Sin-Eater is a UK-based artist who draws murky scenes of ancient beasts and the dark arts. Like fable illustrations or tarot cards, his works are replete with eerie-yet-powerful symbols, such as the moon in various phases, leaking hourglasses, human skulls, and obscure runes hidden amidst fog and fur. His intricate linework and grimly religious imagery recall the works of Albrecht Dürer, one of Sin-Eater’s influencers; in a similar style to Dürer’s 1513 engraving “Knight, Death, and the Devil,” for example, Sin-Eater depicts his own esoteric, dream-like sequences wherein the underworld seeps through the surface of the earth, manifesting in visions of twisted forests and unearthly beings.
Intricate patterns, lines and geometric motifs drawn with a Bic, a classic French ballpoint pen. Jonathan Bréchignac, head designer of the JoeAndNathan studio based in Paris fills rather large white pages with complex drawings. The first few ones of his ‘Carpets’ series were meant to represent by their sizes, shapes and ornaments; a Muslim prayer rug.
Jonathan Bréchignac takes about six to eight months to complete a design. He painstakingly depicts directly on paper. He traces directly with no draft before hand. What he designs is directly inspired by Muslim art and architecture. He smoothly blends traditional non-figurative Arabic patterns to modern motifs and elements from French Roman, traditional Japanese, Native American and Mexican culture.
Michigan-based artist Pat Perry creates surreal drawings and paintings that play on the relationship between identity and memory. Often, they feature a single person who has imagery swirling around in their head or the rest of their body. Perry is an avid sketchbook keeper, and he draws these complex, alluring compositions on yellowed paper. It’s clear that he is a skilled draftsman and is able to balance of small details with blank space.
Landscapes are a prominent part of Perry’s work, and you can’t help but think that these subjects are recalling that specific place. But why? His work begs us to take the narrative further and imagine the stories behind these people. (Via Design Crush)
Maltese artist John Paul Azzopardi puts together delicate sculptures and complex structures made from bone. His figures and objects are a combination of being frightening and entrancing. They are gothic and modern. Architecture and organic. Morbid and energetic. The Maltese artist welds bits of bone together, forming ornate ram’s skulls, haunting bats with outstretched wings, axe-welding menacing mythological creatures, and hybrid beasts with intimidating profiles. Azzopardi is very poetic about his approach to his work – describing the metaphysical aspect to his sculptures:
[It] is a collection of fossilized structures that explores the gentle temperance located within the constitution of sound, i.e. it’s very silent center. The architectural relationship that oscillates back and forth from the simple and the complex to the living and the dead connects space and form, creating existential structures of interwoven silence. The death embedded in it’s form, it’s life. This might confront the spectator with a spectre, the simulacrum of itself that stalls, halts being something in it’s tracks. (Source)
Artist Alice Smeets re-imagines 20th century tarot cards through contemporary photography. Having always been interested in spiritual themes and fascinated by tarot cards, Smeet recreates the many different faces of tarot cards using the streets of Haiti as her subject. Her goal was not just to interpret the deck of tarot cards through her lens, but to also have them hold a deep, personal element. Cards like “Justice” and “The Hanged Man” become more intimate by collaborating with each of her subjects represented in this series.
Each Haitian shown in her Ghetto Tarot cards are actually artists themselves. Smeet, aiming to keep authenticity in her work, collaborated with an artist corporation in Haiti called Atiz Rezistans, or “resistant artists”. The photographer worked with these fellow artists to construct her tableaus to capture the captivating imagery in each card. In fact, Smeet includes the work of each “resistant artist” as props in the series. Working in partnership with these artists, she was able to form a relationship and learn what the word “ghetto” means to them. Smeet states that by titling the series Ghetto Tarot, she is giving the word new meaning, a more positive connotation. By exploring this theme of reappropriation, she discovers new ways of changing ideas and implications about certain imagery and words. Smeet explains,
At the end of the world, if all of our waste, memories, and collective knowledge were to be resurrected into living masses, it would look something like this. In an exhibition of metaphorical power and desolate beauty, artist Philip Ob Rey (in collaboration with Louie Otesanek, who inspired the movement, and photographer Mailie Viney) brings us V, an installation/photography project currently on display at the Cell63 in Berlin. Featured in V are black-and-white photographs of faceless, monolithic giants plodding aimlessly through an apocalyptic wilderness, here represented by the vast and darkly beautiful horizons of Iceland. Made of tangled VHS rolls — along with natural artifacts (feathers, stones, shells, and dry seaweeds) Ob Rey found amidst the fjords and active geothermal areas of Iceland — the bodies of the mysterious, god-like beings rip and tear in the wind. Elsewhere, eerie cocooned beings sit in silent, candle-lit caves encroached by snow, emanating a sense of wisdom and despair.
We’ve written about artist Grady Gordon’s ghoulish Monotype prints before, and they continue to be gorgeous and gruesome. The intricate abstractions resolve into frightening black and white faces looming out of a nightmare. In some of his latest works, eyeless monsters open their mouths in a virtual moan, showing skeletal teeth. Others include eyes, wide and staring. The patterns on their faces are organic, calling to mind beehives and wood grain and stone and fire. Finding a grimacing mouth among serenely swirling lines is jarring. The scariest prints are the subtle ones.
“grady utilizes the most crude mark-making instruments to bring about the characters that inhabit the invisible plane. he works entirely by removing thick black ink from a plexiglass surface. the monotype print is a study of impermanence. unlike other forms of printmaking the monotype offers only one copy. the original image on the plate is then given back to the ether, back into the fabric.”
The prevalence of any technology forever alters the way we previously understood the world before it. Photography changed painting, audio recording changed our relationship to music, and the internet changed print media such as books and magazines. What is most often lost is the human touch, a closer connection from the source to the viewer or listener. Such is the story of courtroom sketch artist Gary Myrick, the focus of a documentary produced by Ramtid Nikzad of the New York Times as part of the Op-Doc series. A compelling figure who narrates the history of the tradition, Myrick Myrick explains the difference and importance of his craft, “Illustration is story-telling. The difference between the camera in the courtroom and an artist might be the difference between just a cold, dry, factual transcript as opposed to a novel.”
The University of New Mexico’s digital collections host an extensive archive of vintage cutaway illustrations of nuclear reactors from around the world. These illustrations first appeared in Nuclear Engineering International as inserts in the magazine from the 1950s to the 1990s, and were often on display in nuclear engineers’ offices. Upon noticing the degradation of the illustrations over time, one engineer named Ron Knief decided to pursue the digitization of all 105 diagrams published by the magazine. The resolution of these images is incredibly sharp, and you can get a closer, more detailed look at the illustrations by visiting UNM’s archive, where you’ll also find many more colorful and thoughtfully designed posters that shed light on and satisfy some curiosity about these controversial energy reservoirs. (via gizmodo)
One of the advantages to the window seat of an airplane is the view below. Flying 35,000 feet above the sky, you see a miniaturized landscape that’s a combination of mixtures of shapes and textures. It’s devoid of the finer details and has the appearance of an abstract painting. Photographer William Rugen captures these type of fractured scenes in his series of images titled Here > There. The monochromatic photographs show roads, fields, and cities in an up-close way that they don’t immediately appear as what they actually are.
We’ve recently seen the dystopian, dizzying effect that aerial photographs have on highways. Rugen’s photographs are disorienting at times, but there is a semblance of structure in the haphazard-looking scenes. Lines of the road fracture and corral the different (yet similar) shapes of the ground and break them up like a cubist painting. They reveal a patchwork of stories, development, and planning, which is inevitably the same wherever you travel, no matter what the physical differences might be.