War 19:17

Beach Birds 22:12

Tum-tum-tum 21:59

Stella 10:50

Bandshell (Model, 1999)
Frank Stella

Cheek 10:38

Choco Jesus 15:31

Bjork, Deus, 1988 07:36

Bacon 13:02

Mannequins 19:17

Mannequins reliés (2006)

Thomas Hirschhorn

Stop 00:25

It's all right 19:14

Anywhere 18:40

It could be anywhere (2008)

Adrian Ghenie

Tunnels 21:58

Tunnels on the levee (1983)
Ursula von Rydingsvard

Last thoughts on Woody Guthrie 20:42

When yer head gets twisted and yer mind grows numb
When you think you're too old, too young, too smart or too dumb
When yer laggin' behind an' losin' yer pace
In a slow-motion crawl of life's busy race
No matter what yer doing if you start givin' up
If the wine don't come to the top of yer cup
If the wind's got you sideways with with one hand holdin' on
And the other starts slipping and the feeling is gone
And yer train engine fire needs a new spark to catch it
And the wood's easy findin' but yer lazy to fetch it
And yer sidewalk starts curlin' and the street gets too long
And you start walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins from yer pony are slippin'
And yer rope is a-slidin' 'cause yer hands are a-drippin'
And yer sun-decked desert and evergreen valleys
Turn to broken down slums and trash-can alleys
And yer sky cries water and yer drain pipe's a-pourin'
And the lightnin's a-flashing and the thunder's a-crashin'
And the windows are rattlin' and breakin' and the roof tops a-shakin'
And yer whole world's a-slammin' and bangin'
And yer minutes of sun turn to hours of storm
And to yourself you sometimes say
"I never knew it was gonna be this way
Why didn't they tell me the day I was born"
And you start gettin' chills and yer jumping from sweat
And you're lookin' for somethin' you ain't quite found yet
And yer knee-deep in the dark water with yer hands in the air
And the whole world's a-watchin' with a window peek stare
And yer good gal leaves and she's long gone a-flying
And yer heart feels sick like fish when they're fryin'
And yer jackhammer falls from yer hand to yer feet
And you need it badly but it lays on the street
And yer bell's bangin' loudly but you can't hear its beat
And you think yer ears might a been hurt
Or yer eyes've turned filthy from the sight-blindin' dirt
And you figured you failed in yesterdays rush
When you were faked out an' fooled white facing a four flush
And all the time you were holdin' three queens
And it's makin you mad, it's makin' you mean
Like in the middle of Life magazine
Bouncin' around a pinball machine
And there's something on yer mind you wanna be saying
That somebody someplace oughta be hearin'
But it's trapped on yer tongue and sealed in yer head
And it bothers you badly when your layin' in bed
And no matter how you try you just can't say it
And yer scared to yer soul you just might forget it
And yer eyes get swimmy from the tears in yer head
And yer pillows of feathers turn to blankets of lead
And the lion's mouth opens and yer staring at his teeth
And his jaws start closin with you underneath
And yer flat on your belly with yer hands tied behind
And you wish you'd never taken that last detour sign
And you say to yourself just what am I doin'
On this road I'm walkin', on this trail I'm turnin'
On this curve I'm hanging
On this pathway I'm strolling, in the space I'm taking
In this air I'm inhaling
Am I mixed up too much, am I mixed up too hard
Why am I walking, where am I running
What am I saying, what am I knowing
On this guitar I'm playing, on this banjo I'm frailin'
On this mandolin I'm strummin', in the song I'm singin'
In the tune I'm hummin', in the words I'm writin'
In the words that I'm thinkin'
In this ocean of hours I'm all the time drinkin'
Who am I helping, what am I breaking
What am I giving, what am I taking
But you try with your whole soul best
Never to think these thoughts and never to let
Them kind of thoughts gain ground
Or make yer heart pound
But then again you know why they're around
Just waiting for a chance to slip and drop down
"Cause sometimes you hear'em when the night times comes creeping
And you fear that they might catch you a-sleeping
And you jump from yer bed, from yer last chapter of dreamin'
And you can't remember for the best of yer thinking
If that was you in the dream that was screaming
And you know that it's something special you're needin'
And you know that there's no drug that'll do for the healin'
And no liquor in the land to stop yer brain from bleeding
And you need something special
Yeah, you need something special all right
You need a fast flyin' train on a tornado track
To shoot you someplace and shoot you back
You need a cyclone wind on a stream engine howler
That's been banging and booming and blowing forever
That knows yer troubles a hundred times over
You need a Greyhound bus that don't bar no race
That won't laugh at yer looks
Your voice or your face
And by any number of bets in the book
Will be rollin' long after the bubblegum craze
You need something to open up a new door
To show you something you seen before
But overlooked a hundred times or more
You need something to open your eyes
You need something to make it known
That it's you and no one else that owns
That spot that yer standing, that space that you're sitting
That the world ain't got you beat
That it ain't got you licked
It can't get you crazy no matter how many
Times you might get kicked
You need something special all right
You need something special to give you hope
But hope's just a word
That maybe you said or maybe you heard
On some windy corner 'round a wide-angled curve

But that's what you need man, and you need it bad
And yer trouble is you know it too good
"Cause you look an' you start getting the chills

"Cause you can't find it on a dollar bill
And it ain't on Macy's window sill
And it ain't on no rich kid's road map
And it ain't in no fat kid's fraternity house
And it ain't made in no Hollywood wheat germ
And it ain't on that dimlit stage
With that half-wit comedian on it
Ranting and raving and taking yer money
And you thinks it's funny
No you can't find it in no night club or no yacht club
And it ain't in the seats of a supper club
And sure as hell you're bound to tell
That no matter how hard you rub
You just ain't a-gonna find it on yer ticket stub
No, and it ain't in the rumors people're tellin' you
And it ain't in the pimple-lotion people are sellin' you
And it ain't in no cardboard-box house
Or down any movie star's blouse
And you can't find it on the golf course
And Uncle Remus can't tell you and neither can Santa Claus
And it ain't in the cream puff hair-do or cotton candy clothes
And it ain't in the dime store dummies or bubblegum goons
And it ain't in the marshmallow noises of the chocolate cake voices
That come knockin' and tappin' in Christmas wrappin'
Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin
Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow
Look at my skin laugh, look at my skin cry
When you can't even sense if they got any insides
These people so pretty in their ribbons and bows
No you'll not now or no other day
Find it on the doorsteps made out-a paper mache¥
And inside it the people made of molasses
That every other day buy a new pair of sunglasses
And it ain't in the fifty-star generals and flipped-out phonies
Who'd turn yuh in for a tenth of a penny
Who breathe and burp and bend and crack
And before you can count from one to ten
Do it all over again but this time behind yer back
My friend
The ones that wheel and deal and whirl and twirl
And play games with each other in their sand-box world
And you can't find it either in the no-talent fools
That run around gallant
And make all rules for the ones that got talent
And it ain't in the ones that ain't got any talent but think they do
And think they're foolin' you
The ones who jump on the wagon
Just for a while 'cause they know it's in style
To get their kicks, get out of it quick
And make all kinds of money and chicks
And you yell to yourself and you throw down yer hat
Sayin', "Christ do I gotta be like that
Ain't there no one here that knows where I'm at
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel
Good God Almighty
THAT STUFF AIN'T REAL"

No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race
You can't hear yer name, you can't see yer face
You gotta look some other place
And where do you look for this hope that yer seekin'
Where do you look for this lamp that's a-burnin'
Where do you look for this oil well gushin'
Where do you look for this candle that's glowin'
Where do you look for this hope that you know is there
And out there somewhere
And your feet can only walk down two kinds of roads
Your eyes can only look through two kinds of windows
Your nose can only smell two kinds of hallways
You can touch and twist
And turn two kinds of doorknobs
You can either go to the church of your choice
Or you can go to Brooklyn State Hospital
You'll find God in the church of your choice
You'll find Woody Guthrie in Brooklyn State Hospital

And though it's only my opinion
I may be right or wrong
You'll find them both
In the Grand Canyon
At sundown

[Bob Dylan]

Piccadilly Circus 22:15

Helmut by June 14:21

Kommen und Naked 20:23

Sie kommen Naked (1981)

Helmut Newton

Ich fühl' mich gut! 17:01

We 13:23

Julinha say: 20:54

"Today, I was thinking about the expression 'revenge is a dish best served cold. Then I considered that 'revenge is sweet'. I've come to the conclusion that revenge is ice cream."

Gucci 11:55

Ahhhh 18:15

A Completed Portrait of Picasso 18:55

If I told him would he like it. Would he like it if I told him.
Would he like it would Napoleon would Napoleon would would he like it.
If Napoleon if I told him if I told him if Napoleon. Would he like it if I told him if I told him if Napoleon. Would he like it if Napoleon if
Napoleon if I told him. If I told him if Napoleon if Napoleon if I told him. If I told him would he like it would he like it if I told him.
Now.
Not now.
And now.
Now.
Exactly as as kings.
Feeling full for it.
Exactitude as kings.
So to beseech you as full as for it.
Exactly or as kings.
Shutters shut and open so do queens. Shutters shut and shutters and so shutters shut and shutters and so and so shutters and so shutters shut
and so shutters shut and shutters and so. And so shutters shut and so and also. And also and so and so and also.
Exact resemblance to exact resemblance the exact resemblance as exact as a resemblance, exactly as resembling, exactly resembling, exactly
in resemblance exactly a resemblance, exactly and resemblance. For this is so. Because.
Now actively repeat at all, now actively repeat at all, now actively repeat at all.
Have hold and hear, actively repeat at all.
I judge judge.
As a resemblance to him.
Who comes first. Napoleon the first.
Who comes too coming coming too, who goes there, as they go they share, who shares all, all is as all as as yet or as yet.
Now to date now to date. Now and now and date and the date.
Who came first Napoleon at first. Who came first Napoleon the first. Who came first, Napoleon first.
Presently.
Exactly as they do.
First exactly.
Exactly as they do too.
First exactly.
And first exactly.
Exactly as they do.
And first exactly and exactly.
And do they do.
At first exactly and first exactly and do they do.
The first exactly.
At first exactly.
First as exactly.
At first as exactly.
Presently.
As presently.
As as presently.
He he he he and he and he and and he and he and he and and as and as he and as he and he. He is and as he is, and as he is and he is, he is
and as he and he and as he is and he and he and and he and he.
Can curls rob can curls quote, quotable.
As presently.
As exactitude.
As trains.
Has trains.
Has trains.
As trains.
As trains.
Presently.
Proportions.
Presently.
As proportions as presently.
Father and farther.
Was the king or room.
Farther and whether.
Was there was there was there what was there was there what was there was there there was there.
Whether and in there.
As even say so.
One.
I land.
Two.
I land.
Three.
The land.
Three.
The land.
Two.
I land.
Two.
I land.
One.
I land.
Two.
I land.
As a so.
They cannot.
A note.
They cannot.
A float.
They cannot.
They dote.
They cannot.
They as denote.
Miracles play.
Play fairly.
Play fairly well.
A well.
As well.
As or as presently.
Let me recite what history teaches. History teaches.

[Gertrude Stein]

Quase Aurora 18:30

"... aquelas estranhas leituras ou o fato de abrir o espírito ao conteúdo delas, talvez tenham levado a me ocupar de um instigante objeto : uma garrafa de Bacará posta em minha mesa de trabalho.
Por alguma razão tinha ali deixado e me apegara a ela, embora estranha a meu gosto. Pus-me a “decorá-la” inadvertidamente, e de modo bizarro. Um troço de cristal, fragmentos de ímã, uma correntinha, um fio de cabelo deixado ao léu e mesmo um amálgama terroso que sequer suspeito de onde tirei... compunham nela um talismã.
Um certo dia estando sentado prestes a urinar, decidi como que involuntariamente a fazê-lo ali mesmo, surpreendendo-me com o inusitado...eis que o objeto tomava ares de acabado, se configurando como uma lamparina. Refletindo luz agradável de tom amarelado. Por lá ficou e assim me habituei a sua presença.
- Tudo que narrei aconteceu de um modo completamente estranho, involuntário, inconsciente mesmo, diria.
À visão da peça não me lembrava de como teria ido parar ali, menos ainda porque fora composta daquele modo enigmático, com aquele algo de talismã. Mas era “boa companheira” quando me dispunha a desenhar estava ali, e sua contemplação me agradava. Não raras vezes me surpreendi olhando o vazio embora visasse o “troféu-talismã” .
Se assim digo é porque nele depositava uma quantidade de fonte de inspiração. Não que o usasse como modelo para meus desenhos mas na contemplação dele via outras imagens como que subjacentes a ele, vapores ou sombras de naturezas totalmente diversas.
Embora não soubesse o que havia preparado, tinha a nítida impressão de que fora feito através de mim, não por mim, algo como psicografado...talvez por isso me atraía, produzia efeitos colaterais, remetendo a projeções...
- Minha disposição ao desenho, no entanto, diminuíra.
Sou um homem de disciplina e passava o expediente à mesa.
Embora com a mente carregada de imagens, o papel continuava em branco. Devaneios, olhar perdido de brilhos e reflexos provocados pela lamparina psicografada. Vagas lembranças e imagens fugazes representavam o fim do expediente. Foi a reincidência deste fato que fez valer a hipótese de que aquela não era uma lamparina talismã, mas que involuntariamente havia composto e estava diante de um phanoscópio de projeção, que a mim fora ditado.
Bons demônios da intensa luz de outono!
Tendo pousado o olhar no phanoscópio, ocorreu-me estancar a luz ofuscante com papel úmido que na mesa, esperava a aquarela.
Não sei bem por quanto tempo mantive este anteparo que gotejava em minhas mãos. Fiquei surpreso ao colocar a folha já seca à mesa e nela constatar uma nítida impressa, embora fugaz, projeção.
Micro partículas de cristal haviam sido filtradas, se depositando ordenadamente a formar uma imagem. Límpida cena, minuciosa paisagem, quase aurora revelada em papel.
- O que supunha ser um phanoscópio de projeção, se convertera no que denominei “phanógrapho policromático de deposição”.
O que ocorrera inexplicavelmente, veio a ocorrer outras vezes.
Me dediquei a recompor do mesmo modo que a primeira, outras “lamparinas” , como que ditadas a mim e com as quais pude revelar esta série de “phanografias cromáticas de deposição”.
São elas o conteúdo deste volume.

* Dei a estas séries sugestivos nomes pelo mesmo método em que me foram, pouco a pouco, reveladas."

[Texto escrito por Tunga para sua exposição Quase Aurora (2009) na galeria Millan. A obra Sem título (2005) faz parte da individual.]

Lisa & Baker Street 11:23

Capítulos 04:20

Sobre multidões 11:09

Segundo a arte pop, o mundo caminha para a uniformidade. Em sua obra, o americano Allan McCollum aponta para as diferenças, indo contra essa visão

 Por Bruno Moreschi
publicado na revista BRAVO! (10/09)
crédito da imagem: courtesia da Luciana Britto Galeria

Em 1967, numa entrevista ao jornal The New York Times, o artista americano Tom Wesselmann resumiu uma das grandes crenças da arte pop: "As pessoas ficaram iguais a sardinhas da mesma lata". Tanto nas pinturas de homens sem olhos e bocas de Wesselmann quanto nas pilhas de embalagens de sabão em pó de Andy Warhol, o mundo interpretado pelo pop aparece quase sempre numa enrascada, em que a individualidade dá lugar a um cenário massificado. Essa ideia um tanto pessimista continua bem forte no imaginário coletivo. E, nesse contexto, a primeira retrospectiva no Brasil do americano Allan McCollum pode ser vista como um átimo de esperança.

As sete obras expostas na galeria Luciana Brito, em São Paulo, vão contra o pensamento vigente de que nos tornamos seres pasteurizados. McCollum costuma reunir em uma única série dezenas, centenas e até milhares de objetos, que num primeiro olhar parecem idênticos. É o caso de Glossies, um conjunto de 65 pequenas folhas pintadas com aquarelas negras de formato retangular e dispostas sobre uma mesa de madeira no centro da galeria. As pinturas são muito parecidas, mas mínimos detalhes em suas texturas as tornam indiscutivelmente únicas.

Outro destaque da individual, Plaster Surrogates, também questiona a uniformidade aparente. Dispostos nas paredes brancas do andar térreo da galeria, 70 trabalhos diferenciam-se apenas pelos contornos de seus desenhos, ora estreitos, ora mais largos. É como se McCollum estivesse a todo instante nos dizendo: existem sempre singularidades, mesmo neste mundo aparentemente tão igual. O artista foi um dos destaques da Bienal de São Paulo do ano passado. Na época, apresentou 1.800 desenhos, todos distintos, mas derivados de combinações entre um arco de 90 graus e uma linha reta. A obra, intitulada Drawings, está na mostra em uma versão menor, com 30 peças.

Um detalhe revela muito sobre a arte de McCollum. Como se vê nas placas informativas que acompanham os trabalhos, eles possuem uma data de início de feitura, mas quase nunca uma de finalização. A ausência sugere que o artista esteja em um extenso processo criativo. Nada está de fato terminado. As obras de McCollum, muitas vezes monocromáticas, negras, são como indivíduos de uma mesma espécie. Integrantes de uma multidão que, como cada um de nós, lutam para se diferenciar.

Toda a vida 22:46

"[Os homens] têm um instinto secreto, que os leva a procurar divertimentos e ocupações exteriores, nascido do ressentimento de suas contínuas misérias; e têm outro instinto secreto, resto da grandeza de nossa primeira natureza, que os faz conhecer que a felicidade só está, de fato, no repouso, e não no tumulto; e desses dois instintos contrários, forma-se neles um projeto confuso, que se esconde de sua vista, no fundo de sua alma. (...) E assim se passa toda a vida."

Pascal, em Pensées.
Imagem: Ebe (2005), tela em acrílico e óleo de Tomma Abts.

1 milhão de frames por segundo 12:47

Why can... 12:45