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This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard] This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 
Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 
[Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard]

    This is my favourite room in Villa Ocupada, Nantes. The room was created by Ever, an artist from Buenos Aires. 

    Villa Ocupada is part of Le voyage à Nantes. They’ve asked a bunch of mural artists to transform a local administration building that is due to be taken down in 2015. They’ve dressed it up from top to bottom and the result is fantastic. 

    [Some of the photos — the best ones — are © David Gallard]

    Mother #1 by Yunsung Jang, 2013 (© Yunsung Jang)
One of the two was shortlisted for The PB Portrait Award 2014 @ NPG

The portrait is of the artist’s mother. Yunsung Jang says he wanted to record not justher physical likeness, but the depth of their relationship, including ‘The complexities of devotion, pity, guilt, and gratefulness that a son feels toward his mother.’
Mother #1 by Yunsung Jang, 2013 (© Yunsung Jang)
One of the two was shortlisted for The PB Portrait Award 2014 @ NPG

The portrait is of the artist’s mother. Yunsung Jang says he wanted to record not justher physical likeness, but the depth of their relationship, including ‘The complexities of devotion, pity, guilt, and gratefulness that a son feels toward his mother.’

      Mother #1 by Yunsung Jang, 2013 
      (© Yunsung Jang)

      One of the two was shortlisted for The PB Portrait Award 2014 @ NPG

      The portrait is of the artist’s mother. Yunsung Jang says he wanted to record not justher physical likeness, but the depth of their relationship, including ‘The complexities of devotion, pity, guilt, and gratefulness that a son feels toward his mother.’

      Fergus by Paul Benney, 2014
      (© Paul Benney)

      From the BP Portrait Award 2014 @ NPG

      The portrait is of the chef Fergus Henderson, one of the founders of St. John restaurant, Smithfield. Henderson is known for his concept of ‘nose to tail eating’ and has recently won a Lifetime Achievement Award from the World’s 50 Best Restaurants Academy.

      Could it be the very same pig I was served when I ate there? 

      Portrait of Jean Yves, a man looking like Vincent Van Gogh by Gauthier Hubert(© Gauthier Hubert)
From the BP Portrait Award 2014 @ NPG

Gauthier Hubert trained at the École nationale supérieure des Arts visuels (ENSAV) La Cambre, Brussels. His work has been seen in group exhibitions in Belgium, France and Iceland and in solo exhibitions in Antwerp, Ghent and Brussels.
The portrait is of Jean Yves, a man the artist had met on a number of occasions, and decided to paint as he reminded him of Vincent Van Gogh. He used some of the colours found in Van Gogh’s paintings to emphasise the visual link between the two.

In the flesh, that blue is insane. Stare at it too long and you’ll go blind.

      Portrait of Jean Yves, a man looking like Vincent Van Gogh by Gauthier Hubert
      (© Gauthier Hubert)

      From the BP Portrait Award 2014 @ NPG

      Gauthier Hubert trained at the École nationale supérieure des Arts visuels (ENSAV) La Cambre, Brussels. His work has been seen in group exhibitions in Belgium, France and Iceland and in solo exhibitions in Antwerp, Ghent and Brussels.

      The portrait is of Jean Yves, a man the artist had met on a number of occasions, and decided to paint as he reminded him of Vincent Van Gogh. He used some of the colours found in Van Gogh’s paintings to emphasise the visual link between the two.

      In the flesh, that blue is insane. Stare at it too long and you’ll go blind.

      Man with a Plaid Blanket by Thomas Ganter (© Thomas Ganter)

      First Prize Winner of the BP Portrait Award 2014 @ NPG

      The portrait is of Karel, who lives on the streets in Ganter’s neighborhood. Ganter asked Karel to help recreate a moment when the artist had noticed the similarities of clothing and pose between the subjects of old master paintings and individuals wrapped in blankets living on the streets.

      Ganter says: “By portraying a homeless man in a way only nobility or saints used to be portrayed, I tried to emphasize that everyone deserves respectful treatment, attention, and care.”

      All the judges were struck by the intensity of the sitter’s gaze and how every texture and surface is rendered in intricate detail, from the icon-like gold chain fence to the rose in the crumpled paper cup.

      The First Prize winning portrait is rarely the one that stands out for me, but this year, man oh man, do we have a clear winner. Hands down. Ganter’s portrait is sucking all the colours from the room. I couldn’t keep my eyes off the gold background, Karel’s face, the blanket, the gold, the face, the blanket, the gold, the face, the blanket, the gold, the face…

      Henri Matisse, Jazz, 1947

Jazz (1947) is an artist’s book of 250 prints for the folded book version and 100 impressions for the suite, which contains the unfolded pochoirs without the text, based on paper cutouts by Henri Matisse. Tériade, a noted 20th century art publisher, arranged to have Matisse’s cutouts rendered as pochoir (stencil) prints.

“Dessiner avec des ciseaux: découper à vif dans la couleur me rappelle la taille directe des sculpteurs. Ce livre a été conçu dans cet esprit…. De contes populaires ou de voyage, j’ai fait ces pages d’écriture pour apaiser les réactions simultanées." — Henri Matisse Henri Matisse, Jazz, 1947

Jazz (1947) is an artist’s book of 250 prints for the folded book version and 100 impressions for the suite, which contains the unfolded pochoirs without the text, based on paper cutouts by Henri Matisse. Tériade, a noted 20th century art publisher, arranged to have Matisse’s cutouts rendered as pochoir (stencil) prints.

“Dessiner avec des ciseaux: découper à vif dans la couleur me rappelle la taille directe des sculpteurs. Ce livre a été conçu dans cet esprit…. De contes populaires ou de voyage, j’ai fait ces pages d’écriture pour apaiser les réactions simultanées." — Henri Matisse Henri Matisse, Jazz, 1947

Jazz (1947) is an artist’s book of 250 prints for the folded book version and 100 impressions for the suite, which contains the unfolded pochoirs without the text, based on paper cutouts by Henri Matisse. Tériade, a noted 20th century art publisher, arranged to have Matisse’s cutouts rendered as pochoir (stencil) prints.

“Dessiner avec des ciseaux: découper à vif dans la couleur me rappelle la taille directe des sculpteurs. Ce livre a été conçu dans cet esprit…. De contes populaires ou de voyage, j’ai fait ces pages d’écriture pour apaiser les réactions simultanées." — Henri Matisse Henri Matisse, Jazz, 1947

Jazz (1947) is an artist’s book of 250 prints for the folded book version and 100 impressions for the suite, which contains the unfolded pochoirs without the text, based on paper cutouts by Henri Matisse. Tériade, a noted 20th century art publisher, arranged to have Matisse’s cutouts rendered as pochoir (stencil) prints.

“Dessiner avec des ciseaux: découper à vif dans la couleur me rappelle la taille directe des sculpteurs. Ce livre a été conçu dans cet esprit…. De contes populaires ou de voyage, j’ai fait ces pages d’écriture pour apaiser les réactions simultanées." — Henri Matisse

        Henri Matisse, Jazz, 1947

        Jazz (1947) is an artist’s book of 250 prints for the folded book version and 100 impressions for the suite, which contains the unfolded pochoirs without the text, based on paper cutouts by Henri Matisse. Tériade, a noted 20th century art publisher, arranged to have Matisse’s cutouts rendered as pochoir (stencil) prints.

        Dessiner avec des ciseaux: découper à vif dans la couleur me rappelle la taille directe des sculpteurs. Ce livre a été conçu dans cet esprit…. De contes populaires ou de voyage, j’ai fait ces pages d’écriture pour apaiser les réactions simultanées." — Henri Matisse

        Henri Matisse: The Cut-Outs @ Tate Modern, London

In his late sixties, when ill health first prevented Matisse from painting, he began to cut into painted paper with scissors to make drafts for a number of commissions. In time, Matisse chose cut-outs over painting: he had invented a new medium. From snowflowers to dancers, circus scenes and a famous snail, the exhibition showcases a dazzling array of 120 works made between 1936 and 1954. Bold, exuberant and often large in scale, the cut-outs have an engaging simplicity coupled with incredible creative sophistication.

Joyful and magical exhibition, me thinks. I urge you to go. But brace yourself for an explosion of colours… Maybe even wear sunglasses? You’ll look like an obnoxious ass but that might very well be the smart choice to make, if you ask me.
Sidenote: If you own little people and want to introduce them to fine art without scarring them for life, that’s definitely the exhibition for you — they’re going to love it (or at least, not be bored out of their minds by it). I remember when I was little and my mother decided that it was time for my sister and me to see some art stuff. She woke up one morning in a panic, grabbed us by the hand, dragged us to the Louvres and, while we were firmly in her grip (handcuffs might have been involved), she made us run through every single fucking room of the museum, having us repeat the same motions over and over again: look right look left look up (the ceiling, where the naked cherubs live), next room, look right look left look up, next room, look right look left look up, and so on and so forth… We did that for two consecutive days (oh my god, Le Louvres is fucking gigantic). And yet, we still managed to miss both the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Oh mum, Oh sweet clueless mum, thanks for trying, I guess? Henri Matisse: The Cut-Outs @ Tate Modern, London

In his late sixties, when ill health first prevented Matisse from painting, he began to cut into painted paper with scissors to make drafts for a number of commissions. In time, Matisse chose cut-outs over painting: he had invented a new medium. From snowflowers to dancers, circus scenes and a famous snail, the exhibition showcases a dazzling array of 120 works made between 1936 and 1954. Bold, exuberant and often large in scale, the cut-outs have an engaging simplicity coupled with incredible creative sophistication.

Joyful and magical exhibition, me thinks. I urge you to go. But brace yourself for an explosion of colours… Maybe even wear sunglasses? You’ll look like an obnoxious ass but that might very well be the smart choice to make, if you ask me.
Sidenote: If you own little people and want to introduce them to fine art without scarring them for life, that’s definitely the exhibition for you — they’re going to love it (or at least, not be bored out of their minds by it). I remember when I was little and my mother decided that it was time for my sister and me to see some art stuff. She woke up one morning in a panic, grabbed us by the hand, dragged us to the Louvres and, while we were firmly in her grip (handcuffs might have been involved), she made us run through every single fucking room of the museum, having us repeat the same motions over and over again: look right look left look up (the ceiling, where the naked cherubs live), next room, look right look left look up, next room, look right look left look up, and so on and so forth… We did that for two consecutive days (oh my god, Le Louvres is fucking gigantic). And yet, we still managed to miss both the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Oh mum, Oh sweet clueless mum, thanks for trying, I guess? Henri Matisse: The Cut-Outs @ Tate Modern, London

In his late sixties, when ill health first prevented Matisse from painting, he began to cut into painted paper with scissors to make drafts for a number of commissions. In time, Matisse chose cut-outs over painting: he had invented a new medium. From snowflowers to dancers, circus scenes and a famous snail, the exhibition showcases a dazzling array of 120 works made between 1936 and 1954. Bold, exuberant and often large in scale, the cut-outs have an engaging simplicity coupled with incredible creative sophistication.

Joyful and magical exhibition, me thinks. I urge you to go. But brace yourself for an explosion of colours… Maybe even wear sunglasses? You’ll look like an obnoxious ass but that might very well be the smart choice to make, if you ask me.
Sidenote: If you own little people and want to introduce them to fine art without scarring them for life, that’s definitely the exhibition for you — they’re going to love it (or at least, not be bored out of their minds by it). I remember when I was little and my mother decided that it was time for my sister and me to see some art stuff. She woke up one morning in a panic, grabbed us by the hand, dragged us to the Louvres and, while we were firmly in her grip (handcuffs might have been involved), she made us run through every single fucking room of the museum, having us repeat the same motions over and over again: look right look left look up (the ceiling, where the naked cherubs live), next room, look right look left look up, next room, look right look left look up, and so on and so forth… We did that for two consecutive days (oh my god, Le Louvres is fucking gigantic). And yet, we still managed to miss both the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Oh mum, Oh sweet clueless mum, thanks for trying, I guess? Henri Matisse: The Cut-Outs @ Tate Modern, London

In his late sixties, when ill health first prevented Matisse from painting, he began to cut into painted paper with scissors to make drafts for a number of commissions. In time, Matisse chose cut-outs over painting: he had invented a new medium. From snowflowers to dancers, circus scenes and a famous snail, the exhibition showcases a dazzling array of 120 works made between 1936 and 1954. Bold, exuberant and often large in scale, the cut-outs have an engaging simplicity coupled with incredible creative sophistication.

Joyful and magical exhibition, me thinks. I urge you to go. But brace yourself for an explosion of colours… Maybe even wear sunglasses? You’ll look like an obnoxious ass but that might very well be the smart choice to make, if you ask me.
Sidenote: If you own little people and want to introduce them to fine art without scarring them for life, that’s definitely the exhibition for you — they’re going to love it (or at least, not be bored out of their minds by it). I remember when I was little and my mother decided that it was time for my sister and me to see some art stuff. She woke up one morning in a panic, grabbed us by the hand, dragged us to the Louvres and, while we were firmly in her grip (handcuffs might have been involved), she made us run through every single fucking room of the museum, having us repeat the same motions over and over again: look right look left look up (the ceiling, where the naked cherubs live), next room, look right look left look up, next room, look right look left look up, and so on and so forth… We did that for two consecutive days (oh my god, Le Louvres is fucking gigantic). And yet, we still managed to miss both the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Oh mum, Oh sweet clueless mum, thanks for trying, I guess? Henri Matisse: The Cut-Outs @ Tate Modern, London

In his late sixties, when ill health first prevented Matisse from painting, he began to cut into painted paper with scissors to make drafts for a number of commissions. In time, Matisse chose cut-outs over painting: he had invented a new medium. From snowflowers to dancers, circus scenes and a famous snail, the exhibition showcases a dazzling array of 120 works made between 1936 and 1954. Bold, exuberant and often large in scale, the cut-outs have an engaging simplicity coupled with incredible creative sophistication.

Joyful and magical exhibition, me thinks. I urge you to go. But brace yourself for an explosion of colours… Maybe even wear sunglasses? You’ll look like an obnoxious ass but that might very well be the smart choice to make, if you ask me.
Sidenote: If you own little people and want to introduce them to fine art without scarring them for life, that’s definitely the exhibition for you — they’re going to love it (or at least, not be bored out of their minds by it). I remember when I was little and my mother decided that it was time for my sister and me to see some art stuff. She woke up one morning in a panic, grabbed us by the hand, dragged us to the Louvres and, while we were firmly in her grip (handcuffs might have been involved), she made us run through every single fucking room of the museum, having us repeat the same motions over and over again: look right look left look up (the ceiling, where the naked cherubs live), next room, look right look left look up, next room, look right look left look up, and so on and so forth… We did that for two consecutive days (oh my god, Le Louvres is fucking gigantic). And yet, we still managed to miss both the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Oh mum, Oh sweet clueless mum, thanks for trying, I guess? Henri Matisse: The Cut-Outs @ Tate Modern, London

In his late sixties, when ill health first prevented Matisse from painting, he began to cut into painted paper with scissors to make drafts for a number of commissions. In time, Matisse chose cut-outs over painting: he had invented a new medium. From snowflowers to dancers, circus scenes and a famous snail, the exhibition showcases a dazzling array of 120 works made between 1936 and 1954. Bold, exuberant and often large in scale, the cut-outs have an engaging simplicity coupled with incredible creative sophistication.

Joyful and magical exhibition, me thinks. I urge you to go. But brace yourself for an explosion of colours… Maybe even wear sunglasses? You’ll look like an obnoxious ass but that might very well be the smart choice to make, if you ask me.
Sidenote: If you own little people and want to introduce them to fine art without scarring them for life, that’s definitely the exhibition for you — they’re going to love it (or at least, not be bored out of their minds by it). I remember when I was little and my mother decided that it was time for my sister and me to see some art stuff. She woke up one morning in a panic, grabbed us by the hand, dragged us to the Louvres and, while we were firmly in her grip (handcuffs might have been involved), she made us run through every single fucking room of the museum, having us repeat the same motions over and over again: look right look left look up (the ceiling, where the naked cherubs live), next room, look right look left look up, next room, look right look left look up, and so on and so forth… We did that for two consecutive days (oh my god, Le Louvres is fucking gigantic). And yet, we still managed to miss both the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Oh mum, Oh sweet clueless mum, thanks for trying, I guess?

          Henri Matisse: The Cut-Outs @ Tate Modern, London

          In his late sixties, when ill health first prevented Matisse from painting, he began to cut into painted paper with scissors to make drafts for a number of commissions. In time, Matisse chose cut-outs over painting: he had invented a new medium. From snowflowers to dancers, circus scenes and a famous snail, the exhibition showcases a dazzling array of 120 works made between 1936 and 1954. Bold, exuberant and often large in scale, the cut-outs have an engaging simplicity coupled with incredible creative sophistication.

          Joyful and magical exhibition, me thinks. I urge you to go. But brace yourself for an explosion of colours… Maybe even wear sunglasses? You’ll look like an obnoxious ass but that might very well be the smart choice to make, if you ask me.

          Sidenote: If you own little people and want to introduce them to fine art without scarring them for life, that’s definitely the exhibition for you — they’re going to love it (or at least, not be bored out of their minds by it). I remember when I was little and my mother decided that it was time for my sister and me to see some art stuff. She woke up one morning in a panic, grabbed us by the hand, dragged us to the Louvres and, while we were firmly in her grip (handcuffs might have been involved), she made us run through every single fucking room of the museum, having us repeat the same motions over and over again: look right look left look up (the ceiling, where the naked cherubs live), next room, look right look left look up, next room, look right look left look up, and so on and so forth… We did that for two consecutive days (oh my god, Le Louvres is fucking gigantic). And yet, we still managed to miss both the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo. Oh mum, Oh sweet clueless mum, thanks for trying, I guess?

          Magda Cordell, Figure (Woman) 1956-7 @ Tate Modern, London

          Tate Modern:

          With its highly textured surface and sack-like body, Cordell’s Figure (Woman) shows an affinity with the expressive abstraction of European artists such as Jean Dubuffet and Jean Fautrier. Her depiction of the female figure was seen by contemporary critics as a break with traditional representations of women, embodying the anxieties of a nuclear age. More recently, her paintings have been seen as images of heroic femininity with the distortions signifying the resilience of the human body against injury and change.

          More Tate musings on Cordell => HERE 

          Bloody magnificent, innit?

          Wassily Kandinsky, Swinging,1925

          This one hangs at Tate Modern, London. The museum runs some sort of caption contest on selected pieces, highlighted as “the big picture”. I really like one of the captions picked for Kandinsky’s Swinging:

          “Splendid spume sycophantic sergeant. Trending turbulence towards terrific tsunami. Ultimate ululation uxorious upward utopian. Virulent vain vein vexing vulgarities.” – Marc Roberts

          #AlliterationWorkout