Canadian artist Nicole Dextras has created an amazing series of three-dimensional words fabricated by hand in ice. The installations, "speak to how the viewer’s gaze frames and informs the landscape. The installations have varied from 8-foot high ice letters on the Yukon River to 18-inch high letters set in downtown Toronto."
The letters are then left to let the temperature of the space to affect their meaning, altering their scope through the melting process.
I live in a multi-unit urban building, and so share a small yard with three other folks/couples. We have a sidewalk on our street, and a little drive, plus a walkway that unites all of our doors. All concrete, and usually all shoveled when it's snowy out. (By me. You're welcome, guy on the end).
And yet, it never fails. One of my neighbors will walk through the yard when it's snowy out. I have no idea why. One, it gets your shoes unnecessarily wet. Two, it's safer and only takes ten extra seconds to walk on the sidewalk THAT I JUST SHOVELED FOR YOU. But, three, and most importantly,
Swiss artist Felice Varini has been experimenting with optical illustions for nearly thirty years, and from the impressive scale and experience of these anamorphic installations, I think it's say to say he's figured it out.
Last summer, during my-mom-is-so-awesome-she-bought-me-a-trip-to-Columbus-Indiana-which-is-full-of-amazing-modern-architecture trip (see here), we visited the Indianapolis Museum of Art, which features a pretty great collection, given its size. In the contemporary wing, on the fourth floor, we were fortunate enough to see (and stand on) "Floor" by Do Ho Suh.
And it was terrifying.
Chicago-based artist Kurt Perschke has been working for years on "The Red Ball Project," a global photography adventure featuring some of the world's greatest cities and a 15-foot inflatable red sphere.
The ball becomes a temporary installation, but also engages the population in a unique way. Perschke says,
Through the RedBall Project, I utilize my opportunity as an artist to be a catalyst for new encounters within the everyday. Through the magnetic, playful, and charismatic nature of the RedBall the work is able to access the imagination embedded in all of us.
I believe it's a scientific fact that kids love stickers. They'll adhere them to any surface they can get their little hands on. This past December, Yayoi Kusama constructed a large domestic environment at the Gallery of Modern Art in Brisbane, painted it entirely white and then handed out colored dot stickers to the children who visited the museum. The kids were invited to put the stickers anywhere they chose in the blank room, transforming it into a prismatic explosion of color and sensory overload.
Shanghai-based multidisciplinary design studio Super Nature created this (very merry) art installation called Weaving Forest for the Detour 2011 festival in Hong Kong. The installation consists of two giant wooden reindeer sculptures and a series of smaller structures connected by long strings of yarn.
Metropolis II is kinetic sculpture by artist Chris Burden. It's 10 feet tall, 28 feet wide, and features more than 1,100 toy cars racing around 18 lanes of mini-freeway. It took the artist and his assistants more than four years to complete, and has now sold for millions of dollars and is available for public viewing at the Los Angeles Country Museum of Art.
If you've spent even a tiny amount of time on ManMade, you'll know I'm a big believer of the beauty of type, letters, and words in art projects. Something special happens when the visual component of the letters meets their message, all happening in an actual, physical location.
Spencer Finch's installation 366 is "based on the year 1862, Emily Dickinson's annus mirabilis, when she wrote an amazing 366 poems in 365 days. It is a real-time memorial to that year, which burns for exactly one year. The sculpture is comprised of 366 individual candles arranged in linear sequence, each of which burns for 24 hours. The color of each candle matches a color mentioned in the corresponding poem; poems in which no color is mentioned are made out of natural paraffin."
Merry Christmas to me, friends. I'm totally jazzed by these humorous, conceptual art pieces by Berlin-based Sarah Illenberger.
If there are gonna be tanks, then this is the only way we wanna seem 'em: boldly colored, deflate-able, and safe for kids to play on.
Apparently, at the end of the exhibition, the piece was deflated for a group of youngsters:
We don't have much else to say, since out source is in German, but check out more photos and details:
We've seen our fair share of knitted anatomy before, but none so ambitious or well executed as Transcending the Material by Ben Cuevas. "The installation piece Ben Cuevas chose to showcase at The Wassaic Project features a knitted skeleton seated atop a pyramid of Borden’s condensed milk cans and a cloud of screen prints on Plexi glass suspended above it. The knitted skeleton is seated in the lotus position. The prints are of disembodied anatomical parts photographed in high resolution with diagrammatic illustrative overlays. Ben conceives of the piece as a reference to material culture and Wassaic’s local history (The Borden Company had a condensed milk factory in Wassaic) and a meditation on transcendence."
All of which is very, very cool, but that knitted skeleton, oh, that knitted skeleton.
Danish-born and Barcelona-based graphic artist Emil Kozak has a solo show at the Nina Sagt Gallery in Düsseldorf. The collection features graphic, 80s-skateboard-y simplistic images that swing back and forth between art-for-art's-sake and the commercial.
Emil also put together this great video detailing how the whole installation came together.
"I Fly Like Paper Get High Like Planes" is an installation by artist Dawn Ng. She remarks, "[It's] core to my ongoing study of home. Having spent the past 8 years away, I have become obsessed by the notion of home and particularly intrigued by the origin of the word nostalgia which from two Greek roots, nostos, "returning home" and algos "pain."...Symbolic of travel, each paper plane carries this universal desire to leave or return home." [sic]
It seems to be a series of rows of paper airplanes that are not suspended from the ceiling, but attached like a horizontal garland of sorts from a single point of origin.
I'm sure standing in