Collossal Hand of Constantine

This is the bronze hand of of the colossal roman statue of Constantine I, made in the years of 312-315 AD. The sculpture, all together, is said to have been 40 feet high! I am astounded by the painstaking detail and the jaw-dropping realism of the hand alone. And the hand's wear and tear -- a result of the centuries its endured -- doesn't take away from the piece: each gaping void adds character to once cold perfection, giving a truly unique mood and rhythm to the sculpture.

Ancient Indian Buddha Sculpture

A sculpture of Buddha made in India in the 700s. It depicts his fasting and the stages of enlightenment and understanding that followed. I love the veiny pattern carved oh-so intricately on the skin of Buddha in the artwork. Compositionally I find the sculpture intriguing due the multitude of Buddha's swarming around the larger, center Buddha as well as the section of the sculpture underneath the Buddha's (the cows). 

Cultural Sculpture

This sculpture dates back to the thirteenth century, however, the exact time of it's creation is shrouded in ambiguity. The sculpture is Roman in origin and conceptually deals with the culture's mythology.  I love the haunted nuance to the mother dog's expression and such fine details as the ribs straining against the cool stone skin. I also am intrigue by the stylized texture of the mother dogs neck: a necklace? Scruffy fur? It add some interest to the piece visually, and provides some food for thought. 

Cool, inspiring sculpture

This is a sculpture by the contemporary American artist Takeshi Murata titled "Melted 3D"; delicately crafted from a metal that creates the illusion of a perpetual fluid movement (or melting). I like the simpilicity of the design of the sculpture because it emphasizes the cool "melting" special effect. If Murata had been more flashy with the other aspects of the sculpture, I feel as if the sculpture would be too busy -- he balances simplicity and complexity. Additionally, I aplaud the tecnhical know-how it must have taken to create such a piece.

Ceramic work

Yosaky Yammamoto's work manages to be both whimsical and unsettling. Observe his sculpture carefully, what concrete aspect instigates such an inference? It's all in the face. Like a mask, the deceivingly apathetic expression cloaks a bottomless well of a mystery. In otherwords, what lies beneath the surface of his work is up to your own imagination. Like monsters in the dark (that's really just a coat on a hanger or something). That's what I like about his work. The enigmatic-ness (I'm pretty sure that's not an actual word...oh well).

Art with text

Just admire how incredibly detailed this is. It's a page from the artistically renowned illuminated manuscript "The Book of Kells". Imagery and writing merge together into a seemless whole. And I'm pretty sure it would still be that way even if I could read the language written in the book.

Second Artist that inspires me

For the second artist that inspires me, I'll do someone more contemporary: Agostino Arrivebene. I found out about this guy in Juxtapoz magazine. I could stare at his work for hours in pure wonder, and that's not even at the original painting. Technically he employs classical italian techniques with his own subtle mannerisms--he mixes his own colors and makes his own medium. You can tell. Additionally, content wise he does this reall surrealistic figurative work rich with allegory. I've attached a picture of one of his painting's below.

Two Artists that Inspire me (number one)

First on the list  [of artists that inspire me] is...(drum roll)... Renoir! That is, Pierre-Auguste Renoir (yeah that's a bit of a mouthful...or keyboard full)  if just the surname isn't enough for identification (which I know it is). The reason he makes it on this list is his forward-thinking and, if I do say so myself, beautiful use of color. He picked up on hues in the human skin that had traditional-slanted critiques spitting on his face (figuratively) and the more open-minded viewers gasping in awe (this is not necessarily figurative). I mean, sure, the colors may be a little exaggerated, but then why is there such thing as hyperbole in writing? Exaggeration has a way of enhancing somethings reality. And besides, exaggerated or not, it's a scientific fact that their are thousands of different colors in skin tone. Not just one. Even the old masters-- whose use of color is comparably less, well, colorful than Renoirs'-- knew it.Well, maybe some of them were just jumping on the bandwagon of toned-down and even simplified color, but some of them knew.  In Leonardo Da Vinci's notes he makes note (as is expected seeing as it's his notes) that different surfaces pick up different hues -- for instance, shadows on a white surface are predominantly blue. Now doesn't this sound like something Renoir would say?

Ryan De La Hoz

Another post prompted by Juxtapoz, the artist in question being Ryan De La Hoz (I "discovered" him through an article in the magazine). What strikes me about his work is, beneath the surface, the depth of intelligent meaning. Every aspect of the work is a symbol. His art is very grounded in the culture of today, and yet at the same time timeless. For example, with tie-dye, De La Hoz says "while it is now considered kitschy by some, it was once emblematic of a movement that defied corporate culture among many other things. I am interested in the way motifs change meaning over time as they are reappropriated."

Painting portraiture

As I'm focusing on portraiture in my open studio, I found the above artwork a helpful reference on technique. I admire the color the artist uses for values. Also, I find the expression the subject makes intriguing -- it pulls you in. Composition ally this painting can be admired as well. Overall, in small ways and big ways this painting acts as reference.

Abstract Oil

The original color scheme is what initially caught my eye in this oil painting. Things aren't distorted into a striking enough -- but well overused -- balanced rainbow of bold colors. If anything, the rich, brown earthy tones on the right half of the canvas seems to defy such cater-to-the audience aesthetics. Contrasted on the lefts side is a sky-like mish-mash of light blue and white -- it may seem to go with the whole fake-y aesthetic thing I was talking about, but in truth, it's contrast with the other half the canvas only further emphasizes the overall originality. It should also be noted that technicality wise, this painting is one to admire  -- the various shades and hues are picked, mixed, placed and layered with sharp precision.

Fresco

Just recently, I have "discovered" the existence of fresco painting. It's as if this whole time my subconscious has been repeating to me "There's four types of paint mediums: watercolor, oil, and acrylics, and that tempura stuff. There are no other paint mediums." So it's literally mind blowing to suddenly find out there are other paint mediums. Fresco painting, in  a nutshell, is painting on wet plaster. When the plaster drys, a chemical reaction takes place such as with pottery in the kiln, causing the color pigments to become richer and brighter. It's a really ancient technique, found in artwork all over the world. In Europe, it was a predominant paint medium for much of the middle ages (it and tempura) , though it was largely usurped by oil paints. This particular fresco painting is Indian in origin, and I can really appreciate it artistically -- from the sharp, accurate shapes, big bold colors to the meticulous detail. Added to this sense of appreciation is the rapid drying nature of fresco, meaning the artist has to be highly skilled in order to achieve such accuracy, complex coloring and detail.

William Wonter Painting

I guess I'm guilty of, once again, robotically typing in some art related mumbo jumbo into google images, and picking some random picture a few lines down that for whatever reason grabbed my attention, and then framing this frenzied, hasty series of events as something "deeply personal and moving".  Let's be frank. What's so deep about that? Thus, for this post I'm determined to do some background research to add that needed depth (okay, so the only difference now is the search has shifted from google images to wikipedia, but wikipedia is NOT as bad as everyone says). 

So, it turns out this oil painting is by renowned 18th century portrait painter William Clarke Wontner. I guess you could say he was sort of "behind his times" (in a good way), because instead of jumping on the surrealist bandwagon that was cruising around the bend around the time of his career, he immersed himself in Academic Classicism and Romanticism. 

It can definitely be said his drawing have a weighty classic and romantic vibe, bringing to mind the masterpieces of European painters several hundred years before the man's time. The rich, luminous shading -- a known trademark of oil painting -- exemplifies a technical proficiency not to be taken for granted. He doesn't just ape after his former's formula though -- he brings his own twist of mood and aesthetics -- subtly yet successfully. For instance, ponder the uniqueness and aesthetic merit to the marble wash background.

Mural

For the upcoming mural assignment, I plan to draw inspiration from this music video. I think the "earth people" are not only really cool looking, but profound. I'm really visually inspired by them and hope to incorporate the concept into my mural.  Though despite this, I want to add my own originality to the artwork.

Etchings

From a quick search of etchings on Google Images, I found this particular one by Anders Zorn really attracted me. The sense of depth in the portrait, with an emphasis on lighting, is masterful. Also, I like the way the artist's lines manage to be so expressive. The chopped, dissonant hatching-- almost scribble like--  brings a dark mood to the artwork. The picture is beyond realism in the sense of photograph perfectness:  it captures a scene with an emotional lense.

Nils Frahm

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIwwjy4slI8
The above link is to a music video by Nils Frahm, which in my opinion is both visually and orally a good example of abstract. The monochrome rain-like drops come down at first in tiny impressions but eventually in dramatic, bold washes that mark the building progression of the song. It reminds me of painting--specifically watercolors--the way the fluid continually falls and leaves marks yet is always added to and changed, it's constant yet ephemeral, simple yet profound. It's like a painting in motion.

Contrasting Concepts

The above is one of the many interesting artworks by artist Charlie Immer. Immer enjoys creating paintings taking place in a made up world that blends gory violence with cute, rainbow candy coated creatures. I love the contrast of the two concepts, and the unique vibe it gives the artwork. Technically, I am very amazed by Immer's painting skills as well, I feel like I can learn allot from his art just by looking at it.

Watercolor eyes

    

     The above drawing models the step by step procedure of making eyes with watercolors. As a watercolor user myself, I found this model helpful and informative. I'm familiar enough with how to use watercolors, but this drawing was able to highlight the finer techniques of creating depth and value with the paints. I especially commend the artists creative and diverse use of color--avoiding "dead" colors as is traditional with watercolors. Though first hand experience is a good teacher, sometimes learning from external resources can be just as helpful.

Artist Statement

Art is not "something" to me. That is to say, it's not something I can simply categorize from the rest of my being. It's at my core. I have a great knowing that art will always be with me. In second grade, despite my teacher's reprimands and my own moral discomfort I always ended up doodling in the margins of my math homework. They might as well have been telling me not to breathe. Today, I still doodle in the margins of my math homework, and science homework, and pretty much on everything. Art is like anything else about me from my brown eyes to my personality--it will always be there. But like people, art is always changing and developing. Art is a life long journey of discovery: always expanding, improving and reflecting me in my present state. It's always there, yet always changing. In my current Art Foundations class, I have gotten the chance to experience art in a diversity of ways I never had before. I have always loved water colors, and drawing people, but I feel as if those are only two pieces of a puzzle I'm still at this momment putting together piece by piece. I love color. That is not to say necessarily that I love flashy and multiple colors, however, no matter the project, inspiration, or concept I take special care with color schemes, the emotions they convey, and furthermore, their meanings. I do admit to a penchant for the bright, but also the pastel, and perhaps more. In short, I love color schemes teamed with emotion. Also, aside from the translucently layered, even meticulous watercolors, I have grown fond of pastel crayons. Each line is bold, makes a statement, and can always be "canceled out" by another line. I love charchoal, ink, and even paper machè yet colored pencils have attained a certain flatness for me. What else? I'm not sure, I'm still in my experimental phase as an artist, if it's even a phase. Though I may think certain characteristics are staples of my artistry, how can I know without experiencing the alternative? I prefer 2-D art, painting, sketching, portraits over landscapes, "pretty" color schemes over the less so...yet all this is subject to change.

Blizzard

   The below image I found an intriguing portrayal of a blizzard. The art itself is very 19th century-ish-- this for me increases the art's intrigue-- specific techniques create a specific atmosphere that's related to a specific era-- it's retro, if you will. Furthermore, I'm in awe with the composition. The artist achieves a flawless balance of negative and positive space weaving together into one blizzardy storm: the horse trudging forward, cranberry red sled in tow while daringly approaching the "dead zone" of the painting-- assumed to cross hypothetical paths with a man and his dog moving in the opposite direction on the other side of the composition-- of which are also approaching the dead zone, yet not quite there. The composition is masterful, the whole "dangerously close to the dead zone" thing implies great. struggling movement. Such as we Vermonters know all to well, is inevitable and heavy correlated to "walking" in deep snow. I like the crossing paths aspect of the art too, this also emphasizes movement. All of this is enveloped by a mystic winter wonderland: an average, rural street transformed into a fantasy land that would put Narnia to shame.