Paul Watson’s posts tagged “Art”

There are many reasons to be skeptical about big websites that encourage artists to use their services. But the implicit deal, don’t create anything too suggestive really does stink.

The purpose of school is not to teach children kindness, or the love of animals or how to play together nicely. The purpose of school is to teach children how to make money (almost always for somebody else).

Thanks for the mention, Joe!

Generative AI is like the ultimate idea guy’s idea! Imagine… if all they needed to create a business, software or art was their great idea, and a computer. No need to engage (or pay) any of those annoying makers who keep talking about limitations, scope, standards, artistic integrity etc. etc.

No matter where you are -- treading grounds of knowledge decades old, or breaking new ground -- you are on a journey of learning. What is known to others is new to you. In this feeling, I find delight.

This resonates strongly with me, as was probably apparent from my answer to the “why do you write online?” topic we were all discussing at last night’s HWC. My website exists primarily for my artwork. I may write something about this in the next few days.

New blog post: Life-Drawing, February 2024

Ironically the first people who'll be made redundant from AI image generation are those who are currently feeding in prompts to create AI images and calling themselves artists. They're currently giving all the data to the AI with which it will replace them.

I really should have planned some drawing for this weekend, but I completely failed. However I do have a life-model booked for the weekend after, so it’s not all failure.

These portraits from the dark postwar years have been so reworked that the paper is often gouged through. The results feel as war-damaged as his family – yet still thrillingly alive

Frank Auerbach: The Charcoal Heads is at The Courtauld Institute, London, until 27 May

Over the past decade, increasing evidence suggests artistic expression emerged much earlier in human evolution than scientists once thought, and it's reshaping our understanding of the cognitive abilities of archaic humans, such as Neanderthals and earlier hominins. For instance, there's archaeological evidence that Neanderthals made abstract designs on cave walls long before Homo sapiens arrived in Europe and may have made pendants from eagle talons up to 130,000 years ago.

A multifaceted artist, Michaela Ďurišová’s artistic odyssey commenced in a diverse realm of disciplines, from music and set design to crafting exquisite jewellery. Her foray into photography was serendipitous, ignited by her need to capture her jewellery creations and share them with the world. Yet, her path took an unexpected turn when a single photoshoot with her mother altered the course of her career.

Bookplates from the collection of Richard Sica

Samuel Araya is an artist living in the poison heart of South America, his work has appeared in a variety of media, from videogames, t-shirts, posters, records, to cards and books, including five editions of the prestigious "Spectrum: The Best In Contemporary Fantastic Art" annual. Currently also dedicates time to his career as a gallery artist, with an important number of international shows already gracing his curriculum.

The sculptures of Ghyslaine and Sylvain Staelens are not afraid of the twilight or the light. Like their creators, they have the experience of both. They oscillate between haze, chiaroscuro and clarity with impunity. They are expressionist and yet they elegantly support any critical gaze. They're mystic, they're not eccentric. They are created consciously to go and populate a mysterious forest. Under a grey sun, they blend with the grains of dust, honey-coloured light and deaf beardage of old trees. They can be impetuous, they can be meditative, they're always enigmatic.

Throughout my practice small acts of engagement respond to the landscape using a variety of strategies, such as making and building using found materials, creating pools of light on the forest floor, using craft materials such as paint and wool, introducing starscapes taken by the Hubble Telescope or glittering light from the surface of the sea.

The final images are the culmination of these interventions. The forest becomes a studio, forming a backdrop to contextualise the work, so that each piece draws on its location; a golden tree introduced into a thicket shimmers in the darkness, painted paths snake through the undergrowth, and strands of wool are woven between trees mirroring colours and formal elements within the space.

Blót is the term for “sacrifice” in Norse paganism. A blót could be dedicated to any of the Norse gods, the spirits of the land, and to ancestors.

austin osman spare; chaos magic; art; automatic drawing; zos-kia cultus; esoterica

In the photographic series that Vera Lehndorff designed in collaboration with Holger Trülzsch, the aesthetic figure Veruschka refuses to be a projection of beauty’s ideals, yet in these portraits she retains her completely individual aura. Diffused in bolts of energy, in bizarre particle streams, and in psychedelic plays of color that reflect London of the 1960s, Veruschka transcends her body and delves into a world that translates the glamour of an icon into a sensually experiential image.

A tradition of eeriness runs through British art of the 20th and 21st centuries. It runs, though, not as an overground river might – with a traceable and continuous surface route – but rather as groundwater runs; surging out here and there, springing up at times of heavy weather. For this eerie art has often emerged at or after times of crisis, martial or fiscal: during the economic collapses of the 1970s and 2000s, or in the years around and during the Second World War. There is no mystery to this pattern. The eerie represents a counter-narrative to the recognizable traditions of the picturesque and the pastoral in British place-art. Where the pastoral encodes order and comfort, the eerie registers dissent and unease. It is drawn to what Christopher Neve memorably called “unquiet landscapes,” and it is born of unquiet times.