(via Two Halves: Unica Zürn - Siglio Press)
d e v o n
Not today Justin

No title available

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Love Begins
will byers stan first human second

Janaina Medeiros
Stranger Things
dirt enthusiast

Kaledo Art

No title available
NASA
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird

Kiana Khansmith

Product Placement
$LAYYYTER
Sade Olutola
occasionally subtle
almost home
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
seen from Netherlands
seen from Malaysia
@drawing
(via Two Halves: Unica Zürn - Siglio Press)
PRAXIS: Drawing might always be anticipation, and to see a drawing, may trigger a foreseeing, which turns the empirically false observation into a speculatively true one.
"Technology has traditionally been used to automate and replace human labour," he told Dezeen. "The issue with this approach is that it fails to take advantage of human intuition during fabrication."
(via Tokyo students develop architectural 3D-printing pen)
Q&A: Sougwen Chung Maps the Landscape of the Mind
When the robots inevitably take over planet earth, visual artist Sougwen Chung will already have a head start. In her project Drawing Operations Unit: Generation One, Chung collaborated with a robotic arm which mimicked her style as she drew and then learned from it and adapted to it. The finished work was part human, part machine, but the differences between the two were often disconcertingly hard to discern. For her latest project, Topographies, Chung studies the overlap between natural physical terrain and the landscape of the mind – a kind of collaboration between the concrete and the abstract. Prints from the series will be available via The Ghostly Store and, in conjunction with series, Chung is unveiling a new site to showcase her print work. To commemorate the event, we spoke with Chung about the ways environment figures into her work, and her dedication to finding the places where the emotional and the tangible intersect.
How much time do you usually set aside to work?
I love to work, I don’t really set aside time. I used to, but the lines have blurred over the years. The more I grow creatively, the more I find myself in a perpetual negotiation with the work I’ve done, and will do, through the work I’m making – as if it’s a separate entity with its own centre of gravity, flaws, curiosities, and potential. It’s like an ongoing conversation I’m having. So time to work becomes more difficult to quantify. Even if my hands aren’t producing, I’m researching, or writing, or thinking about a project or direction which becomes part of it. Such is the nature of self-initiated work, I think. In general, my process has become far more compulsive — maybe I’m entertaining the notion that a sort of tempestuous immediacy is a viable life choice. It’s my own little rebellion against the younger version of me which was more into GTD, time blocking and to-do lists. Self-regulation taken to extremes can be kind of uptight. I admire the process, but it’s so austere. It leaves less room for spontaneity, immediacy, and mischief. A bit of order here, a bit of chaos there…
What is the ideal environment for you to create? As much variety as possible. It’s a sort of weird creative challenge – or perhaps slight masochistic predilection – to be able to work in a variety of environments. A few months ago I took a train across the country for a few days… that was a mobile-studio experience. Four days on a train. Quiet and roaming and weird and picturesque. And dramatic, because trains. Our generation has collectively moved beyond the conventional notion of the artist or musician in her fixed studio as a norm. There are beneficial aspects of that, for sure, but I find the freedom and challenge of variety more exploratory, a bit more contemporary.
Ultimately, however, all I really need a stick of graphite and paper. My work may be formally maximalist but I’m a minimalist with materials, at heart.
This new series is called Topographies, which implies a focus on land and earth. What drew you to this subject matter? Topography is a study of terrain – at its core, a practice of translation. It’s the visual representation of an environment, as opposed to a singular object. This series marks a shift in my Études series. There was an objectness to my previous compositions, a singularness. An object implies proximal relation, the response to it is binary. Topography is different, the details envelop you. Topography is about depicting systems, a type of terrain. As for what drew me to the subject matter – I don’t know if I could say, directly, as none of the pieces are or seek to be representational of an existing physical land mass. Each piece is a result of a improvisational process of drawing and software. The compositions that end up being made may subconsciously reflect aspects of my thinking or my life at the time. In general, I’ve been engaging with and researching various social systems, negotiating a flux of geographic terrains. Each study of the Topographies series is a space for myself and the viewer to inhabit, the series is an atlas of imagined environments.
Can you tell me a bit about the process behind Topographies? As source material, I combined drawings from the road with digital sculpture to create a representation of place, constructed by hand-rendered marks. The marks are an expression of the immediate moment, which are then used as a tapestry for the final forms. If flow states as mark-making is a mapping of inner states and cognitive terrain, Topographies hybridizes the representation of physical and emotional terrain as a visual metaphor. I try to ensure that my creative process accommodates immediacy and spontaneity so that potential for discovery is never occluded. In my explorations in drawing, I’ve found that intuitive creation of a form can often resemble natural landscapes. “High Tide” began as a study in abstraction and nascent tension in form that resembled a wave before its breaking point. It was non-representational in process, but resulted in a familiar, topographic form. I wanted to extend that notion into this new series of études, which led me to Topographies.
What are you working on now? Recently, I’ve been developing a drawing collaboration with a robotic arm. It’s a spontaneous process experiment in drawing, code and movement. I call the project Drawing Operations and the robot arm even got a nickname in the process (D.O.U.G._1; short for Drawing Operations Unit: Generation 1) I drew with the robotic arm as a performance at a group show alongside friends at NEW INC, a museum-led incubator I’m a part of, in New York a few months ago. I couldn’t get the image of a robotic arm co-creating with a human hand out of my mind, and when it materialized it was so different from what I’d anticipated but also very familiar.
Drawing Operations was largely inspired by the instructive nature of Sol Lewitt’s Wall Drawings, my own process of mark-making, and perhaps a visual counter-argument to a dystopian fantasy about technology we, on some level, all entertain. It explores the expressive immediacy of drawing as an artistic collaboration between a human and machine. And I get to call a drawing robot D.O.U.G. so, there’s that.
You’re launching a new site in conjunction with these prints – what led to your decision to do that? It was time to streamline. I still post teasers and random fragments to my instagram and twitter, but now I’ve collected some ongoing projects like #drawingwithdoug, praesentia drawings and updates from my research at The Media Lab onto my process blog in a more readable format. I still haven’t found a place to put my #falconfriday posts but when that day comes I’ll probably throw a party.
(via Front Line-Drawings From Hong Kong’s Umbrella Revolution — Matter — Medium)
The Phoenix, The Flying Fox, The Swan
Drawing, 2011
dreaming about hallucinations from years and years ago
“You have an idea… an intuition, a feeling, a subconscious thing. It comes in many versions, but when it does it is sometimes better to go back and ask where it came from than to immediately decide where it is about to go. If you know where it came from, you might know why you had it, and once you know why, it’s easier to know how. The brush or the pencil: they’re just tools. The playing, the fooling around; you need to step out of the macho-driven goal-orientated brutality of today’s success criteria. You need to be confident of the step you are taking, not of where it will take you because the moment you put the pencil to paper is the moment when you change the world.”
Olafur Eliasson: ‘I am not special’ | Art and design | The Guardian
Moon Drawings
Today is the last day to contribute to this project where you can send a small drawing to the moon:
Project by Golan Levin & David Newbury will bring your contributed drawings to the moon (and may even be drawn onto the surface by a rover robot):
Welcome to Moon Drawings: a project to extend artistic expression to the Moon. We invite you to contribute a drawing—which will be etched on a sapphire disc, sent to the Moon, and potentially traced by a robot rover into the Moon’s soil. The disc, contained in a sculpture called the Moon Arts Ark, will be shuttled to the Moon in 2016. It will remain there for millenia: a poetic gesture reaching out, far beyond any objective existence on Earth.
There are currently roughly 9950 drawing spaces left - if you would like to contribute a drawing you can at the project website here
Dimensional drawings with light by robots
Xieyi (寫意)
Graphite on paper, 13x19in, 2014
New York
Frames of attention (from center) 1. Entertainment / 2. Interest / 3. Awareness / 4. Intrigue / 5. Boredom / 6. Dynamic Contemplation
source: §
Function of boredom. Good + bad [Arthur] Schopenhauer the first imp[ortant] writer to talk about boredom (in his Essays)—ranks it with “pain” as one of the twin evils of life (pain for have-nots, boredom for haves—it’s a question of affluence). People say “it’s boring”—as if that were a final standard of appeal, and no work of art had the right to bore us. But most of the interesting art of our time is boring. Jasper Johns is boring. Beckett is boring, Robbe-Grillet is boring. Etc. Etc. Maybe art has to be boring, now. (Which obviously doesn’t mean that boring art is necessarily good—obviously.) We should not expect art to entertain or divert any more. At least, not high art. Boredom is a function of attention. We are learning new modes of attention—say, favoring the ear more than the eye—but so long as we work within the old attention-frame we find X boring … e.g. listening for sense rather than sound (being too message-oriented). Possibly after repetition of the same single phrase or level of language or image for a long while—in a given written text or piece of music or film, if we become bored, we should ask if we are operating in the right frame of attention.
- Susan Sontag
Pilcrow in blue, #prismacolor on #strathmore bristol, 11x14 in #drawing
sougwen.com
It is only by drawing often, drawing everything, drawing incessantly, that one fine day you discover to your surprise that you have rendered something in its true character. Camille Pissarro
Drawing is not the form; it is the way of seeing the form.
Degas
Drawing is like making an expressive gesture with the advantage of permanence.
Henri Matisse
I prefer drawing to talking. Drawing is faster, and leaves less room for lies.
Le Corbusier