Marc Yankus - The Space Between
Marc Yankus - The Space Between
Empty Lot in The West Village, from the series The Space Between, 2014
Three Blue Windows, from the series The Space Between, 2013.
Side of Building, from the series The Space Between, 2013.
Building Split, from the series The Space Between, 2013.
In this series, select historical buildings are portrayed in altered cityscapes and invented spaces that evoke the experience of memory, imagination and dream states playing out in a magical place. Strangely familiar, the buildings are elevated in a fictional composition that appears to tell a story or reflect a past history, but their power resides more in the realm of sensation than explicit narrative. The buildings seem to emerge from the landscape, shaped by the space around them or, in some cases, by the space between them. These surrealistic alterations of New York’s architectural skyline are a cross between imagination and documentation. As portraits, they are meant to reconstitute awareness and preserve the buildings through adjustments in reality and perception.
I’ve always been drawn to the majestic details and materials of classical historical buildings, many of which are hidden from view, tucked behind new architecture, or simply overlooked. Often discovered from rooftops or accessible from private views, I feel compelled to capture the slivers of the old, recreate the buildings to make them whole, and restructure them in place and history.
More Posts from Caitlin-mcc03 and Others
Claire Healy & Sean Cordeiro - Not Under my Roof
Not Under My Roof, 2009, Framed Photograph, 100.5 x 106.5 cm; 82.5 x 88.2cm.
Floor of entire farmhouse from Millmerran Queensland, wood, linoleum, 11 x 12 meters,
Arturo Kameya
Pan y circo, pero circo sin pan, 2020, Acrylic and clay powder on wood and found objects, installation approx: 270 x 450 x 20 cm | 106 1/4 x 177 1/8 x 7 7/8 in
"Childhood memories, scenes from Lima’s suburbs where the artist grew up in the 1990s, family traditions and popular culture often form the point of departure of Arturo’s artworks. These sources lead to intriguing groups of related, finely detailed paintings, installations and, occasionally, videos. [...] Arturo’s work feels both familiar and unknown at the same time. Yet all elements seem to relate. They find each other in a carefully composed idiom constructed by gentle looking forms and by soft pastel and grayish, slightly muted, colors. [...] Arturo’s artworks may looklike mementos or witnesses from a bygone era, which addssomething bittersweet, in between nostalgia, a painful sentimentand a celebration of the past." - excerpt from Turning history downside up by Madelon van Schie, Who can afford to feed more ghosts, 2021
Acrylic and clay powder on wood, wooden stool and tarantula skin, 70 x 82 x 25 cm | 27 1/2 x 32 1/4 x 9 7/8 in
Silencio sísmico, 2022, Acrylic and clay powder on wood, canvas and found objects, Variable dimensions
Enrica Casentini
Open Doors
The door is a symbol of border, of passage from a dimension to another one, from inside to outside.It can be open or closed.From the door to the house, an intimate space of identification, from house to city, extensive space of passage or stay where peoples, races and religions live together.Sometimes it's more difficult to open own doors. In this work I wanted to represent the individual and his will to open. Houses, like individuals, are many and different from each other. All doors are open to signify the choice of every individual, they rapesent the human will to open to exchange. For this reason the title of my work is "the open doors", it's my strong opinion that doors and borders can became place of exchange not of division.
Rob Swainston - Printstallations
PLEXUS (2011), woodblock print on paper with mirrors.
In Front of Behind the Wall, (2011), woodblock print on paper.
Zimmer Frei, (2012), woodblock print on fabric with wood and wire.
Rob Swainston reminds us we are not just consumers of icons, but producers and observers of images. All images are historically negotiated assemblages between humans, machines, materials, and social structures. In a society where social knowledge and power have become pure image, the print technologies historically central to this transformation can act as double-agent. Artists working in print media can be chameleons moving between image makers and image reproducers. Image reproducers are technocrats, proto-machines, and images-smiths in building the spectacle world order. In their perfection they ask no questions. Artists are image makers showing an image constructed, built, repeated, overprinted, coded, decoded, and endlessly negotiated. For the printmaker, the press bed is not a window of illusion, it is the space of social tinkering. The artist is a hacker. Rob Swainston performs this hack through two interrelated bodies of work—series of unique multiples and printstallations. Installations such as ‘A New System Every Monday’ and ‘All that is Solid Melts into Air’ mix print media, sculpture, painting, drawing and video to point out architectural, institutional, historical, and social spaces. Series of standardized works such as ‘Who Owns the Sky?’ and ‘Propositions’ move between representation and abstraction such that neither of these categories are important. The viewer participates in an “archeology of uncovering”, discerning numerous processes and images containing multiplicities of narratives culminating in an uncovering of the “significant image” and the realization “I see myself seeing myself.”
You pile up associations the way you pile up bricks. Memory itself is a form of architecture.
Louise Bourgeois
Marcus Buck
The series "restarchitektur" is a long time project, I am still working on. The idea is to show architecture without showing architecture. The series is taken on large format. On big prints you can see the slight marks of bygone architecture. Onetime in form of a world map decorated from the inhabitant , another time as marks of stairs from a former staircase.
This reminds of lithography. After grinding down layers of limestone to create a clean surface for printing, a ghost image of a previous print can sometimes spontaneously surface as a reminder of the stone's past experiences.
"Is it the fear of forgetting that triggers the desire to remember, or is it perhaps the other way around?" (Andreas Huyssen, Present Pasts: Urban Palimpsests and the Politics of Memory, 2003)
Gordon Matta-Clark. Bingo. 1974
Curator, Laura Hoptman: Gordon Matta-Clark was trained as an architect. His work took on a lot of different guises at the very beginning of his career, at the beginning of the 1960s, and it wasn't till his first cutting experiment in 1971 where he really took on what he called “anarchitecture.” And that is the idea of a kind of literal deconstruction of architecture to see how it was made in conjunction with or in opposition to the human beings who would inhabit it. Narrator: Matta-Clark made Bingo in 1974 by cutting into the facade of a house in Niagara Falls, New York that was slated to be demolished. Laura Hoptman: This was a period of time when a lot of buildings had been condemned or were rotting. So by making an artwork out of these abandoned houses and abandoned industrial sites, he was drawing attention to them. Narrator: He cut through the walls in frame of the house, creating nine equal sized rectangles that resembled the grid of a Bingo game card. This sculpture is made from three of those pieces. Laura Hoptman: So that's why you see some of the interior. And when you see the stairway, you're seeing both the front side and the back side of the facade. Narrator: The artist and a team of assistants worked 12 hours a day for 10 days to cut and remove the facade. Laura Hoptman: And as soon as he and his crew left, the bulldozers came and bulldozed the house.
Gordon Matta-Clark. Bingo. 1974, Building fragments: painted wood, metal, plaster, and glass, three sections, Overall 69" x 25' 7" x 10" (175.3 x 779.8 x 25.4 cm).
Paul Sermon
The bed is an object that is understood in all social and cultural contexts. Its semiotic language vary from the childhood context of security and play to the more complex context of privacy, intimacy and relaxation. When such a "charged" object is used as a telematic interface the user is confronted by the complexity of the object/interface and not the complexity of the technology. The telematic experience of communication is heightened when the technology involved is secondary to the primary point of importance, the bed interface. The technology disappears and becomes invisible. The bed is a very intensive object. The users are sometimes reluctant to enter "Telematic Dreaming", not because of the video technology, but because of the potential interaction on the bed in the public space.
