who sent Columbus sailing off to bump into America. Juana grew up smart, sensitive, and full of fire. But politics don’t have much use for poetry, and neither do dynasties. She met this guy, Felipe el Hermoso, Philip the Handsome. You know how they say ‘handsome is as handsome does’? Well, this guy did plenty. Too much, maybe. He was a good-looking man, the kind that knows it, struts around like the world owes him a song. Juana fell for him hard. And when he started straying, she fell harder.
Juana became widow at 26. They say when Philip died (suddenly, mysteriously) she wouldn’t let him go. Literally. Traveled across Spain with his coffin, through the cold and the mud, opening it up just to make sure he was still there. Now that’s either love or madness. But sometimes, I guess it’s both.
She got locked away in a convent. They said it was for her own good, but you know how that goes. History called her crazy, but maybe she was just too alive for a world that wanted its women quiet. Maybe she saw too much, felt too deep, sang too loud. She did not speak to anyone for 46 years and died at the age of 75. She became unusually old for her time.
So here’s to the woman who loved a ghost, who wouldn’t let the world tell her what sanity should look like. Remember, sometimes the craziest ones are the only ones telling the truth.
above: ink, watercolor on paper
down: interpretation, selfportrait 2013
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
A Glitch "Prodigiosum Contortion(σύσπαση) ~ Ètude VIII”
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
~ FOLLOW ME & SUBSCRIBE ~
Instagram ~ louismontielt
Facebook ~ Louis Montiel
YouTube ~ Louis M o n t i e l
Vimeo ~ Louis M o n t i e l
#visualartists #glitchart #glitch #glitché #pixelsorting #glitchartistscollective #glitchvideo #datamosh #digitalglitch #nfts #hyperspektiv #minimalart #videoart #dfkt #pixelsorter #artistsvisual #nftart #glitchartscollective #glitcharts #nftartist #glitchartwork #glitchartisdead #glitchartists #nftcommunity #nft #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #nftartists #creativecodeart #glitchportrait
A Glitch "Niqab (κερί) ~ Ètude VIII”
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
~ FOLLOW ME & SUBSCRIBE ~
Instagram ~ louismontielt
Facebook ~ Louis Montiel
YouTube ~ Louis M o n t i e l
Vimeo ~ Louis M o n t i e l
#visualartists #glitchart #glitch #glitché #pixelsorting #glitchartistscollective #glitchvideo #datamosh #digitalglitch #videoglitch #hyperspektiv #minimalart #videoart #dfkt #pixelsorter #artistsvisual #glitchartoninstagram #glitchartscollective #glitcharts #glitchartistcommunity #glitchartwork #glitchartisdead #glitchartists #glitchartcommunity #glitchartistcollective #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #proceduralart #creativecodeart #glitchportrait
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18/07/2021 : Arles, boulevard Emile-Combes, Croisière : exposition Etudes en vibration (Reeve Schumacher)
On Monday, December 19th, we partnered with Lenovo computers to build out the ultimate art-themed smackdown. Hosted at Villain in Williamsburg, guests stepped into a fully imagined warehouse art party. That night it was all about participation. We created a series of art activities to get guests making art and meeting each other. Guests captured the revelry of the night in Ventikoland’s projection photo booth. After some savory Espolón cocktails and tacos the art battle was ready to begin. 2 amazing artists competed head-to-head in a series of timed challenges and a head-to-head battle of creative awesomeness. Interludes were provided by a pop & lock round girl, battling breakdancers, and a duo of beatboxers.
Event Design by Adam Aleksander Presents
Photography by Lukas Maverick Greyson
Cock Park Restaurant Branding Design By #Akib_Sarder
This Project On:
#Behance: www.behance.net/gallery/57864131/Cock-Part-Restaurant-Bra...?
#Facebook: www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.298861310585256.1073741...
#Google+ : plus.google.com/u/0/104110449329655898745/posts/EaAjEtDMN5V
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26/06/2012 : Marseille 3e, bd National / rue de Strasbourg, îlot National : exposition Une collection de collections (Maryvonne Arnaud et Philippe Mouillon)
collection de râpes de cuisine du monde (Michel Duport)
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
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08/04/2017 : Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, Château La Coste : exposition Mountains and Seas (Ai Weiwei)
Yuyi
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04/07/2015 : Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, Château La Coste : exposition Different Places (Sean Scully)
Today we celebrate the beloved Federico García Lorca. One glance at him and you wished you could spend a couple of hours with his gentility.
Some people are born in cities. Some are born in countries. Lorca was born in a landscape. Southern Spain. Olive trees, white walls, horses standing around like they know something you don't.
You know, there are poets who write about the moon, and then there are poets who seem to have been personally visited by it. Lorca belonged to that second category. The moon in his poems isn't decoration. It's a traveler. A witness. Sometimes it's a warning sign nailed to the sky.
He came into the world in 1898, just as one century was folding up its maps and another was sharpening its knives. He played piano, loved folk songs, wandered through old melodies the way some people wander through old neighborhoods. He understood that a song can carry history farther than a speech.
Lorca once wrote about something called duende. Hard thing to translate. Not a technique. Not talent. Not inspiration. More like the mysterious force that shows up when art stops being polite and starts telling the truth. The thing that makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. The thing that can't be bought, borrowed, or taught in a classroom. When dancing flamenco you’ve got to think of “el duende” too.
He had friends who painted pictures that looked like dreams after too much coffee. Friends who made films where reality seemed to forget its own rules. The twentieth century was arriving, and Lorca was standing in the doorway holding it open.
Then he went to New York. Now that's a long trip—from Andalusian villages to steel canyons and electric signs. He saw the city at a moment when money seemed to be speaking louder than people. The poems he wrote there weren't postcards. They were weather reports from the soul.
History, of course, has a habit of interrupting poets. When civil war descended on Spain, it arrived with uniforms, rifles, and certainties. Poets tend to make people nervous when times get that way. Lorca was killed in 1936, not far from the landscape that had first taught him how to listen.
But here's the thing about poets. They keep missing their own funerals. A song gets sung. A poem gets opened. A young person reads a line and suddenly feels less alone. And there you are again. The olive trees are still standing. The moon still makes its rounds.
Somewhere today, somebody is reading Lorca for the first time and discovering that beauty and sorrow have always shared the same room.
And that's Federico García Lorca.
—
Fabula y Rueda de los Tres Amigos
Enrique,
Emilio,
Lorenzo.
Estaban los tres helados:
Enrique por el mundo de las camas;
Emilio por el mundo de los ojos y las heridas de las manos,
Lorenzo por el mundo de las universidades sin tejados.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique.
Estaban los tres quemados:
Lorenzo por el mundo de las hojas y las bolas de billar;
Emilio por el mundo de la sangre y los alfileres blancos,
Enrique por el mundo de los muertos y los periódicos abandonados.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique.
Estaban los tres enterrados:
Lorenzo en un seno de Flora;
Emilio en la yerta ginebra que se olvida en el vaso,
Enrique en la hormiga, en el mar y en los ojos vacíos de los pájaros.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique.
Fueron los tres en mis manos
tres montañas chinas,
tres sombras de caballo,
tres paisajes de nieve y una cabaña de azucenas
por los palomares donde la luna se pone plana bajo el gallo.
Uno
y uno
y uno.
Estaban los tres momificados,
con las moscas del invierno,
con los tinteros que orina el perro y desprecia el vilano,
con la brisa que hiela el corazón de todas las madres,
por los blancos derribos de Júpiter donde meriendan muerte los borrachos.
Tres
y dos
y uno.
Los vi perderse llorando y cantando
por un huevo de gallina,
por la noche que enseñaba su esqueleto de tabaco,
por mi dolor lleno de rostros y punzantes esquirlas de luna,
por mi alegría de ruedas dentadas y látigos,
por mi pecho turbado por las palomas,
por mi muerte desierta con un solo paseante equivocado.
Yo había matado la quinta luna
y bebían agua por las fuentes los abanicos y los aplausos.
Tibia leche encerrada de las recién paridas
agitaba las rosas con un largo dolor blanco.
Enrique,
Emilio,
Lorenzo.
Diana es dura,
pero a veces tiene los pechos nublados.
Puede la piedra blanca latir en la sangre del ciervo
y el ciervo puede soñar por los ojos de un caballo.
Cuando se hundieron las formas puras
bajo el cri cri de las margaritas,
comprendí que me habían asesinado.
Recorrieron los cafés y los cementerios y las iglesias,
abrieron los toneles y los armarios,
destrozaron tres esqueletos para arrancar sus dientes de oro.
Ya no me encontraron.
¿No me encontraron?
No. No me encontraron.
Pero se supo que la sexta luna huyó torrente arriba,
y que el mar recordó ¡de pronto!,
los nombres de todos sus ahogados.
//1929, F. Garcia Lorca
—
Fable and Round of the Three Friends
Enrique,
Emilio,
Lorenzo,
the three of them frozen:
Enrique by the world of beds;
Emilio by the world of eyes and wounded hands;
Lorenzo by the world of roofless universities.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique,
the three of them burned:
Lorenzo by the world of leaves and billiard balls;
Emilio by the world of blood and white pins;
Enrique by the world of the dead and abandoned newspapers.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique,
the three of them buried:
Lorenzo in one of Flora's breasts;
Emilio in the dead gin forgotten in the glass;
Enrique in the ant, the sea, and the empty eyes of birds.
Lorenzo,
Emilio,
Enrique,
the three in my hands were
three Chinese mountains,
three shadows of a horse,
three landscapes of snow and a cabin of white lilies
by the pigeon coops where the moon lies flat under the rooster.
One
and one
and one,
the three of them mummified,
with the flies of winter,
with the inkwells the dog pisses and the thistle despises,
with the breeze that freezes the eart of all the mothers,
by the white ruins of Jupiter where drunks snack on death.
Three
and two
and one,
I saw them disappear, crying and singing
into a hen's egg,
into the night that showed its skeleton of tobacco,
into my sorrow full of faces and piercing bone splinters of moon,
into my happiness of whips and notched wheels,
into my breast troubled by pigeons,
into my deserted death with one mistaken wanderer.
I had killed the fifth moon
and the fans and the applause drank water from the fountains.
Hidden away, the warm milk of newborn girls,
shook the roses with a long white sorrow.
Enrique,
Emilio,
Lorenzo,
Diana is hard,
but somtimes she has breasts of clouds.
The white stone can beat in the blood of a deer
and the deer can dream through the eyes of a horse.
When the pure forms sank
under the cri cri of daisies
I understood they had murdered me.
They searched the cafés and the graveyards and churches,
they opened the wine casks and wardrobes,
they destroyed three skeletons to pull out their gold teeth.
Still they couldn't fine me.
They couldn't?
No. They couldn't.
But they learned the sixth moon fled against the torrent,
and the sea remembered, suddenly,
the names of all her drowned.
//1929, F. Garcia Lorca
ink, watercolor on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
The music cuts out mid-turn. Not dramatically, no grand ending, no flourish. Just a soft click, like someone closing a book before the last sentence. And there you are, heel half-raised, arms suspended in a question you haven’t quite learned how to answer yet.
These are the in-betweens.
There’s the shuffle of shoes against the wood floor, the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the faint echo of the last note still circling the room like it forgot where the exit was. You try the step again.
Heel.
Toe.
Pause.
Turn.
Head first.
Look down.
Up.
But the pause isn’t empty. That’s the trick nobody tells you at the beginning. The pause is where everything lives the doubt, the memory of the rhythm, the ghost of the guitar that was there a second ago. You’re not just waiting for the music to come back. You’re trying to become the music, or at least a reasonable imitation of it.
That’s where you start listening differently.
You notice the floor pushing back. You notice how your weight shifts before you tell it to. You notice the way your-self watches—not judging, just observing, like someone tuning an instrument that insists on being slightly out of tune. And you go again.
Clap.
Step.
Turn.
No music.
Just the rhythm you’re building from scraps and memory. There’s something honest about it. Stripped down. No place to hide a missed step behind a swell of guitar or a well-timed palmas. It’s just you and the bones of the dance, laid out plain as day. And maybe that’s the whole point. Because when the music comes back, and it always does, it’s different now. Or maybe you are. The steps land a little closer to where they’re supposed to. The pause feels intentional, like you put it there yourself. But you carry those in-betweens with you.
Every silence. Every almost-right turn. Every moment where the dance existed without its soundtrack.
And if you were to file this away, somewhere between midnight and morning, you might say: that’s where the learning lives. In that quiet space after the music stops, when you’re left alone with the rhythm, trying to convince it to stay.
All right reserved.
For personal use only - this image, or derivative works, can not be used, published, distributed or sold without written permission of the owner.
A Glitch "Prodigiosum Contortion(σύσπαση) ~ Ètude VII”
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
~ FOLLOW ME & SUBSCRIBE ~
Instagram ~ louismontielt
Facebook ~ Louis Montiel
YouTube ~ Louis M o n t i e l
Vimeo ~ Louis M o n t i e l
#visualartists #glitchart #glitch #glitché #pixelsorting #glitchartistscollective #glitchvideo #datamosh #digitalglitch #nfts #hyperspektiv #minimalart #videoart #dfkt #pixelsorter #artistsvisual #nftart #glitchartscollective #glitcharts #nftartist #glitchartwork #glitchartisdead #glitchartists #nftcommunity #nft #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #nftartists #creativecodeart #glitchportrait
OSWA (OneStrokeWaterArt) MRI (MysteryRepeatsItself) The World's First 'Bowhammer Cymbalom' CD Uniquely Repurposed On A Selfie-Stick" For Alternate-Optic 'Playback' (Silent Save The Sound Of Water Already Falling-From-The-Moment's PEAK--Laser-Refracted Spectrum / San Francisco Baylift Into Full Moonlight (Snapshot From Anchored Raft...)
MAIN GALLERY CURATION IN PROGRESS (From Thousands)
On Monday, December 19th, we partnered with Lenovo computers to build out the ultimate art-themed smackdown. Hosted at Villain in Williamsburg, guests stepped into a fully imagined warehouse art party. That night it was all about participation. We created a series of art activities to get guests making art and meeting each other. Guests captured the revelry of the night in Ventikoland’s projection photo booth. After some savory Espolón cocktails and tacos the art battle was ready to begin. 2 amazing artists competed head-to-head in a series of timed challenges and a head-to-head battle of creative awesomeness. Interludes were provided by a pop & lock round girl, battling breakdancers, and a duo of beatboxers.
Event Design by Adam Aleksander Presents
Photography by Lukas Maverick Greyson
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04/07/2015 : Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, Château La Coste : exposition Different Places (Sean Scully)
Vernissage GIGEROTICA
by H.R. Giger
Atelier CROSS ART - Berlin
Photo by Jens Schommer - 06. Juni 2015
ARTIST STATEMENT
My work is project-based and highly researched, drawing from a wide range of source inspirations. Elements of Pop Art, Disney, folklore, true crime, kitsch, tabloids, and horror, have figured largely into many of my projects. I use traditional as well as non-traditional materials to produce disparate ingredients of language, folklore, and popular culture into 2 and 3-dimensional works. I explore materials that tend to be tactile and sensuous – and as they relate to my deep interests. Fluorescent paint, expanding foam, reflective surfaces, and plastic jewels are some of my hallmark materials. My work takes delight in balancing raw and luxurious materials, upending high and low culture, and deepening an understanding of mass visual communication and its evocations. I mainly focus on repositioning the core element of a supercharged event or object so that it may resonate in fresh and meaningful ways for my viewers.
ARTIST BIO
Since moving to the Bay Area from Michigan, Kim Weller has exhibited at some of San Francisco’s cutting edge art venues including Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, The LAB, BUILD Art Gallery, California College of the Arts and Oakland’s 21 Grand among others. New York exhibitions include Norte Maar Gallery, Bushwick 2009 and Sugar Gallery, Bushwick 2010. She has also presented several outdoor site-specific projects for the SF Recycling and Disposal Artist-in-Residency Program, Heron’s Head Park as part of "Blue in Green" curated by Elliot Lessing for the Neighborhood Parks Council, and Glama Rama as part of "National Psyche: Feminine Vision, Thought, and Action during Wartime". She holds an MFA (2003) in Painting and Drawing from the California College of the Arts. Kim currently lives and works in San Francisco.
I used this image in The Distillery District blog post chronicling Artfest2012 in Toronto that did occur in this historic region on the September Long Weekend
On Monday, December 19th, we partnered with Lenovo computers to build out the ultimate art-themed smackdown. Hosted at Villain in Williamsburg, guests stepped into a fully imagined warehouse art party. That night it was all about participation. We created a series of art activities to get guests making art and meeting each other. Guests captured the revelry of the night in Ventikoland’s projection photo booth. After some savory Espolón cocktails and tacos the art battle was ready to begin. 2 amazing artists competed head-to-head in a series of timed challenges and a head-to-head battle of creative awesomeness. Interludes were provided by a pop & lock round girl, battling breakdancers, and a duo of beatboxers.
Event Design by Adam Aleksander Presents
Photography by Lukas Maverick Greyson
Seems that Liam Gillick, the artist, is even from Northern Ireland! visualartists.org.uk/events/liam-gillick-at-art-basel-hon...
On Monday, December 19th, we partnered with Lenovo computers to build out the ultimate art-themed smackdown. Hosted at Villain in Williamsburg, guests stepped into a fully imagined warehouse art party. That night it was all about participation. We created a series of art activities to get guests making art and meeting each other. Guests captured the revelry of the night in Ventikoland’s projection photo booth. After some savory Espolón cocktails and tacos the art battle was ready to begin. 2 amazing artists competed head-to-head in a series of timed challenges and a head-to-head battle of creative awesomeness. Interludes were provided by a pop & lock round girl, battling breakdancers, and a duo of beatboxers.
Event Design by Adam Aleksander Presents
Photography by Lukas Maverick Greyson
Joe McGinniss the 68 year old US author of bestselling nonfiction and novels has released his latest politically sensitive book ‘The Rogue: Searching for the Real Sarah Palin’ to much fanfare and outrage. McGinniss had rented the neighboring Alaskan house next to Pain for over 12 months. Palin responded with a 4.2m fence to block McGinniss’s view, as they bantered online for all to see. The books release has unveiled allegations that Palin, said to be a racist had a short relationship with a black college student, an affair with a business partner of her husbands, and had used drugs. McGinniss achieved overnight success at age 26, with his bestseller ‘The Selling of the President’. The book described the 1968 marketing of Richard Nixon during his presidential campaign. While initially turned down by the Hubert Humphrey campaign, Nixon’s agreed.