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Obra: La Ultima Cena.
Autor: Dan Rosen.
Dirección: Sebastián Blanco Leiss.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía y Vestuario.
(Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Diagonal. Mar del Plata.
Ganador Premio Estrella de Mar 2009: Mejor obra del Circuito Off.
Teatro: ElKafka Espacio Teatral. Buenos Aires.
Temporada 2009.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.
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
A Glitch “Backlum Chaam (बैकलुम चाम) ~ Ètude I”
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 #error #glitchartists #glitchartcommunity #glitchartistcollective #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #proceduralart #creativecodeart #glitchportrait
I’m back honeybees and today we’re looking at a peculiar kind of picture, not the ones painted with oils, or drawn with charcoal but the kind captured by the blinking eye of a camera, in the echo-filled halls of museums, where ghosts of artists float like dust motes in a sunbeam.
I’m talking about group portraits in front of art, snapshots of people gathered together, faces grinning or grim, trying to act casual in front of a heavily moneyed masterpiece. You’ve seen it. Maybe you’ve been in one. Maybe you blinked.
Click.
There’s always that one guy in the back who didn’t know the photo was being taken. Someone’s crouching. Someone's holding their breath. Someone’s blocking the art entirely — standing right in front of the painting like they painted it themselves.
They say a museum is where time goes to take a nap. But these group portraits they wake it up. It’s the collision of the ancient and the now. A 15th-century Madonna and Child gazing down at a tour group, all dressed in matching t-shirts. Raphael meets retail.
You got newlyweds in front of a Klimt, their love still warm. High school kids clustered in front of a war painting, half-listening, half-texting. A family reunion posing in front of Goya’s nightmares. That’s the poetry of the modern age.
And you know, museums they’re cathedrals of culture. Halls of quiet thunder. And when people huddle together for a picture, they’re not just saying cheese, they’re saying we were here. We stood before the art. We stood before history. We saw the brushstrokes and felt the hush of a thousand years.
Sometimes the art looks back.
So gather close, try not to block the painting, and smile like you mean it. Every picture tells a story, and every group photo tells a bit more.
//stay tight. Your always click on top Loana Ibarra
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
D798_011
04/07/2015 : Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, Château La Coste : exposition Different Places (Sean Scully)
In April 2011 Joan Hus showed some of her experimental work in the public library of Nevele, a small town in East Flanders.
Today we celebrate an Aquarius comrade, a man who knew a thing or two about storms inside the house, inside the head, inside the heart. Yeah, today we celebrate Trouble, or Fire, or maybe just Marriage. And sitting at the kitchen table with a match and a stack of papers is our man, August Strindberg.
Strindberg came from Sweden, a place with long nights and longer memories. You don’t grow up under skies like that without learning how to talk to shadows. Born in 1849, which is a good year for ghosts, he wore a lot of hats: playwright, novelist, chemist, painter, alchemist, fighter, lover, and professional arguer with God. Some folks write to understand the world. Strindberg wrote because the world wouldn’t leave him alone. He believed marriage was a battleground, not a ballroom. You read Miss Julie or The Father, and you can hear the furniture moving around by itself. These aren’t polite plays you sip tea to. These are plays where the tea gets thrown against the wall. Men and women circling each other like boxers, like wolves, like planets about to collide. Love, for Strindberg, was never just love - it was power, fear, desire, revenge, and maybe a little prayer slipped in when no one was listening.
He had a mind that ran hot. Burned bridges, burned friendships, nearly burned himself to ash. Had what they used to call a “nervous breakdown” and what we might now call the price of seeing too much. He went looking for God in science, went looking for science in mysticism, and wound up finding mostly himself, staring back, unblinking. That can be a dangerous thing.
But here’s the thing: Strindberg told the truth the way broken mirrors tell the truth. Jagged. Sharp. You don’t look without bleeding a little. And later on, when the pain softened into something like wisdom, he wrote A Dream Play, where time melts, doors open into other doors, and life starts acting like, well, a dream. Suffering becomes universal, almost gentle. Like he finally stopped fighting the storm and learned how to listen to the rain.
Now, my personal favorite Strindberg novel is his most personal and disturbing book he ever wrote. Inferno, not a novel in the usual sense, it’s closer to a confessional diary. Invisible forces are controlling his life, people are spying on him, ordinary events carry secret, supernatural meanings, science, religion, and magic are secretly connected. Strindberg becomes obsessed with chemistry and alchemy, believing he is on the verge of discovering hidden laws of the universe. He conducts experiments in his rooms, interprets random marks and coincidences as signs, and sees himself as chosen or cursed. The walls speak and the best part is how he manages to involve you in this paranoia. I just love it.
Some people want writers to be nice. Strindberg wasn’t nice. He was necessary. He kicked open doors so other folks like Ibsen, O’Neill, Beckett, just to name a few, could walk through and rearrange the air. If modern drama’s got a cracked voice and a nervous laugh, you can trace that sound back to him.
So today, if you’re sitting alone, thinking about love gone wrong, faith gone quiet, or words that won’t let you sleep, remember old August up there, wrestling angels and demons with a pen that wouldn’t behave. He didn’t find peace easy. But he left us something honest. And sometimes, friends, that’s the best you can do.
ink, watercolor on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
Let this day’s light signal hum like a moth against the screen door, because today we’re celebrating the dial to a frequency that comes in hot, holy, and a little bit haunted. We’re talking about the High Priestess of Soul herself, Miss Nina Simone.
Nina Simone wasn’t born Nina Simone. No. She came into the world as Eunice Kathleen Waymon down in Tryon, North Carolina, where air hangs thick with hymnals and red clay. A piano prodigy before most kids could hold their spoons. She wanted to be the first great Black classical concert pianist, another Johann Sebastian Bach whispering through the American South. But the gates of the conservatory don’t always swing open just because you can play every note better than the rest. So she built her own conservatory out of nightclubs and cigarette smoke.
She took the name Nina — “little girl.” Simone — after the French actress Simone Signoret. And once she sat down at that piano, the piano didn’t stand a chance. She played it like it had insulted her mother. Voice like midnight velvet dragged across gravel. Could sing you a lullaby or an indictment.
Songs like “Mississippi Goddam”, “Sinnerman”, “See-Line Woman”, “Baltimore” weren’t just songs, they were telegrams from the front lines of the American soul. When the world shook, Birmingham, Medgar, the long hot summers, Nina didn’t whisper. She thundered. She turned concerts into courtrooms. She turned melody into a raised fist.
Nina Simone famously rejected the label "jazz" saying it was a term coined by white people to define and restrict Black artistry. She believed her music, which blended classical, jazz, blues, and gospel, deserved the same prestige as European classical music.
So yes, Nina had fire. The kind you don’t bottle up. The kind that sometimes jumps the fence. And I always did have a soft spot for that kind of blaze. Hot, sure. Real, absolutely. The kind of heat that doesn’t ask permission to exist. Especially when it rises up out of a woman who knows the weight of her own footsteps. No porcelain figurines here, no trembling sparrows chirping, “Oh save me, I’m just a little fragile bird who forgot how to fly.” So irksome. None of that paper-wing routine. No victims waiting around for a hero with a cape and a bad haircut. This was a woman who could light her own cigarette and look you straight in the eye while the match burned down to her fingertips.
And me? I would’ve given just about anything to sit across from her in some dim corner booth, coffee going lukewarm between us, smoke curling up like a question neither one of us felt obliged to answer. Just to watch that fire flicker. Just to feel the heat of it, steady and unafraid.
There’s a story, and like all good stories it’s got a little smoke around the edges, about a day when a neighbor was practicing trumpet. Practicing is a generous word. The man was butchering it. Notes flying around like pigeons in a hurricane. And Nina, who had perfect pitch and very little patience for sonic vandalism, reached the end of her rope. She stepped outside with a gun and shot him in the leg. Didn’t kill him. Just punctuated the arrangement.
Now I’m not here to tell you to settle your noise complaints that way. But if you’ve ever heard somebody mangle a melody you love, you understand the crime. Nina lived in a world where music was sacred text. You don’t scribble on sacred text.
She was brilliance and contradiction in the same breath. Tender one minute, volcanic the next. A woman who could sing “I Love You Porgy”, “Be my husband”, “Mood Indigo”, “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter” (oh me oh my) and make time stop, and then tell you exactly what was wrong with the country before dessert was served.
She left the US for a spell, found herself in Liberia, in France, places where she could breathe without somebody measuring the air. But wherever she went, she carried that same storm cloud harmony.
Nina Simone didn’t just sing songs. She made you sit with yourself. Made you reckon. Made you feel taller and smaller all at once. Cry, make you smile and fill you up with strength. Some artists entertain you. Some artists comfort you. Nina demanded something from you.
And if you played the trumpet badly outside her window… well, you might’ve gotten a sharp review.
ink, watercolor on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
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
A charity project through Bridge Communities; 'A Chair Affair' was an event where artists were sponsored to create a work of art using chairs as the vehicle, which were then showcased in retail shops in the Western Suburbs of Chicago. These works then went up to auction where 100% of the proceeds went to families and individuals in need. Bridge Communities strives to help those in need and aim to help people get their lives back on track. This was my second 'A Chair Affair', my first one taking place in Naperville in 2014.
Obra: La Ultima Cena.
Autor: Dan Rosen.
Dirección: Sebastián Blanco Leiss.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía y Vestuario.
(Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Diagonal. Mar del Plata.
Ganador Premio Estrella de Mar 2009: Mejor obra del Circuito Off.
Teatro: ElKafka Espacio Teatral. Buenos Aires.
Temporada 2009.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.
Obra: La Ultima Cena.
Autor: Dan Rosen.
Dirección: Sebastián Blanco Leiss.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía y Vestuario.
(Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Diagonal. Mar del Plata.
Ganador Premio Estrella de Mar 2009: Mejor obra del Circuito Off.
Teatro: ElKafka Espacio Teatral. Buenos Aires.
Temporada 2009.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.
Daphne Oram was a musical innovator, the first woman to direct an electronic music studio, the first woman to set up a personal electronic music studio and the first woman to design and construct an electronic musical instrument.
artist, bohemian, brazil, budgettravel, couple, curitiba, digital, digitalnomads, drawing, filmmaker, freesoul, freespirit, gypsy, hippie, hopscotchers, LIFE, LOVE, lovers, nomadcouple, nomadic, nomads, peace, rain, reviews, sãopaulo, tips, travel, travel couple, travelgram, traveling, travelingartist, travelingram, travelling, tricks, vagabonding, videos, visual artist, wanderlust, workandtravel #Insta-Posts
hopscotchers.org/it-has-been-raining-2-days-non-stop-in-c...
In winter, here in Sweden, we learn to notice the sun the way other people notice rare birds.
It’s not background, it’s an event.
When it finally slips past the low horizon and finds its way through a window, the whole house seems to pause.
The light doesn’t just land; it arrives, slow and deliberate, washing over the floor, climbing the walls, catching on the frames of paintings like it’s checking them out one by one.
For a moment, everything looks chosen, intentional.
You move your chair an inch to the left, just to be in it. There’s a quiet reverence to it, rambling, warm, half-myth, half-weather report.
Nobody says much.
You just let the sun play its brief set, knowing it won’t encore, and that makes it matter more.
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
Obra: La Ultima Cena.
Autor: Dan Rosen.
Dirección: Sebastián Blanco Leiss.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía y Vestuario.
(Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Diagonal. Mar del Plata.
Ganador Premio Estrella de Mar 2009: Mejor obra del Circuito Off.
Teatro: ElKafka Espacio Teatral. Buenos Aires.
Temporada 2009.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.
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
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
A Glitch "Ushás ( θεά του πόθου ) ~ Ètude II”
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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 #error #glitchartists #glitchartcommunity #glitchartistcollective #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #proceduralart #creativecodeart #glitchportrait
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
A Glitch "Code de Données Burqa Tchador ~ Ètude III”
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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#visualartists #glitchart #glitch #glitché #pixelsorting #glitchartistscollective #glitchvideo #datamosh #digitalglitch #videoglitch #hyperspektiv #minimalart #videoart #dfkt #pixelsorter #artistsvisual #glitchartoninstagram #glitchartscollective #glitcharts #glitchartistcommunity #glitchartwork #error #glitchartists #glitchartcommunity #glitchartistcollective #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #proceduralart #creativecodeart #glitchportrait
“urge to sad whimpering to understand in a thousand kaleidoscopic possibilities with the feeling of homelessness” -Bruno Schulz
There are artists who build cathedrals out of marble, and there are artists who build them out of dust. The dust usually lasts longer. Somewhere in a provincial town where the clocks seemed embarrassed to announce the hour, there lived a schoolteacher who understood that the shortest distance between memory and myth was not a straight line but a spiral. That’s Bruno Schulz.
Bruno Schulz spent his days teaching schoolchildren, but after hours he seemed to report to another employer entirely. Call it imagination, call it mythology, call it insomnia with excellent penmanship. Whatever the payroll looked like, it paid him in visions rather than certainty.
His stories don't describe the world so much as persuade it to reveal a second skin. Tailor shops become temples. Closets conceal entire climates. Ordinary conversations drift into scripture before anyone notices. Reading him is like discovering that your own childhood had a secret biography it never bothered to show you. He wrote as though furniture had secret ambitions. Wardrobes dreamed of becoming forests. Fathers molted into birds, insects, prophets, or all three before breakfast. Reality was never dismissed; it was merely persuaded to remove its overcoat. His paintings and murals followed the same law. Figures emerged from walls as if the plaster itself had remembered them. Color was never decoration but sediment, the residue left behind after dreams evaporated. Every brushstroke suggested that civilization was only a thin coat of varnish spread over older ceremonies.
Then there were the drawings. Delicate, obsessive, impossible to mistake for anyone else's. Women towered with theatrical confidence while men shrank into willing attendants, pilgrims kneeling before impossible altars. Boots gleamed like religious relics. Gloves, corsets, mirrors, polished floors—all the ordinary props of domestic life quietly enlisted into rituals of power and surrender. They unsettled polite audiences not because they shouted, but because they whispered with complete conviction. Desire was not hidden beneath symbolism; symbolism itself became desire.
It's tempting to pin labels on such images, to file them under psychology, biography, pathology, or scandal. But labels are the taxidermy of criticism. Once you've named the animal, you stop watching it move. These drawings refuse that convenience. They're theatrical, intimate, humorous, and faintly ridiculous all at once, reminding us that power often dresses itself in costume before entering the room.
His visual art never illustrated his stories, nor did the stories explain the drawings. They circled one another like twin moons sharing the same gravity without ever colliding. Ink borrowed from dreams; language borrowed from charcoal. One hand remembered what the other had forgotten. He seemed suspicious of the modern appetite for novelty. Every fashionable revolution promises a brand-new world, shrink-wrapped and ready for display. Yet the truly enduring image is usually old enough to have gathered dust before anyone noticed its value. Culture has a habit of confusing the latest with the lasting, mistaking market excitement for revelation. But genuine imagination isn't manufactured on an assembly line or unveiled beneath gallery lighting with complimentary wine. It arrives quietly, carrying yesterday's myths inside tomorrow's suitcase. Even now, the surviving works feel less like relics than dispatches from a neighboring country whose borders only appear after midnight. They ask whether memory invents reality or reality merely imitates memory. They refuse to answer, preferring to let the question wander through empty streets beneath flickering lamps.
Some artists leave behind masterpieces. Others leave behind weather. Bruno Schulz’ work still changes the atmosphere whenever you enter it. You don't simply look at those drawings or read those pages. Before long, they're looking back at you, measuring your certainty, wondering how much of your ordinary life is merely another elaborate costume waiting for the lights to dim.
ink, watercolor on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
A Glitch "Corps Voluptis Pygophilia (pygophilia) ~ 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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#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 "Terpsichrois(Τερψιχόρη) ~ 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
~ 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 #error #glitchartists #glitchartcommunity #glitchartistcollective #glitchartist #pixelsortingart #proceduralart #creativecodeart #glitchportrait
Woman chalk drawing on bricks
All my photographs are copyright protected, If you wish to use my photos please contact me and we can discuss usage fees.
©Jim Corwin_All Rights Reserved 2019 Contact me at jscorwin@mac.com or visit my PhotoShelter site using the link Jim Corwin Photography on my Profile Page.
My website is jimcorwin.photoshelter.com
My E-Mail Address is jscorwin@mac.com
Obra: La Ultima Cena.
Autor: Dan Rosen.
Dirección: Sebastián Blanco Leiss.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía y Vestuario.
(Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Diagonal. Mar del Plata.
Ganador Premio Estrella de Mar 2009: Mejor obra del Circuito Off.
Teatro: ElKafka Espacio Teatral. Buenos Aires.
Temporada 2009.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.
Obra: La Ultima Cena.
Autor: Dan Rosen.
Dirección: Sebastián Blanco Leiss.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía y Vestuario.
(Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Diagonal. Mar del Plata.
Ganador Premio Estrella de Mar 2009: Mejor obra del Circuito Off.
Teatro: ElKafka Espacio Teatral. Buenos Aires.
Temporada 2009.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.