We Made a Blog
4 years ago
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Tumblr, you’ve done more than we could have asked for in supporting our blogging venture; all without seeking a single thing in return. And so, we sing your praises.
But we’re trying out a new platform that helped us put a shiny new suit on our blog. So everyone adjust your RSS feeds and meet us over at our new digs at wemadeablog.com.

Tumblr, you’ve done more than we could have asked for in supporting our blogging venture; all without seeking a single thing in return. And so, we sing your praises.

But we’re trying out a new platform that helped us put a shiny new suit on our blog. So everyone adjust your RSS feeds and meet us over at our new digs at wemadeablog.com.

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4 years ago
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The Inanimate and the Inamorata

In this short film by Ramin Bahrani, the protagonist finds and loses the love of his life, sending him on an existential quest to reach the vortex. Werner Herzog gives voice to his reflections against a celestial score by Sigur Rós' Kjartan Sveinsson. Have we mentioned the protagonist is a plastic bag? You'll cry anyway.

"Plastic Bag"
Directed, written and edited by Ramin Bahrani

Story by Jenni Jenkins and Ramin Bahrani
Voice of Werner Herzog
Cinematography by Michael Simmonds
Music by Kjartan Sveinsson

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4 years ago
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Artexpo New York
Sometimes the best way to describe something is by its absence. It gives the thing shape, a construct zoned by everything it’s not. Yesterday art took form at Artexpo New York but only by not being there. Squatting at Pier 94, a space that just weeks ago hosted the Armory Show, Artexpo was filled with galleries setting up camps of wall-hangings where there should have been paintings and statues where there should have been sculpture. All the area airport Marriotts must have been booked. Row after dizzying row of horses running on beaches, tourist-targeting city scenes and photography that gave lie to the aphorism that any photo blown-up can pass as art. For those who have trouble discerning nude from naked, they need only have viewed the Playboy-pose-based paintings that formed their own category at Artexpo. Soft-focus soft-core that even had sub-genres: religious (Da Vinci’s “Madonna of the Rocks” huddled in one corner of a painting that could only appropriately be called “Madonna on the Rocks”), fantasy and with koi. Legitimate artists were bastardized and it was impossible not to conjure their presence in the crowded cubbies. Andy Warhol might have wandered through, dazzled by the commercialization of it all; forty of the same painting being sold like so many cans of soup. Monet may have called the authorities when he discovered the actress Jane Seymour had been prancing across the bridge in his garden at Giverny. The tiger may have lost its place as muse to Henri Rousseau if he’d seen the close-up of one clutching a rose in its teeth. Picasso, who wouldn’t allow out of his possession so much as a scrap of paper with his handwriting on it, would have sued for the white canvas bearing a replication of his distinctive signature. In the end, what I would have liked to have seen most would be Jackson Pollock rushing in like a fanatical PETA protester and violently drip-painting everyone there.

Artexpo New York

Sometimes the best way to describe something is by its absence. It gives the thing shape, a construct zoned by everything it’s not. Yesterday art took form at Artexpo New York but only by not being there.
 
Squatting at Pier 94, a space that just weeks ago hosted the Armory Show, Artexpo was filled with galleries setting up camps of wall-hangings where there should have been paintings and statues where there should have been sculpture. All the area airport Marriotts must have been booked.
 
Row after dizzying row of horses running on beaches, tourist-targeting city scenes and photography that gave lie to the aphorism that any photo blown-up can pass as art. For those who have trouble discerning nude from naked, they need only have viewed the Playboy-pose-based paintings that formed their own category at Artexpo. Soft-focus soft-core that even had sub-genres: religious (Da Vinci’s “Madonna of the Rocks” huddled in one corner of a painting that could only appropriately be called “Madonna on the Rocks”), fantasy and with koi.
 
Legitimate artists were bastardized and it was impossible not to conjure their presence in the crowded cubbies. Andy Warhol might have wandered through, dazzled by the commercialization of it all; forty of the same painting being sold like so many cans of soup. Monet may have called the authorities when he discovered the actress Jane Seymour had been prancing across the bridge in his garden at Giverny. The tiger may have lost its place as muse to Henri Rousseau if he’d seen the close-up of one clutching a rose in its teeth. Picasso, who wouldn’t allow out of his possession so much as a scrap of paper with his handwriting on it, would have sued for the white canvas bearing a replication of his distinctive signature. In the end, what I would have liked to have seen most would be Jackson Pollock rushing in like a fanatical PETA protester and violently drip-painting everyone there.

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4 years ago
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» Monday Morning Getaway | No24

Death becomes her.

"The Lady and the Reaper"
Written and directed by Javier Recio Gracia

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4 years ago
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» Christopher Niemann’s Latest
The dot com.

» Christopher Niemann’s Latest

The dot com.

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» Monday Morning Getaway | No23

Fly away home.

"Galileo"
Created by
Avrillon Ghislain
Music by
Gildas Le Goff
Song by
Isabelle Dorange

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4 years ago
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» Helvetica the Movie

…is now on Vimeo!!

UPDATE: Hopefully you caught it while it was up.

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4 years ago
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» Zelda Meets Google Maps, Hyrule to Dominate
I mostly posted this because it has to do with New York and 8-bit graphics. However, creator Brett Camper has more to say:
"8-Bit NYC is an attempt to make the city feel foreign yet  familiar, smashing together two culturally common models of space: the  lo-fi overhead world maps of 1980s role-playing and adventure games, and  the geographically accurate data that drives today’s web maps and GPS  navigation. I hope to evoke the same urge for exploration, abstract  sense of scale, and perhaps most importantly unbounded excitement that  many of us remember experiencing on the Nintendo Entertainment System,  the Commodore 64, or any other number of 8-bit microcomputers. Maps  offer us visual architectures of the world, encouraging us to think  about and interact with space in particularly constrained ways. Take  some time to think about New York a little differently. Set out on a  quest. Be an adventurer."

» Zelda Meets Google Maps, Hyrule to Dominate

I mostly posted this because it has to do with New York and 8-bit graphics. However, creator Brett Camper has more to say:

"8-Bit NYC is an attempt to make the city feel foreign yet familiar, smashing together two culturally common models of space: the lo-fi overhead world maps of 1980s role-playing and adventure games, and the geographically accurate data that drives today’s web maps and GPS navigation. I hope to evoke the same urge for exploration, abstract sense of scale, and perhaps most importantly unbounded excitement that many of us remember experiencing on the Nintendo Entertainment System, the Commodore 64, or any other number of 8-bit microcomputers. Maps offer us visual architectures of the world, encouraging us to think about and interact with space in particularly constrained ways. Take some time to think about New York a little differently. Set out on a quest. Be an adventurer."

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» Monday Morning Getaway | No22

By: Onur Sentuk
Client: Self-Initiated
Role: Art Direction, Design, Animation, Compositing
Date: February 2010
Format: Short Film 1024*576 Widescreen Pal
Sound: ECHOLAB Gavin Little

(Dot Com)

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4 years ago
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Pier-to-Pier Networking at the Armory Show
The Art Basel of New York, the Armory Show has stretched itself across two piers of the West Side this year. Pier 94 is what has been the show proper since 2001 - contemporary art exhibited by galleries from the world over - and Pier 92 is contemporary art’s forefather, modern art.
There’s a definite family resemblance between the generations. Bruce Nauman’s neon spiral “The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths” gets tweaked by Bert Rodriguez to “The True Artist Makes Useless Shit for Rich People to Buy” (price: $25,000). Robert Indiana‘s steadfast block of “LOVE“ degrades into Marc Bijl‘s suggestively drippy “PORN.” Alex Katz’s flat portraits are everywhere, even when they’re not done by Katz.
Opening night was bustling enough to make the cavernous piers uncomfortably warm. Though you could dash outside for a bracing hit of river air to get from one pier to another and share a freight elevator ride with the likes of fashion design team Costello Tagliapietra. Or get spritzed with the refreshing, faintly marine smell of Reid Seifer‘s “Spray to Forget” (a blend of crystal-bathed essential oils that promises to erase or replace bad memories) by Seifer himself. There was also the option of cooling off with a $16 flute of Pommery champagne, but why do that when absinthe, wine and mixed drinks flowed plentifully for free at the after party hosted at MoMA?
The pitch-darkness of the party was relieved by trippy wall projections and the opening horns of the band Human Rights (composed of members of Beirut, Psychic Ills, No Regular Play, and Volcano the Bear). Pernod’s absinthe station was a popular stop-off for those on their way to the dance floor in the lobby where Justin Miller DJ’ed. By the time The Walkmen took the stage under a lone and moody chandelier to amp up their subdued sounds for the crowd, there wasn’t space for anything but dancing and random hookups.

Pier-to-Pier Networking at the Armory Show

The Art Basel of New York, the Armory Show has stretched itself across two piers of the West Side this year. Pier 94 is what has been the show proper since 2001 - contemporary art exhibited by galleries from the world over - and Pier 92 is contemporary art’s forefather, modern art.

There’s a definite family resemblance between the generations. Bruce Nauman’s neon spiral “The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths” gets tweaked by Bert Rodriguez to “The True Artist Makes Useless Shit for Rich People to Buy” (price: $25,000). Robert Indiana‘s steadfast block of “LOVE“ degrades into Marc Bijl‘s suggestively drippy “PORN.” Alex Katz’s flat portraits are everywhere, even when they’re not done by Katz.

Opening night was bustling enough to make the cavernous piers uncomfortably warm. Though you could dash outside for a bracing hit of river air to get from one pier to another and share a freight elevator ride with the likes of fashion design team Costello Tagliapietra. Or get spritzed with the refreshing, faintly marine smell of Reid Seifer‘s “Spray to Forget” (a blend of crystal-bathed essential oils that promises to erase or replace bad memories) by Seifer himself. There was also the option of cooling off with a $16 flute of Pommery champagne, but why do that when absinthe, wine and mixed drinks flowed plentifully for free at the after party hosted at MoMA?

The pitch-darkness of the party was relieved by trippy wall projections and the opening horns of the band Human Rights (composed of members of Beirut, Psychic Ills, No Regular Play, and Volcano the Bear). Pernod’s absinthe station was a popular stop-off for those on their way to the dance floor in the lobby where Justin Miller DJ’ed. By the time The Walkmen took the stage under a lone and moody chandelier to amp up their subdued sounds for the crowd, there wasn’t space for anything but dancing and random hookups.

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