Needless to say this work hits a number of my buttons. I particularly like how they concentrate on the same beach, returning to it again and again and never straying. It’s a piece about a specific place and how that place relates to the whole world through the detritus of civilisation. It’s fantastic.
Tag Archives: art
There’s a big budget movie adaptation of Edgar Rice Burroughs’ John Carter popping up in the cinemas, which is all well and nice, but Heidi MacDonald has uncovered a much more entertaining version by far. A comic strip done by James Killian Spratt which is loyal to the nudity and violence of ERB’s books. He says:
Since I was drawing initially for my own amusement, with no thought of publishing, I pulled all the normal stops and drew the way I imagined the classic story to be written. The characters are highly underclad, yet oblivious to it; it’s their normal way, and they don’t see much naughty or titillating about it. The men are men and the women are women and blood is red and scary. I set out to be honest with the nudity and violence, and the devil take Pollyanna, she needs to grow up anyway.
It’s a fantastic piece of art-for-art’s-sake, hidden away from view and even now only hosted on some shonky hinternet site. As Heidi says, it really needs to be rescued from obscurity and published in a handsome edition. In some ways it’s up there with Fletcher Hanks, only without the bleak insanity.
Came via Dylan Horrocks who mentioned The First Kingdom which I then very nearly bought some issues of on eBay before stopping myself and thinking “what am I doing?” Seventies underground fantasy comics are seductive but no, one really shouldn’t.
Fart jokes were always funny.
This painting, Born with Every Bright Morning by Chris Murtagh, is a delight for anyone familiar with the streets of Digbeth, Birmingham.
Click through for more details.
Samuel Spade’s jaw was long and bony, his chin a jutting v under the more flexible v of his mouth. His nostrils curved back to make another, smaller, v. His yellow-grey eyes were horizontal. The V motif was picked up again by thickish brows rising outward from twin creases above a hooked nose, and his pale brown hair grew down—from high flat temples—in a point on his forehead. He looked rather pleasantly like a blond Satan.
Fascinating stuff on a number of levels, most relevant to me being the intersection of artistic intention and computer algorithm. I wonder what living authors would make of this?
Etsuko Ichikawa takes molten glass and swirls it around on paper. The end results are beautiful, like the finest of brushstrokes rendered in carbon, and the process itself is entrancing. This is a lovely film by Alistair Banks Griffin.
This hits so many of my buttons it’s untrue. As you probably know, Google have undertaken a program of digitising libraries full of books. Those which are out of copyright are available to search through online. As with any massive undertaking, and this one is really massive, there will be errors. And some of those errors will be really interesting.
The Art of Google Books is similar in many ways to John Rafman‘s 9-eyes and other experiments in searching Google Street View for that which can be considered “art”. I’d go so far as to say it’s similar to panning for gold – ploughing through endless pages of perfectly scanned books looking for that unique error, that glitch in the sand, the place where the mechanised system produced something wrong or different to the norm and the algorithm let it through.
There are currently 54 pages of Google Book Art to browse through. Here’s a small selection that caught my eye.
via Bruce Sterling, I think