The Colour is a new group blog/tumblr style image log that catalogues beautiful Australian images. I’ve found some great art on it, including Robyn Sweaney’s paintings of houses that remind me a lot of Reg Mombassa’s acrylics of NZ farmhouses. I’m also digging Marcela Restrepo’s work, how good is this. Oh, and this super hot wallpaper that makes me wish I had a house I could cover it in.

Posted in Artrage on Sunday January 10, 2010. Shoutouts.

Robots and Donuts by Eric Joyner

Posted in Artrage on Wednesday February 4, 2009. Shoutouts.

You can’t find your way around Territory Twelve. The art of drawing maps has long since been relegated to the backward and the insane. You can only breathe in the cities thin atmosphere and pretend to be okay. The fact is you won’t remember how you got here or how to get back.

Territory Twelve is the first exhibition of Martin Wills, an apocalyptic science-fiction romp. It runs from the 12th to the 18th of November at Ginger’s Garage, upstairs at 267 William St, Northbridge. More info at http://territorytwelve.com/

Posted in Artrage on Saturday November 8, 2008. Shoutouts.

Yoko Tanaka, Igloo Head and Tree Head and Fritz Lang’s M.

Posted in Artrage on Saturday April 26, 2008. Shoutouts.

We poured over the coffee-table book the night before and in the morning walked down the broadway to an instant photo place, five PCs in the back room. Vague and non-specific printed map in hand we plotted our route through the labyrinthine tube network, our final goal a huge yellow flower on a wall near Bethnal Green.

Banksy is an icon now, his tongue in cheek creations worth thousands of pounds. Still, as we wander the streets of suburban London, we don’t see anyone else obviously doing what we are. We find four and are running concentric circles around where we think the fifth should be when a man pushing a scooter approaches us, “It’s not here. I know what you’re looking for, and it’s not here any more. They sold the wall it was on, the whole thing. Took it out and built a new wall. Two thousand pounds.”

“Oh,” we say, “that’s crazy. What a pity.” He snorts at us and rolls his eyes, “Crazy, yes, but it was there for three years,” as if it were stupid of us to dawdle on the opposite side of the world. Most don’t last a week.

There is a crack that runs the length of the Tate Modern, and I spend the afternoon looking at Pollocks and Mondrians, but nothing comes close to finding that yellow flower on the wall. Art is always personal.

Posted in Travel on Thursday January 24, 2008. Shoutouts [1].

Soft as sleep the snow fell

Posted in Artrage on Sunday October 7, 2007. Shoutouts.

Sugarshock: Battle Royale with Cheese (by. Joss Whedon & Fabio Moon)

Posted in Artrage on Sunday August 5, 2007. Shoutouts.

And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now. Hush, the babies are sleeping, the farmers, the fishers, the tradesmen and pensioners, cobbler, schoolteacher, postman and publican, the undertaker and the fancy woman, drunkard, dressmaker, preacher, policeman, the webfoot cocklewomen and the tidy wives. Young girls lie bedded soft or glide in their dreams, with rings and trousseaux, bridesmaided by glow-worms down the aisles of the organplaying wood.

-Dylan Thomas

Posted in Artrage on Wednesday May 23, 2007. Shoutouts.

The New Yorker attempts to hunt down Banksy, the “quality vandal” who’s hotter than hot right now – the only problem being that no-one seems to know who he actually is:

I asked Unangst what more he could tell me about Banksy, and he replied, “The only thing I can say is he’s like everybody, but he’s like nobody.” And so began the koan of Banksy, whose own talents as an aphorist—“Never paint graffiti in a town where they still point at aeroplanes”; “Only when the last tree has been cut down and the last river has dried up will man realize that reciting red Indian proverbs makes you sound like a fucking muppet“—seem to inspire all who cross his path. Banksy has convinced nearly everyone who has ever met him that promulgating his image would amount to an unconscionable act of soul robbery.

I think Banksy is the perfect example that art – and it is art – is all about concept. Nail the concept and you can worry about execution later. This follows that medium a lot of his work is published on, ie. walls, streamlines the process. It has to be fast and it has to be visible – and that immediately eliminates a lot of the bullshit. Here’s a flickr group for further reflection. I love the guy, and love his stuff, and love that people are falling over themselves to pay for it. Quality.

Posted in Artrage on Wednesday May 16, 2007. Shoutouts [1].

This may be the greatest piece of street-art ever created. I wonder if they pasted it up incrementally?

Posted in Artrage on Monday April 30, 2007. Shoutouts.