You are on an ocean reef. look down at your body. You have become a coral. An important part of this underwater ecosystem. look around at your new home. This is a healthy reef populated with a variety of different plants and animals and several different species of coral, including you. To survive coral need to build and maintain their skeleton. The first step is to collect the basic building blocks: calcium and carbonate ions. Use your polyp arm to grab one of each types of ions around you. These ions are combined to form calcium carbonate, the main component of your coral skeleton. You will need to continue collecting ions to maintain your skeleton and stay healthy.
Harold Ancart’s horizon line is limitless. It extends through numerous paintings, photographs, sculptures, and drawings in an inexhaustible exploration of painterly space and color. Though Harold Ancart’s new paintings are fgurative, they may also be among his most abstract. In his work, subject matter serves as an alibi for the paint to be pushed into the canvas, says the artist.
Firstly I realized that I am not immobile at the center of the universe. Then that I am not distinguished and different from any other sentient and non-sentient being. That I am far from being entirely transparent to myself. Now, digital light tells me that I’m not a separate agent, but an informatic organism sharing with others a global environment fundamentally made up of information: the luminous Infosphere.
Praz-Delavallade is pleased to present Heather Cook’s first solo exhibition with the gallery entitled, 1D 5L 2D 6L 3D 7L 4D 8L 5D 1L 6D 2L 7D 3L 8D 4L. The show consists of two interrelated series of woven works, each following Cook’s continued investigation of the process of the construction of an image. In the first two rooms there is a series of works known as Shadow Weaves, and in the last room, Weaving Drafts, works that depict the graphic representations of the weaving programs for the Shadow Weaves themselves.
Since the mid-20th century, there has been an ongoing search for signs of extraterrestrial life. This encompasses a search for current and historic extraterrestrial life, and a narrower search for extraterrestrial intelligent life. When looking for the first time at the new works of Rashid Uri our mindset is directly triggered into futuristic minimal filmset props or a glimpse of components of a bigger installation. The minimalistic 'loop' sculptures contain construction material and soundboard foam. The first thing that came up with me the first time confronted with the sculptures was a direct link to a setting in ' 2001: A Space Oddyssey' by Stanly Kubrick. In the movie there are different rotating hallway shots where for example the tube hallway structure is a steady in the filmshot as a first layer and at the back the room rotates continuously.
The skin shapes our bodies, creates our image and gives us an identity. The skin is what constitutes ourselves as individuals. When we think of a body, we explicitly imagine its epidermal surface. As the monk William of Baskerville exclaims in the novel The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco: Mankind would shudder at the sight of a body if they could see what is beneath the skin. Skin has the power to shape our physique and identity, yet it furthermore encapsulates physical sensations that are often beyond our control: pain, irritation, shudders, heat sensitivity and erotic pleasure. The epidermal surface withholds the most archaic and animal-like sensations to humankind. Hapticality has the ability to amalgamate human and non-human agents.
The two adjectives used in the title of the exhibition to describe “the plane” – “tangible and infinite” – seem to express a certain contrast, a slight contradiction. If tangible is something that can be touched, physically perceived but also conceptually understood, infinite is rather elusive, always transcends rigid definitions, and cannot be reached nor grasped in its extent. These two dimensions coexist in Sara Chang Yan’s drawings, in which the plane is not just the background on which lines, shapes, colours and signs settle, but it acts as a magnetic field that responds and actively participates in the composition.
Leave the gallery and you will arrive at a rhetorical junction, or is Rua Nelson de Barros intersecting Rua Madre Deus? Head down the street, walk past the museum, turn right, cross the high speed lanes and take the 728 bus towards Avenida dos Descobrimentos. You’ll be driven along the river Tejo, going upstream, gazing at a body of water I once thought to be the Atlantic Ocean. Alas, no New York, no Los Angeles, no Rio de Janeiro, only more of the same continent. You will enter it slightly sideways, grabbing my legs and spreading them apart.
And as things fell apart, nobody paid much attention, departs from MONITOR team’s research on the history of our current Lisbon space and its relationship with local commerce, as well as a comprehensive observation of our broad experience as part of an art system and the gallery’s appreciation and goals to observe, research, collaborate and participate with the local art ecosystem.
In “Facing Enemies, Melting Opposites” the experience of fiction, understood as a representation operated by imagination and fantasy, seems to have much in common with the philosophical current to which it gives its name, namely that of fictionalism. In it, this concept assumes the practical-utilitarian value of wanting to believe that before certain abstract ideas or principles there is a correspondence with reality. This is why it is argued that fiction is not something totally different from reality but rather an echo, one of the forms through which the real shows itself. The term “fiction”, from lat. fictio-onis, in common language is used as a synonym of falsehood, lie, deceit, subterfuge, but in positive terms of a more creative mold it also refers to the activity of building, forming, structuring, processing and, moreover, thinking, imagining, supposing, inventing, inventing.
With its title describing a physical action, levar a cabeça aos pés brings together a series of new sculptures, which like most of the works by Vera Mota, revolve around the politics of the body. Although, as a subject of (non)representation, the body has occupied a central position within the practice of the artist, the strategies of its scrutiny and politicisation have undergone a gradual transformation throughout the past years. Stepping aside from performance as a medium and the performative act of production, best characterised by Mota´s studio-based compositions, her recent exhibition at the gallery, marks a major shift in the practice of the artist, materialising a new form of sculptural animism and a new agency, while shifting the instrumentalization of the performative into a series of coincidental and strictly conceptual acts.
Spread across two floors of the gallery, No one knows me like Dawn from the Jobcentre features mainly paintings. An honest, sometimes humorous account of time spent on Job Seekers Allowance underpins this body of new work. It invites the viewer to look at the fleeting yet significant relationships we encounter as we strive for success in the face of adversity. Richie’s work draws on many personal references, from his working-class roots, to metropolitan living, as well as his own experience of the darker side of urban life.
There is no presence without absence. We could even argue that the latter sharpens every visual manifestation, because it exists only in relation to a presence that makes it evident. Much of the intrinsic power of the very concept of universality owes its existence to something that is actually absent. From this perspective, loss becomes the space where real and ideal meet, blending into each other. The place where the form becomes eternal and only Beauty can reveal its truth.
We are the last analog representatives on our planet. Retrograde Mercury took away the remains of life in motion, so we arranged an event in the middle of nowhere. We met the other within an insular territory of the endless return. The black gut, leading the posthuman to the abandoned isolated dance-floor, is a wormhole, an error of time and space, the last reminiscence of a mother’s amniotic sac that had nurtured us long before the arrow of time appeared.
In I Will Carry The Weight, the title being the artists answer to Gang Starr’s song Who’s Gonna Take the Weight?, Josh Smith presents a series of new, large and small scale, oil canvases depicting variations of the personification of death: the grim reaper. In each canvas the grim reaper is portrayed with the customary black robe and scythe, positioned in surreal and hallucinatory dark landscapes marked by multi-coloured and vibrant brushstrokes.
FICTIONS aims to investigate the issue concerning the emphasis on what happens to a traditional form of image-making when it enters a digital framework, with a strong interest in the mediation that an artwork under- goes when it is consciously documented, investigated and distributed using digital technology. Both Richard Dupont and Michael Staniak are deeply involved in the question of truth, between the erasure of truth in itself and the revelation of a new aesthetic code, which is still in the process of being defined according to the virtual constellation of infinite possibilities.