Ryoji Ikeda’s datamatics [ver.2.0]

I had the distinct pleasure on Monday (and slight post-show-headache) of beholding the very loud, and very sharp audiovisual conjurings of Paris-based, Japanese sound artist Ryoji Ikeda, performing datamatics [ver.2.0].  A sell-out crowd at The Barbican Centre in London sat in silence (except for the occasional woo hoos at rare silent moments) as they were assaulted (in a good way) by data made visual.

A spare, black and white aesthetic (with occasional points of red or blue) featuring dancing vector line work and racing numerical characters moved around with a real sense of purpose/structure. I wanted to believe that it was pure data driving the visuals, like a ghost in the machine, but I suspect most of these were all constructs, ‘inspired’ by data.

I do need to read more about how Ikeda created these compositions, and what that data was behind it. The visuals come second, as I have read, and the music/sounds first. Some of ‘datascapes’ (have I made up a new term?!) were clearly based on astrological coordinates, for example. The positions of stars in our galaxy, were plotted one by one by one, appearing in 3D space as two axis scanned back and forth in the blackness.

For the most part, it was breath taking (AKA awesome!), and ever evolving, but there was a moment in the last quarter of the “performance” (he was there on a laptop), where we saw a kind of recap of the various moments that came before it, which disappointed me. That felt like Ikeda had run out of ideas, and had decided to do that “VJ thing” of resorting to a mashup of all the stuff in the pot. I would have preferred the show to go from beginning to end without any repetition, except for the repetition that was part of the overall vibe.

Anyway, it was inspiring. At times it felt like pure art. At other moments, it felt like vintage vector video games, or like sci-fi space ship screens, and lets not forget to mention the “music”. Glitching, pulsing, beeping, droning, fascinating.

I nearly skipped it because I’ve had too many deadlines lately – so glad I didn’t (note: click on these images to see them BIG, and click here to see the Barbican’s trailer for the show).

Welcome to Dalston: Bang!

Well, it isn’t that bad – really!  This poster mysteriously appeared near our house recently, and I just had to shoot it (no pun intended). It’s a rather cool looking thing – complete with all the requisite metres/scales that are required, presumably, to evaluate one’s prowess with the ol’ pistol. The holes (real bullet holes???) look quite real, but we can only assume we’ve got an artist in our midst. Dalston is the edgy, up and coming, new arty area of London,of course. So we hear. Bang.

The ceramic typography of Stephanie Dearmond

I recently stumbled across the lovely work of Dutch ceramic artist Stephanie Dearmond, but judging from all the press she’s had in the past two years, I’m a bit late to the party!  At any rate, seeing her work, I knew instantly she would the subject of my new post. Her ceramic typographic objects are gleaming white with floral images set onto the surfaces – sometimes on the faces, and sometimes into the extruded depth of the 3D forms. Beautiful!

Stereo.type mobiles by Ebon Heath

Just heard about these unbelieveably cool typographic mobiles. Thanks moo.com for the tip!

They were created by the design office Ebon Heath as gallery pieces, and according to their explanation they are lyrics from songs, poems, and other passages of text “hand cut from tyvec or bristol”. I can only assume “hand cut “means letter by letter with some kind of cutting dies. Cutting these by hand with scissors would likely render the human hand unsuable for the rest of one’s life! Either that or certainly bring on early arthritis! Impressive.

The illustrative lettering of Mario Hugo

Before a recent flight, I picked up the new issue of Wired Magazine (as I always do) at the airport, and among the tasty tidbits, I couldn’t help but notice some very beautifully crafted section titles. They read “Rants”, “Start” and “Play” among others.

Tiny as they were, they looked like they had been carefully cut from paper and lit, casting shadows across themselves from slits and folds (see top image), but they were almost too perfect to be actual physical objects. Then two days later, trolling the internet, I found the artist: Mario Hugo. His work is often hand made (pencil, pens, splatter – even thread) but most certainly enters the digital realm for certain commissions – each, however, walk an ambiguous line for splendid results.

He has done work for Wallpaper magazine, Wired (as mentioned), as well as commissions for all sorts of businesses, boutiques and organizations – illustrative and typographic. Keep up the great work Mario.