TED Talk, 2009: Art that looks back at you – Golan Levin and Collaborators

Posted in art, context by electricdream on April 21, 2010

exactly: Golan Levin

TED Talk, 2009: Art that looks back at you – Golan Levin and Collaborators.


The Bioluminescent Metropolis

Posted in art, design, future, surface by electricdream on February 6, 2010

BLDGBLOG: The Bioluminescent Metropolis.


Posted in art, context, fashion, surface, textile by electricdream on January 5, 2010


This amazingly quirky duo never fail to amaze and delight, while disturbing too!

This image from Grow on you
Lucyandbart is a collaboration between artists Lucy McRae and Bart Hess. In it they imagine human bodies and faces physically altered with a shocking but artistic realism. Globules of foam, asymmetric spines fascinating and repugnant simultaneously, the pictures become even more disturbing because they don’t hint at the emotional state of the subject. Each transformed human looks blankly back at you, neither horrified or surprised or excited about their change of form, but merely present and allowing it to be shown to you. It’s that sort of lucid acceptance, clearly not hiding the kind of imperfections and oddities that society mostly trains us to be ashamed of, that make staring at these ‘mutants’ even more unnerving.

S T E L A R C – bodies are both Zombies and Cyborgs

Posted in art, cyborg, technology by electricdream on January 5, 2010

We have never had a mind of our own and we often perform involuntarily … Ever since we evolved as hominids and developed bipedal locomotion, two limbs became manipulators and we constructed artifacts, instruments and machines …..

S T E L A R C.

Early Orta – the socioeconomic body

Posted in art, context, design, textile by electricdream on January 5, 2010

Sleeping pill

Posted in art, context, wearable by electricdream on January 27, 2009

Sleeping Pill
Rosemarie Trockel – Biennale of Venice
German Pavilion

Mary Mattingly

Posted in art, cyborg, diva ecu, fashion, future by electricdream on January 27, 2009

I had come across the work of Mary Mattingly a while ago, and loved it. Although she doesn’t create these garments/structures as “wearables” exactly, her haunting imagery and detailed descriptions are very inspiring!

““The fabric used is an outerlayer combination of Kaiok, a phase change material like Outlast® Adaptive Comfort®, waterproof Cordura, Solarweave UV protectant fabric, and the inner muslin layer. The fabric has the ability to keep the body at a comfortable temperature no matter the weather. The encapsulated warmers (like those found in electric blankets) are also woven into the innermost layer of the home, and through sensors, are adjusted to your bodies temperature and keep the home warm or cool on the inside to counteract the outside. The electronic silver threads in the fabric connecting to the sensors will give the wearers the ability to monitor themselves, their health and introspectively study themselves, as well as monitor the outdoor conditions, and transmit information to another, currently through a ZigBee connection or secure nodal random key coding and patterning frequency that can be set up to directly interface with another person’s home and information. This infrastructure will be able to receive signals from satellite and aid in GPS, mapping VA goggles, cel-sat and Internet.”
via pruned

Design as Art

Posted in art, design by electricdream on January 15, 2009

I read this lovely review on icon, and thought it very relevant to some of our conversations about art and design, particularly in this age of celebrity artists and celebrity designers. Now all i have to do is actually read the book …
words Rick Poynor
Bruno Munari’s Design as Art, first published in English in 1971, has been out of print for much too long and Penguin’s decision to reissue
it as a Modern Classic couldn’t be timelier. Inevitably, some elements of this collection of short writings have dated, but Munari’s way of thinking stands revealed – not for the first time – as extraordinarily prescient and relevant to many of the design problems we face today. His playful, inquiring, socially aware intelligence mark him as what we would now call a “critical designer”. The great charm and delicacy of his writing makes the humanity and good sense of his arguments even harder to resist.

By the 1960s, Munari was convinced that design had become the most significant visual art of its time. He had started as an artist himself, joining the Futurists in the late 1920s, and his own transformation into a designer gives his position added authority. Munari wanted to tear down the myth of the star artist who produces work for the intelligentsia. “It must be understood that as long as art stands aside from the problems of life it will only interest a very few people,” he writes. “Culture today is becoming a mass affair, and the artist must step down from his pedestal and be prepared to make a sign for a butcher’s shop (if he knows how to do it).”

Munari shared the Bauhaus ideal that art and life should be fused back together. The designer’s job was to respond to the needs of the time. Art should not be divorced from the everyday, an ideal world where we go to find beauty; visual quality should be part of everyone’s ordinary experience. Only when the objects we use and the places we inhabit have become works of art will life be in balance. Hand in hand with this goes a rejection of the idea of the designer with a personal style, which Munari regarded as a remnant of romanticism and a contradiction in terms.

His activities ran from graphic design to industrial design, by way of children’s books, and his observations are similarly elastic – such breadth of thinking is now rare. The book is sprinkled with Munari’s sketches of faces, chairs and letterforms, diagrams of his “useless machines” (aerial mobiles), theoretical reconstructions of imaginary objects, designs for lamps, and photos of his experiments with projected imagery. He points out that the ancient Japanese word for art, asobi, also means game, and this was the way he proceeded, as if playing a game, trying things out to see what would happen. Commentators have pointed out the Zen-like nature of his thinking and his passion for Japanese culture lies behind some of his most absorbing writing, including a lovely essay on the simplicity, lightness and adaptability of a traditional Japanese house. He concludes by contrasting this sarcastically with the uncivilised dirty marble of Italian homes.

Another essay directed at Italian readers begins by appearing to offer advice about knives, forks and spoons to young married people about to equip their kitchens. He runs through three pages of indispensable implements before suggesting, if all this seems a little expensive, a last resort – chopsticks. “Millions of people have been using them for thousands of years. But not us! No! Far too simple.” Fancy goods such as corkscrews like pigs’ tails and ashtrays in the form of little houses provoke similar ironies. Munari is everywhere opposed to excess. “Subtract rather than add,” he advises.