Welcome to the catalogue of our daily curations, here for a good time, not a long time. Follow our Instagram to get them hot off the press.
In Dominican, "pampara" means "lit". Across all of her work it is important for photographer Renell Medrano, born Dominican and raised in the Bronx, to centralize her semi-constructed photos around the colloquial, because it is also important for her to illuminate the inner worlds of her memory. Like a telescope took to a nearby star she enlarges the culture of the Dominican Republic in 2020's 'PAMPARA', re-staging the real to pronounce herself prouder, and voice memory more visceral through a light-speed lens of childhood and the twinkling of heritage.
Giambologna's Appennine Colossus
2 / 19 May 2022
1 / 18 May 2022
"HARMONIZE YOUR EXTERNAL APPEARANCE WITH YOUR INNERMOST THOUGHTS. THE HARMONY BETWEEN THE TWO IS HOW AN INDIVIDUAL BECOMES AN INDIVIDUAL." That's a rule in Ai Wei Wei's 2022 manifesto for life and creativity. Famed production designer, Eiko Ishioka, seemed to understand the soul's constant imbalance, and designs like the heart is haemorrhaging out of the skin's pores in a cloth bloom, or walling the character's in the scapes of their own dreams.
3 / 23 May 2022
0 / 13 May 2022
"As great as Father Appennine himself, when he roars with all his oaks and raises his snowy head to heaven" - Virgil.
Giambologna built his Colossus as guardian over the blood-decked mountainside where Aeneas violently quested for utopia. Most surprising about his stalagmitic bastion, crouched like the hermit gods of Blake's paintings, is that it is filled with a series of internal chambers and pools. It is as if Giambologna continued Aeneas quest to terraform an empire and testified its actual glory. We assume that we are reducing the earth by gutting it and interrupting our own numinous return to the soil, but perhaps we are instead rebirthing it around us, making out of our planet a new gnarled solar shape and constructing new mountains to love and war in the heart of.
What he claims is "predicated on spiritual realities", Khalik Allah's portraits seem to me to be about the nocturnal: the myriad dimensions of night, the human experience of the after-dark, and those people keeping strange hours navigating both the terror and enchantment that weaves itself into the darkness. The night has its own inner logic, one with different perceptions and different morals, connected to things much, much larger: time, fear, nothingness, desire, death, forgetting, vision, secrecy, criminality, monstrosity, and possibility.
5 / 29 May 2022
The Sugar Shack
Ernie Barnes' 'The Sugar Shack' (1976) set an auction record at Christie's last week, crystallising the painting as a cultural touchstone: without trying to academise something that obviously means something to a race of people more immaterial than labels like "neo-mannerism" can define it as, the artwork fluctuates a beautiful, soaring energy (cinematic, downbeat, erotic - exactly like Marvin Gaye, who used the painting as the album cover for his 1976 "I Want You") and one whose reverberations are, evidently, still ringing out today.
4 / 25 May 2022
It's a useful exercise to write down your perfect world. Mine might be textured in block colours. The honey perfume of rapeseed carried on a sapphire breeze and the asphalt bounce of beaten white trainers to the garden of rose friends whose laughter saturates torn jean adventures in cars driving fast with the windows down. Soul music, spicy food and books. The repeating remembrance that an hour is actually a very long time and I have many hours and I have many days.
6 / 30 May 2022
"What I love is to act on the canvas. To act? That is to scratch, to tear, to stain, to invade the canvas with colour, in beef everything which is not too paint"
After losing his leg in a Spanish concentration camp, Hartung began to paint. His canvases are swathe, devoid of doctrine, favouring disharmony as if an attempt to display humanity in all its miasma and chaos; the work a lasting residue of a dramatic life.
Klimt VS Shiele
7 / 31 May 2022
Ribs and Gold
Gustav Klimt's depiction of sexuality not only maintains modesty, but is a glorified version of that modesty, wrapping his subjects in glowing, opulent cloths that seem to be an extension of the bodies themselves. We wonder if the cloth is a fantasy, a projection of sensation and ego. They are encompassed and hidden, revealing only what is needed to be revealed - holy creatures of a holy space.
Then, Egon Schiele, Klimt's student, approaching our First World War: the same subject matter undressed. A bare, bony truth that rears its ugly head in agonizingly angled manifestations. Why do these images seem so much like those from a horror film? They are us without a filter - flesh, blood and bone - bodies without quilted dreams.
8 / 05 June 2022
Why does 'High Life' (2018) feature so many shots of hands? Even the poster features hands, as if giving you a lens to view the film through. Is it something fetishistic, like the hand that is crawling up your thigh, or the one that grips your penis or the fingers you suck on? Or is it people reaching out, as they reach out into the ether, or people grasping at air, at their past, at any form of connection?
Walter Loss Jr & Neil Leifer
9 / 8 June 2022
Sports and Art
Is sport an art? It is both a daunting and (seemingly) paradoxical question that has haunted me ever since I was a kid. They are my two great loves. To try to separate them feels unjust, but to deny their differences feels like I'm undermining their qualities. Either way, throughout history sport has at least been a constant and rich focal point as the subject of artist's work. And I think sport's artistry has never been clearer than in the photos of Loss Jr and Leifer, two giants in their field, that climbed Mount Olympus with a Leica and brought back photos of Gods and printed them on the glossy pages of Life. Bless them.
Giorgio de Chirico
10 / 11 June 2022
I want to take a baseball bat to the symbols of Giorgio de Chirico's world.
One molten pot
On a nowhere altar.
Whether they are snapping hyenas
Or warring titans
The glassware of the earth still trembles.
Pull down the cloak of stars
To make your papal robes
From a tantrum no one
It's your desert.