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A Glitch "Code de Données Burqa Tchador ~ Ètude I”
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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.
Today we’re drifting down a golden boulevard lit by boleros and broken hearts. This is the moment where the moon hangs low and the past hums like a neon sign that never quite flickers out. Today we celebrate the greatest Luis Miguel also known as The Sun of Mexico.
There was a voice once, smooth as midnight silk, sharp as a truth you weren’t ready to hear. It came wrapped in sunlight and shadows, carried on the kind of breath that could turn a crowded room into a confession booth. Luis Miguel. A name that didn’t just belong to a man, but to a feeling like the echo of a love you almost held onto and that’s been around since always.
Luis Miguel didn’t just sing songs, he arrived in them, like a summer storm rolling in off the ocean, no warning, just a shift in the air pressure. Some folks inherit a voice; his sounded more like it was loaned to him by something older than memory. You hear it and think of candlelight flickering against glass, of promises made too late at night and kept even later, if they’re kept at all.
Now, Luis Miguel… he walked a road paved with boleros, rancheras, mariachis and ballads, the kind your grandparents might’ve danced to when the world still spun a little slower. But he polished them up, held them to the light, and somehow they didn’t break. That’s a rare thing. Songs like those, they can shatter if you handle them wrong—too much polish, too much pride—but he carried them like secrets, not trophies.
There’s something about a crooner, they stand still, but everything around them moves. Time, memory, heartbreak, it all circles like moths to a flame. And Luis Miguel, he was one of those flames. Not the kind that burns the house down, more like the kind you keep coming back to, even when you know better.
Some say he disappeared now and then, slipped out of sight like a verse you can’t quite remember. But that’s part of the story too. The best voices they don’t belong entirely to the world. They drift. They wait. And when they come back, they bring something with them… a little dust from the road, a little echo from somewhere you’ve never been.
I once was a girl not chasing dreams, no, I was catching them, four times over. Four nights, four chances to stand in the glow of that voice as it poured out over a sea of people, each one thinking the song was meant just for them. And maybe it was. The lights shimmered like they were made of memory itself, and every note felt like it had traveled a long road just to find where I stood. Back then, the doors opened a little easier, the tickets didn’t ask for your soul in return. You could walk in with a hopeful heart and walk out with something stitched into you forever. Now those nights they’re harder to come by. The price of admission has climbed high, like a ladder leaning up against the sky, and not everyone gets to climb it anymore. But I did. Four times. That’s not just luck—that’s a kind of quiet miracle.
And maybe that’s the thing about music, folks. It don’t belong to the moment you hear it, it follows you, lingers in your coat pocket, hums in the backseat while you’re driving nowhere in particular. It reminds you that once, not so long ago, you were right there when the song took flight.
So if you’ve got a memory like that, hold onto it. Let it spin, let it crackle, let it play on.
Because long after the stage goes dark and the tickets fade into legend, the music, well, the music stays.
charcoal on paper
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
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08/04/2017 : Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, Château La Coste : exposition Mountains and Seas (Ai Weiwei)
Etant donnés
Rbma 2006 Participant Sheryar Hyatt (Karachi, Pakistan) playing records @ Horse Bazaar [Melbourne] before Strobocop [Karaoke Kalk, Cologne].
CRISIS DEL CUARTO DE VIDA (Parte 2 - Pretensiones)
"Da pena verme vivir oculto detrás de mi cara. Decidir vivir es bello, estar obligado a vivir no".
"It's so sad to see me living hidden behind my face. Deciding to live is beautiful. Being forced to live is not"
www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDlhCmvi0og
"Crisis del cuarto de vida" Es una serie de vídeos experimentales. "Pretensiones" es la segunda parte de esta serie.
"Quarter-life crisis" is an experimental video series. "Pretence" is the second video of the series.
Parte 1/1st part: www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ON9VtHpxQQ
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“Pluralis”
2012
acrylic, oilcloth, embroidery on canvas
205cm x 150 cm
contact ibarraloana@gmail.com
Painter Gaby Rico holds one of her landscape paintings. The painting is part of a series of works called "Chasing Rainbows. A Lucid Daydream" that were exhibited at Hinovations Art Gallery in McAllen.
Feb 28, 2014 © Imanol Miranda.
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.
Not the kind you climb or fall from. No, this is the old hierarchy. The only one that never changes its mind.
Death.
Now, people like to argue about who’s on top. Kings, presidents, champions, loudmouths, quiet geniuses. Everybody’s got a ranking system. Gold medals, blue checkmarks, numbers on a screen. But death doesn’t read résumés. Doesn’t check the guest list. Doesn’t care if you arrived in a limousine or walked in barefoot. Death’s the great equalizer, but that’s only half the story. Because equality is what happens after. Hierarchy is what happens before.
You see, death sits above everything. Always has. Silent boss. Final supervisor. The one who never clocks out. No appeals process. No union negotiations. When death calls your number, it doesn’t matter how high you thought you were standing.
I’ve known men who owned cities and men who owned a guitar and a suitcase. Same ending. Same silence. Different stories, sure, but the same last page. People spend their lives trying to outrun it. Build taller buildings. Louder legacies. Bigger mirrors. But death doesn’t chase. It waits. And that’s why it always wins. Funny thing is, once you know who’s really in charge, a lot of other hierarchies start to look like paper crowns. Power gets smaller. Ego gets lighter. Fear gets honest. The clock on the wall becomes louder than the crowd outside. That’s why some people live gentle, and some live fast, and some pretend they’ll live forever. But the wise ones, they tip their hat to the truth. They know death’s running the joint, so they stop wasting time arguing about seating charts.
They love who they love.
They say what they mean.
They sing while the song’s still playing.
Because death isn’t just the end it’s the frame.
It’s the reason the picture matters at all.
//skull made of clay sitting on the top of my hairdo
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"Eight Expressions" is a sculptural series designed for The Black Dahlia Show at 21 Grand Art Gallery in Oakland, California. For this series, I explored my deep interest in true crime through multiple wall pieces that drew allusions to Disney’s Snow White character and the infamous Black Dahlia murder in Los Angeles, California, 1947. This project delicately balanced terror with beauty through use of glamorous glittery materials, alluring Hollywood folklore, and one of the most horrific unsolved crimes in American history.
118 x 54 x 54 inches
Acrylic paint, glitter flake, molded urethane foam
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08/04/2017 : Le Puy-Sainte-Réparade, Château La Coste : exposition Mountains and Seas (Ai Weiwei)
The Bike Grinder
I have a very personal inner spirit that yearns for the exceptional. I absolutely desire to live passionately, and this drive seems to be inherent to my core being. I’m visually inspired by nature, culture and concepts such as truth.
~ Craig Tracy
See our interview with BodyPainter Craig Tracy: www.adistinctivestyle.com/issue/22468/9
A Glitch “Beauté Perturbatrice (Ενοχλεί) ~ Ètude V”
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
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...
On Thursday 30th June, dot-art ran it's first Introduction to Life Drawing day, led by Roy Munday in Liverpool City Centre. Life model Arthur posed for participants, who were taught the basic skills required, and given individual tuition and feedback.
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
Today we celebrate a voice that sounds like it fell from the moon, bounced off a Berlin rooftop, and landed right in the middle of a punk rock carnival. I’m talking about Nina Hagen.
Now Nina, she wasn’t just a singer. No, she was more like a thunderstorm wearing lipstick. Born in East Berlin back when the wall cut the city like a scar, she grew up where art and politics were tangled together like headphones in your pocket. Her mother was an actress, the kind who knew how to command a room, and Nina learned early that a stage isn’t just a place to stand, it’s a place to explode.
Some singers warm up their voice before a show. Nina sounded like she warmed up by talking to aliens and gargling with lightning. She started out singing in East Germany, state-approved songs, tidy arrangements, the kind of music that behaved itself. But Nina wasn’t the behaving type. You could hear it in her voice, that wild operatic yodel that could turn into a punk scream before you had time to blink. Eventually she drifted west, like a strange bird flying over the wall before it came down. And once she landed in the West Berlin underground in the late ’70s—well, that’s when things really got interesting.
Punk was already stomping around the clubs, safety pins and leather jackets everywhere, but Nina showed up dressed like a cosmic cabaret star who’d just stepped out of a science fiction opera. The Nina Hagen Band kicked up a racket that mixed rock guitars, opera scales, reggae grooves, and whatever else happened to wander into the room.
Listening to her records is like flipping through radio stations on a spaceship. One minute she’s singing sweet and theatrical, the next minute she’s howling like a wolf that just read Nietzsche. She could hit notes that would make opera singers blink twice and she’d do it over a punk riff that sounded like it was welded together in a garage.
But Nina wasn’t just noise and spectacle. She had that fearless thing about her. The kind of artist who’d sing about politics, spirituality, love, UFOs, sometimes all in the same breath. She made music the way some people make collages: tearing pieces from everywhere and gluing them together until the whole thing starts glowing. And if you ever saw her on television back in the day, you’d know she had the spirit of a vaudeville comedian, a punk prophet, and a cartoon character all rolled into one pair of platform boots.
Some voices try to sound pretty. Nina’s voice tried to sound free. And that’s a rare thing. You know, music history is full of people who followed the map. Nina Hagen was the one who drew monsters in the margins and said, “Let’s go there.”
So wherever you are today, put on one of her records sometime. Let that voice rattle the furniture a little. It might remind you that music doesn’t always have to walk politely through the door. Sometimes it crashes through the ceiling wearing glitter and combat boots.
ink, watercolor on paper
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A Glitch "Polysémie series BDSM (πολυσυμία) ~ 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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Friendly Fire (site-specific sculpture)
Year: 2006
Materials: wood, acrylic, metal
Dimensions: 215 x 185 x 81 inches
Information: “Friendly Fire” was conceived through my 4-month Residency as part of the SF Recycling & Disposal Artist-in-Residence (AIR) Program. With 24-hour access to their wonderful studio facilities and support from their expert staff, I was able to produce “Friendly Fire”, a large-scale sculpture series uniting the surrounding Brisbane Mountain range with my deep appreciation for Archie Comics. With recycled wood gleaned from the exhibition site I was able to launch a vibrant campfire scene with abstracted Archie iconography. The 6 large-scale sculptures formed a heart-warming view of American culture and mythology, with fluorescent hard-edge colors inspired by the safety vests worn by the facility’s personnel. By imaginatively connecting the industrialized architecture with a rustic cultural pastime I was able to meet the challenges of this most fantastic landscape.
artist Eric Kelly III displays one of a series of Barack Obama portraits that he was showing at Blue Coffee Café (Durham, NC 2010)
Obra: En Casa/ En Kabul.
Autor: Tony Kushner.
Dirección: Carlos Gandolfo.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía. (Junto a Carlos Gandolfo y Florencia Del Gener)
Diseño de Vestuario. (Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Complejo Teatral de Buenos Aires Teatro San Martín.
Sala Casacuberta
Temporada: 2004.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.
Obra: En Casa/ En Kabul.
Autor: Tony Kushner.
Dirección: Carlos Gandolfo.
Labor: Diseño de Escenografía. (Junto a Carlos Gandolfo y Florencia Del Gener)
Diseño de Vestuario. (Junto a Florencia Del Gener).
Teatro: Complejo Teatral de Buenos Aires Teatro San Martín.
Sala Casacuberta
Temporada: 2004.
Fotos: Mariana Del Gener.