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Branch Forum time again. This is my method for sorting out the seating arrangements. Each colour represents a different team. I try to mix the teams up as much as possible for that people get to chat with others they might not work with everyday.
Thursday, 9th November 2017.
Creative Ecology: David Tomb: Project Look tours with the Palo Alto Art Center and Junior Museum and Zoo
See it's like 'proJECT' like in to project something...but then it's also like 'PRAHject' like to work on a project.
I'm so clever.
CARDBOARD PROJECT, workshop de investigación del catón como elemento arquitectónico.
Del 23 de diciembre al 15 de enero en LAVA Valladolid
Patrocinado por la ETSA de Valladolid, Ayto de Valladolid, LAVA y Grupo San Cayetano.
Cartoneadores: Javier Arias, Javier Blanco, Javier Sanchez, Pedro J. Sánchez, Luis Manaya, Yolanda Martínez, Rubén Hernández, David Senovilla, Katalin Rodríguez, Antonio Olavarrieta, Teresa BL, Jesús Javier Zaera, Sven Neumann...
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© Ruben_HC - ruheca.com
*يآورد رآح آللي يجيبك ويهديك
رآح آلذي يقبلك مني هديه
يآورد آشوفك بس مآلي غرض فيك
لآيقبلك خآطر ولآمزهريه
يآورد سآمحني وتشكر مسآعيك
آللي حصل يآورد غصب عليه
يآمآفعلت لخآطر عيون مهديك
ضحيت مثلك لين صرت آلضحيه
مد آلزمن يد آلجفآ .. قآل: يكفيك
آلآيآم مآتصدق وتبقى وفيه
تسرق هنى عمرك ولآعآد تعطيك
آلآ آلقليل آن كآنت آلآمآل حيه
وآنته قطفت آلورد من روض غآلي
غصن الهوى ياماتضللت فيه
الورد دونه شوك لويجرح يديك
اصبر وخل عزوم قلبك قويه
I'm making up for some weeks I've missed. this week' assignment was fire. I took this tonight at a restaurant's outdoor fire place.
We at CRY IIT Kharagpur volunteer chapter organized its first mass photo project which deals with trying to find out what dreams our Young India has. This project was channelized with other action projects to raise awareness regarding child education and child rights.
Rosina Cafe in Karori mall.
Ever since I first saw this cafe, about six years ago, I've wanted to take a photo of the name. Why? because Rosina was my mother's name and I've never seen it anywhere before.
I was in the mall after they closed today (I had an after work appointment with my GP) so took the opportunity to snap it while it was empty.
Monday, 18th July 2016
June 6, 2018 - The Gravity Project in Franklinton located at 500 West Broad Street. Architect: NBBJ.
Franklinton is the fourth of this years Columbus Art Walks & Landmarks Talks. In conjunction with Columbus Landmarks Foundation and Columbus Public Health with support from the Greater Columbus Arts Council.
The Farmworker Immersion Project placed students in the community to learn about farmworker rights and immigration issues. The students were guided through a first-hand experience of farm work life. They visited a local berry farm and learned about the agricultural business, then worked in the field and harvested berries.
#264 of 365 Daily Drawings
Inspiration: Highway to Hell
Result: Route 666
Materials: Faber-Castell Graphite pencils in a Stillman & Birn Epsilon series sketchbook ( 21.6 cm 27.9 cm / 8 1/2" x 11")
Location: Home
Note: He should have taken a left at Death Valley...just saying.
The view from my study window while I was ironing. The season is definitely changing.
Sunday, 10th April 2016
Tseng Kwong Chi, Born Hong Kong, China 1950-
died New York City 1990
Paris, France, from the series East Meets West, 1983, printed 2008, gelatin silver print, frame: 37 1⁄4 × 37 1⁄4 in.
n his signature series East Meets West, Tseng Kwong Chi created a role for himself he called the "Ambiguous Ambassador." Wearing a Mao suit (the gray uniform associated with the Chinese Communist Party) and mirrored sunglasses, he posed next to landmarks and monuments, many of them emblems of American national identity.
Tseng highlighted the signifying power of dress and posture. As an immigrant and person of Chinese descent, he was also conscious of how Asians are stereotyped in the West. His donning of the Mao suit in public was a tongue-in-cheek performance of "Chineseness" that both played to and subverted assumptions about race, culture, and nationality.
“I am an inquisitive traveler, a witness of my time, and an ambiguous ambassador.”
Tseng Kwong Chi was a conceptual performance artist and photographer. In addition to documenting New York City’s downtown art scene of the 1980s, he is known for creating irreverent quasi-self-portraits that depict him in a persona he called the "Ambiguous Ambassador."
Tseng was born in Hong Kong, where his Chinese Nationalist parents escaped following the Chinese Communist Revolution in 1949. In 1966, Tseng and his family emigrated to Vancouver, Canada, where he completed high school. He later studied photography at the École Supérieure d'Arts Graphiques in Paris, France.
Upon moving to New York City in 1978, Tseng quickly found himself at the heart of its burgeoning avant-garde art and countercultural movement. At queer-friendly East Village venues such as Club 57 and the Mudd Club, Tseng befriended and photographed artists including Keith Haring, Ann Magnuson, and Kenny Scharf. During his long friendship with Haring, he documented the painter’s work, including his early guerilla-style subway drawings. In Tseng’s own practice, an interest in performance, identity, and portraiture emerged. For photo essays published in the alternative paper The Soho Weekly, Tseng satirically fashioned his artist friends as heteronormative suburban preppies (It's a Reagan World!, 1981) and traveled to DC to take the portraits of conservative politicians such as Jerry Falwell in front of a crumpled American flag (Moral Majority, 1981).
The mutable and socially constructed nature of identity is explored in Tseng’s most well-known body of work, a group of photographs originally titled East Meets West. These approximately 150 images constitute a continuous project yet move through several discernible phases. Between 1979 and 1982, Tseng traveled around the United States, posing in his “Mao suit” next to well-known monuments and landmarks. Starting in 1983, he went international, eventually creating images in Europe, Brazil, and Japan. In 1986, Tseng began photographing himself mostly in dramatic natural landscapes. Around this time, he started referring to his series by a new title, The Expeditionary Works.
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"Women, queer artists, and artists of color have finally become the protagonists of recent American art history rather than its supporting characters. This is the lesson to be learned from the programming at New York’s Whitney Museum of American Art since it reopened in 2015, and it is now the big takeaway in the nation’s capital, at the Smithsonian American Art Museum, whose contemporary art galleries have reopened after a two-year closure.
During that time, architect Annabelle Selldorf refurbished these galleries, which have the challenge of pushing art history’s limits without going too far. Her interventions in these spaces are fairly inoffensive. Mainly, she’s pared down some of the structural clutter, removing some walls that once broke up a long, marble-floored hallway. To the naked eye, the galleries are only slightly different.
What is contained within, however, has shifted more noticeably—and is likely to influence other museums endeavoring to diversify their galleries. For one thing, I have never encountered a permanent collection hang with more Latinx and Native American artists, who, until very recently, were severely under-represented in US museums. That unto itself is notable.
It is a joy to see, presiding over one tall gallery, three gigantic beaded tunics courtesy of Jeffrey Gibson, a Choctaw artist who will represent the US at the next Venice Biennale. Printed with bombastic patterning and hung on tipi poles, they hang over viewers’ heads and allude to the Ghost Shirts used by members of the Sioux to reach ancestral spirits. One says on it “WITHOUT YOU I’M NOTHING.” That statement can also be seen as a confession on behalf of SAAM’s curators to the artists now included in this rehang: a multiplicity of perspectives is more nourishing than having just one.
Something similar can be seen in Judith F. Baca’s Las Tres Marías (1976). The installation features a drawing of a shy-looking chola on one side and an image of Baca as a tough-as-nails Pachuca on the other. These are both Chicana personae—the former from the ’70s, the latter from the ’40s—and the third component, a long looking glass, sutures the viewer into the piece. It’s no surprise this piece is shaped like a folding mirror, an item used to examine how one may present to the outside world. Baca suggests that a single reflection isn’t enough. To truly understand one’s self, many are needed.
It is hardly as though the Smithsonian American Art Museum’s collection ever lacked diversity. Nam June Paik’s Electronic Superhighway: Continental U.S., Alaska, Hawaii (2002), a video installation featuring a map of the country with each state’s borders containing TV monitors, is a crown jewel of the collection. It has returned once more, where it now faces a 2020 Tiffany Chung piece showing a United States strung with thread. So, too, has Alma Thomas’s magnum opus, Red Azaleas Singing and Dancing Rock and Roll Music (1976), a three-part stunner showing an array of petal-like red swatches drifting across white space.
But the usual heroes of 20th century art history are notably absent. Partly, that is because the Smithsonian American Art Museum doesn’t own notable works by canonical figures like Andy Warhol, Jasper Johns, and Robert Rauschenberg. (For those artists, you’d have to head to the National Gallery of Art.) Yet it is also partly because the curators want to destabilize the accepted lineage of postwar American art, shaking things up a bit and seeing where they land.
There is, of course, the expected Abstract Expressionism gallery, and while works by Willem de Kooning and Clyfford Still are present, those two are made to share space with artists whose contributions are still being properly accounted for. The standouts here are a prismatic painting by Ojibwe artist George Morrison and a piquant hanging orb, formed from knotted steel wire, by Claire Falkenstein.
This being the nation’s capital, there is also an entire space devoted to the Washington Color School. Come for Morris Louis’s 20-foot-long Beta Upsilon (1960), on view for the first time in 30 years, now minus the pencil marks left on its vast white center by a troublemaking visitor a long time ago. Stay for Mary Pinchot Meyer’s Half Light (1964), a painting that features a circle divided into colored quadrants, one of which has two mysterious dots near one edge.
From there, the sense of chronology begins to blur. The Baca piece appears in a gallery that loosely takes stock of feminist art of the 1970s; a clear picture of the movement’s aims fails to emerge because the various artists’ goals appear so disparate. It’s followed by an even vaguer gallery whose stated focus is “Multiculturalism and Art” during the ’70s and ’80s. Beyond the fact that all five artists included are not white, the gallery doesn’t have much of a binding thesis.
This partial view of recent art history leads to gaps, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. It’s a good thing because it offers due recognition for art-historical nonpareils. Audrey Flack is represented by Queen (1976), a Photorealist painting showing a view of a sliced orange, a rose, photographs, a playing card, and trinkets blown up to a towering size. It’s both gaudy and glorious. Hats off to the curators for letting it shine.
Then there are two totem-like sculptures by the late Truman Lowe, a member of the Ho-Chunk Nation, that are allowed to command a tall space of their own. They feature sticks of peeled willow that zigzag through boxy lumber structures, and they refuse to enjoin themselves to any artistic trend. Later on, there are three deliciously odd paintings by Howard Finster, of Talking Heads album cover fame. One shows Jesus descended to a mountain range strewn with people and cars who scale the peaks. Try cramming that into the confines of an accepted art movement.
That’s just three lesser-knowns who make an impact—there are many others on hand, from Ching Ho Cheng to Ken Ohara. And yet, herein lies this hang’s big problem: its gaping omissions in between them all, which are likely to be visible not just to the literati of the art world but to the general public, too.
Despite the focus of these new galleries being the 1940s to now, Pop, Minimalism, Conceptualism, and their resultant offshoots are skipped over entirely as the curators rush through the postwar era in order to get closer to the present. The Paik installation aside, there is almost no video art in this hang (although there is a newly formed space for moving-image work where a Carrie Mae Weems installation can be found), and no digital art or performance documentation at all, which is a shame, given that the museum owns important works by the likes of Cory Arcangel and Ana Mendieta, respectively. The AIDS crisis of the 1980s and ’90s and its devastating impact on the art world isn’t mentioned a single time in the wall text for these new galleries, and queer art more broadly is a blind spot.
Protest art periodically makes the cut, but any invocation of racism, misogyny, colonialism, and the like is typically abstracted or aestheticized. That all makes a work like Frank Romero’s Death of Rubén Salazar (1986) stand out. The painting depicts the 1970 killing of a Los Angeles Times reporter in a café during an unrelated incident amid a Chicano-led protest against the high number of Latino deaths in the Vietnam War. With its vibrant explosions of tear gas (Salazar was killed when a tear gas canister shot by the LA Sheriff Department struck his head) and its intense brushwork, it is as direct as can be—a history painting for our times. So, too, in a much different way, is Consuelo Jimenez Underwood’s Run, Jane, Run! (2004), a piece that ports over the “Immigrant Crossing” sign, first installed near the US-Mexico border in Southern California in the 1990s, and remakes it as a yellow tapestry that is threaded with barbed wire.
In general, this presentation could use more art like Romero and Jimenez Underwood’s. Yet the curators at least cop to the fact they’re seeking to hold handsome craftmanship and ugly historical events in tension, and the methods on display are productive in that regard.
By way of example, there’s Firelei Báez 2022 painting Untitled (Première Carte Pour L’Introduction A L’Histoire De Monde), which features a spray of red-orange paint blooming across a page from an 18th-century atlas documenting Europe’s colonies. One could say Báez’s blast of color recalls the bloodshed of manifest destiny, but that seems like an unfair interpretation for a work that provides so much visual pleasure. Rather than re-presenting the violence of a bygone era, Báez beautifies it. The result allows history to begin anew—on Báez’s own terms."
www.artnews.com/art-news/reviews/smithsonian-american-art...
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Paolo Benigno Aquino IV (Project: The Hapinoy Program), Grand prize winner of the US$25,000 women’s empowerment grant
1. Ready or Not, Here it Comes! (Day 153/365), 2. Michael's Bridge (Day 154/365), 3. Handpainted Beanie - Not for Sale! (Day 155/365), 4. Have a Very Vintage Christmas! (Day 156/365), 5. Winter Blues (Day 157/365), 6. The Landboy's Creation (Day 158/365), 7. This Holiday's for the Birds! (Day 159/365), 8. Angels Walk Among Us (Day 160/365), 9. Holiday Visitor (Day 161/365), 10. Holiday Sparkle (Day 162/365), 11. In Synch (Day 163/365), 12. Maple Cotton Candy (Day 164/365), 13. Obligatory Cat-in-the-Hat (Day 165/365), 14. Could it Be...??? (Day 166/365), 15. Lancers is so Cool, even Santa Eats There! (Day 167/365), 16. Full Bloom (Day 168/365), 17. Just String Me Along (Day 169/365), 18. Yule Log (Day 170/365), 19. Snow Day (Day 171/365), 20. Blue Jay Way (Day 172/365), 21. The Counter Crew (Day 173/365), 22. Are You Listening, Santa? (Day 174/365), 23. Off Course (Day 175/365), 24. Dinner of the Eve (Day 176/365), 25. New Stuff for Xmas! (Day 177/365), 26. Wren Party (Day 178/365), 27. Waitin' at iHop! (Day 179/365), 28. From the Department of Redundancy Department (Day 180/365), 29. Odd Little Tree (Day 181/365), 30. No-Snow Man (Day 182/365), 31. Reflecting on 2009 (Day 183/365)
Sunset made spacey using a cool little app called Tiny Planet.
MISFITS - "Lost In Space"
go!
of all the things they taught you
i'm telling you this, son
all the wars fought before won't compare to this one
giant spiders prepare to take over
here comes another
mutant suicide-squad
you blast them out
but now you're way off course
you start to shiver and shake
i'm calling you, Houston
am i following....
all the right leads?
or am i about to get
lost in space?
when my time comes
they'll write my destiny
will you take this ride?
communication's lost
we crash to the earth
too late to see the giant
spider monster giving birth
the future is here...
and here is the future
am i following....
all the right leads?
or am i about to get
lost in space?
when my time comes
they'll write my destiny
will you take this ride with me?
Postcards for PDX memory championship competition.
designs are made for general audience, highly intelligent people who have confidence in their memorization skills.
The design of the brains conveys intelligence, scientific, and the letters within the brains helps the viewers get the sense of "memory" and how the brains works. The part i enjoyed the most was the color process, my design was pretty much dialed in before the coloring process so, it was fun to see all the different variations i could make.
only thing i wish i could've done was creating words or a message with in the letters inside of brains, that would make a good little bonus for the people who pays extra attentions to my work.
I'm putting together a project for 50 4h kids ages 8 to 18. I hope they like this card. I need different ink (this stuff smears) and we're good to go.
Around this time next year everyone in my office block will be moving to a different office block. I thought it would be interesting to photograph the view from the window on the first working day of each month between now and then. Although I started back at work last week I only thought of it today so this is my March shot. I didn't want to wait until April because, as you can see, we are about to lose the view because of the building going up. Last year a building was dismantled from the same place so the view is relatively new.
Thursday, 16th March 2017.