students' contemporary art

[students-contemporary-art]

An experiment I made with the results of one of my Particle-in-Cell simulations of ultra-intense laser pulse interaction with ionized target. I later applied similar techniques to obtain sound from a numerical solution of quantum wavepacket in a potential well.

Viktor Kocur / Czech Republic / Prague / Computational Physics

[students-contemporary-art]

Submelanin Messages

Word art pieces from the collection 'Submelanin Messages' which explores allegorical significance of disenfranchised black bodies in migration. After personally being affected by the nuances that the system poses to people of African origin traveling to Europe, America, etc, for example- being detained for about 2 hours at Oslo airport for no particular reasons except for 'administrative' reasons and not being able to travel out of France, even to Schengen states or work for six months because that's how long it takes to process the recipisse even though I live with my 2 year old daughter and her mum who is French. Being an artist who believes in freedom of mobility and expression, I'm denied my rights in a limiting frame of 'subtle exile'. As such I work around these lines, also since I've come into contact with refugees who arrived in Europe via the Saharan desert and Mediterranean as well as Africans evicted from their homes in Paris with no prior notices. Aside written texts, the work evolves into performance, audio, film and graphic collage contexts.

Kwame Aidoo / France / Paris / Oriental languages

homeless minds

I prefer to live in this imaginary city where homelessness is not a sin because out here a pale boy plasters himself on the sidewalk and begs with his limbs stretching out the hunger from his bowels and you smell hell breathe from his intestines a dry poster almost stripped off by hangover hands one floor above his stare a century old pair of knuckles lean into the streets  and flings grains to a curious set of pigeons  crumbles fall into his eye, this young man a yarn soaked in pus and suicidal throes of pumped voices evoking lumps of toxins you taste hopeless vomit from his empty options his smile- the gaping tips of mountaintops, his belly- the voluminous valleys  but nature around him is not for the innocent and righteous there in the lonesome alleys  a psychological gymnasium with urban tower blocks breaking his shoulder blades nose tickling the floor. groped with smoke with a candid feel as if joseph stiglitz echoed his idea about saving the planet here he reads me the arcane trade laws negotiating pain and exclaims that a newspaper spread covers his head but in the newspapers his painful story is not shared. lugging bags of dead memory, this stain of dying community- and his sister- almost photocopies herself from him and creeps out from his slippery shadow  with elephantine legs and a special kind of madness her heart whispers to me: "when we have no more power over the issue than we have issues over power, we lose the power" she says to me; "the world is silent" but it feels noisy all around me and the irony lies in how all our souls are invaded by this quiet violence looking for a loud license to clog the pockets of our conscience onlookers are divided over visual pain killers..as these kids endure persistent officer diagnosis and surgeons tazing with cold stethoscopes when all they need are good food, a comfy space, better shoes and a taste of the normal life  because the same poverty the system creates scares them  ..is it their frizzled hair or rotten teeth..or their rumble under rum that turns out guts? maybe the fingers numb, demeanor strung sunk in the corridor bound with 6ft tape. basement raped caged in cries as tombstones replace neck stones descendants of chains and pendants i greet you he says his name is smith and she is wesson they grow into guns because that's the only shot they've had their parents od'ed(overdosed) because government proceeds only afforded them rooms made of drugs what do you see when you look into a homeless person's face? a nomad? the nickel in your pocket? a psych ward? a mole or an abandoned human? nonetheless, survivors of the streets maybe you've seen their voices haunt each leftover space?

beyond here or haiti

they call this poem black immigrant church chains they call this poem man-made contamination via condom-less sex they call this poem white expat collection bag they call this poem cut your hair they call this poem radio for rape culture they call this poem wear a bra they call this poem republican democrat independent left rights

what they don't call this poem is caribbean beauty eye, ghostly starfish, hooked in anguish-

impaired island, black belly button- disk of evolution pellucid puncture plastered plantation paths pelted african poetry from past programming the present.. I prefer to picture the posture of your sphincter of pride sphere of pilgrim possessions

each pyramid engineered in eye circles. each 'u' that was a bowl designed for honor now mislabeled for humble hunger begging. your citizens divided over dividends thousands selling their wounds in verbal stories, grafting the city scape into terabytes of core music

with exposed toes for greedy corporate steppers to pitch heights and know forever

you can dance

but you wont bloody dance off tune

you're immune

you see the rat race ruins

you're immune

they call this poem morning erection to internet loops

they call this poem undertakers of conscience

they call this poem orgasm of non-helping onlookers they call this poem visual pain syringes they call this poem police mental checks they call this poem doctors with medical stress they call this poem seamstresses sewing sinew

what they don't call this poem is a naked heart whispering: "when a lamp is knocked down, the fire spreads and burning does not know where the barriers are set." plenary gift 1440 djembe drum thumps 1804 dessalines for healing hundred quakes 2010 as vultures dock under your epidermis contaminate your inner intelligence, haiti deity dancing in the dark..dieing to resuscitate your divine, dangling with your devout clasp trapped as red cross crucifies you and looks on your locks like spectators as you resurrect and nullify with truth losing parts of your living but not losing your loving lonely haiti divided sudan loving somalia distant usa pointing europe labouring ghana silent noisy world torturing turbines death spin hurricanes through your afro

worst winds gash green graphs tabulating death tolls deaf at dinner between destructive nature and demonic dentures damaged by colonial canines awash in asphyxiating ashes pitched on pedestals, shoeless port au-prince plagued pasa pasa pillaged on pencil toes oh priceless mermaid, hurt sponged soul hugged sun not in moon's mild reach, lambaste landfall of aborted futures bound for breathless beach, flailing flattened homes pummeling bones into interjections

haunted hope-hindered cholera colored chromosomes

you know your own

you can sing

and you wont sing out of tune

you're immune

you see the rat race 'tings'

you see the rat race ruins

you're immune

they call this poem old neo-colonized body they call this poem police can shoot through skin they call this poem loud silence

they call this poem aids and aid they call this poem stranger estranged

they call this poem shitty bar-codes and torn food stamps

what they don't call this poem is hey hey melt into my melanin prose of cornered creoles hey hey get the fuck off my non-religion. hey hey leave those voodoo dolls pinned into moody walls wounded, we keep breastfeeding millions with millions still stealing ores single mother, your kind is everywhere nowhere seen sun hearts free feel fun soothed nowhere everywhere healing with you

healing with you

healing with you

when you see this poem don't just call it

don't just plug some cotton into its bloody socket

be all for it

they call this poem..

[students-contemporary-art]

A post-modern clash of art and technology – study technology to create art – why use oil when you have RGB? Visuals strictly dependent on the musical performance ditch the role of a VJ completely. By replacing one human with a computer program, two human performers gain the freedom to toy and improvize. Joining the (un)joinable, the musical influences range from techno to black metal while the visuals emerge from the deepest corners of students‘ minds where games, mathematics, algorithms and love form an ever-changing graph; a net if you wish, a net to bounce back both the scary and the silly. Drawing the mentality from rave and punk scenes the performance focuses on raw energy – we take pride in being looked down upon by disgusted faces.

David Čajčík & Vadim Petrov / Czech Republic / Prague / Film Production & Computer Graphics

[students-contemporary-art]

I travelled to Indonesia to film a series of Slow-TV inspired videos. Slow-TV is a new television genre that aims to portray an ordinary event in real time. It focuses on retelling a story or experience as naturally as possible without editing away what some people might find ‘mundane’. This new genre has been seen as a counter act towards faced paced entertainment and can arguable demonstrate a more reflective use of the camera & television. The content creates more room for the viewer to create their own stories and aims to enhance a more meditative state of mind. In 'The Hermit Crabs’ you follow a group of hermit crabs at Dodola Island in North Halmahera, all filmed in real time. There is no editing, no music and no storyline. Just a real life event, presented in the most natural way.

Siri Thomassen / UK / London /  Live Events & Television

[students-contemporary-art]

Studying at an expensive uptight private secondary school I always had the need to rebel. The week before my International Baccalaureate art exhibition I created this piece which was inspired by a facebook photo of my friend. The school didn't have the time to ban me from putting this painting up and I laughed as everyone was shocked by the painting. 

Gitika Bhalla / Czech Republic / Prague / Experimental nuclear and particle physics 

[students-contemporary-art]

Me. Me. Me. Mostly contemplating about life, sometimes sleeping off a hangover, feeling lost, weak and brainwashed. 

Viktoria D'Agostino / Czech Republic / Prague / Biology and Biochemistry

[students-contemporary-art]

Illustration of a proof in mathematical analysis concerning the construction of a function which equals 1 on a given set and falls to zero within the nearest vicinity.

Katerina Jirakova / Czech Republic / Prague / Plasma Physics

[students-contemporary-art]

Visualisations of how Newton's method finds a root to f(x) = x^3 - 1.

They present a complex plane: -2 < x < 2, -2i < y < 2i. The coloured image shows which root the method converges to using (x,y) as a starting point and the grayscale image shows how many iterations are made before the method converges (light = few iterations, dark = many iterations).

Amanda Nilsson / Gothenburg / Sweden / Technical Physics

[students-contemporary-art]

A couple of months ago, I spontaneously decided to make a documentary about London's live music scene because I'd been concerned about its future. This zero budget film that was all done pretty much by myself with occasional assistance from other people is finally ready to show off so say hello to my first ever video and make sure you help support grassroots music venues in London, otherwise we're gonna lose them!!

Magdalena Brozikova / London / UK / Live Events and Television

[students-contemporary-art]

A fairy tale describing the proof of the equivalent definition of zero measure set. In Czech.

Katerina Jirakova / Czech Republic / Prague / Plasma Physics

[students-contemporary-art]

A small #fishcomix I started to draw during very long lectures of theoretical physics. I accidentaly had access to a small pen tablet, so I decided to re-draw my ideas in my computer and put them online. Soon enough, plenty of friends, also frustrated and tired of all the abstraction in math and physics, started helping me and providing their own ideas.

David Roesel /  Czech Republic / Optics and Nanostructures