Photograph by Douglas Kirkland

Photograph by Douglas Kirkland

Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” made music history as MTV’s first world premiere video when the thirteen-minute epic was released on December 2, 1983. Directed by John Landis, who co-wrote the screenplay with Michael Jackson, “Thriller” was budgeted at half a million dollars in production. It has sold 9 million units to date. In 2009, this landmark video was inducted into the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress, the first music video ever to receive this honor.

With exclusive access to the set of “Thriller”, photographer Douglas Kirkland documented Jackson in all his glory. Michael Jackson: The Making of “Thriller”: 4 Days/1983 (Glitterati Incorporated) is an exquisite tribute to the King of Pop. With a hologram cover of Jackson’s remarkable transformation from pop star into dark zombie, the book features 200 never-before-seen photographs. We witness the grandeur and the glory of this production that has made Jackson one of the most beloved artists of our age.

Douglas Kirkland shares his memories of the historic video shoot, providing an incredible firsthand account of the man and the music that changed the world. In an interview with Nancy Griffin, published in the book, Kirkland recalls, “I met Michael Jackson for the first time on the night they were shooting at the Palace Theater, when I was taken to meet him in his trailer. Frankly I was somewhat intimidated at first. I’ve been around a lot of people, but I had no idea what kind of individual he would be. He already had so much myth surrounding him. I wondered if he was going to be strange or odd—who was this person I was going to be with, and how could I best do my job?

“With the power Michael Jackson had demonstrated on stage, and the aura that had been created around him, I expected him to behave like an assured giant in dealing with a LIFE magazine photographer and journalist.

“What I found was somebody who wasn’t remotely threatening or intimidating. In fact, he was disarming, and very responsive. He made me feel at home. He had a small voice and smiled easily, not a big smile but a small smile. A very light handshake as I recall, not a firm, ‘I’m in charge’ kind of handshake at all. Everything about him made me think that he was a gentle person.

Read the Full Story at THE CLICK.

Castle Ruins on a Rocky Mountaintop, 1866, Dominik Schuhfried

Castle Ruins on a Rocky Mountaintop, 1866, Dominik Schuhfried

When you arise in the morning
think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love …
~ Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Fernando Botero

Fernando Botero

They call him Maestro. The Master. With a paintbrush as mighty as the sword. He wields it with the precision of a man who has dedicated his life to art. And from this has come his latest masterpiece, Bullfight: Paintings and Works on Paper (Glitterati Incorporated), which showcases more than 140 oil paintings and 35 drawings of the sport that made Botero realize his calling in life.

As Curtis Bell Pepper writes in the introduction to Bullfight, “Finally it was going to happen. A young Fernando Botero would face a young live bull for the first time. For months, as a torero de salon (student bullfighter) he had practiced making passes at bull’s horns coming at him on bicycle wheels/ Now it was real. Anything was possible. Ever since he was nine, when his uncle Joaquin began taking him to the corrida de toros (bullfights), he had dreamed of being a matador.

“But when he stepped into the ring with six other boys holding capes, the bull charged him alone. He stood his ground—a slim dark-haired youth, the ground trembling, the snorting rage of the bull’s lungs, the wide horns no longer on a bicycle. With a two-handed Veronica pass, with the bull looping upward, he did his work. Then the animal charged another nearby novice.”

Fernando Botero laughs at the memory, and tells Curtis Bell Pepper, “I realized in the ring that I was better at watercolor.

“I did some fancy moves of course but there was another dimension to the thing. I didn’t have the courage and the drive to do it. But the aficíon, the passion for bulls, has stayed with me all my life, and I have done many paintings and drawings on the subject. “

Those works are collected for the first time in Bullfight, a stunning companion volume to Glitterati’s companion volume, Circus, released in 2013. Both books, when taken together, reveal Botero’s love for the great performers of our day, the performers at the center of the arena who command our attention with feats of courage. Botero’s reverence for their acts can be seen in the pleasure his paintings bring to us.

To celebrate the publication of Bullfight: Paintings and Works on Paper, the Museum of Modern Art will host a book signing on Wednesday, October 29 at 7:00pm. To RSVP, please email

Botero uses the canvas as a space of performance. He speaks with The Chic about a life in art, a life that has always been captivated by the dance of death that is known as the bullfight.

Read the Full Story at THE CHIC.

Psalm 10:8

October 27, 2014

     Defacement (The Death of Michael Stewart), 1983.  Jean Michel Basquiat

Defacement (The Death of Michael Stewart), 1983. Jean Michel Basquiat

Truth is powerful and it prevails.
~Sojourner Truth

try not to define it

October 26, 2014

Keith Haring - Unfinished Painting (1989)

Keith Haring – Unfinished Painting (1989)

The quieter you become, the more you can hear.
~Ram Dass

Meryl Meisler

Meryl Meisler

It was the best of times; it as the worst of times. New York City in the 1970s was a world unto itself, a world that was both burdened by poverty and government neglect, and burgeoning with culture and art. For many who lived through this time, it was something more than that. It was a time before AIDS. A time before crack. And a time before the Internet.

New York City in the 1970s was a place that was so ripe, it was all but ready to burst. The city streets was derelict and desolate, yet never without heart. The city’s nightclubs like Studio 54 were a study in life lived according to the bon mot, après moi le deluge. Combined together, they revealed both a joie de vivre and quiet despair that only comes when you live on edge of existence in the present tense.

Photographer Meryl Meisler recently released A Tale of Two Cities: Disco Era Bushwick (Bizarre Publishing), a deeply felt compendium of days and night in the city that never sleeps. Taken together, the juxtaposition of Meisler’s work reads as pure and unfettered delight. Despite the pain of poverty and the dissolution of that it may cause, Meisler’s Bushwick shows us the heroism of the human spirit and its undeniable resilience. Meisler speaks with The Click about her days and nights in New York, where the camera became her passport to documenting the city as it stood at that time.

Read the full story at THE CLICK.

Andi Potamkin and Steven Kasher, photograph by Jake Chessum

Andi Potamkin and Steven Kasher, photograph by Jake Chessum

Romantic. Seductive. Intimate. Kasher|Potamkin Gallery exquisitely embodies the spirit of our times with a profoundly personal approach to art. The gallery, which operates as a boutique with a cash-and-carry policy, has a flair that is rarely, if ever felt, in the traditional white box approach to exhibiting art. Like Alice stepping through the looking glass, we are transported into a wonderland of sensuous delights. The eye cast itself around the room while the fingers long to touch. “Curiouser and curiouser!” our inner Alice cries.

Two pieces by the Haas Brothers jump up off the floor, reminding me of nothing so much as four-legged versions of the trees from “The Lorax”. One black, one white, identified as the Grace Tall stool and the Dolph Tall stool from the Beast series; I long to stroke one of these darlings discreetly. But then my eye alights upon the Maurizio Galante and Tal Lancman marble-looking chair titled “Louis XV goes to Sparta.” I surreptitiously approach it, trying not to stare. These pieces are very effective. I’m feeling coy, even flirty. But is it the art—or is it the gallery?

Located at 515 West 26 Street, NY, Kasher|Potamkin is adjacent to the newly relocated Steven Kasher Gallery, which specializes in fine art photography. The two galleries complement each other beautifully. Steven Kasher Gallery is beautifully austere, allowing the clean, flat open lines of the wide, open vistas to hold large-scale photography with a gentle ease. The simplicity of the space plays as the perfect backdrop to the quiet grandeur of the photographs sequenced along the wall. It is a tall drink of water, fresh and restorative, a way to be alone with the art. Whereas in Kasher|Potamkin, the art bustles brilliantly, a mélange of mercurial temperaments that make disengagement all but impossible.

Taken together, the galleries are in perfect harmony, a yin yang flow of energy that creates more than just balance. It creates conversation. For it is in the marriage of the two that a new space is born. A space of dialogue and discovery. A space of love manifest in art.

Kasher|Potamkin opened its doors in September 2014 to critical acclaim and commercial success with the two-art inaugural exhibition “Intangible Beauty.” Dedicated to the spirit of the divine feminine, the exhibition began with “Beautiful Women” and closes on November 1 with “The Endless Void.” The exhibition, which features a subtly-evolving installation of works of photography, sculpture, ceramics, furniture, jewelry, painting, and objects d’art, features work by over forty emerging, mid-career, and established artists, many of whom are female, including Marianna Rothen, Marie Hochhaus, Philip Treacy, Delphine Diallo, Lina Viktor, Daido Moriyama, and Beatrix Ost, among many more.

When one steps into Kasher|Potamkin, one feels a sense of style and beauty that compels one forth, a certain je ne sais quoi that makes the installation a work of art unto itself. There is a certain grace, a certain knowing. It is the eternal feminine that wafts through the air like eau du parfum. It is the essence that is revealed as Andi Potakmin rises from her custom-made desk and begins to speak.

Read the Full Story at THE CHIC.

Karen Kilimnik: Photographs, 2014

Walter Pfeiffer: Cherchez la femme!, 2007

Screen shot 2014-10-21 at 7.33.33 AM

Karen Kilimnik: Photographs, 2014

Edition Patrick Frey was founded in 1986 in Zurich, Switzerland, as publisher/editor. The house provides young artists with a platform for a first publication, as well as engages in long-term collaborations with artists including Walter Pfeiffer, Peter Fischli & David Weiss, and Andreas Züst. Today, the house publishes 15-20 books a year (“Too many!!” as Frey says), with a staff of are two full time and three part-time collaborators.

Each book is wonderfully considered on its own terms, conceptualized and conceived as an objet d’art befitting its subject. Publisher Patrick Frey has graciously agreed to speak about book publishing today.

Miss Rosen: Please talk about the mission for Edition Patrick Frey (EPF). How do you approach visual book publishing as a medium to communicate and explore larger ideas about the culture in which we live? What themes and motifs occur in the list as examples of this vision, and in what way?

Patrick Frey; I guess the term mission is missing the point a little bit. It sounds almost religious, as if I had have a message as a publisher. In German, when asked your message, there is a nice answer: messages are for carrier pigeons. When I started in 1986, it was all about artist books, books with artistic content, beautiful books. First of all, books were a medium to translate an artist’s work in a very direct way. The book could be considered a condensed body of the artist’s artwork itself, autonomous, not to be modified and not to be mediated or even explained. These years left its marks on my attitude as a publisher. That is why, from the beginning, every single book of EPF looked totally different, specific. And why there were very few or no comments. It was a sort of the contrary of a branding strategy.

With the years, my vision or maybe perspective – because vision is another one of those suspicious-looking terms – got broader and the books more diverse. Now we publish all kind of non-fiction books, some of them even look like ordinary photo books or even coffee table books, and still – there is this unchanged urge to keep our concept of a book absolutely non-ordinary, to maintain a specific and highly artistic approach.

Miss Rosen: What I love most about your list is the energy each book holds, the way each title is an exploration into its own world, and in some way, each is like a visual poem that gives us a new way of perceiving the ways in which photography can be used to tell stories. I am particularly interested by the way in which photographs are used to create a narrative in book form. It is the photograph that one meditates upon after (or in lieu of) reading the word. As a publisher, what are your thoughts on how the photograph connects and imparts ideas, energies, experience? How do you think the book does something that other forms of photography (the print, the scan) can not?

Patrick Frey: A photograph can be a narrative by itself. But this narrative is entirely different from the narrative it takes in a book. It is non-sequential, non-directional. Looking at a single photography, one experiences more something like a narrative field, creating a multitude of associative possibilities, fragments of stories, narrative paths and crossroads. A print on the wall of an art space is a free-floating piece of art. There are some references, maybe a reference to the print next to it, to a certain body of work, to the history of photography, or to certain trends in contemporary art, but the contextual references are rather coincidental and mostly rather weak. A book is and always was by its nature a medium of storytelling and reflection. That is, if you put photographs in a book, you sort of force them into a strong contextual reference, and you expose them to a specific kind of reflection, for instance into the dialogical structure of the double page. And most of all, you force them into a totally different kind of storytelling.

In a book – if it’s not just a simple collection of pictures, a typical catalogue, so to speak – the narrative power of photography becomes directional. Somehow, a book tells a story always in one and the same direction: from a beginning on page one to the end on the last page. Books do not just tell stories sometimes, like a novel for instance. Books are embodiments of narrative, they are narrative blueprints, they lead you on a journey, or through a man’s life, or follow somebody’s trains of thought. Books will always be mementos of odysseys or Bibles or Madame Bovarys. That is the referential impact photography always will encounter if it is published in a book.

Miss Rosen: Where did your love for books begin? Do you recall some of your favorite illustrated books? What made them alluring to you in your earlier years? Do you see a connection between the influence of certain authors, art directors, or publishers on your work as a publisher today?

Patrick Frey: I grew up on the countryside, quite idyllic, and I think my first love in the kingdom of illustrated books was Beatrix Potter. I adored The Tale of Peter Rabbit or The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies, and in my eyes everything was totally real and highly animated. I was really terrified each time I saw the Mr. McGregor, the evil gardener, coming round the greenhouse, knowing that Peter hadn’t seen him. I loved these kind of strong feelings, mostly the fear – or Angstlust, to use a German term, that were triggered entirely by the illustrations.

Like in Struwwelpeter, a famous German educational book, a collection of quite sadistic stories about misbehaving children that are severely punished. Like Konrad, the thumbsucker. He is warned by his mum: Stop sucking your thumb, otherwise the evil tailor will come and cut your thumb. But Konrad continues sucking his thumb. And then comes the evil tailor and cuts Konrad’s thumb off and you see the blood dripping on the floor. Over and over, I checked the thumb falling to the floor and the dripping blood. Or the history of the Suppenkaspar who is not eating his soup and gets thinner and thinner from picture to picture, until he is drawn like a matchstick man and then you just see the soup bowl sitting on the grave of most probably the first anorexic (a boy!) in literary history.

I don’t know if there are any connections between the book experiences of my early childhood and my preferences today. I know that I still love and that I am still looking for very powerful emotions, triggered by images, be it photographic or otherwise. It may seem a bit of a naïve concept, but it is not because it is always combined with an intensive need or even desire for qualities like complexity and referential ambiguity or extreme precision. Because it is telling me a lot about the relationship between the author and his / her object or subject of desire – for me one of the most important issues in photography at all.

Like for instance in Mom/Dad by Terry Richardson, published by Mörel Books, one of those books I would have died to publish myself, a highly unsentimental and hilariously funny book on the author’s parents that reports on this relationship in such extreme, brutal and tender intensity that it makes you cry.

Miss Rosen: As technology takes hold, we are relating to image and text in new ways. How do you think digital media informs our experience of print? How does this impact the publishing industry? What aspects of digital culture have made work in books more exciting?

Patrick Frey: As digital publishing has almost completely conquered the news and information market, the analogue book is shifting from an informational medium towards a more artistic medium. There is a growing consciousness for the book as a physical object, for the book as a work of craft or art, a feeling for the book as a fetish. Among artists, there is definitely a growing desire to publish a printed artist book. Our concept and our experience of printed matter will become more aesthetical. Even if you look at average hardcover books nowadays, you will already find an intensified sensitivity for aesthetic values. Many ordinary catalogues or fictional books look like artist books now. There is even a growing consciousness for the experience of reading a real printed book, for the smell, the touch, the paper, the binding. Printed books are pimped and pushed towards physical fetish-like objects with added value, collectors items. What has been already true for artist books like ours for quite a while, will become a general rule: Printed books will increasingly be bought by book collectors. Or by people who are looking for a gift.

On the other hand, digitalization created growing sensitivity for the waste of paper. Not only if I look at a book proposal, if I look at any printed book, the first question now is: Does this REALLY need to be printed? Because the problem is: To print a book doesn’t MEAN that much anymore, everybody can make his own totally okay looking artist book online or create an evenly nice looking 800 pages non-fiction book with Wikipedia texts in less than 15 minutes and get it printed in ten days for about 30 bucks each. Digitalization means speeding up analogue processes, digitalization means self-publishing, and both naturally is a blessing and a curse. Ten years ago, book proposals looked like book proposals, bundles of copied material, stapled or glued together by hand. Now book proposals look like state-of-the-art printed books. I call them phantom books because they look like books but they aren’t really, they are just first ideas from which the editing and publishing work starts. Editing is the key word here. One could say that digitalization caused a radical shift in perception: I think in the near future publishing a book means you have to deal much more with editing skills and coaching processes.

Maybe I have to correct on sentence from above: Among artists there is definitely a growing desire to publish a printed artist book with a publisher. Some of those authors are only hunting for distribution (they don’t really know that distribution in the tiny niche market for artist books is a disaster anyway!) but some others are looking for an upgrading of their editing process, for an intensive professional dialogue between author and publisher, who is not so much a distributor, rather than a curator – or even a midwife ! – in order to assist in creating and customizing this cultural high-end object named printed book.

Miss Rosen: There are a great many projects out there, and so many stories to be told. With the wealth of content made available today, how do you select books for publication? What kinds of stories appeal to you as a publisher? This is a big, broad sweeping question, but what do you think makes a book timeless?

Patrick Frey: No idea, I rarely think about publishing a “timeless“ book. Books are fashion victims like all other artifacts. Attitudes and styles come and go in waves, even content does. The best you can do, is try to be as radical and true to the cause as possible. And to be contemporary at least, or, as Rimbaud puts it, one must be absolutely modern. Which means you have to keep a sharp eye on everything that is out of fashion, fallen out of time. And then time will tell. As I said, no mission, no vision, just wide-open eyes and this everlasting love for intensity and for the eccentric. Try to learn from the authors. And what selection concerns: no method and no recipe. Even in times where the so-called “freedom of choice“ seems to become overwhelming.

For more information, please visit
Edition Patrick Frey

Roswitha Hecke: Irene, 2011

Roswitha Hecke: Irene, 2011

Patrick Frey, photograph © Daniel Ammann

Patrick Frey, photograph © Daniel Ammann

a window open

October 19, 2014

 The Archimedes’ Principle ~ Rene Magritte

The Archimedes’ Principle ~ Rene Magritte

Trying to speak about the ultimate reality is like sending a kiss through a messenger.
~ Rumi

Cartier-Bresson. Photograph by Jane Brown

Cartier-Bresson. Photograph by Jane Bown

Every year, the photography community comes together to honor those whose life’s work has blazed a path, like a candle lighting the dark, at the annual Lucie Awards, an annual gala ceremony honoring the masters of the medium. The 2014 Lucie Awards will be held on November 2 at Zankel Hall at Carnegie Hall, New York. This years honorees include Carrie Mae Weems (Fine Art), Martin Parr (Documentary), Jane Brown (Lifetime Achievement), Nick Ut (Photojournalism), Nan Goldin (Portraiture), and Pedro Meyer (Visionary Award).

Awards will also be given to individuals and organizations who are nominated and selected by the Photography Advisory Board honoring the best of 2014 for support categories including: Print Advertising Campaign, Magazine Fashion Layout, Exhibition/Curator, Book Publisher, Picture Editor, and Photography Magazine of the Year.

Additionally, the Lucie Awards will present the International Photography Awards (IPA), an annual, juried competition that is open to all photographers, professional and non-professional. Through the competition, top honors are provided, one of which is Discovery of the Year, an award for non-professional emerging talent that is awarded a $5,000 cash prize and a statue. Additional categories awarded at the Lucies include of International Photographer, Deeper Perspective Photographer, and Moving Image Photographer.

Highlights from the International Photography Awards will be featured in the 2014 Best of Show gallery exhibition. Best of Show will premier in New York on November 1. The exhibition opening will be hosted by the Splashlight Studios from 7-10pm and will launch a week of celebrations and photography-filled events preceding the Lucie Awards Gala taking place November 2.

Each year, a distinguished person within the photography community is invited to be a Guest Curator for the annual IPA Best of Show Exhibition. This year, David Clarke, Head of Photography Emeritus of Tate Modern, will be assuming the 2014 honorary position in continuation of this prestigious curatorial legacy.

Following its New York debut, the Best of Show exhibition will then begin its world-wide tour which will include openings in Italy, Bangkok, Paris, North Carolina, and Los Angeles where it will take place as a part of month-long festival of photography celebration, Month of Photography Los Angeles, a program of the Lucie Foundation.

Lucie Awards Founder and Chair Hossein Farmani and Executive Director Cat Jimenez sat down to speak with The Click, sharing with us their commitment to honoring the greatest achievements in photography.

Read the full story at THE CLICK.

the soul of the universe

October 16, 2014

A boat on the Sumida River in moonlight, Arai Yoshimune. (1873 - 1945)

A boat on the Sumida River in moonlight, Arai Yoshimune. (1873 – 1945)

Stillness reveals the secrets of eternity.
~Lao Tzu

Pati Hansen 1979 ink on paper  102x63 inches

Before digital there was analog.
Before inkjet printing there was Anton Perich.
Before reality TV, there was Anton Perich.

No, Wade Guyton did not “invent a new paint brush,” Anton Perich did in 1978, when Guyton was six. Inspired by the image-making processes of video technology in which he’d immersed himself as a pioneering producer of underground television in New York, Perich developed a colossal “electric painting machine,” a painterly precursor to the inkjet printers of today.

Postmasters announces the first large-scale exhibition of Anton Perich’s electric paintings, which includes a full range of early and recent work, both abstract and figurative. The exhibition will also include screenings of a selection of Perich’s art world ur-reality TV series, which aired on Manhattan’s public access cable

Anton Perich arrived on the New York art scene in 1970, as a photographer and pioneering
videographer. “I got a still camera and went shooting every night,” he said, and his images—including those he published in Night, the magazine he founded in 1978–captured the personalities and happenings of this wild moment in the city’s history. Seeking to collapse the gap between this tumultuous, creative reality and the sanitized world presented on the mainstream television of the day, Perich started shooting with a Sony Portapak video recorder. He transformed the craze and excess, the low-res soap operatic dramas of real people, into what we now recognize as reality TV.

Through his immersion in the scene, and his proximity to Andy Warhol, Perich developed an interest in painting and its relationship to his more technological forms of image-making. Video cameras and television tubes encoded and decoded images line by line, like a text. Perich set out to embody this modern transformation of visual information to electronic signal in paint. The result was the electric painting machine, which painted canvases up to 12 feet using airbrushes controlled by a photovoltaic scanning mechanism. The unexpectedly expressive aesthetics of this technological mediation continue to occupy a central place in Perich’s painting practice.

Executing paintings line by line, in a process that would become familiar with the advent of inkjet printers, the electric painting machine enabled Perich to find his “own brushstroke,” even as it ostensibly removed the artist’s hand from production. Warhol recorded in his diary: “They said Anton was home with his painting machine and I was so jealous. My dream. To have a machine that could paint while you are away. But they said he had to be there while it painted because (laughs) it clogs up. Isn’t that funny?”

Perich’s experimentation led him to create large-scale paintings, some that “reproduced” his iconic photographic images and some that were abstractions, electric noise, painting fields of color and lines fed by him into the machine. While his portraits reveal the ghost of an image, his uncropped abstract canvasses shift the focus of attention from the rich finished surfaces to the edges of the painting where the picture-writing process is laid bare. Machines are made to be perfect. In mechanically or electronically created contemporary artworks glitch/mistake/imperfection is often re-introduced into the outcome as if to humanize the tool. Perich calibrates his machine paintings, though, to be just precise and perfect enough to capture the essence of the image and the process.

The early paintings were made on raw canvas with acrylic or oil paint. In some places the paint gently permeates the canvas; in others the layers of paint have built up to a rich, voluptuous, and intense surface.

Recent paintings are often painted on fully or partially gessoed canvas, which keeps the paint on the surface. Sometimes coalescing into low-res images, sometimes dissolving into abstraction, Perich’s surfaces always revel in their own materiality, as layers of paints of differing consistencies variously build up, drip and run. A sophisticated colorist when called for, Perich also references the visual intensity of his photography by narrowing his palette to the greyscale spectrum.

Perich is not afraid of scale, his “Blow Up”-like monumental canvases are in open conversation with the large-scale experiments of his peers. What emerges from his body of work is a consistent, fearless, investigative artist, always true to his time, then and now. An artist parsing out the visual cacophony of his videos, navigating the sirens of mediation, and creating minimalist expression in his evanescent, nearly abstract paintings. The missing link between late Warhol and early digital art.

Postmasters Gallery
54 Franklin Street in Tribeca
Tuesday through Saturday 11 – 6
with Thursday hours extended to 8pm

Mannequin 1978 oil on canvas

Pedro Paricio. The Golden Player. Serie Diary of an artist, 2012. Acrylic on linen, 130x97 cm. Courtesy Halcyon Gallery, London

Pedro Paricio. The Golden Player. Serie Diary of an artist, 2012. Acrylic on linen, 130×97 cm. Courtesy Halcyon Gallery, London

Closed off in a studio, removed from the world, Pedro Paricio wears a black hat as he channels the spirits of the earth through the tip of his brush. In his studio he paints for twelve hours a day, day after day, taking a day off maybe once a week, but never more. Being away from the studio makes him hunger for it more.

Paricio’s most recent show “Shaman” opened earlier this year at Halcyon Gallery, London, and published in a catalog of the same name. The paintings collected here are portals into another world, distinctly alluring rabbit holes to a starburst wonderland. As tour guide to an altered state, Paricio’s work is at once rich yet stark, the deepest blacks centering our eye on to his path. Complementing this series is “The Spirit of Paining,” a series of 37 works on paper that refer to specific works of art from the Spanish Baroque and Italian Renaissance, remade in Paricio’s vision of the infinite space that the canvas as portal creates.

Born in Tenerife in the Canary Islands, Paricio chose to engage with art because he was in search of life, a life that would take him from the island of his childhood and bring him to Salamanca, Spain. “The Canary Paradise,” his first solo show, was held in 2007 at Ikara Skate Shop & Gallery, in Barcelona. He supported himself as an artist by taking a wide range of jobs, everything from editing magazines to being a clown at children’s parties. He was committed, as only a true believer can, to the understanding that painting is his destiny.

As Paricio recalls, “My first show was called ‘The Canary Paradise.’ The Canary Islands is something to live. It is a place you need to feel in yourself. We live in a worldwide culture, where big cities are close to one another with similar shops, books, fashions, and styles. The Canary Islands has an old soul. Our people follow traditions. We do many things in the same way as our fathers and grandfathers, still a lot of islanders from the countryside areas fishing and growing food in our gardens.

“The light in the Canary Islands is very important. The weather is good all year round. It is a paradise. Tenerife, my island, has the highest mountain in Spain. We have different weather systems. It is a micro-world. The people are very relaxed here. No one is running here. You walk. You don’t run. You stop in a shop and talk to the people. There is no stress on this island. People are happy.”

Read the Full Story THE CHIC.

Boza Ivanovic

Boza Ivanovic

It is the photograph that has introduced the world to art in the age of reproduction, the copy becoming the way in which we understand the original. And so it is that the photograph is the means to literally objectify our world. We gaze upon photographs as a means to travel beyond our limited scope and we take in what lies inside the frame and unconsciously disregard all else. And while we understand intellectually the need to question what we are told, seeing is believing in the sighted world.

It is for this reason that many become photographers; they need to tell their stories without words. Words are creation of the left brain, the way in which we translate experience into a complex coding that creates reality through the abstraction of language. But the photograph operates in the right brain; it speaks all languages simultaneously. Anyone looking at a photograph can read it, although various interpretations of the same photograph are certainly possible and likely.   And so it is that in the photographs of Boza Ivanovic collected in Out of the Wild: Zoo Portraits (Glitterati Incorporated) that we are given layers of meaning in each image, each layer to be slowly peeled back and considered on its own merit.

“I did not focus on photographing animals until after I was recuperating from a motorcycle accident. The picture that rekindled my love for animal photography was taken at the San Diego zoo in Southern California when I was there for the sole purpose of taking my then six-year-old son. It was a photograph of a tiger. The beast, as I saw it, was in a perfect, mysterious combination of darkness and light. Since then on, I have focused all my energy to develop the kind of animal photography that would portrait the beauty, traits and characteristics of these caged animals. I have come to know and develop great admiration and respect for all the animals I have photographed since it requires quite a large amount of time and patience to have all the necessary elements to come together to take just one photograph.”

At first glance at Ivanovic’s photographs, we are struck by a high contrast graphics that draw us in, for darkness is never so radiant when light shines through its untenable depths. Set against these vast and impenetrable fields of black are animals, exotic and foreign to our normal lives. These are not the creatures we observe in the course of our day, not our domesticated pets or the livestock that provides us with food, apparel, or accessories. The animals of Ivanovic’s photographs are not creatures of comfort or creatures of use. They are creatures of curiosity, creatures of grandeur, creatures of dreams and nightmares, creatures of a world not our own, for each lives within a confined area, in a zoo.

Read the Full Story at THE CLICK.

quiet as kept

October 8, 2014


Henri Matisse - The Window, 1916

Henri Matisse – The Window, 1916

The soul becomes dyed with the colour of its thoughts.
~Marcus Aurelius


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