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I love his soft muted colour schemes

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It must be the most expensive canoe in history. This week in Manhattan a painting by Edinburgh-born Peter Doig of a small white boat lost in a tangle of weeds and tree stumps in some remote wilderness went under the hammer for $26m (£16.6m) in a sale that puts him unquestionably in the top financial echelon of living artists. It is the latest chapter in the most unlikely and heartwarming success story in 21st-century art.

Doig is a decent man, a generous teacher and a talented artist. More than a decade ago, I visited his studio when I was writing a catalogue for an exhibition he was about to have in Santa Monica with his friend Chris Ofili. They had neighbouring studios in east London at the time: both now live and work mostly in Trinidad. Doig spent most of the time praising Ofili. Yet all around us in his studio were his own paintings which have since become some of the most famous of our time.

Those canoes. In Doig's eerie composition 100 Years Ago - one version has a pink sky and pale blue sea, another has a dark blue sky and deeper colours in the water - time is suspended. The man in the canoe seems utterly adrift, a rootless adventurer far from home, or perhaps an escaped prisoner. On the horizon is a sinister island that looks military or penal. In fact, it is the abandoned Carrera prison island off the coast of Trinidad. Working from a photograph, he has not attempted to make this island's place on the horizon realistic. The disjointed perspectives add to the unease of the painting, its creation of a world that is a desolate beautiful dream.

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Turner prize-winning painter Chris Ofili. Photograph: Eamonn McCabe

Swamped, the work that set a new record price for Doig's art this week, is one of his earliest paintings of canoes and one of the earliest paintings that can be called a classic example of the Doig style. It was painted in 1990, just when he was starting to paint like Peter Doig. If this is worth £16.6m, you can't help wondering what one of his best paintings might cost: for Doig's work has got stronger as well as stranger over the years, evolving as good painting does to become ever more free and profound.

What is it that makes a Peter Doig painting such a hot property? He is more expensive than Damien Hirst, whose top price for a single work at auction was $17m. That was in 2007 and it is hard to imagine Hirst setting any records today as his artistic reputation continues to decline. There seems to be a moral here. Hirst appears fascinated by money; Doig does not seem interested in it at all. He teaches, when he's not in Trinidad, at the Kunstakademie in Düsseldorf - and he really does care about this side of his work.

For once, the art market has got it right. Amid all the nonsense, impostures, rhetorical bullshit and sheer trash that pass for art in the 21st century, Doig is a jewel of genuine imagination, sincere work and humble creativity. His art will last, and that is what his collectors have cottoned on to. They are making a sound investment in sheer quality.

Paragon, a 2006 painting by Doig.

Doig's art will last because it embodies a unique, beguiling vision. His paintings take the mind to new places, far-off places, forgotten places. He paints landscapes but it would make no sense to call him a landscape artist. Rather, like the early 20th-century metaphysical painter Giorgio de Chirico, he creates spooky fictional places inhabited by bizarre outcasts. In one of his most peculiar images, two personages dressed in militaristic Austro-Hungarian or Prussian pre-1918 uniforms welcome their guest - you or me, the person looking into the painting - at the entrance to a curving driveway with bejewelled walls. They seem to be the guardians of Doig's painted world: accept their invitation and you could enter this place, go up that driveway to who knows where. But it looks dangerous. Their clownish jollity is vaguely sinister. Would you really accept their offer? The painting is called Gasthof zur Muldentalsperre. It is as creepy as it is gorgeous.

It is Doig's ambiguous creation of places that makes his art so endlessly fascinating and tantalising. He paints jungles and snow-covered mountains, island paradises and ski lodges. Indeed, he paints the geography of 21st-century escape and pleasure: the places people dream about, the holidays they long for. Skiing in the mountains, basking in the tropical sun. Peter Doig creates his imaginary realms of joy with lush soaked-in colour. He's a painter who never splats out big brushy gestures. Instead his colours blot into the canvas and pool on it. Sometimes he uses linen, which gives an even more blotted effect. Over the lakes of colour he adds pinpoints of dazzle - stars, lamps, fireflies.

Detail from At the Edge of Town, 1986, by Doig. Photograph: Courtesy Michael Werner Gallery, London

And yet for all this sensuality, the places he paints are not quite there, not quite attainable. The idyll is always somewhere else. The people who live in his lost islands are timewasters on the beach or passing faces in the forest. Reality, in one of his paintings, is an old man alone on a Trinidad road.

Doig is the painter of the global age, a traveller without a destination, between cultures, between jobs, looking for paradise and finding a prison on the horizon. His art portrays the dreams we share, the freedoms we crave, on the beach with a can of Trinidad's favourite beer, Stag, as another sun goes down. Out on the silent water is an acid casualty in a canoe. Long may the art market fund his ghostly voyage.

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Stroke of genius: Peter Doig's eerie art whisks the mind to enchanted places

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It must be the most expensive canoe in history. This week in Manhattan a painting by Edinburgh-born Peter Doig of a small white boat lost in a tangle of weeds and tree stumps in some remote wilderness went under the hammer for $26m (£16.6m) in a sale that puts him unquestionably in the top financial echelon of living artists.

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Beautiful use of analogous colour schemes

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Landscape painter

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Some details from seascapes

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Part 1: Digital Environment Painting with Noah Bradley

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This is the first part of four segments on digital environment painting. Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DG3hPBMv_Sk Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ztdus3hJHwM Part 3: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNLkv5azjPc Part 4: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DDOVSlQs3t0 View the final painting here: http://noahbradley.deviantart.com/#/d2vuoib View my complete portfolio here: http://www.noahbradley.com/ I hope you enjoy watching this video, and if you've got any questions feel free to ask.

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Artists invented the first pigments-a combination of soil, animal fat, burnt charcoal, and chalk-as early as 40,000 years ago, creating a basic palette of five colors: red, yellow, brown, black, and white. Since then, the history of color has been one of perpetual discovery, whether through exploration or scientific advancement. The invention of new pigments accompanied the developments of art history's greatest movements-from the Renaissance to Impressionism -as artists experimented with colors never before seen in the history of painting.

Red

First employed in prehistoric cave paintings, red ochre is one of the oldest pigments still in use.

Found in iron-rich soil and first employed as an artistic material (as far as we know) in prehistoric cave paintings, red ochre is one of the oldest pigments still in use. Centuries later, during the 16th and 17th centuries, the most popular red pigment came from a cochineal insect, a creature that could only be found on prickly-pear cacti in Mexico. These white bugs produced a potent red dye so sought-after by artists and patrons that it quickly became the third greatest import out of the "New World" (after gold and silver), as explains Victoria Finlay in A Brilliant History of Color in Art. Raphael, Rembrandt, and Rubens all used cochineal as a glaze, layering the pigment atop other reds (like red ochre) to increase their intensity. A non-toxic source for red pigment, the cochineal bug is still used to color lipsticks and blush today.

Blue

For hundreds of years, the cost of lapis lazuli rivaled even the price of gold.

Ever since the Medieval era, painters have depicted the Virgin Mary in a bright blue robe, choosing the color not for its religious symbolism, but rather for its hefty price tag. Mary's iconic hue-called ultramarine blue-comes from lapis lazuli, a gemstone that for centuries could only be found in a single mountain range in Afghanistan. This precious material achieved global popularity, adorning Egyptian funerary portraits, Iranian Qur'ans, and later the headdress in Vermeer's Girl with a Pearl Earring (1665). For hundreds of years, the cost of lapis lazuli rivaled even the price of gold. In the 1950s, Yves Klein collaborated with a Parisian paint supplier to invent a synthetic version of ultramarine blue, and this color became the French artist's signature. Explaining the appeal of this historic hue, Klein said, "Blue has no dimensions. It is beyond dimensions."

Yellow

Turner used the experimental watercolor Indian Yellow-a fluorescent paint derived from the urine of mango-fed cows.

Few artists in history have been known for their use of yellow, though Joseph Mallord William Turner and Vincent van Gogh are the most notable exceptions. Turner so loved the color that contemporary critics mocked the British painter, writing that his images were "afflicted with jaundice," and that the artist may have a vision disorder. For his sublime and sun-lit seascapes, Turner used the experimental watercolor Indian Yellow-a fluorescent paint derived from the urine of mango-fed cows (a practice banned less than a century later for its cruelty to animals). For brighter touches, Turner employed the synthetic Chrome Yellow, a lead-based pigment known to cause delirium. Vincent van Gogh also painted his starry nights and sunflowers with this vivid and joyful hue. "Oh yes! He loved yellow, did good Vincent, the painter from Holland, gleams of sunlight warming his soul, which detested fog," wrote the painter Paul Gauguin of his friend and artistic companion.

Green

Green pigments have been some of the most poisonous in history.

While the color green evokes nature and renewal, its pigments have been some of the most poisonous in history. In 1775, the Swedish chemist Carl Wilhelm Scheele invented a deadly hue, Scheele's Green, a bright green pigment laced with the toxic chemical arsenic. Cheap to produce, Scheele's Green became a sensation in the Victorian era, even though many suspected the color to be dangerous for artists and patrons alike. The French emperor Napoleon Bonaparte's bedroom wallpaper even featured Scheele's Green, and historians believe the pigment caused the revolutionary's death in 1821. By the end of the 19th century, Paris Green-a similar mixture of copper and arsenic-replaced Scheele's Green as a more durable alternative, enabling Claude Monet, Paul Cézanne, and Pierre-Auguste Renoir to create vivid, emerald landscapes. Used as a rodenticide and an insecticide, Paris Green was still highly toxic, and may have been responsible for Cézanne's diabetes and Monet 's blindness. Not surprisingly, it was eventually banned in the 1960s.

Purple

The Impressionists-especially Monet-so adored the new hue that critics accused the painters of having "violettomania."

"I have finally discovered the true color of the atmosphere," Claude Monet once declared. "It's violet. Fresh air is violet." The purple shadows and lavender specks of light that enliven Monet's haystacks and waterlilies owe much to a little-known American portrait painter named John Goffe Rand. In 1841, Rand grew frustrated with the messy practice of storing paint in a pig's bladder, which was the prevailing method for preserving pigments at the time, and invented a more practical and portable option: a collapsible paint tube made of tin. This enabled artists like Monet to paint plein air, easily transporting their color to outdoor locations to capture impressions of the environment, and in turn led to the production of nuanced, pre-mixed paint shades in tin tubes, such as Manganese Violet, the first affordable mauve-colored paint that meant artists no longer had to mix red and blue to make purple. The Impressionists -especially Monet-so adored the new hue that critics accused the painters of having "violettomania."

Black

The darkest pigment of the Old Masters, "bone black" is produced by burning animal bones in an air-free chamber.

The darkest pigment found in Old Masters paintings is aptly named "bone black," and is produced by burning animal bones in an air-free chamber. While the Impressionists avoided black paint-finding areas of darkness to be filled with color-American artists in the '50s and '60s returned to black with avengeance. Frank Stella, Richard Serra, and Ad Reinhardt all created monochromatic black paintings, stripping the canvas of any subject matter other than the paint itself. Taken together, these painters prove that black is as nuanced a color as any other, capable of many permutations, tones, and textures. Speaking about his practice in 1967, Reinhardt quoted the Japanese painter and printmaker Katsushika Hokusai, saying, "There is a black which is old and a black which is fresh. Lustrous black and dull black, black in sunlight and black in shadow."

White

Of all the pigments that have been banned over the centuries, the color most missed by painters is likely Lead White.

Of all the pigments-Chrome Yellow, Scheele's Green, Paris Green-that have been banned over the centuries, the color most missed by painters is likely Lead White. This hue could capture and reflect a gleam of light like no other, though its production was anything but glamorous. The 17th-century Dutch method for manufacturing the pigment involved layering cow and horse manure over lead and vinegar. After three months in a sealed room, these materials would combine to create flakes of pure white. While scientists in the late 19th century identified lead as poisonous, it wasn't until 1978 that the United States banned the production of lead white paint. In this era, Robert Rauschenberg, Robert Ryman, and Agnes Martin turned to titanium and zinc whites to create monochromatic white paintings, while artists like Dan Flavin bypassed pigments altogether in sculptures that emitted white light directly.

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Artists invented the first pigments-a combination of soil, animal fat, burnt charcoal, and chalk-as early as 40,000 years ago, creating a basic palet...

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Although she is not Contemporary and is very much Modern, Hannah Höch has to be mentioned, as she is one of the most important collage artists with a great influence on all later generations. One of the originators of photomontage , a type of collage made of actual photographs or photographic reproductions, she created her most notable artworks during the rule of Weimar Germany. She worked hard to eliminate the sexist and racist codes ruling the country, challenging the marginalised place of women in the society and questioning beauty standards of the early 20th century by putting together clippings from fashion magazines and illustrated journals - thus creating a strong, independent woman ready for a treatment of equality. Many of her collages also depicted same sex couples and broke down the concept of traditional gender roles. Hannah Höch was also the only woman among the Berlin Dada group, but her contributions to the movement are still considered crucial.

Featured images: Stefan Moses - Portrait of Hannah Höch, 1975, via theredlist.com; Hannah Höch - Cut with the Dada Kitchen Knife through the Last Weimar Beer-Belly Cultural Epoch in Germany, 1919, via flickr.

To say that Mimmo Rotella was an experimenter is a great understatement. The Italian artist left an incredible legacy of artworks ranging an impressive number of media, but perhaps his most famous pieces are his "double décollages", semi-abstract compositions made of mass media imagery such as movie and advertising poster art he would rip from the streets and affix to canvases. Linked to Nouveau Réalisme, Mimmo Rotella's décollages were the exact opposite of collage and composing, as this process consisted of tearing up and cutting off. This act of rebellion had a symbolic meaning, representing a protest against "a society that has lost its taste for change," as Rotella said himself. Linked to this process were also the "retro d'affiches", where he would focus on the back side of the posters, leaving it untouched after taking them off walls.

Featured images: Mimmo Rotella, via Getty; Mimmo Rotella - La Donna e il Mito, 2002, via artsy.net.

Arguably the most famous collage ever created by Sir Peter Blake was the sleeve he created for Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, the eight studio album by The Beatles released in 1967. At the time already a renowned Pop artist, Peter Blake designed the front of the LP, which included a colourful collage featuring the Beatles in costume as the Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, standing with a group of life-sized cardboard cut-outs of famous people, including actors, sportsmen, scientists and gurus. In total, the collage includes 57 photographs and nine waxworks. In 2998, he created an updated version of Sgt. pepper for the campaign for Liverpool to become European Capital of Culture in 2008, with famous figures from the city's history. Sir Peter Blake created other album covers as well, often in form of collages made of cut-out photographs and objects.

Featured images: Peter Blake, via the-talks.com; Peter Blake - Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band, 1967, via vam.org.uk.

As a member of the Surrealist group which saw many other females like Gala Dali and Lee Miller as muses, rather than members, Eileen Agar shared the movement's love of jokes, puns, uncanny juxtapositions. Her collages consisted of classical heads, antique jewellery magazine pages, layers of paper, parchment and marbling, for instance, although she also worked with painting alone. The British artist was inspired by the English romantic painting as well, which could be seen in the poetic references of her pieces. Often leaning towards abstraction, Eileen Agar sometimes also depicted topics like death, life, seasonal cycles and the passing of time, for which she uses physical symbols to create found object art , for example.

Featured image: Eileen Agar, via photobucket; Eileen Agar - The Fish's Tale, 1979, via redfern-gallery.com.

An artist and feminist, Nancy Spero mainly addressed war and female sexuality in her work, having constantly being interested and involved in contemporary political, social and cultural events. Often referencing women from prehistory, her artworks feature scenery from mythology, iconography, pagan goddesses, fertility figures, Amazon warriors and much more. One of her most famous collages is the 1979 Notes in Time, which is inspired by Grecian scrolls and the story of Troy. It is made of a total of 24 panels, each nine feet long, punctuated by 96 quotations and multiple female figures, usually nude. It is described as "a grand non-narrative celebration of the female form, but also [a document of] a female struggle against political stereotype".

Featured image: Nancy Spero, via firstrunfeatures.com; Nancy Spero - Notes in Time, 1979, via MoMA.

His photographic collages are, to say the least, disquieting. John Stezaker has been making them in private for over four decades before they finally found their way to major galleries, and even the Sydney Biennale. Working in the realms of conceptual and appropriation art, he is clearly influenced by the Surrealist artists , as he cuts found photographs, usually glamorous portraits from the 1950s movie stars, and combines them other faces or shots of landscapes, but also pornography, vintage postcards and book illustrations - usually resulting in eerie hybrids that almost make us look away. The fact that John Stezaker received the prestigious Deutche Börse photography prize for his collages, causing mixed reactions, proved that this form of art is very much alive and well, but also quite controversial.

Featured image: John Stezaker, via photographyschool.nl; John Stezaker - Pair IV, 2007, via Guardian.

One of the most important contemporary African artists today, Wangechi Mutu works across a variety of media, including video, performance, sculpture and of course collage, through which she investigates topics like gender, race and colonialism. Inspired by artists like Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele, as well as movements like Surrealism, she composes imagery drawn from anthropological, medical and ethnographic texts, pornography and and even Vogue magazine, calling out the violence that women, and black women in particular, endure in today's society. Wangechi Mutu's works on paper are often painted with ink and acrylic paint, and accompanied with materials like plastic pearls, 24 karat gold and latex.

Featured image: Wangechi Mutu, via Guardian; Wangechi Mutu - Non je ne regrette rien, 2007, via rfc.museum.

Aside from the marvellous, 40-ton Sugar Baby, which turned out to be her most famous artwork to date, American artist Kara Walker is also known for her black and white silhouettes that have been pasted on the walls of many galleries worldwide to address African American racial identity . These figures are often involved in scenes of slavery, violence and conflict, inspired by traditional African illustration and folklore of the pre-Civil War United States. These cut-out collages and paste-ups actually represent a part of a larger idea, as there are also light projectors that cast the viewers' own shadows straight into these narratives. This way, they would inevitably become a part of the artwork, unable to ignore it or walk away.

Featured images: Kara Walker, via AP; Kara Walker - Grub for Sharks- A Concession to the Negro Populace, 2004, image via Tate. All images used for illustrative purposes only.

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Contemporary Collage Artists That Turn Paper to Life

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Although she is not Contemporary and is very much Modern, Hannah Höch has to be mentioned, as she is one of the most important collage artists with a great influence on all later generations. One of the originators of photomontage , a type of collage made of actual photographs or photographic reproductions, she created her most notable artworks during the rule of Weimar Germany.

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Back to selection
The Grand Budapest Hotel

Perhaps video essays are like pornography in that, as the saying goes, you know it when you see it. But what distinguishes a video essay from a short film and what are the ground rules for this relatively new form? Finally, how much creative leeway can a video essayist take with a filmmaker's work without being disrespectful or misrepresentative?

These questions arose last month when we published a video essay from Kevin B. Lee, chief video essayist at Fandor, about the spaces in Chantal Akerman's final documentary, No Home Movie. Initially, Lee edited the video to music. But after receiving some complaints, including from the distributors of the film, Lee reassessed the music in his video essay and decided to create a new version without the music.

"I watched the essay and I was surprised because there was no commentary on it. It was five minutes of Chantal's film put in a different order with this very sentimental music laid over it," said Jonathan Miller, president of Icarus Films, No Home Movie 's U.S. distributor. "I wasn't sure what made it an essay. It was as if he (Lee) cut Chantal's footage to make another film entirely."

Lee understood Miller's concern and opted to leave both versions online in order to show how a piece of music can define the same footage in two separate videos.

As the video essay continues to emerge as an entirely new form of commentary, this particular issue raises questions about authorship and intention. What makes something a video essay and not an entirely new film created from re-editing the same footage? Is it okay to add music to a film without any?

As a relatively new media form, video essays have yet to conform to any structural guidelines, although they've been around long enough for define patterns to emerge: the supercut and the fan tribute, for example.

We can all agree that a video essay is a short online video which cuts together footage from one or more films in order to reveal new insights about them. But are there any ground rules? And how much (if at all) should video essayist concern themselves with the original filmmaker's intent?

Filmmaker Magazine reached out to a select group of video essayists to weigh in on the question. Below is a selection of their responses.

Arielle Bernstein: I'm primarily an essayist and cultural critic, so I've never thought of the video essays I've collaborated on as films in their own right. The video essays I've worked on are thesis-driven and images are used along with text in order to persuade the viewer to read and interpret these images in a certain way. For me, a video essay is distinct from a film because the work that is being done is about creating this kind of analytic framework for the viewer and reader to re-interpret or re-imagine original images.

Agnes Varda's Search for Meaning from Fandor Keyframe on Vimeo.

Kevin B. Lee, Founding editor and chief video essayist for Fandor's Keyframe: I don't think one can so neatly separate "a video essay from a reworked version of a film" - nearly all video essays qualify as reworked versions as a film. I don't see it as a black and white issue of "what is or isn't a video essay," but more of a spectrum measured by the degree of thought put into the reworking of the film. I see video essays as one strain of the essay film whose defining characteristic is the articulation of thought in audiovisual form. By that logic, the more thinking on a subject that can be discerned in a video, the more it can qualify as a video essay.

However, that thinking isn't measured simply by how much talking or commentary is put into the video, otherwise we should just stick to writing articles and essays in text form. We also have to take into consideration how much thoughtfulness can be found in the reworking of the material through the use of editing, sound and music. That's what makes the video essay such an exciting new form, because now we have to combine the criteria by which we measure good critical thinking with good filmmaking as well.

Watch Lee's video essay on video essays, What Makes a Video Essay Great? below:

What Makes a Video Essay Great? from Fandor Keyframe on Vimeo.

Max Winter, Editor-in-Chief, Press Play: One of the most interesting things about this particular form is that there aren't any rules, or rather that there is no firm set of such rules. The video essayists tend to make up the rules as they go along. The one thing that binds all of them of course, is a love of film itself. That holds everything together: anything the essayist might say in a piece has that in its backdrop, that, in the range of experiences available to connoisseurs of culture, the experience they most wish to examine, and probe, and on whose examination they will spend hours and hours of meticulous work, is film. Another rule, possibly contradictory, is that something of the essayist has to come forward in the piece.

The most memorable video essays I've seen bring an element to the fore - symmetry in Wes Anderson, first shots vs. last shots -that is such an area of obsession for the essayist that the piece itself becomes something they have to express-and that feeling of urgency communicates itself in the drive of the piece. Another ground rule, or perhaps we're talking about cornerstones of "success," is that the piece remind you of something crucially true about the filmmaker addressed, that it drop anchor, in a sense-that you watch it, and you think, yes exactly, I'd never quite thought about that, but-how true.

Another "goal" these pieces could be said to have is explosiveness: instant immersion in the work of a filmmaker. This immersion is obviously literally explosive when the subject is someone like Tarantino or Godard, but just as much, in a quieter way, if the piece is about mirrors in Bergman, or the geometrical framing of Ada.

Video essays have, in my experience, what could be called a boiling point. Many of them simmer, and are no less remarkable for simmering, but some of them boil. It's ultimately about the essayist's mastery of the material, the degree to which that person absorbs and can re-express the idea he or she has, i.e. framing in Kurosawa, or what watching Breathless might have meant to a young film student, or what it takes to become a "cinephile."

Boiling is the goal, but I like to think that there's a little boil in all of them, and that all of these pieces are transformative, in both the legal and the intellectual sense. They make us watch more carefully-and what higher goal of any form of criticism could there be? The knee-jerk response to these pieces is, in the more resistant viewer, "why don't you make your own film?" That question, unfortunately, is wholly beside the point. Most video essayists could make their own films, but the simple fact is that they didn't. And to find out why not, you have to watch their work.

V. Renee, NoFilmSchool: What defines a video essay and when does it become its own film? I think it's a little difficult to answer, because the film essay has only just started gaining popularity in the last year or so, so there aren't really any defined rules or archetypes yet. However, I've found that there's a huge difference between the ones with accompanying narration and/or text and the ones without. The ones with them are exactly what they advertise themselves to be, video essays, while the ones without, I think, are the ones that force us to question the definition of a video essay.

You've got, for example, Lewis Bond of Channel Criswell who narrates these insanely in-depth pieces on topics like the cinematic techniques of Miyazaki, and then you've got kogonada who does these supercuts sans voiceover or text, like the one on the use of eyes in Hitchcock films.

Both teach us something about the subject of their videos, but while one has an overt lesson with evidence and research and bullet points, the other simply has a series of images and leaves it up to the viewer to take from it what they will.

The question is do we hold these video essays up to the same standards of written academic essays? If we do, then a supercut set to classical music without any narration probably wouldn't qualify. I mean, imagine turning in the written equivalent of that essay to a professor...you'd flunk. If we don't, then the video essay could take whichever form it wants to, unless it starts veering away from being a teaching or observational piece, transforming from a critique into a film with its own story...I think that's when it's no longer a video essay.

But I don't think it's an either/or thing...there are plenty of video essays that celebrate the work of a director by editing together a bunch of their shots set to emotional music. All of a sudden you're like, "My god! I just love Jeff Cronenweth and his beautiful work." The video works more as a tribute piece than a video essay or supercut; I think that's where creative leeway comes in. If you're truly making a video essay, I'm not sure how much creative leeway you need, to be honest.

It's an interesting thing to think about, especially because this might be one of the first times where the line between a critique and the piece in which it is critiquing has been blurred.

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What is a Video Essay? Creators Grapple with a Definition | Filmmaker Magazine

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Back to selection The Grand Budapest Hotel Perhaps video essays are like pornography in that, as the saying goes, you know it when you see it. But what distinguishes a video essay from a short film and what are the ground rules for this relatively new form?

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Analogous colour scheme

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Neutral Complimentaries - red & green

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Analogous Colour scheme

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Sean discusses the subject of his painting and the humble project of transformation.

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How To See in Value - Part 1: Observation Strategies

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http://www.freshdesigner.com/how-to-see-in-value/ Being able to see the world as shapes of value, especially colored shapes and objects, is a master skill to cultivate as a visual artist. It's important to the artist because in order to compose and arrange shapes in our pictures, we must first see and understand their inherent grayscale value.

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For thousands of years, man has dreamed of creating some kind of Utopia. A society where all can be free and happy. One person's Utopia can be vastly different from another. Some are simply a society where we all live free, while others a fully communist.

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"a social space of otherness, at once physical and interpsychic" - Erik Davis Join Jason Silva as he freestyles complex systems of society, technology and human existence and discusses the truth and beauty of science in a form of existential jazz. Subscribe now!

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An Outline of Foucault's Six Principles of Heterotopia

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Film by Victoria J. E. Jones An outline of French philosopher Michel Foucault's Six Principles of Heterotopia...I realise that this is a bit rough (it was made in my lunch hour)...and that it isn't one minute thirty....ps. this is not an origami instruction video!

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Is there a more divisive film-maker in cinema today than Terrence Malick? It's doubtful. To his disciples, he's a poet and visionary whose body of work brims with visual panache and metaphysical yearning. To his detractors, he's a ponderous and self-indulgent bore, obsessed with nature to the point of parody.

Take 2011's The Tree of Life, which was only his fifth feature in nearly five decades - yes, it won the Palme d'Or, but it also mightily annoyed some people. So much so, in fact, that in Stamford, Connecticut, one cinema was forced to put up a sign making it clear there would be no refunds for those who didn't like it.

Credit: Joe Meyers (twitter.com/joesview)

Malick divides actors, too. Richard Gere notoriously fell out with him on the set of Days of Heaven, while other Hollywood stars - such as Adrien Brody and Rachel Weisz - have seen their roles drastically trimmed or excised completely in the edit room without warning.

For all that, though, Malick remains a master at coaxing career-high performances from his cast - just witness Martin Sheen as the James Dean-fixated greaser Kit in Badlands, or Jim Caviezel as the pensive deserter Private Witt in The Thin Red Line.

As his new picture Knight of Cups arrives in UK cinemas, here is a handy guide to Malick's famously hard-to-interpret oeuvre.

Badlands (1973)

Starring: Martin Sheen, Sissy Spacek

What it's about: Malick's first film is also his best and least opaque. Shot on a shoestring when the director was 29, it's loosely based on a Fifties murder spree, with Sheen and Spacek as alienated lovers on the lam. The latter's voice-over, full of dreamy innocence, was later aped in True Romance - as was the plinky-plonky score.

What the critics said:"A film so rich in ideas it hardly knows where to turn. Transcendent themes of love and death are fused with a pop-culture sensibility and played out against a midwestern background, which is breathtaking both in its sweep and in its banality." (Dave Kehr, The Chicago Reader.)

What the actors said: In 1999, Sheen told The Guardian that it "still is" the best script he's ever read. "It was mesmerising. It disarmed you. It was a period piece, and yet of all time. It was extremely American, it caught the spirit of the people, of the culture, in a way that was immediately identifiable."

The dialogue in a nutshell: "Of course I had to keep all of this a secret from my Dad. He would have had a fit because Kit was ten years older than me and came from the wrong side of the tracks so called."
The film in one shot:

Days of Heaven (1978)

Starring: Richard Gere, Brooke Adams

What (we think) it's about: Told by Malick to ditch the script and invent their own lines, Gere and Adams pose as siblings to harvest wheat for a dying farmer (Sam Shepard), in this beautiful, peach-hued masterpiece set among the miraculous plains of the Texan Pandhandle at the beginning of the 20th century. Its chief theme about man's frailty in the face of nature's power has become a recurring Malick motif.

What the critics said: "This is a movie made by a man who knew how something felt, and found a way to evoke it in us. That feeling is how a child feels when it lives precariously, and then is delivered into security and joy, and then has it all taken away again - and blinks away the tears and says it doesn't hurt." (Roger Ebert.)

What the actors said: "We shot a much more richly verbal movie, with much more high emotions, much more dramatic," said Gere. "And when I came to loop the movie and I saw that it wasn't that, I clearly was not too happy about that because all of us could have saved a lot of brain cells in the process."

The dialogue in a nutshell: "Nobody's perfect. There was never a perfect person around. You just have half-angel and half-devil in you."
The film in one shot:

The Thin Red Line (1998)

Starring: Jim Caviezel, Sean Penn, Nick Nolte, Woody Harrelson

What (we think) it's about: Ending his 20-year sabbatical, Malick produced this near-three-hour essay on nature's colossal indifference to humanity, as seen through the prism of the American assault on Guadalcanal in 1942. It's adapted from James Jones's novel, and is sad, soulful and full of eye-catching vistas and languid shots of the wind blowing through the lush hillsides. It's also really rather good.

What the critics said: "It's a genuinely epic ciné-poem that essentially sidesteps history, politics and conventional ethics to deal with war as an absolute, inevitable and eternal facet of existence." (Geoff Andrew, Time Out.)

What the actors said: Brody, who had his role as Corporal Fife dramatically reduced after filming, told The Independent: "I was so focused and professional, I gave everything to it, and then to not receive everything ... in terms of witnessing my own work. It was extremely unpleasant because I'd already begun the press for a film that I wasn't really in. Terry obviously changed the entire concept of the film. I had never experienced anything like that... You know the expression 'Don't believe the hype'? Well, you shouldn't."

The dialogue in a nutshell: "What is this war at the heart of nature?"
The film in one shot:

The New World (2005)

Starring: Q'orianka Kilcher, Colin Farrell, Christopher Plummer

What (we think) it's about: A visually sublime and languorous retelling of the Pocahontas legend - with plenty of voice-over and images of trees - set in 1607 Virginia. Farrell is the idealistic rebel colonist John Smith; Kilcher is the Powhatan princess Pocahontas with whom he falls in love. Simple, right?

What the critics said: "Malick paints the celluloid like a canvas, filling it with rapturous images of wild America, its flowing fields of grass, rivers teeming with fish and the endless horizon of free land." (Roger Moore, Orlando Sentinel.)

What the actors said: "[Malick] is quite an extraordinary guy and I loved some of his movies very much," Plummer told the Hollywood Reporter. "But the problem with Terry, which I soon found, is that he needs a writer. Desperately. Because he insists on doing everything, as we all know, and he insists on writing, and over-writing, and over-writing until it sounds terribly pretentious and you have to work terribly hard to make it sound real."

Plummer also vented to New York Magazine in 2011: "[Malick is] fascinated by nature, and just cuts to birds... I wrote him an infuriated letter because I saw the film and I was hardly in it - he cut my part to s---."

The dialogue in a nutshell: "He is like a tree. He shelters me. I lie in his shade."
The film in one shot:

The Tree of Life (2011)

Starring: Brad Pitt, Jessica Chastain, Sean Penn

What (we think) it's about: Prefaced by a quote from the Book of Job - "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding" - The Tree of Life finds Malick yet again pondering the nature of existence. As troubled architect Jack O'Brien (Penn) reflects on his tumultuous Fifties childhood in Waco, Texas - in particular his formative relationship with his parents (Chastain and Pitt) - we're presented with a flurry of portentous voice-overs, lingering shots of nature, and one sequence taking in volcanoes, cosmic explosions and dinosaurs. Yes, dinosaurs.

What the critics said: "The sheer beauty of this film is almost overwhelming, but as with other works of religiously minded art, its aesthetic glories are tethered to a humble and exalted purpose, which is to shine the light of the sacred on secular reality." (AO Scott, The New York Times.)

What the actors said: "[Malick]'s like an underwater diver who's waiting for the sea turtle to go by," Brad Pitt told The Guardian, "and then he follows till he's not even near the boat any more... It was a really freeform, butterfly-net kind of way of catching moments."

The dialogue in a nutshell: "Nature only wants to please itself. Get others to please it too. Likes to lord it over them. To have its own way. It finds reasons to be unhappy when all the world is shining around it. And love is smiling through all things."
The film in one shot:

To the Wonder (2012)

Starring: Olga Kurylenko, Ben Affleck, Rachel McAdams, Javier Bardem

What (we think) it's about: Profundities, awestruck whispers and shots of Kurylenko pirouetting pervade this very religious and very sincere picture about the death of a romance. There's also the sight of Bardem in a cassock, which takes some getting used to.

What the critics said: "The director's first real misfire, a meditation on love and lost paradise that starts with breathtaking assurance and slowly crumbles into self-parody." (Ty Burr, Boston Globe.)

What the actors said: "The experience of it seemed half-crazy in that we didn't really have dialogue," said Affleck, "so I didn't really know what was happening. Then I realised that he was accumulating colors that he would use to paint with later in the editing room.

"My character doesn't really do that much. It was kind of a wash for me in terms of learning something as an actor, because Terry uses actors in a different way - he'll [have the camera] on you and then tilt up and go up to a tree, so you think, 'Who's more important in this - me or the tree?' But you don't ask him, because you don't want to know the answer."

The dialogue in a nutshell: "Newborn. I open my eyes. I melt. Into the eternal night. A spark. You got me out of the darkness. You gathered me up from earth. You've brought me back to life."
The film in one shot:

Knight of Cups (2015)

Starring: Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Natalie Portman

What (we think) it's about: Expect religious murmurings, pretty ladies skipping and vogueing to camera (yes, again), a hushed voice-over and snatches of classical music, as Malick unfurls his weakest film yet, the story of a disillusioned writer (Bale) in search of love and self through the urban jungles and stark deserts of LA and Las Vegas.

Knight of Cups trailer 02:17

What the critics said: "The film seems to be fighting a losing battle to make sense of itself, to coalesce into a statement, to not fade away. This feels right. Knight of Cups is not a young man's movie. It's an old man's movie. A philosophically engaged, beatific, starchild-as-old-man's movie. The end is coming." (Matt Zoller Seitz, RogerEbert.com.)

What the actors said: "I was always the one kept most in the dark in the middle of it," said Bale on Good Morning America. "Whenever I would speak, Terry would tell me to shut up. This is more of a 'let's see what happens', therefore the viewing experience is also that as well."

The dialogue in a nutshell: "You gave me peace. You gave me what the world can't give. Mercy. Love. Joy. All else is cloud. Mist. Be with me. Always."
The trailer in one shot:

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From the sublime to the ridiculous: understanding the films of Terrence Malick

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Is there a more divisive film-maker in cinema today than Terrence Malick? It's doubtful. To his disciples, he's a poet and visionary whose body of work brims with visual panache and metaphysical yearning. To his detractors, he's a ponderous and self-indulgent bore, obsessed with nature to the point of parody.

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I erased the background from this photo and then added the next three images to it. I finished with a layer using the gradient tool to give it the rosy hue.

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I erased the background from this photo and then added the next three images to it. I finished with a layer using the gradient tool to give it the rosy hue.

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I tried to capture a sense of a journey, a remembering. Maybe fragmented memories of childhood or of a specific time rather than a literal journey. I had planned to import music (Pergolesi's Stabat Mater) to the video but I liked the sounds on the clips I recorded and felt it really suited the scenes better.

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Find artworks for sale and information related to Arturo Herrera (Venezuelan, 1959-) on artnet. Browse gallery artworks, auctions, art events, biography details, news, and more for Arturo Herrera.

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Wangechi Mutu is a contemporary Kenyan artist noted for her work conflating gender, race, art history, and personal identity. Creating complex collages, videos, sculptures, and performances, Mutu's work features recurring mysterious leitmotifs such as masked women and snake-like tendrils. Her pastiche-like practice combines a variety of source material and textures to explore consumerism and excess: for a 2005 work titled Cancer of the Uterus, Mutu employed a medical pathology diagram, facial features cut from a magazine, fur, and a heavy application of black glitter to create an eerily distorted face. The almost science fiction-like nature of her imagery has placed her work within the realm of Afrofuturism, and her practice is often discussed as providing an alternate course of history for people of African descent. Deeply concerned with Western commercialism, Mutu has explained that "a lot of my work reflects the incredible influence that America has had on contemporary African culture. Some of it's insidious, some of it's innocuous, some of it's invisible. It's there." Born on June 22, 1972 in Nairobi, Kenya, she received her BFA from Cooper Union in 1996, and subsequently her MFA in sculpture from Yale University in 2000. Her work has been exhibited worldwide, including a major retrospective that opened in the Nasher Museum of Art in North Carolina in 2013, and traveled globally. In 2019, her exhibition The NewOnes, will free Us, was featured as the inaugural Facade Commission at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It consisted of four bronze sculptures, individually titled The Seated I, II, III, and IV, that sat in each niche on the front of the museum which had previously remained empty for 117 years.The artist lives and works in Brooklyn, NY.

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Wangechi Mutu is a contemporary Kenyan artist noted for her work conflating gender, race, art history, and personal identity. View Wangechi Mutu's 199 artworks on artnet. Find an in-depth biography, exhibitions, original artworks for sale, the latest news, and sold auction prices.

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he First International Dada Fair took place in Berlin in the summer of 1920, and included works by George Grosz, John Heartfield, Max Ernst and Francis Picabia. Photographs from the opening show the gallery teeming with paintings, posters and scurrilous assemblages; hanging from the ceiling is Prussian Archangel, by Heartfield and Rudolf Schlichter: a pig-faced dummy in military uniform. Suited and spatted, the dadaists comport themselves with dandyish indifference to their own anti-art inventions. There are only two women present, and one of them is the bobbed and diminutive Hannah Höch, who leans playfully on a cane borrowed from Grosz while she looks over the shoulder of her lover, Raoul Hausmann. To the right of the couple is a pasted slogan: "Art is dead. Long live the machine art of Tatlin." And to the left a large, squarish composition in which one can just about discern faces, text and fragments of machinery.

The work in question is Höch's photomontage Cut With the Kitchen Knife Dada Through the Last Weimar Beer-Belly Cultural Epoch of Germany. Judging by reviews of the time it was one of the hits of the fair, perhaps because it's so richly legible in terms of contemporary cultural politics. Ranged in the top right corner are the forces of "anti-dada": stern representatives of the late empire, the army and the new Weimar government. Below, in the dada corner, are massed artists, communists and other radicals. Raoul Hausmann is being extruded, shat out really, by a machine to which is affixed the head of Karl Marx. There are less crudely anatomical machines scattered about the metre-wide collage, and female film stars such as Pola Negri battle with moustached emissaries of the old German order. In the bottom right corner, Höch has glued a small map showing the European countries in which women could then vote.

Staatshäupter (Heads of State), 1918-20. Photograph: Collection of IFA, Stuttgart

Cut With the Kitchen Knife is Höch's best-known work, though it's something of an anomaly - not least in its scale - and it does not appear in the Whitechapel Gallery's new exhibition. Höch claimed she had hit on the technique of photomontage while on a Baltic holiday with the married Hausmann in 1918; having come across mocked-up photos sent home by German soldiers, in which the young men's heads were superimposed on pictures of musketeers, they realised the power of cut-and-paste to "alienate" images. This origin tale is slightly misleading, however, because since 1916 Höch had been working for the Berlin publisher Ullstein, producing embroidery and lace designs for such periodicals as Die Dame and Die Praktische Berlinerin. She was probably already familiar with the kinds of collage that an expanding print media practised with photographs. Höch worked on these handicraft magazines for a decade, and even wrote a manifesto of sorts for modern embroidery, in which she enjoined Weimar-era women to "develop a feeling for abstract forms".

Höch, in other words, was an unlikely addition to the boisterous lineup of Berlin dada, and efforts to edge her out of the frame began almost immediately. Whether because of her conventional training in the applied arts, her involvement in commercial illustration or the mere fact of her being a woman, Grosz and Heartfield took against her work, and tried to exclude it from the fair; she was only reinstated when Hausmann, a key figure in the group, threatened to withdraw. Most of what she exhibited in 1920 has been lost: more photomontages and a few of her trademark "dada dolls". A photograph of Höch cradling one of these curious figurines shows her sporting an astonishing science-fiction get-up, but she did not relish the exhibitionist element in dada. It is said she was embarrassed by the bohemian antics of her male confederates, though she did appear in a supporting role (armed with a saucepan and a toy gun) in at least one clamorous performance.

The montages that Höch made in the years following the fair divide equally between explicitly political comment - more or less in line with communist colleagues such as Heartfield - and a visual celebration of the 1920s New Woman: though the latter leans in turn towards more formal, eventually abstract, experiments. In Heads of State, from 1920, she took a recent newspaper photograph of German president Friedrich Ebert and his defence minister Gustav Noske, pictured in their bathing trunks at a Baltic resort, and set their paunchy figures atop an iron-on embroidery pattern of a woman with a parasol, surrounded by flowers and butterflies. A year later, in - which might mean "Dada-Serious", or may be a reference to fellow collagist Max Ernst - she was juxtaposing sentimental images of 19th-century femininity with photographs of athletic young women whose limbs, freed at last from the constraints of the old century, are equated with the soaring forms of skyscrapers. There are bare legs everywhere in Höch's art from this point on: flexing and leaping, frequently amputated from any actual body, the motif expresses at once the graphic energy of the New Woman and a kind of surrealist grotesque - the abscised limb with a life of its own.

Hannah Höch c1926. Photograph: courtesy of Ubu Gallery, NY/Galerie Berinson Berlin

By the end of the 1920s Höch had lost touch with most of the Berlin dada group, though she remained well-connected among the European avant-garde: her friends and occasional collaborators included Tristan Tzara, László Moholy-Nagy and Kurt Schwitters. (Along with Hans Arp, Schwitters, she later recalled, was among the very few male artists she knew who was willing to take a woman seriously as a colleague.) She had split from Hausmann in 1922, and at the end of the decade, having moved to the Netherlands, she began a lesbian relationship with the Dutch writer Til Brugman.

For almost 10 years after the dada fair, Höch declined to exhibit her photomontages, preferring to concentrate on painting. But she had not stopped cutting and pasting, and this period produced two of her most compelling and self-contained projects. The first, From an Ethnographic Museum, is a group of 17 works made in the late 1920s, featuring images of non-European sculpture sutured to photographic fragments of human bodies and faces. In the catalogue for the Whitechapel exhibition, the scholar Brett Van Hoesen frets about the artist's precise attitude to her colonial source materials. Höch had frequented ethnographic museums in Leiden and Berlin, but we cannot say for certain that she developed much of a critical perspective towards relics from Germany's lost colonies or the ways they were now exhibited. She seems more interested here in form than politics, experimenting with increasingly grotesque agglomerations of heads and body parts, and setting her inventions against slabs of livid colour.

At the same time, she had embarked on a more private project, completed in 1934. Höch's Album is a scrapbook of a little over 100 pages into which she pasted 421 photographs cut from magazines and newspapers. It is not an exercise in photomontage as such; almost all the images are intact, and the book's visual intensity is mostly a matter of how they collide and rhyme across double-page spreads. She borrows liberally from fashion photography, movie-star portraits, architectural studies and natural-history close-ups. The legs of dancers and naked gymnasts resemble nests of scaffolding and the spindly forms of Karl Blossfeldt's plant photographs; dogs and kittens stare soulfully like Hollywood starlets and pompous statesmen. It's been argued that the Album was a repository for motifs to be employed later in her photomontages, but the effect is actually of a fully achieved work, in which the forms and images of mass media meld and interlace into an exotic whole.

Für ein Fest gemacht (Made for a Party), 1936. Photograph: Collection of IFA, Stuttgart

Little of Höch's post-dada work was exhibited at the time. Though her collages were not included in the Entartete Kunst exhibition of 1937, she had been an early victim of the Nazis' assault on "degenerate art". An exhibition of her paintings and photomontages was planned at the Bauhaus in Dessau in May 1932, but was cancelled when the Nazi-dominated local council closed the school. Höch had been marked out with many of her dada contemporaries as a "cultural Bolshevik"; in a postwar interview she commented regarding the retrospective evidence of the 1920 fair: "Those few slogans were indeed evidence enough, in the Nazi era, to have us all tried and condemned as communists." While many avant-gardists now fled Germany, Höch went into internal exile: she bought a house on the outskirts of Berlin, hoping her neighbours would not guess at her past and denounce her, and she lived out the war with her own work and those of several dada exiles hidden away in a cabinet.

It's customary to see in Höch's postwar art a blithe turn towards an almost decorative abstraction, all vestiges of her radical past fallen away in favour of dizzying arrangements of colour. There is a little truth in this: her palette was now drawn from colour advertisements, and especially from magazines such as Life. But the accusation misses the astonishing complexity of pieces such as her 1967 Industrial Landscape, in which photographs of a crowded swimming pool and the Swiss resort of Lugano are filleted and repurposed to such an extent that they resemble teeming factories and smokestacks. Perhaps only Ernst (whom it seems she never met) achieved quite this level of skill with the scalpel. Besides, there are many instances where motifs from her early work - notably fragments of the female body - reappear with new force and meaning: the grinning mouth of Marilyn Monroe, for example, hovering beside a fish's eye in her Little Sun of 1969.

Höch died in 1978, her place in 20th‑century art history almost, but not quite assured. Postwar histories of dadaism tended to patronise at best; she does not appear at all in Robert Motherwell's 1951 Dada Painters and Poets, and Hans Richter, in 1965, called her "a good girl" with a "slightly nun-like grace". But gradually she snuck into the canon - she was part of the major Dada, Surrealism and their Heritage exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art in 1968 - and scholars and curators have since belatedly recognised that she was both a key dadaist and considerably more: a true pioneer of photomontage and a complex, funny critic of mainstream and art-world misogyny alike. The Whitechapel show reminds us most of all that her innovative presence has survived in the work of later monteurs: in the laconic and unsettling incisions practised by John Stezaker, in the pointed assault on images of women and commodities in the work of Linder Sterling, and more recently in the playful grotesques of the late Polish artist Jan Dziaczkowski. Her keenest insight is to have already seen, almost a century ago, that the profusion of images given us by the mass media might constitute "a new and fantastic field for a creative human being".

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The Nazis branded her a degenerate and the dadaists tried to edge her out. But a new exhibition reveals Hannah Höch as a pioneer of photomontage and a feminist icon. By Brian Dillon

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A collaborative approach to art started by Tunisian artist Hechmi Ghachem in the 1980's

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A collaborative approach to art started by Tunisian artist Hechmi Ghachem in the 1980's

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Funded by the Arts Council England, Tunisian Collaborative Painting UK brought together 20 professional artists to paint together on 5 canvases, in silence. The event took place at Kings Weston House in Bristol and was produced by Luke Palmer and David Black, in association with Karen van Hoey Smith.

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State of the Art - Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat - 1986

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Draw On The Moon | Ai Weiwei And Olafur Eliassons' Interactive Art Project

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Artists Ai Weiwei and Olafur Eliasson's collaborative art project, Moon, creates a shared online canvas, allowing a global audience to leave their individual mark in the form of drawings. Meet the team that brought this groundbreaking platform to life. http://moonmoonmoonmoon.com/ We'll be featuring our favorite "Moon" drawings from our fans - tweet or tag us when you share your drawing!

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Art This Week 175-At Fort Worth Contemporary Arts-Biggs and Collings-Matthew Collings Full Interview

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In this week's episode we visit Fort Worth Contemporary Arts and speak with Matthew Collings, half of the group, Biggs and Collings, about the exhibition Suspicious Utopias. This is the full interview.

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We made some preparatory sketches first. The background was Guy's heterotopian garden. Sinead chose the dystopian burnt out phone line and the birdcage with open door was my representation of utopia, breaking free from so much imposed on us by society. Sinead painted the red sky and her telephone poles. Guy created some gorgeous textures in the foreground. I painted the green shrubs and the birdcage.

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This collage depicts the contrast between the very rich and the very poor. And the pollution that results from products made by the very poor for the rest of the world. How consumerism leads to pollution. From a distance the picture is all rosy and pleasant looking but it's a different story when you look close-up.

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What culture teaches about Utopia | Richard Howells | TEDxCourtauldInstitute

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Why do we bother about beauty, appearance, design, about the way things look? Can the creative process -- the need to create order out of disorder -- teach anything about Utopia? In this fascinating talk, Richard Howells takes us on a journey from Navajo design to philosophy to show what aesthetics can teach about the utopian drive to make the world a better place.

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Digital Painting  - Heterotopian Space (Sherking Abbey)

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Digital Painting  - Heterotopian Space (Sherking Abbey)

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I wanted to capture the beautiful greys and greens of the abbey in my painting. It was more difficult for me to capture the textures at this stage.

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Paintings with gradient backgrounds

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Oil Paintings with gradient backgrounds

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Gradient Paintings

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There were beautiful colours and textures in the abbey. Not only in the building itself but in old pieces of rotten board as well.

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These 5 small mutli-chromatic paintings came about when I started cleaning the brush I used for the bigger painting. There was so much paint on the brush and I tried to clean the brush by dragging it accros paper. It turned into these images which I rather like.

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These 5 small mutli-chromatic paintings came about when I started cleaning the brush I used for the bigger painting. There was so much paint on the brush and I tried to clean the brush by dragging it accros paper. It turned into these images which I rather like.