JAVIER OLIVARES

Portada para la revista "Peonza".

I’m Javier Olivares, born in Madrid (Spain) in 1964. I’ve been working as comic book artist and professional illustrator since 1985.
As a comic book artist, I’ve worked for magazines such as “Madriz”, “Medios Revueltos” (“Jumbled Media”), “La Maleta” (“The Suitcase”), “Idiota y diminuto” (“Tiny Idiot”), or “Nosotros somos los muertos” (“We Are The Dead”). My works have also been compiled in monograph form such as “Estados Carenciales” (“State of Want”) and “La Caja Negra” (“The Black Box”), both of which were nominated for Best Album at the Salo Internacional del Comic de Barcelona.
I’ve developed also a steady career as children’s stories illustrator, an occupation I feel particularly happy with. My latest book in this field, “Los niÒos tontos” (“The Foolish Children”) was awarded as Valencian Best Book in 2001. I’ve worked also in illustrator capacities for many magazines, such as “El Pais” journal weekly supplement “El Pais de las Tentaciones”, the “Rolling Stone” spanish edition, or popular science magazine “QUO”.
I’ve worked as designer/director on four animated short pieces, two of them commissioned as screening introductions by the “Festival de Cine de Granada” (“Granada’s Film Festival”) with which I’ve been collaborating for the last two years.
Currently, I’m doing a comic book series for a children’s magazine, preparing a couple of book projects, an exhibition, and several children’s book for publication in Mexico and France.
And all of this notwithstanding, sometimes I find the time to go to the movies.

Portada para la revista "Tupataleta".

La princesa y el topo.

La princesa y el topo2.

La princesa y el topo3.

La princesa y el topo4.

Los niños tontos.

Los niños tontos.

El País Semanal.

Tentaciones.

Sandman.

Bono pierde sus gafas. Para Rolling Stone.

La noche de Walpurgis.

Publicidad.

Misterio.

El País Semanal2

Tentaciones2

Quo.

Tentaciones3.

Quo2.

Los niños tontos 3.

Los niños tontos 4.

Los niños tontos 5.

Javier Olivares, nacido en 1964, se dio a conocer al gran público a través de la revista Madriz pero antes llevaba varios años realizando ilustración. Compagina ambos campos también con la animación y la de escritor. Junto a Antonio Trashorras creó en 1994 el sello Malasombra. Ha pasado por las revistas Albanta, Angelitos Negros, BloKes, Boogie, El Maquinista, El Tebeo Veloz, Ganadería Trashumante, Gente Pequeña, Krazy Comics, Metal Hurlant y U entre otras muchas. En Granada su arte pudimos disfrutarlo dentro de las páginas de la revista universitaria El Fringidor. Glenat le ha publicado recientemente el álbum La Caja Negra que nos sirve como recopilatorio de su trabajo.
Por su estilo, marcado por su libertad tanto gráfica como temática, le ha llevado a ser un autor al margen de la parte más comercial del cómic. Hay que leer los Cuentos de la Estrella Legumbre, Tiempo Muerto o El Segador de tus casos. También ha participado en las obras colectivas La historia del Blues de Siniestro Total y Almanaque extraordinario Bardín Baila con la más fea.
DARIO ADANTI
Dario Adanti, nació en 1971 en Buenos Aires. Se vino a España tras publicar en Estados Unidos (The New York Times y PC Magazine) y Argentina. Aquí se dio a conocer con Calavera vuelve a casa y La ballena tatuada pero es ahora en que deja su humor en revistas como El Jueves y Dibus cuando se reconoce su valía. También hace ilustración en revistas y periódicos como El País de las Tentaciones, La Vanguardia, Más Libros o Nosotros somos los muertos. Junto con Barbara Perdiguera (que también ilustra), ha realizado varios cortos de animación como Vacalactica, Minas de cobre o La hora de Hombre Cacto. Es uno de los grandes autores que están renovando el humor en España desde las páginas de el Jueves.
Estos dos autores de reconocido prestigio dentro del cómic estuvieron en Granada con ocasión del 8º Festival Internacional de Jóvenes realizadores de Granada. Javier Olivares por estar en el Comité de selección de los cortos de animación a competición y Dario Adanti como Jurado Internacional en la Categoría de Animación. Por cierto, el premio en animación se lo llevó Hasta los Huesos una magnífica producción mexicana realizada en plastilina.Tuvimos una charla con ambos.

Dario, ¿Antes de venir a España publicó en Argentina?
Dario.- Sí, comencé en una revista que se llamaba Humor, que era una especie de Jueves argentino. Era una revista de humor político. Después también en otra que se llamaba Sexo Humor, donde tenía más libertad para hacer historieta. A continuación trabajé en Página 12 y Clarín donde dibujaba una tira. Clarín, aún siendo de la clase media, es el periódico más vendido en mi país porque tiene el clasificado (anuncios por palabras) más grande. A través de él muchas personas encuentran curro (trabajo). Además hacía un fanzine con unos amigos.

¿Cómo está el cómic en Argentina actualmente?
Antes sólo había dos revistas de las que he hablado antes. Además todo era de la misma editorial. Al cerrar ésta, ya sólo quedaba publicar en prensa. Actualmente la situación es la misma.

Aquí en España tampoco quedan ya revistas.
Javier.- Así es, se perdieron y cada uno tiene su teoría para explicar el por qué de esto. Para mí, es una cuestión complicada. No sólo depende de una razón sino de varias. El hecho es que los autores no publicamos. Por ello, no hay industria que pueda crear un público. Como no hay público no publicamos. Es la típica idea de la pescadilla que se muerde la cola. Necesitaríamos a alguien que rompiera este círculo cerrado.

¿Pero cómo?
Javier.- Creando un público. Un editor que sembrara las bases para los demás y él no beneficiarse. Sería a largo plazo, no con resultados el año próximo. Ninguno hoy por hoy estará dispuesto a ser una especie de mártil.
Dario.- Claro, haría falta un Berenguer de la primera época o un Toutain.
Javier.- Ahora no hay nadie.
Dario.- Pero por otro lado, hay numerosos autores que venden mucho y deberían entrar en una revista mensual.

Pero no sólo no hay revistas sino que se editan escasos álbumes de españoles. ¿Terminarán publicando en otros medios?
Dario.- En Argentina cuando empecé a publicar, la situación era la misma que ahora en España. La profesión la hice en un mercado igual que éste.
Javier.- Es mi mismo caso. No tengo sensación de haber perdido un mercado como le puede pasar a otros autores. Éstos además, de gran nivel, ves que publican en los mismos sitios que tú ahora. Así que debemos admitir que estructuralmente el mercado está así.

¿Ven soluciones a corto plazo?
Javier.- No. La siguiente generación seguirá igual. Esto nos lleva a pensar que hay grandes creadores (dibujantes, guionistas) sin mercado.
Dario. Es extraño (y triste). Cuando hablo con autores americanos tampoco publican en aceptables condiciones. O sea, la situación está generalizada. No cobran mucho los norteamericanos pero sí te pagan un porcentaje en derecho de autores, lo que hace que subiera la cantidad dineraria ganada. Sería difícil que ellos también vivieran sólo del cómic. Realizan otros trabajos como la ilustración o portadas de libros.
Javier.- Así es, autores norteamericanos que publican con cierta regularidad tampoco económicamente viven muy bien. De hecho, según ellos, sobreviven porque publican en varios países. Encontraríamos soluciones también si recibiéramos más ayuda de los periodistas, venderíamos más con los mismos medios. Por eso, en contra de algunos dibujantes, no es cuestión de calidad.
Dario.- Pero los medios, sobre todo gráficos, no se preocupan. Que algunos periódicos nacionales comenten música y no el cómic es absurdo. Desde hace varios años el cómic es parte de la cultura. Me parece una ceguera desde los medios de comunicación.
Javier.- Crear opinión es importante. Por ejemplo, en el programa Lo + Plus que entrevisten a un dibujante importante como Miguelanxo Prado. Al día siguiente en un suplemento cultural aparece lo que ha dicho, seguro que vendería más. Así se llega a conocer. Reconozco que muchos libros o discos los he visto por primera vez a través de una crítica. Y, vas y te lo compras.
Dario. No hay que ser fanático para enterarte de lo que ocurre en otras artes como la música y, sin embargo, sí hay que serlo en cuanto al cómic.
Javier.- De todas formas éste es uno de los factores de muchos que hay. Solucionas esto, pero quedan otros.
Dario. Que llegue a la tele el cómic sería ideal, pero sin embargo, deberíamos aparecer al menos en los suplementos culturales.
Javier.- Habría que tener en cuenta que ahora es minoritario. Si eso lo asumimos, quizás, irían mejor las cosas.
Dario. Es minoritario, vale, pero tiene valores mayoritarios.
Javier.- De acuerdo, no tenemos que verlo como algo minoritario, porque tiene un lenguaje tan fácil que podría ser mayoritario.
Dario.- Sí, pero pertenece a la cultura popular no a la elistista

Claro, es tan obvio esto, que a los aficionados quizás nos irrita que no llegue más lejos.
Dario.- Y más, cuando cada medio es ideal para una cosa. En el cómic tienes plena libertad. Se debe a que no hay industria y entonces no está tan vigilado ideológicamente.
Javier.- Eso es así, al no ser un medio tan aceptado, no está tan seguido. Esto no ocurre en Francia, por ejemplo. Allí se vigila más lo que se está haciendo aquí. Que hubiera industria no estaría mal, porque perderíamos la libertad, pero haría que se publicara más cantidad y calidad. Que haya una industria no sería nada malo. Publicaríamos en revistas canalizadas por ella (con todo lo bueno y malo que tienen) o seguir publicando en revistas underground.

Eso ocurre por ejemplo en el cine, con la industria y el llamado independiente.
Javier.- Lo malo es que nosotros no tenemos esa alternativa. Para ello nos tendríamos que ir a publicar a Francia o Estados Unidos.
Dario.- Esa es una buena solución.

¿Es difícil ser dibujante de tebeos?
Javier.- Los dibujantes de cómic tenemos que dominar diversas facetas como el sentido del tiempo, la composición, el color y ser virtuoso con el lápiz y la pluma. Por ejemplo, el lugar para ubicar los bocadillos supone tener un sentido de la composición, ya que depende de eso. Esto condiciona totalmente el plano en la viñeta.
Dario.- En este caso, cuando empezaba allí por Argentina enseñando mi carpeta, me decían "no" porque se nota que eres un principiante ya que haces los bocadillos muy grandes respecto al dibujo o incluso esto no se va a leer. También en cuanto a la narración.

¿Utilizáis un estilo o técnica diferente a la hora de ilustrar y dibujar cómics?
Javier.- Al principio quería tener varias fórmulas para ilustraciones infantiles, ilustraciones de prensa, posters o cómic entre otras. Quería ser estanco, pero no puede ser. Comienzan a mezclarse unas cosas con otras. Hay elementos o rasgos que van entrelazándose o son permeables, que yo creía impermeables. Me he dado cuenta que una cosa que resuelvo de una forma en una ilustración y después la utilizo en la animación.
Dario.- Para mí, todo te sirve para evolucionar en cualquier trabajo que realizas.

¿Es más gratificante el cómic que otras facetas artísticas?
Dario.- Sí. A veces me encuentro haciendo historietas para fanzines en los que no cobro. Del cómic lo que más me gusta es, aparte de cómo narrar ( la secuencia de viñetas), que el diseño de páginas quede bien.
Javier.- Es más gratificante.

El cómic contiene narrativa, dibujo y diseño. Es como un resumen de otras artes, pero que nace antes: ¿los personajes o la idea?
Dario.- A veces la idea y en otras ocasiones es el personaje.
Javier.- Lo mismo me ocurre a mí.

En cuanto al ámbito de los personajes, os diferencia que Dario tiene personajes fijos mientras que Javier no. ¿Por qué?
Dario.- Porque trabajo en la historieta humorística y aquí se utilizan más. Además tienes que crearle todo un universo alrededor.
Javier.- Eso también tiene que ver con la frecuencia con la que trabajas. Si es puntual, esporádica, entonces no puedes utilizar un personaje fijo, porque este está "muerto" o incluso no te gusta cuando vuelves a él ocho meses después. Debe tener una vida real semanal o mensual. Ahora para la revista Tretze estoy haciendo una serie con personajes fijos. Ahí si estoy utilizando uno. Por cierto, este proceso me cuesta mucho trabajo porque no estoy acostumbrado a utilizarlos.

Pero así tienen la obra muy dispersa, la única solución es recopilarlos en álbumes ¿Os gusta os editen estos recopilatorios en qué aparecen también historietas antigüas o que no os gusten?
Javier.- Lo hago porque a mí me gusta que lo hagan con autores que a mi me gustan. No miro mi criterio sino el del público.
Dario.- Claro, aunque hay cosas que a uno no le gusten.
Javier.- Que no te gusten cosas que hacías antes, es normal. Vas evolucionando.

Por lo que vemos, Javier Olivares utiliza poco el color y Dario sí.
Javier.- No es así. En historieta no lo utilizo. Él sí porque publica en revistas donde te piden color.
Dario. Sin embargo, hago mucha prensa donde pongo blanco y negro. Javier utiliza color para revistas e ilustración infantil.

ALEX GROSS

Ya que empecé "Visión de túnel" poniendo imágenes de Alex Gross (elección caprichosa, sin motivo concreto), aquí va un "post" dedicado a él.

Y no dejéis de visitar su página web: www.alexgross.com.



"His highly crafted and detailed works include both nostalgic imagery of a lost era and a disturbing vision of the modern age. Gross' work reflect such diverse influences as Japanese Woodblock prints, Victorian Advertising Imagery, German 'Degenerate' painting and Gothic Flemish Art".

Fragmento del texto incluído en el catálogo de la exposición "The Decay of The Angel" (2000), en la galería Eral McGrath de Nueva York.

The Decay of the Angel

A continuación, unos fragmentos de la entrevista con Alex Gross aparecida en la excelente revista electrónica Pixelsurgeon.

* Your paintings and illustrations are quite apocalyptic, some of them remind me of tarot cards; do these images you use betray your own vision of the world, of the 21st century – or are they fictions, dark musings?

Some paintings tend to be more about personal issues and experiences than about society or the world around me. For example, “Arrival” and “Departure” are quite autobiographical, dealing with my father’s unexpected death.



In many of my other paintings, I am simply playing with images and ideas that fascinate me, much like a child does when you give him paper and a pencil, in a very unconscious way. This type of piece evolves as I work on it and I like to keep the process free from being too consciously manipulated, or too literal. This is one reason that a lot of contemporary art does not really do it for me. Work that clearly has some political agenda, and relies on a detailed explanation of the exact meaning of the piece, often leaves me cold.



Is my work fiction? No, I would definitely say not. For me, fiction would be a pretty painting of a mountain stream, with some birds and trees – a fantasy piece. Paintings like that hold little interest for me. The world that I live in is both spiritually profound and culturally vapid. It is extremely violent but can also be extremely beautiful. Globalization and technology are responsible for wonderfully positive changes in the world as well as terrible tragedy and homogeneity. This dichotomy fascinates me, and naturally influences much of my work.



* You received a fellowship from the Japan Foundation in 2000, tell us a bit about that and your interest in Japanese art.

Going to Japan for my first time, on vacation in 1998, was a life changing experience for me, in a completely unexpected way. Before that, I was only doing illustration, and not at all happy with that whole scene. My creative energies were directed towards music, but that was proving very frustrating as well. So, I took this trip, without really knowing what I was getting into, and Tokyo just blew my mind. The ‘Blade Runner’ vision of the future was smacking me over the head, and I was not prepared for it. I thought everything had rice paper doors over there. I think I was pretty naïve...

The Twenty

This is a city that has absolutely cornered the market on commercialization of everything. For starters, there are pictures and advertisements for sex and sex clubs wherever you go. It is not an exaggeration to say that on virtually every street in urban city areas, there are these guys holding signs for sex clubs, phone booths with pictures of girls you can call, and assorted sex business imagery. And in areas like Shinjuku you have these long boulevards with enough neon signage to power a small nation. Most baseball teams are named for companies, not cities. Many shops blast announcements out speakers in competition with one another for your eardrums. The list is really endless. It is both fascinating and revolting all at once.



Meanwhile, there is this history of art there that is astonishing. Not only the old woodblock print stuff (which I love) but their commercial art history too. Movie poster design and magazine advertisements there just floored me. And the culture and people are so wonderful. Their attitudes towards others and towards work are pretty much the polar opposite to most Americans’, and I found that really wonderful and energizing. When I came back from my trip, I brought with me some books on movie posters and medicine packaging that were just the coolest things. The combination of those materials and the whole experience from my trip had inspired me massively to start doing some personal work, just for fun really, based on what I had seen and where I had been.



For the next year I painted constantly, and this whole idea of freely mixing imagery that doesn’t normally go together was really exciting to me. There’s no question that that idea came from seeing the ridiculously random mixture of influences in Japan. It was creatively very freeing to me. And I was using all kinds of Japanese imagery in the work. Since this material was really critically important to creating new paintings, I applied for some grants and fellowships that would allow me to go back to Japan and spend additional time there collecting more of this great stuff. I was very fortunate to receive them, and I ended up spending about 9 weeks there on my fellowship. I must have shipped 6 really big boxes of books and other stuff back to the USA. It was a wonderful experience for me and my work certainly benefited as well.



* You seem to be very aware of your genealogy, of where you have come from, your website actually contains a genealogy page – what role does your personal history play in your art?

Well, there’s a couple of reasons why I wanted to do that. First, I think it’s really interesting when I see other artist’s photos of their parents, siblings or childhood. It makes me feel more of a connection to them and their work. It’s just a really cool experience and I thought people would enjoy seeing where I come from, and who I come from too. Another reason is that I absolutely love old photos and vintage pictures. In fact, my whole website is designed to more or less ape an advertisement from 120 years ago.



The Victorian Era is the time when I would have liked to live. The photos on my site of my parents and grandparents are obviously not that old, but they still really reflect the times that they lived, and I find it interesting. And since, out of all my grandparents and parents, only my mother is still alive, it is a loving tribute to the rest of them.

* You are a teacher of art – tell us a bit about that and also how important do you think the role of the educator is in furthering the appreciation of contemporary art.

Yes, I have been teaching at Art Center, my alma mater, for over ten years now. It has been a wonderful opportunity for me. The small income that it provides has always been helpful, but the main benefit of being a teacher is the inspiration that I get from being around so much talent on a daily basis. I have been fortunate enough to have such gifted people as Jeff Soto, Justin Wood, Saelee Oh, Daniel Lim, Erik Sandberg and many many others. I got to watch their work develop and was fortunate to be a part of the process. Being a teacher, I learn so much, about art in general, and about myself. And it is an important way to keep in touch with a lot of what’s going on in the art world currently, as well as on the streets.

Shokei

It would be very easy for me to lose touch with most of that if I weren’t teaching at Art Center, since I am a little bit hermetic. Students bring in books, magazines, comic ‘zines and other stuff to show me what they are into and what’s going on today. They invite me to their shows and let me know about artists and events that I probably wouldn’t otherwise know about. I am very grateful to have had this opportunity and I plan to continue teaching as long as I can. Regarding the second part of your question, I don’t think that education is in any way necessary to appreciate good art. I hope that my work will appeal to anyone with an imagination, regardless of whether or not they have ever studied art. In general, I feel that most fine art educations are pompous and loaded with lots of jargon and doublespeak. The best instructors at Art Center teach how to make exciting and interesting work, and how to think more creatively.



* How did you get into illustration for magazines. And what advice, if any, would you offer to illustrators who are seeking to break into the market?

Well, I went to Art Center as an Illustration major, and that is the department in which I am teaching, along with other gallery artists like the Clayton Brothers and Aaron Smith. At Art Center, most figurative painting is done in our department because the smaller Fine Art department focuses mostly on installation work and on concept in general, but not really on representational painting too much. I did lots of commercial work for over a decade, but now I have really phased that out. I only do a handful of illustrations anymore. My focus is on my own personal work. I don’t really have advice for illustrators other than to say ‘develop your own personal voice as best you can, and people will be drawn to it if it is real, it is you, and it is creative.’ It seems to me that most interesting illustrators wind up pursuing gallery work sooner or later, since their work is often much more compelling and accessible to people than a lot of the “high” art that we read about in magazines.



* In your painting Matasaburo of The Wind the now very familiar site of aeroplanes crashing appears, but in this case they seem to be falling out of the sky against a blackened sun – I love this painting, I find it fascinating – although I understand that some artists hate people asking them to explain their work can you tell us anything about this painting – what inspired it?

I don’t hate being asked about meanings in my work. I absolutely understand the urge to do it and as an art lover I have also wanted to know about other people’s intentions in their work. However, I do feel that it is better to let the viewer bring his/her own ideas when they look at a painting. Too much info from me would rob them of the chance to feel what this painting says to them. What I will say about this piece, is that I owe a great deal of it to the great Japanese artist and designer Shinohara Katsuyuki. He is one of my favorite artists ever. He was an illustrator who did several incredible posters for Japanese underground theater in the 60s and 70s. Matasaburo of The Wind is the name of a traditional Japanese fable, and also was the name of a play for which he did the poster. The main character in that poster is the same woman that I painted in my painting. Often, the genesis of a painting for me will be finding an image like that one, which really inspires me to take it and do something with it. I have borrowed imagery from gothic artists like Rogier Van der Weyden all the way to modern artists like Shinohara, Yokoo Tadanoori and George Tooker, to name a few. Shinohara is still alive and goes by the name KUMA now. He does not do posters anymore, but is a well known sculptor in Japan and often appears on television. And as a postscript, I want to mention that both Matasaburo and Ascent/Descent are paintings of mine that have crashing planes. Both pieces were completed long before 9/11 and therefore are not referencing that subject whatsoever. Of course, It would be impossible today to paint the same image without conjuring up that infamous and tragic event.



* The juxtaposition you achieve between that old world renaissance feeling and the stark post-modern reality we are living in is very effective – to what degree does you choice of medium mirror this – for example, do you use both brush and computers.

All of my gallery work is either Oils or mixed media, which include oils, acrylics and some collage. I do use the computer quite a lot in the sketch phase. But in the finished product it is not really being used. Artists like Justin Wood and Erik Sandberg use a lot of 3D computer generated imagery in their final product, combining it collage-style with painting and other tangible processes that I admire. This has certainly influenced me and here and there I have used the computer in a similar manner from time to time. A few of my paintings where I used the computer extensively in the development phase and actually tried to retain that flat graphic look in the finish can be found on the previous works pages on my site. My Own Death, Arrival and Departure are three in particular that come to mind.



posted by ANTONIO TRASHORRAS.

ROCKWELL KENT

Book burners, 1951.

Vamos con uno de los grandes: Rockwell Kent. Este talento multifacético (periodista y ensayista, además de pintor y agitador social) hizo de su activísima y viajera existencia su mejor obra. Además, enriqueció el arte estadounidense con una cantidad ingente de grabados, lienzos, dibujos y litografías a caballo entre el simbolismo a lo William Blake y el paisajismo reconcentrado de ecos místico-románticos (porqué no, Friedrich... no en cuanto a técnica, pero sí en aliento). Un monstruo cuyo legado, obviamente, excede el limitado espacio que aquí puedo otorgarle, pero que, aun así, trataré de presentaros lo mejor posible con la siguiente selección gráfica.

Greyhound. 1931.

"If to the viewer's eyes, my world appears less beautiful than his, I'm to be pitied and the viewer praised".

Rockwell Kent

Mother and Child. 1919.

Esta biografía la he extraído de la página web de la Plattsburgh State University de New York (www.organizations.plattsburgh.edu/museum/kentkent.htm)

Artist, author, and political activist, Rockwell Kent (1882-1971) had a long and varied career. During his lifetime, he worked as an architectural draftsman, illustrator, printmaker, painter, lobsterman, ship's carpenter, and dairy farmer. He was born in Tarrytown, New York, was well educated in art. He did his first significant work at Monhegan Island, Maine. Later he traveled widely, doing other landscape work. He also did a great deal of work illustrating working people, serving as an illustrator for The Masses, a popular left-wing magazine.

At Peace. 1940.

Kent had an unusually long and thorough training as an artist. He was a student at the Horace Mann School in New York City and subsequently studied architecture at Columbia University, toward the end of which he felt a strong inclination toward painting and took up the study of art under William Merritt Chase at the Shinnecock Hills School.

Starry Night. 1933.

He studied later at the New York School, under Robert Henri and Kenneth Hayes Miller, and finally as an apprentice to Abbott Thayer at Dublin, New Hampshire. Henri encouraged him to go to Monhegan Island where Kent painted on his own. He was absorbed in the awesome power of the environment; nature's timeless energy and contrasting forces influenced his work throughout his lifetime. His early and lasting relationship with the sea was portrayed again and again in his work.

Nightmare. 1941.

In 1902, he entered Chase’s on a scholarship and by 1908 he had his first one man art show and had married Kathleen Whiting. Together they explored Monhegan Island, MA, Newfoundland, Vermont and the Adirondacks, NY.

Deep water

Approach in 1926 by publisher R. R. Donnelley to produce an illustrated edition of Richard Henry Dana's Two Years Before the Mast, Kent suggested Moby Dick instead. Published in 1930, the deluxe edition sold out immediately; a lower-priced Random House edition became a Book-of-the-Month Club selection. A previously obscure book, Moby Dick was rediscovered by critics in the 1920s. The success of the Rockwell Kent illustrated edition was a factor in its becoming the recognized classic it is today.

Prometheus, 1931.

Kent both wrote and illustrated several books; Wilderness: A Journal of Quiet Adventure in Alaska was published in 1920. Among his other works were Voyaging Southward from the Strait of Magellan (1924); Salamina (1934) about Greenland; and two autobiographies, This is My Own (1940) and It's me O Lord (1955).


And women must weep. 1927-28.

A political activist, Rockwell Kent championed social causes from the 1930's until his death. Although Kent insisted that he never belonged to the Communist party, his consistent support of radical causes contributed to a decline in his artistic popularity during the 1940s and 1950s. In the latter decade, the State Department revoked his passport.

Twilight of Man. 1926.

Kent sued for its reinstatement and emerged victorious in landmark Supreme Court case. He became very popular in the Soviet Union, and in 1957, half a million Russians attended an exhibition of his work. Subsequently, he donated eighty paintings and eight hundred prints and drawings to the Russian people. In 1967, he was awarded the Lenin Peace Prize.

Brewster Coachworks

The graphic art tradition in which Rockwell Kent worked was not that of the Post-Impressionist or abstract International style, but rather an older and somewhat English style. Hogarth, Blake, Constable, the Pre-Raphaelites, and the British illustrators were his artistic antecedents. His work is most frequently identified with that of the American Social Realists and the great muralists of the 1920s and 1930s.


Sally. 1945-49.

Kent's figure-studies show with what perseverance he worked to perfect his draftsmanship and his ability to portray the human form in any pose or manner; his architectural training enabled him to draw objects accurately and convincingly.

Dear Ancient.

His experience as a carpenter and builder and his familiarity with tools served him well when he took up the graphic process. His blocks were marvels of beautiful cutting, every line deliberate and under perfect control. The tones and lines in his lithography were solidly built up, subtle, and full of color.

Voyaging. 1924.

He usually made preliminary studies- old-mater style- for composition or detail before starting on a print. Nothing was vague or accidental about his work; his expression was clear and deliberate. Neither misty tonalities nor suggestiveness were to his taste. He was a highly objectified art - clean, athletic, sometimes almost austere and cold. He either recorded adventures concretely, or dealt in ideas. His studio was a model of the efficient workshop: neat, orderly, with everything in its place. His handwriting, the fruit of his architectural training, was beautiful and precise.

Venus and Adonis. 1936.

Kent stands out in American art in his use of symbolism. Humanity was the hero in most of his prints, which are symbolic representations of certain intuitions about life's destiny and the meaning of existence. Many of the prints seem to depict humanity in a struggle to capture ultimate reality, to penetrate into the mystery of the dark night of the universe, and to discover the reasons for existence. Over the Ultimate is a tragic but, at the same time, heroic conception. Consider the mood of wonder in Starlight, of terror in The End, the exultation of Pinnacle.

Ex Libris. 1923.

The fact that Rockwell Kent never worked in the tradition of the Post-Impressionists had considerable effect on critical and public response to his work. In the 1920s, he was a rising young printmaker; and in the 1930s, he reached his greatest popularity.

Mala, 1933.

In 1936, the magazine Prints conducted an extensive and elaborate survey on the practitioners of graphic art in the United States. Kent came out far ahead of all others as the most widely known and successful printmaker in the country. Few artists have experienced such fluctuations in the public esteem of their work as has Kent, from extravagant praise to fanatic denunciation, usually based on nonaesthetic considerations or on a misunderstanding of the real import of his prints and paintings.


Come,come, Be patient; we must bring you to our captain. 1936.

He was a victim of McCarthyism during the 1950s. As a devotee of realistic art, he had also fallen from popular favor. When abstract modern art became better known and accepted in the 1940s, Kent's popularity suffered a commensurate decline. This fall from grace was compounded when he began to espouse unpopular leftist causes; his work was denounced for political reasons. Only now do we have the perspective to look at his work with a receptive and unprejudiced eye.


Clover Fields—Asgaard. 1939-40.

Few artists become legends in their own time, but Rockwell Kent has been acclaimed as such and remains one of the great twentieth-century American artists. Persuaded against an art career by his family, he enrolled in the Columbia University School of Architecture in 1900. Still motivated by an interest in art, Kent took summer and night courses at Chase’s New York School and the New York School of Art.

Wayside Madonna. 1927.

A great artist-adventurer, Kent’s travels took him throughout America and to countries around the world including Ireland, Cape Horn, Labrador, Greenland, Denmark, Sweden and Russia. Kent was particularly interested in Russia and his outspoken socialist politics caused controversy throughout his life and cost him his passport in the 1950’s. A court battle restored his right to travel, and he eventually gave his own collection of his paintings, drawings and graphic works to the Soviet Union.

American Export Lines.

In 1967 he received the Lenin Peace Prize and donated part of the award to North Vietnam. In testimony to his greatness as an American artist, his obituary appeared on the front page of the New York Times in 1971.

Sea and Sky. 1931.

posted by ANTONIO TRASHORRAS.

TIM BISKUP

Beat Baby. 2001.

Biografía de este artista californiano incluída en su página web (www.timbiskup.com):

Tim Biskup was raised on Disneyland, Rat Fink, badly dubbed Japanese Sci-Fi flicks, punk rock, skateboarding and underground comics. In the mid-eighties he left Otis/Parsons School of Design to seek his fortune in the world of illustration. His career included designing for skateboard companies and record labels. (a highlight being his work for Ralph Records and his heroes the Residents).

Black Helium. 2004.

His obsession with the art of Mary Blair led him to a career in animation. This career has involved him in countless cartoons, including his own short "Freddy Seymore's Amazing Life" for Nickelodeon and background supervisor for Cartoon Network's "Time Squad." In 1998, Biskup began hosting and curating the Burning Brush auctions, has been in a vast array of exhibitions and has currently launched a line of tee shirts and gift items under the GAMA-GO label.

Alphabestiary. 2003.

posted by ANTONIO TRASHORRAS.

ORIGIN ISSUE

"Visión de túnel" pretende ser un "blog" dedicado a las Artes Visuales, pero concebido del modo más austero posible: mucha imagen, poco texto.



Mi idea es convertir este espacio en un escaparate "on line" en el que, por un lado, pueda ir reuniendo cuantas pinturas, dibujos, fotografías o simplemente imágenes atractivas me vaya encontrando en mi deriva por la Red; y, por otro, descansar un poco de mi labor diaria, que no es otra que escribir, escribir y escribir.

¿Qué tipo de ilustraciones iré incluyendo aquí? Pues sirvan como primeros ejemplos las imágenes que rodean este texto, pertenecientes todas ellas a un artista llamado Alex Gross, de quien iré colocando aquí bastantes más obras en días sucesivos.



De momento, eso es todo. Suficiente para un primer "post" en el cual me había propuesto no escribir apenas. De hecho, insisto, con esa intención nace "Visión de túnel", el de convertirse en una pura galería virtual, de visión agradable (si se comparten mis gustos estéticos, claro) y con los apenas comentarios. Ya veremos si un escritor compulsivo como yo es capaz de cumplir tal objetivo. Se trata de dar algo de descanso al cerebro mediante el placer de las retinas. A gozarlo...



posted by ANTONIO TRASHORRAS.

CRAIG LAROTONDA

Mistress of The Innerworld.

SOLO LIENZOS, NO ARTE COMERCIAL.

Craig LaRotonda's sensual artwork graces the walls of private collectors' homes and cutting edge web sites as well as the covers of books and national magazines. His distinctive art appears in the full-length motion picture " Traffic" 2000 (dir. Steven Soderbergh, starring Michael Douglas) as well as the film, "The Heartbreakers" 2000 (w/Gene Hackman and Sigourney Weaver.) His work is particularly known in the film community where private collectors include director Michael Lindsay-Hogg and actors Gedde Watanabe, Kirsten Dunst and Johnny Depp.

The Shepherd.

Craig's influences include the internationally renowned illustrator Alan Cober, with whom he studied at S.U.N.Y. at Buffalo where he received his B.F.A. in Art. After 10 years of working as an artist on the east coast, Craig and his partner, Kim Maria moved to San Francisco where they opened the intriguing and exotic, Revelation Gallery. LaRotonda's eerie and contemplative paintings have been exhibited in Hollywood, New York, Santa Monica, Detroit, Atlanta, Scottsdale, Buffalo and San Francisco.

Ceremony.

Guile and the Beacon



Hermonkulese.

An Odyssey of Unknown Magnitude.

Eve and The Serpent.

Vision of Grace.

The Reincarnation of Rumplestiltskin.

The Wormlings.

A Twist of Fate.

Mercurial Circumstance.

Behold These Tears.

Walking out the door of his studio in San Francisco, Craig LaRotonda comes upon a small, dead bird. Only the faintest wisp of white feathers is visible upon the poor creature's seemingly reptilian skin. The bird looks like a dandelion that has been used in a game of "he loves me, he loves me not," abandoned by a tomboyish young girl who discovers a diversion of greater interest prior to learning an answer to her question. Its craning neck gives the impression of a final struggle following the fall from the nest, however brief, prior to the inevitable expiration of life.

LaRotonda rushes back into his studio, selecting an empty, lidded jar from a shelf in his workspace. Outside, he respectfully picks up the bird, placing it in the jar and sealing the lid. Following a few short weeks on a sunlit windowsill, all that will remain of the bird will be its tiny, fragile skeleton, and within a year, this skeleton will be immortalized in one of LaRotonda's unique pieces of artwork.

While Craig LaRotonda's first passion is oil painting, he has also created numerous assemblages, illustrations and sculptures, often in collaboration with his partner, Kim Maria, and just as often utilizing found pieces of all shapes, sizes, and origins. Since moving to San Francisco nearly five years ago, LaRotonda and Maria opened and continue to run Revelation Studios, a combined fine art and commercial studio. With more than twenty-five group and solo exhibitions in San Francisco, Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Atlanta and New York to his credit, LaRotonda is the embodiment of a working artist.

Although not fond of categorization, LaRotonda considers his painting a mix of expressionism and surrealism. "My paintings explore the unspeakable nature of consciousness. I think reality is much more than what we perceive with the five senses. I'm captivated by the spaces in between, like the passage between life and death, which seems to play continuously in my work."

Raised in suburban Buffalo, New York, LaRotonda studied art with renowned illustrators Alan Cober and Jerry Pickney at the State University of New York at Buffalo. There, he honed his drawing skills, which he utilizes as the fundamental basis of his work, often conceptualizing individual pieces within the image through metaphor while always studying the subject with a mindful eye.

"One of my biggest influences in art has been photographer Joel Peter Witkin. His work absolutely floors me. The way in which he incorporates both beauty and grotesque elements in one piece is positively brilliant. I think he's one of the most exciting contemporary artists."

After earning his BFA, LaRotonda continued producing work in his hometown until 1997, when he moved San Francisco with his partner Kim, and his faithful dog Zed. LaRotonda's Revelation Studios is a short flight (or a 6 and a half hour drive) from Hollywood, and many of his works of art found their way to tinsel-town. As a regular installation at Los Angeles' La Luz de Jesus Gallery, LaRotonda's work has attracted the attention of private collectors and celebrities alike.

His paintings and collaborative sculptures are hanging in the homes of actors Kirstin Dunst and Johnny Depp, as well as director Michael Lindsey-Hogg. LaRotonda's work has also recently appeared in three major motion pictures through his relationship with Film Art LA. His triptych The Ascension, a stark image depicting a seated man peering intently at the viewer, appears behind Dennis Quaid's desk in the Academy Award winning film Traffic, and three additional pieces were used in Sigourny Weaver and Gene Hackman's 2001 film Heartbreakers.

Raised in the Roman Catholic faith, LaRotonda has since studied Buddhist, Islamic and Hindu texts in the search for insights into the connection of the soul to the creative energies of the universe. He believes that his ability to create comes from a source outside of the ego, beyond the self. In eastern metaphysics, the self fully realized is something infinite. All aspects of life, from the food we eat to the way we dance, are potentially enhanced through meditative introspection and a focus on simply being, thus providing expressions of the divine in every action we undertake.

Such introspection is prevalent in LaRotonda's work. His subjects often seem to be turning inward, perhaps searching for enlightenment. Since his subjects seldom interact directly with the viewer, LaRotonda's paintings turn the viewer into a voyeur, peering into a private, meditative moment in time. It is no coincidence that while working in his studio, LaRotonda shuts out the distractions of everyday life and focuses with a meditative precision on the work at hand. "When I'm in the studio, I always have the stereo on. I'm really influenced by music, from old jazz to Indian classical music. The thing I am moved by is passion. I listen to long trance types of music, like Pakistani singer Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. It can really heighten the mood."

Though LaRotonda has abandoned many of the precepts of the Catholicism, he maintains a profound respect for the Renaissance masters' depiction's of Christ and other religious figures. Several of his striking and profoundly enigmatic compositions employ echoes of religious iconography, imbued with a sacred, mysterious and dreamlike quality. The focal point of many pieces center around the head of his subjects, which are often adorned with crowns or halos, reflecting the presence of thoughtfulness or the attainment of inner peace. In his more recent work, LaRotonda replaces pious humans with monkeys as a metaphor for the evolution of human consciousness.

His subjects vary from portraits of a never photographed eastern mystic (Mahavatar Babaji) to circus freaks, from regal simians (I'm A Monkey Too) to self-portraits undergoing an arthropodal metamorphosis. In an ongoing series of mummy paintings, LaRotonda explores his subjects as an artifact of the way we have lived in the past, and how human remains serve to illustrate the passage of time, as well as our place in time as individuals, another seminal theme of his work. Indeed, the abstract settings often utilized by the artist gives the impression of transcending time. "I see my work as transportation for the mind, rooted neither in time or place."

ALEX GROSS

Ya que empecé con Alex Gross (elección caprichosa, sin motivo concreto), aquí van otros cuantos cuadros suyos.

He aquí lo que otros dicen sobre Gross (siento no traducir, pero eso sería más trabajo que escribir algo yo, y eso es lo que pretendo, recordad, escribir):



"His highly crafted and detailed works include both nostalgic imagery of a lost era and a disturbing vision of the modern age. Gross' work reflect such diverse influences as Japanese Woodblock prints, Victorian Advertising Imagery, German 'Degenerate' painting and Gothic Flemish Art". Fragmento del texto incluído en el catálogo de la exposición "The Decay of The Angel" (2000), en la galería Eral McGrath de Nueva York.