Found Art – Page 9

So What Does My Smog Check Have In Common With Michelangelo?

November 30, 2016 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) Detail, Creation of Adam, ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican, Rome, 1508-1512. Fresco by Michelangelo. Or is it?

Notice anything odd about the iconic Renaissance painting above?

Hey history buffs: Is it possible Italian master sculptor/painter Michelangelo stopped in to get his car smog checked just before he painted the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? I mean, is it at all conceivable? Hear me out.

On my own recent mandatory visit to the Smog Shop, I found myself so hateful of having to be there, and stay there, that I took out my camera to “play” in the waiting room. My eyes fixated on these beautiful patterns and marks in the old painted, cracked, cement floor. All these gorgeous textures and colors — I was mesmerized. (Pics #2, #3, #4, #5). I suddenly realized why they were so meaningful to me: they were (unplanned) modern day recreations of background (sky) images in famous tramadol historical “frescoes” like those of Michelangelo.

So for the fun of it, with the help of Photoshop, I replaced the original crumbling sky in the “Creation of Adam” panel (Pic #6) with a shot of the Smog Shop floor. (Pic #2). So Pic #1 is a fraud.

I hope Michelangelo doesn’t mind my messing with his masterpiece — I suspect he’s cool with it — cuz after all, he’s the one who famously said, “I’m not a painter, I’m a sculptor.”

P.S. – Big fan of his in “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.”

(Pic #2) Detail, smog shop floor, waiting room.

(Pic #3 and #4) Detail, smog shop floor, cashier line. Yes, those are my toes.

(Pic #5) Detail, smog shop floor, restroom.

(Pic #6) Original image, authentic background, Creation of Adam, Sistine Chapel.

(Pic #7) Smog shop in Westlake, California.

Yeah, Museums Are Cool, But…Brooklyn Streets Totally Crush It

September 30, 2016 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) Detail from an elaborate block-long mural in the Bushwick section of Brooklyn

The streets of Brooklyn offer miles and miles of eye-popping art and design — and it’s all free to see.

Last week I mentioned to the concierge at my hotel in NYC that I was a fan of really good graffiti, and he said, “Brooklyn has the best.” As an exceptional concierge should, he nailed it. There wasn’t nearly enough time, but he guided me through blocks and blocks of pure Brooklyn creativity. Wall after wall — covered with clever works of art — or, in some cases, freestyle vandalism.

Oddly, I find myself drawn to the layers of defacing as much as the beautiful renderings underneath. To me, the more “in your face,” the better. I was as fascinated by the trashed up doorways (see below) as I was with the well-planned, strategically designed, site specific ambien murals, like the one above. I totally love the way artists incorporate electrical boxes, window sills, air conditioners, and unkempt cables into their overall compositions. Sometimes, it’s even hard to tell what’s real and what’s not. (See “Trompe L’oeil”).

Bushwick has long been a working class neighborhood, and now it is suddenly cool. And colorful. Dozens of art studios and galleries pepper the neighborhood, and much of the public art you see on the street is created by the artists in “The Bushwick Collective,” an open-air gallery of street art centered at the corner of St. Nicholas Avenue and Troutman Street.

Check out the “walking tours” and self-guided apps — Brooklyn just may be the hottest place to see great art. Click here for more on the “Walking tour of Bushwick street art” Click here to view the “Self-guided (app) tour.” From poignant and political, to simply whimsical — prepare to be blown away.

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Real-life ECO-ART From Nature’s Tiniest Builder

August 31, 2016 by Lonnie Lardner

(Pic #1) Mother hummer steals my discards for her own functional art installation. Photo by Josh Kaplan, 2016.

A 2-ounce feathered thief recycles my work for her own.

Like many artists, I hate most of what I do. I will start out with great enthusiasm, craft a piece for hours or days, worry over each brush stroke, each last detail and then, realize I hate every single drop of paint. My rational mind knows that there is no such thing as a wasted artistic experience. My logical mind tells me that even if I didn’t come up with something I liked, the process is important. I acknowledge I always learn something, either technical or emotional, from each time I try to create something. But those considerations always seemed to take a back seat to the reality that I HATE what I made, and it was a colossal waste of time. At least that was true until yesterday.

Sometime last month I had been working on a piece, sitting outside enjoying the sunshine and the birds chirping. I had taken one of Josh’s photos, and was coloring over the top of it. And as so often happens, I tore it up at the end, lamenting the hours of my life I will never get back.

Apparently though, not all the pieces of torn up art made it to the trash can — some cialis floated away in the breeze — and turned up somewhere amazing.

(Pic #2) Closeup of hummingbird nest, with sewn-in scraps of torn matte card stock.

This is our most recent hummingbird mother, (Pic #1) sitting stoically atop the nest she painstakingly built to shelter her eggs. It is made of leaves, and twigs, using spider webs for glue. But look closely and you can see that there is something else. (Pic #2) Mama bird somehow found the scraps of my discarded art, and used them to help build her nest.

I know it’s silly, but when I saw this it finally made sense to me. No artistic endeavor is ever wasted. Ever. The end result may not be what we had in mind, but as artists, we don’t always get to choose how something we create is interpreted, judged, or used.

Maybe this little story won’t help you next time you spend hours on something that winds up committed to the trash heap. But I think from here on, I will consider the long game when approaching my art, my life — when a tiny scrap of paper can become the foundation for a much bigger project, in a way smaller world.

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(Pic #3) Sketching by the scene of the crime. / Mama bird lives (and makes art) in our overgrown bougainvillea.