Gordin’s work is stark and startling. One feels that one has stepped into another’s psyche. That one is on the inside of a face looking out.
Gordin’s work is stark and startling. One feels that one has stepped into another’s psyche. That one is on the inside of a face looking out.
There isn’t much information on Vojnar. His work has this wispy spiritual quality to it. Or maybe its just years of brown outs. I always find it strange to see how many artists who grew up behind the Iron Curtain have surreal work that deals in many ways in flight. Or escape.
Philip Marlow. His paintings are like out of focus photographs. Or a series of brightly lit balls. Like life was floating on the surface of reality. Almost faeire like. I love his work. It has a spiritual quality about it. As if ordinary life were lit up.
I love this artist’s visual work. And I love the voice he has introduced to me.
Stanilsv Topchiy. Stanislav was born in 1974. Finished the Shevchenko State Art School in Kiev.Studied in the National Academy of Fine Arts. Exhibits since 1999. His artworks are presented in private collections in Ukraine, Russia, Germany, the Great Britain, and North Europe countries, USA, Canada, and Australia. Has several spheres of creativity. Lives and works in Kiev
Some of his work looks like tarrot cards. Still it is different than the majority of work I have seen in the west.
Cameron Grey or ‘parablev’ creates wonderful pieces that have a celestial quality about them. The mix of android bodies and geometric patterns gives one the impression of looking in upon the world of angels.
From Robert Mars’ statement:
“My paintings employ layers of color, subtly collaged printed matter from the 1950’s and 1960’s, and stark, black imagery. Remote, indistinct landscapes capture the once poetic, and now nearly lost highway strips of the American past. Formerly the promise of hope and prosperity; these icons are now a sign of desperation and ruin.”
Robert Mars’ work borders on the pseudo-intellectual claptrap that passes as art in art schools. Especially with collages/montages. The use of material without representative figures as if there was something indigenous in the texture of materials that made them beautiful. But Mars avoids that trap.
There is in Mars work a sense of bleakness. Peeled paint. Abandoned gas stations. Restaurants abandoned. A landscape where the language has somehow been lost. Some of the collages almost look like road maps. Like aerial shots of the landscape. With the roads gone. It is an ‘existential’ world. (Forgive me for using the word existential. I should have used ‘camusish’. Perhaps.)
Perhaps the most horrific crime. Committed is the murder of a child. M. Peter Lorre is creepy. The music “In the Hall of the Mountain King” by Edvard Grieg is almost annoying. The images, shadows, and reflections. This is Europe before Hitler. And there is the shadow of the German experience to come that hangs over the picture. It all seems too contemporary with our almost goolish curiosity about serial killers.
And there is in Lorre’s defense of his actions the debate about the nature of man. About good and evil. And uncertainty.
This photographer has an uncanny eye for place. He finds things that are intriguing. The examples here are nudes against large places. Against a landscape. And they are both beautiful and forlorn. Other photos remind us how lonely many places are. It is for many a grey world. Pavel Tereshkovets.
It takes a worried man. George Tooker occupies some place between realism and surrealism. I don’t mean another ism. But a touch between people’s inner and the public world. As if his figures were leaking. It reminds me of Christian images in churches in which Christ or martyrs pain is so evident. In Tooker there is anxiety. Worry. Like someone’s grandmother. Perhaps this anxiety is due to his homosexuality. Or perhaps he sees it in everyone. Everyday. On the street. On the subway.
Tooker is depressing. There is a weight in his work that is almost unbearable. People look as if they have just realized that there is no God. That they are completely alone. Except for danger. How could someone see this everyday and carry on? And yet.
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