Photography - Mark Mawson

What is so fascinating about watching a person, falling into deep water, seen from the underwater perspective?
I guess many people would say, it's the slow motion effect.
But is that the only thing? Of course not. There are also the "wings of water" that suddenly grow on the person's arms, legs, torso and head, the streams of water that lay on the falling, sinking body like fluid, transparent clothes. When you're watching air and water combining, different spaces that add and separate each other at the same time under the surface of an ocean. Or maybe just a glass of water...

Another thought of me is about one of the oldest, most referred and so highly influential motive of flowers.
It would definitely fill more than just a few books or blog pages to write about the historical, poetical and still mysterious ambience of these silent beings here.
Well, the thing about water and flowers of every kind is the fact that I discovered an artist who manages to combine the character and looks of both elements in a really magical way. When I look at his works, their style and technique seem familiar, but they also have a literally deeper impact on me.

Love, tenderness, sadness, loneliness, darkness. You name it, when all these moods and feelings fulfill your heart and mind for a second at the same time, you could be stunned by one of the photo series by Mark Mawson.


Mawson is an award-winning british photographer with many years of experience in capturing a full spectrum of people and places and specializes in underwater shootings. I'm gonna show you a part of his "Aqueous" series, but the selection of pictures was a very tough one again. His website contains a wide range of other works, but especially the Aqueous ones is represented by several galleries.

www.markmawson.com 

(and do not forget to check out his Aqueous movie!)

All pictures in this post are copyright by Mark Mawson.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photography - Rafa Zubiria

Do you remember the famous scene from "The Wizard of Oz", Judy Garland's farmhouse blown up by a tornado, getting higher and higher into the sky?
Spontanesly, that's what crossed my mind when I first spotted one of Rafa Zubiria's pictures.

But when I kept looking at them, a mixture of some other, far more subtle moods took hold of me. I remembered my childhood, dreaming of physically impossible things like flying houses, elephants balancing on a mouse' paw, or even myself, hovering over the city roofs. When I took a walk in green parks with my parents, passing bushes and flowers, simple but nevertheless idyllic places that made me feel safe and imagine things.
The visual style and quality of Zubiria's series "No Way Home", looking a little bit like old polaroids or family pictures, treasured in thick photo albums since decades, contribute to these feelings and memories.
All of them do have that impact on me, but of course, some of them are clearly more recognizable as post digital work as well. Maybe that's the only detail I'm annoyed at it. If you wanna present an illusion, it should be done in a nearly perfect way. Filip Dujardin, the Belgian photographer whose works I portrayed in my last post, did that quiet well (at least you need a bit longer to figure out the "fake truth" of them).

Both photographers' series share some kind of playful, dreamy aspect, but in a different way. In my opinion, especially Zubiria's work with its title "No Way Home" evokes a more melancholic character. But anyway, right at this moment, it feels quite wrong the me, comparing the two of them directly. There are similarities, but also clear differences that lead back to their different motivations and backgrounds I think.


If you wanna see more of his very interesting, mysterious and beautiful work, also join:
www.rafazubiria.es
 
All pictures in this post are copyright of Rafa Zubiria.

  

  

 

 

 

 

 

Photography - Filip Dujardin

  

The first label I introduced on this blog was "Soviet Visions" (which you already noticed, I hope). Portraying old, used or unused buildings and sculptures in former Soviet states.
In a way, I return to these strange, abandoned giants now by visiting some other "constructions" that catched my eye some time ago. I can still feel the spirit of the Soviet buildings, when I look at these pictures of Belgian photographer Filip Dujardin.
 

Initially working as an architectural photographer, he felt the urge to create his "own" buildings instead of documenting the works of others. So he simply started to use his children's Lego system to figure out new shapes and structures for buildings, continuing with digital modeling, photoshop, etc., but still using a lot of real footage as source material for creating the surfaces and details of his fictional constructions.
And yes, they are fictional. On the first sight, the pictures seem to be real, showing old or post modern architecture from the 60ies or 70ies (which Dujardin especially likes, because of their patina that helps him to create the haptic authencity). 

The fact that many people are guessing if these buildings are real or not, looking at them for the first time, turns his work into an interesting riddle.

I'm very keen on buildings from the 60ies and 70ies in general. And the ex-Soviet, abandoned and strange ones in particular. Dujardin's works goes in the same direction, but it contains a new kind of quality that fascinates me.
There's an atmosphere of clarity and pureness in it, that captures me and it feels like another dream to me. Like the one I described before in my blog labels "Digital / Concept Art" about Daniel Dociu and "Animation" about the short movie Quest, that dream has some influence on me and my creative work…

I'm walking upon a smooth hill, and there's a buidling on the top, surrounded by a field of grass. Very clean, shiny and kind of post modern, with a lot of glass. It seems to have two quiet high levels, but with no light in them. 

The weather is cloudy, windy and rainy, but I can't feel any raindrops on my skin. Somehow, a gentle sunray enlightens the upper part of the house. That's why I believe I can recognize a telescope, standing behind the big windows on the front. But nobody's there. I'm walking slowly thru the grass towards the house. All alone.

 

Filip Dujardin was born 1971 in Gent, Belgium. He studied history of art, specializing in architecture and is a photographer of architecture, interiors and design. Real and some different ones.
 

www.filipdujardin.be

Animation - Quest (1996)

In my last post I wrote about Daniel Dociu and a specific kind of scenery, which always inspired me aesthetically and conceptually when I created a new world on paper or as a production designer in movies.

This "dream" can be seen as an experience of deep loneliness and exploration. Once again, my description of it:

I always loved the idea of being thrown into an extremely abstract, strange world, abandoned by all human beings. A world, just filled with gigantic building-like complexes and enormous empty space that surrounds you. Built by someone or somewhat, but you have no idea by who or what. 

You look at that never-ending horizon, consisting of complexes, spaces and paths, but you're completely alone. And, on the other hand, you may assume that this world must have been populated once, because the surfaces and buildings don't seem to be created by nature. Nevertheless, they're just there now. 

And you're the only one living being at all who is left and can explore this world.

The following animated short movie Quest was a kind of creative revelation to me.

The film was made by Tyron Montgomery and Thomas Stellmach at the school of arts and design Kassel, Germany, and released in 1996. They were even awarded with an Oscar and the movie was highly critically acclaimed.

The film contains the basic elements of my "dream" and it explores a lot of philosophical issues, telling a simple story which takes place in a surrealistic, abstract environment. It mostly speaks for itself and, in my opinion, it easily takes its place along other masterpieces like Stanley Kubrick's 2001-A Space Odyssey or Francis Ford Coppola's Apocalypse Now Redux, despite the extremely different length and budget. It just doesn't matter, because its universal issues and depth isn't any less convincing.

Take your time, when you watch it. It's worth it.

Concept / Digital Art - Daniel Dociu

I always loved the idea of being thrown into an extremely abstract, strange world, abandoned by all human beings. A world, just filled with gigantic building-like complexes and enormous empty space that surrounds you. Built by someone or somewhat, but you have no idea by who or what. You look at that never-ending horizon, consisting of infinite structures, spaces and paths, but you're completely alone. And, on the other hand, you may assume that this world must have been populated once, because the surfaces and buildings don't seem to be "naturally" created. Nevertheless, they're just there now. And you're the only living being at all who is left and free explore this world.

This abstract "dream" is a basic scenery which has always aesthetically and conceptually inspired me. This post about Daniel Dociu and the next one, involving a specific short movie, are basically motivated by that "dream" of mine. And I think some others will follow.


New Worlds..
I started to draw and design things on paper at a very early age. There were two essential themes that I always referred to. Monsters and robots. I'm still fascinated by both of them.
And when you're trying to create such beings, it's almost inevitable to find appropriate environments and new worlds they can live in. I've always been driven by creating such new utopian spaces in my mind until now.
This passion for utopias, fantasy or science-fiction themes in general, had an enormous influence on my creative activities and studies in scenographical design as well.

Films..
My other great passion have always been the movies. Surrealistic, sci-fi like ones in particular.
Especially when you're personally involved in filmmaking as I was, you're always becoming a part of a new world. It doesn't matter if it's a fiction or nonfiction story the filmmakers want to tell, you are creating a unique atmosphere, set in our everyday reality or an artificial one. As a production designer, I experienced both of them. Nevertheless, it's always about creating a new world.

And then, this one artist..
When remembering all the films, exhibitions, galleries and museums I've seen and visited in my life, there are countless artists that touched my heart. But there hasn't been one so far who really seems to have stolen some of my oldest, deepest and, unfortunately, unrealized dreams. Until now. About one or two months ago, I discovered some works of conceptual artist and video game lead art director Daniel Dociu.
Born in Cluj, Romania, he graduated as an industrial designer. He found his way to the United States in 1991, and from there into the world of video games. He has worked for many companies, including EA Games, Microsoft, Wizards of the coasts and for the last few years he has been at ArenaNet in Seattle.
It wasn't just awesome to look at them. It was really breathtaking.
The landscapes, the buildings, the creatures and the whole atmosphere and the worlds he created, combining all these elements, overwhelms me again and again. Especially because they literally regenerate my two big interests, new worlds and films, which I described in the beginning.
My creative roots mainly consist of drawing in its pure version. When I looked at Dociu's works for the first time (and ever since then), my hands immediately began to itch and indeed, I sat down and started to draw again after quiet a long time.


Actually I don't want to write too much about all the statements Daniel made on several websites. I just want you to present my selection of his pieces of work, which, by the way, was a really, really tough thing to do.


All the shown pictures below are copyright 2012 Daniel Dociu.

see them also on

www.tinfoilgames.com

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

  

 

Big Small Worlds - Jiang Pengyi

When I was watching TV as a kid, I always enjoyed the old asian disaster movies from the 60s, 70s or early 80s. Actually I never watched one of these movies in full length, but I remember several scenes on land, mostly on the sea or inside a ship. Crewmen fighting Godzilla, or other monster creatures, coming from deep water or outer space, attacking them.
Sometimes, they were roaring, or they just acted without any sound (At least I believe to remember some of them not being loud, but surrounded by the noise of destruction caused by them. Looking back, I think all these mute creatures, the bursting, cracking and sinking ships, the sound of the waves, the screaming people and the often used slow motion in these sequences were creating the special atmosphere and trashy, but unique mood in these films).

Of course, CGI effects weren't used during that period. At least until the early 80s. But that's exactly one of the reasons why these old disaster and fantasy movies look so authentic and real in a way, especially the ones from asia (another favourite example of mine is "The Neverending Story" (1984), directed by Wolfgang Petersen). In general, I'm a big fan of any pre-CGI effects, used in films like "2001-A Space Odyssey" (1968) by Stanley Kubrick, or well done combinations like Duncan Jones' "Moon" (2009) or Christopher Nolan's Batman Reboot Trilogy and "Inception" (2010).

Now, I found these works of Chinese photographer and artist Jiang Pengyi (born in Yuanjiang, Hunan Province in 1977, he currently lives in Beijing, China).

I can see destruction, devastation and loneliness in the images, combined with a hopeless, desperate mood, that fascinates me. 

Nevertheless, I remember the endless streets and amounts of cars moving thru cities like Shanghai, Mexico City, Los Angeles or Cairo, tons over tons of metal and steel, transporting billions of people every day, every hour, every second. Huge vivid urban spaces, and on the other hand, there are memories of pictures of abandoned, destructed places by war or ecological, geological events. Movement and standstill, Life and death.
There seems to be a war between civilization and nature, that results in casualties on both sides. On Pengyi's images, the remaining elements of cities that "invaded" nature's space, not only seem to have lost that battle, they look "lost in nature" in every possible way. But it doesn't change the fact that nature and artificial (human) constructions aren't separable anymore.
There's also a strange, slightly utopian mood in the artist's images, that stunned me.
If I try to imagine the scenarios as real sized cities and places, I can see the contrary of a war between nature and man. It could be a symbiosis of artificial elements and given natural environment. Built, grown and living at the same time in the same space.

Pengyi himself commented his work as "photographs of miniatures which communicate recurrent themes like the excessive urbanization, redevelopment and demolition in the Beijing City" on www.blindspotgallery.com.

Unregistered City, No.1 (2008-2010)

All Back to Dust, No.2

Unregistered City, No.7 (2008-2010)

Unregistered City, No.5 (2008-2010)

Unregistered City, No.3 (2008-2010)

Unregistered City, No.2 (2008-2010)

Big Small Worlds - Paolo Ventura

One of the essential things I remember about my grandmother are her so often told childhood memories of Italy in the 1930's. The trips to the countryside she made with her family, the simple village life and of course the influences of the facist regime, led by Benito Mussolini. 

In 1946, she and a good friend of her emigrated to Switzerland. She was sixteen years old, didn't have a job and couldn't speak german at all. But her head was full of the most beautiful and most terrible memories.

Nevertheless, she started to work, gave birth to four children, my mother, my aunt and my two uncles, and raised them.

The works I'm gonna write about here, could have been easily created by her. When I look at these images, something touches me very deeply. Although it doesn't seem to be connected with my own past, my own life or experiences. 

I think it's because they remind me of my grandmother's stories. And especially her absolute all time favorite movie. Even more than just a movie, it's a great piece of art that reflects her deepest italian roots - Amarcord by legendary director Federico Fellini.

Paolo Ventura was born in Milan, Italy in 1968, now living in New York City. 

He's a photographer whose works are mostly based on model work, resulting in remarkable, unique images that reflect the past, the present, or a kind of personal visions of them. His most known series of images are Behind the Walls, Civil War, The Automaton, War Stories and War Souvenir. Ventura's latest exhibition took place in the Obsolete Gallery, Los Angeles, from February to March 2012, called The Funeral of the Anarchist.

All of Ventura's series contain a lot of (extremely accurately built) historical details, fragments, materials and so called "spirit of the past", that literally makes you able to breath the foggy air of northern italian cities. Nevertheless, authentic documentary of the (italian or european like) past doesn't seem to be the artist's goal in general. It's far more about recreating and imaging his own memories, dreams and realities which are a hybrid of italian past, european atmosphere, and also very contemporary issues like the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. For him, the past doesn't seem to be something just to be remembered, there's also a chance to manipulate it, reinvent it, or, as he said by himself, "you can really have fun with the past"…

What's the purpose of paintings and photographs?

In my opinion, simply to express more than thousand words ever could. Therefore, Paolo Ventura's work is a perfect example.

Similar to Alan Wolfson's work (I told about him in my previous post), Ventura is inventing worlds. Light and shadow play out in a very precise way in both artists works. To me, Ventura's images seem to be a bit more personal, mainly because there are people involved, human figures that complete and fulfill the special, strange moods.

Surprisingly, Ventura spends only a week to 10 days building the set, at an average cost of around $30. He uses foam board, cardboard, plastic and wood - basically, anything that he can get hold of. Once the set is completed, he takes Polaroids to use as a reference for minor adjustments. He then shoots with a Pentax 6x7 camera from a fixed position, using only natural daylight, preferring to capture the scene on slightly overcast days. In each image, Ventura wants to create his own "fog" and blend the artifice with the "real".

It was quiet tough to select some pictures. Actually you can't extract any of them, because every part of the series belongs to the others. But I hope you'll get a convincing impression of this remarkable artist's work.

www.paoloventura.com 

Behind the Wall (2006)

The Goldfish (featuring Lily Cole, for Vs Magazine, 2011)

The Automaton (2011)

The Automaton (2011)

Winter Stories (2009)

Winter Stories (2009)

Winter Stories (2009)

Winter Stories (2009)

Winter Stories (2009)

Iraq (2008)