In collaged pieces, Leah’s photography is often non-specific and enlarged to highlight texture. Aesthetically, I love the diffused nature of her mark-making and photos, which speaks to the larger scope of her work. She writes:

The intention of my work is to visually record the subtleties in everyday life that we do not always notice or appreciate. For example, the idea of pausing and enjoying a moment that is right there in front of our eyes, such as a shadow on a wall, a piece of paper in the wind, or a reflection in a window. Through capturing details of things that may seem insignificant in our daily lives, the fragmented beauty of the subject is brought to the forefront and chaos is pushed back. Ultimately, the raw purity and fragility of the image is unravelled.

All images via her website/Tumblr.

It seems that most times I visit New York City, I find myself on the lower west side of the city, which is coincidentally near the High Line, an elevated linear park that is a redeveloped former elevated freight railroad. I have visited the park several times, and each time enjoyed myself. The park boasts wonderful views of the city, fun food, and a landscaping job that feels like an oasis from the industrial landscape. Farrar, Straus & Giroux publishers sent me a copy of High Line: The Inside Story of New York City’s Park in the Sky to read. It was co-written by the guys that started High Line, Joshua David and Robert Hammond. In 1999, they formed Friends of the High Line, whose initial intent was to save the railroad from total destruction. But, once the potential of the space was realized, High Line planning slowly got underway.

The actual book (which features a nice proportion of text to color photos) has been designed by Pentagram, and the look and feel of High Line is rich one. The photographs are vibrant and capture all aspects of the park, from construction to implemention to the park in action. I was excited to see that there were some night shots included, which seems to transform High Line, and one that I had not seen before.

I sort of fell into the reading of the book. Conversational and causal in tone, it recounts the development of High Line from Joshua David and Robert Hammond and its struggles as the two, having no former experience with urban planning, attempted to get this project off the ground. The story alternates between Joshua and Robert’s voice, and while reading I felt like I was meandering through the park. The writing flows easily, and is interesting if you enjoy urban planning and learning about how a grass roots project turned into something so successful. It’s not only informative, but an inspirational book to read.

Some of the spreads that I enjoyed. Like I mentioned before, I loved the color and feel of the book:

Many thanks to Rebecca for sharing the beautiful Chinese shadow puppets today!

Check out what I had to say about the photography of Bernd and Hilla Becher over on Big Things!

It wasn’t immediate that I realized these were partially photographs. Noper does an excellent job of integrating his fantasy into the reality of the city. The result is an elegant and almost melancholy feel. Despite how these characters are larger than life, they still feel sort of small.

All images via his website. Check out the other work he’s done. It also includes animations!

Ana incorporates photography into her work, and collages faces of models with original drawing and painting. I enjoy her images where she pairs these photographs with a mash-up of colors and textures. She’s pairing the flawless (or intent to look flawless) with something that has a heavy hand to it, made purely from a human being. It’s raw emotion juxtaposed with implied emotion.

A big fan of dioramas, I also love the 3D scenes that are mounted onto gallery walls. Again appropriating photographs, these are set up like rooms in a doll house. I feel like these are paper dolls inhabiting a tangible doll’s house. It’s slightly unnatural, but really works in a setting up a scene that feels a bit amiss.

All images via her website.

Maurizio uses embroidery like a shroud over memories, breathing in new life and a renewed sense of color to old, sepia-toned photographs. He works both with and against these found images. Sometimes, he will use the contours of faces and hair to add embellishment. Other times, they react to the photography — becoming a whole other entity. They create growths or masks, and give a very ritualistic and ceremonial sense to images from a very obvious other time.

All images via TrendLand

I say this is a visit rather than a studio visit because I met with Lesser in a park in Baltimore. We chatted about his creative ventures, as well as living in city and Alan Watts.

My Drawing Sort of Looks Like You is a 49-page book full of poetry, which are a combination of observation and surrealism — it’s a constant push and pull. Just when you think Lesser is shaping his poems to say something profound or be totally serious, he pulls it back with a bit of humor, making the poems lighter. This grounds his poems nicely — they were written during a time when Lesser had just returned back from touring with his music and was completely broke with no real place to live. His poetry reflects a somewhat transient existence, anchored in the experience of living in a city, but never stopping to dream about the future. One of my favorite poems in his book:

Pumpernickel

Today I thought of the beginning to a movie
in which a women dies ashes scattered
in Central Pacific
where they are eaten by whales and
all swimming things eating little dust
you find the secret to the Universe
is you end up in downer place if fed
to a whale or dark, foreboding ocean
and then damn, how do you get that news
down to the living
here thinking of pumpernickel?
Haven’t come up with middle or end
but maybe give it a happy ending
to boost revenue
A Jonas brother could play a ghost
or spirit of black comedian
trapped in a dog body

Lesser attended art school and has formal training. Two series that I love are his Portraits, and the fairly recent Elephant Accident. Both require a gathering of materials assembled then photographed. Portraits are a nod to ceremonial head pieces such as tribal masks of Bali. Like his poetry, there is a push and pull of both reverence and exploration, mixed with his own interpretation — one that uses ordinary materials like clown noses and eye patches that comments on the modern day.

You can buy his book of poetry (for only $5!) here, which I’d highly recommend. All images via his website.

Eileen Myles sets the tone for the issue by exploring the history of still lifes (and noting just how wrong it seems to say “lifes”). She talks in an authoritative tone, and poses questions but doesn’t ask them. It’s more of a meditation on still lifes, which is fitting based upon the long, rich history of them. It seems better to reflect on the past and relate it to the future rather than trying to carve a completely new interpretation on the genre.

Overall, I found the photography both amusing and off-putting, which I am sure was part of the intent. Each photograph references a way of seeing. Through the curating of Jerry Hsu and Jesse Pearson, we are presented with photographers that have a tie to counter-culture and see excess. Sometimes they celebrate excess, while other times pointing out the ridiculousness of it all. I enjoy where this issue takes the idea of still life. From the roots, thee things were a memory, often of brighter times. They’ve sense morphed into something larger — heavier in meaning, arguably more effective in their message. Arrangement and our object-driven culture will never go tired of the photographs presented in this issue.

All images via the Vice website. From top to bottom, in order: Slava Mogutin // Jaime Lee Curtis Taete // Vito Fun // Sandy Skoglund // Les Krims

The landscapes that Liesl has created are of stark contrast to her other work. They are also the pieces that I enjoy the most. I love the combination of shape design and the implication of texture in each shape laid on the paper. The abstraction in each piece are sums of a wonderful whole and creates a cohesive image.

Aside from her artwork, Liesl is also in a band called Lion Park. Check them out if you are looking for some new tunes.

All images via her website. You can buy her prints on Etsy as well!

I think it’s my affinity for toys that attracts me to Walter and Paloma’s work. Each scene they’ve created is like looking into a diorama. They’ve have set up the mood with backdrops that feel like each environment is in its own world. The characters and sets feel very playful, and it’s like make believe.

Each scene seems like a fairy tale, with the feeling that there is a tragedy around the corner. Some of their work includes execution, a couple dancing in a grave yard, a group of people running towards the end of a cliff. It’s dark, yet so beautifully set up and photographed at the same time.

All images via their website.