Je n’aime pas (“I do not like”), is the name of a collaborative art installation by Hern Worsley and Nur Moo which opened on Friday, February 9th, 2018 (with a second opening event planned for Saturday, February 10th, 2018 from 16:00 SLT) at DaphneArts, curated by Angelika Corral and Sheldon B.
Described as a conceptual piece, the installation features a build over three levels by musician, builder and artist Hern, within which a series of images by photographer Nur Moo are displayed. Mur is described as having returned to Second Life in the notes accompanying the installation, and I gather Je n’aime pas is something of a celebration of this fact.
Visits begin inside a building within the installation, on its lowest level. Before proceeding, make sure to observe the viewing instructions displayed in the dialogue box in the top right corner of your screen. In particular, make sure you have your viewer’s Advanced Lighting Model (ALM) enabled via Preferences > Graphics or you risk missing details. There is art on the walls inside the building – but frankly, I’m not sure if the photography is Nur’s or Hern’s or someone else’s.
A set of white arrows line the floor outside, encouraging people to step out into the larger structure. This exudes a modern approach to architecture: great steel beams, arms pentagonal floor sections, and great glass panels. Some are designed by Hern, some are from other creators he has used in building the installation. Central to this is a huge mesh vase, while from the walls hang panels with animated images.
At the foot of the vase sculpture sits a teleport on an easel that leads up to the middle level. this is where having ALM becomes particularly important. Without it, none of the images projected onto the flat wall panels, the greeble boards, cubes and floor will not be visible. Two more teleport boards sit on easels in the centre of this floor: one up, one down. Go up, and you become part of the installation yourself, courtesy of a trampoline.
This is a difficult installation to quantify. In some ways it likely to be reflective of its name for some; for others it may well be a curious mystery. Conceptual art is art in which the idea(s) involved in the work take precedence over any traditional aesthetic. As such, this is an installation that needs to be considered as a whole, and not so much as a sum of its parts. given this, how we consider Je n’aime pas is down to individual interpretation – and I’ll leave this to you to determine.
Cica Ghost opened her new installation 50 Cats early in February 2018. Following on from Bird People, which presented something of a conundrum (see here for more), this is an altogether more light-hearted piece, offering a little tongue-in-cheek fun.
As a strap-line, the installation uses a quote by novelist and short story writer Bobbie Ann Mason, One day I was counting the cats and I absent-mindedly counted myself. It’s from her first published novel from 1982, Shiloh and Other Stories, although beyond the reference to counting cats, this doesn’t appear to have a deeper meaning for the installation – or at least, not one I could fathom.
A visit begins in the south-west corner of a sandy island. Almost entirely devoid of trees, this little island has a ring of houses, tall and thin with pitched roofs, surrounding its lone hill. It is atop the hill, with its wooden fence crown, that the cats can be found. And there really are fifty of them.
They are standing, sitting, lying down, rolling on the ground, chasing butterflies, watching one another, washing – doing all the things cats do. Some look happy, many look a little nervous, some have a look of pathos in their eyes, as if asking to be taken home and shown a little love. None of them show the slightest interest ion the two trees in their garden nor the dustbins occupying a corner, despite the latter oft being associated with stray cats. For human visitors however, a click on the lid of one of the bins might generate interest and raise a chuckle.
In a similar nature to the dustbins, there are a number of “bunny cars” – some of which can be touched for animations as well. These are also fun to play with, and grab the attention. Also to be found on the fence and on some of the buildings are Cica’s little cartoon stick people. And do keep an eye out for the mice; they are as captivating as the cats.
50 Cats is a wonderfully light-hearted build offers fun and smiles. For those who love cats, and wish to respond to the heartfelt looks of wanting to be taken home an loved, each one is available for sale. Just right-click to buy a copy; all can be resized to suit personal needs.
Kimmy LittleBoots is a highly regarded second Life photographer whose work graces many Flickr groups – and is often selected as a banner image for those groups. Specialising in avatar studies, she works in both colour and black-and-white, covering a broad spectrum of moods and settings, from the seemingly every day through to the sensual, to emotive self-studies.
Throughout February 2018, a small sampling of Kimmy’s work can be viewed at Artful Expressions gallery, curated by Sorcha Tyles. Simply entitled An Exhibition in Black and White, it features seven studies, each one of which embodies a specific feeling or condition in a beautifully evocative manner – a mouseover or right-click for Edit will reveal the title of each.
Each of the pieces on display is worth an essay in its own right; there is a richness of expression and depth of sentiment in each which is captivating. So much so that I found myself repeatedly drawn back to each image time and again, repeatedly drawn into its story.
In this, the use of black and white photographs is a masterful stroke. Being monochrome, the images are from the outset more easily seen as a whole statement. Yes, we are obviously drawn to the central figure in each, but as there are no strong colours either in the background or off to one side or the other, so we are not distracted into focusing on them. Instead, we are encouraged to see each picture as a whole, to appreciate the balance between figure and setting more evenly, taking in everything as a single expression of mood, thought, or condition. Thus, each image is brought to life far more effectively than had each been rendered in colour, drawing us ever more deeply into each one.
Exhibition in Black and White really does speaks for itself, although I’d perhaps suggest a title plaque for each would be of benefit, given how closely image and title are linked. For those with an interest in avatar studies and SL photography, it is an exhibition not to be missed, and I strongly encourage a visit to Artful Expressions to witness it. And while there, do take time to explore the gallery’s garden, which now features a cosy little beach side café offering a quiet corner in which to relax.
DiXmiX Gallery, curated by Dixmix Source, currently featured three exhibitions of art respectively by Titus Palmira, Gaus (Cicciuzzo Gausman) and Burk Bode. While all three are entirely individual in nature, two of them might also be seen as overlapping a little, if not in theme, then in broad approach.
The longest running of the three – and potentially due to end soon – is Dark Underbelly by Titus Palmira. Occupying the upper White Gallery level, it presents some twelve self-studies designed to convey very focused feelings, as indicated by their respective titles. As might be suspected from the exhibition’s title, some of these feelings sway towards the darker side of our personality: self disapproval, inner demons, anger, with confusion and uncertainty sitting more to the edge of such darker emotions. Others within the selected images express something of the darker side of life – voyeurism, staking and hiding behind masks.
Most of the images are presented in monochrome; this makes the conveyance of their emotion more effective than had they been in colour. Conversely,where colour is present, our emotional response is also deepened by the strong contrast the colour presents to the surrounding monochrome images. So with Ugly On The Inside, for example, there is a sense of recoiling away from the image, a reaction which may not have been felt were it one among many colour images or, conversely, presented in monochrome alongside the rest. Similarly, the use of colour in Confusion (a Default State), evokes a greater sense of identification with a confused state of mind.
Humour also pays a part here as well – as seen in Before My Morning Coffee. But the truth is that all of the twelve images are so perfectly framed and presented, each one carries more than a spark of identification for the observer; I’ve little doubt anyone looking upon many of these images will fail to feel a tingling of subjective recognition, and inner nod of, “Yes, I’ve felt this…” Whilst elsewhere, we can objectively appreciate the mood and feeling each image expresses. For me, both subject response and objective appreciation come together in Don’t Tell Me the Moon is Shining (above) – a fabulous piece evoking something we have perhaps all felt: that moment of calm before our anger explodes in a destructive burst of temper.
We’re all likely familiar with the expression “the eyes are the windows of the soul”. Where it originates from is unimportant, but it perhaps has its roots in an observation by Marcus Tullius Cicero, Imago animi Vultus est, indices oculi eius intentio (literally, “the countenance (face) is the portrait of the soul, and the eyes mark its intentions”) – and it is this more rounded expression which I would suggest applies to the second of the exhibitions reviewed here: Le regard de l’âme (literally, “the soul’s gaze”), by Gaus, and displayed in the ground floor Black Gallery.
On the one hand – and most simply – the faces of our avatars are their most expressive element – just as our faces are in the physical world. Through the care we put into crafting them, shaping mouth, chin, nose, ears, and eyes, we imbue our avatars with an identity – perhaps the closest things they have to a “soul”. Thus, on the one hand, Le regard de l’âme offers an opportunity to reflect upon the sixteen head-and-shoulder portraits presented within it, and what they say about the avatars presented.
But I would also argue that there is something deeper here. The very care we put into crafting our avatars, and particularly their faces, become reflective of who we, the people behind them, are. This may be wholly conscious: a desire to give our avatar a look mirroring our own, or to express an aspect of our personality; but even when creating visually divorced from who we are, making it a representation of who we would like to be, still reflects some of who we in fact are. Thus, the faces of our avatars become something deeper: a portrait of ourselves; and it is this essence of self which is perhaps captured within this images.
With Shameless, presented across the ground floor and mezzanine levels of the Grey Gallery, Burk Bode offers an exhibition of black-and-white images which steps well clear of the ideas of identity present within Dark Underbelly and Le regard de l’âme. Instead, he offers a series of images best noted as being NSFW, given their depiction of sexual acts.
This is a very in-your-face exhibition (literally, given it occupies the gallery space adjacent to the main entrance) in which the observer is clearly cast into the role of voyeur. Indeed, given the subtitle of the exhibition, They are watching us, there is a suggestion that our very presence may have triggered at least some of the acts portrayed; in others, the lean is perhaps more towards exhibitionism and the thrill / risk of performing sexual acts in public.
Sex is at best a difficult topic for discussions, as reactions to it tend to be far more subjective and perhaps shaped by preconceptions. As such, I’ll leave it to readers to visit Shameless to form their own impressions.
Now available on the ground level at Club LA and Gallery, curated by Fuyuko ‘冬子’ Amano (Wintergeist), are two small exhibitions of art and photography available for public appreciation, and which together demonstrate the broad canvas of art in Second Life. To one side of this boutique-style gallery with its own garden space behind it, is an exhibition of Second Life photography by Liz Winterstorm (TinLiz); on the other are reproductions of physical world art by Vangogh Rembranch.
Officially opening at 12:00 noon on Saturday, February 3rd 2018, the exhibition by Liz Winterstorm presents six avatar studies taken from around Second Life. Set within a display area modelled to enhance the pieces with props, this is something of an autobiographical exhibition, with Liz noting that (like many) when she came into SL, she went through the usual round of shopping, spending time with friends, trying new looks, having fun, but without any real sense of purpose to her in-world time. At least until she discovered photography.
As her creativity evolved and her confidence grew, so did her connection with her avatar. “She depicts a part of me that I’ve never really shown anyone,” Liz notes. “In the world of Second Life, when a person can be anyone they want to be, it’s given me the freedom to be the truest form of myself. And I’m very thankful to have this creative outlet, it’s made me look at myself differently and with that has come knowledge and strength. ”
And so it is that while small in number, the images she offers at Club LA and Gallery offer a rich insight into a person who embraces her creativity and who enjoys natural settings, finding them to be perhaps reflective of her moods and thoughts. Each brings together colour, tone, framing, perspective and proportion both naturally and perfectly; which in each there is a suggestion of someone who, while not lonely or afraid of company, enjoys the freedom of being on her own, and the opportunities for private expression it brings. Similarly, the props offered in the exhibition space reflects more of Liz’s creativity; framing the pieces at they do, they heighten appreciation of the images by suggesting not so much viewing photographs, but that we are new friends, invited to share a few quiet and personal moments with Liz.
Italian artist Vangogh Rembranch, by contrast, presents nine reproductions of his physical world art, the majority of which are presented in strong, bold colours, and within an open display area bereft of furnishings or set design which serves to emphasise their boldness. Self-taught, and as his name might suggest, Vangogh is strongly influenced by the art of Vincent Van Gogh, and this is marvellously reflected in the pieces exhibited at Club LA and Gallery. He is also known for his skill in reproducing works by some of the great Impressionists.
Eight of the painting presented here appear to be originals by Vangogh, representing – I believe – scenes from around the Apulia (Puglia) region of Italy – which many might know as being popularly referred to as the “heel” of Italy’s boot. These are all strikingly evocative of Vincent Van Gogh’s art without being derivative. The use of colour, the style and composition all echo Van Gogh, while the subject matter is unique and individual. Among these is one in particular that caught my eye: Vento di luna (“Moon Wind”); with its cold blue tones, to the sky, the white dots of leaves and the shape of the trees are all reminiscent of The Starry Night.
The last image in the series demonstrates Vangogh’s ability to reproduce the work of Impressionist painters. It is a representation of Rue de Paris, Temps de Pluie (“Paris Street; Rainy Day”) by Gustave Caillebotte. Originally painted in oil in 1877, it is Caillebotte’s most famous work, and Vangogh reproduces it here in detail; but again, rather than being a direct copy, Vangogh offers something of an interpretive approach to his version, which he calls Giorno di Pioggia a Parigi (“Rainy Day in Paris”).
Together these two exhibits offer and interesting pairing. One, as noted, presents in-world photography and the other, physical world painting uploaded to Second Life. They are both strongly contrasting in art, presentation and style, whilst also being complementary – one naturally draws visitor to the other, and encourages consideration of both.
Now open at Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, curated by Dido Haas, is Fading, a selection of art by Cold Frog. Cold is a long-time Second Life artist, but time and health is placing limits on her ability to produce new pieces. So, as Dido notes in her introduction to the exhibition, Fading is something of a retrospective of Cold’s past work, rather than being an introduction of new pieces. The title also perhaps stands as reflection of Cold’s situation, as Dido also notes: Cold is sadly finding her own sight is fading.
There is a strong sense of melancholy about many of the pieces offered in this exhibition, again perhaps in keeping with the title, although the subject of death has often been evident in her work, as has suicide; both either directly or through intimation – the splash of blood here, a skull there or perhaps a repose or reference in a title.
This might cause some to think of Fading as a dark and dour exhibit, but I would argue the reverse. Yes – again as Dido notes – death and suicide are serious subjects, but there is a depth and sensitivity layered within Cold’s pieces that draws one into them. There is also, in some, a little sense of playfulness, as if she is quietly saying, “OK, let’s not get too heavy with this. We’re still alive.”
This more light-hearted aspect can, for example, be seen in Sending a Tweet from My Grave, a piece both rich in its imagery, particularly in Cold’s hair, and playing on the idea of tweeting. There is also a certain darkness to the piece; a question, perhaps of how will we be remembered – by others after our passing. Will we have a place in their thoughts, or will memory be fleeting, a flash of remembrance equivalent to a 280-character line of text. Across from it, 40 Days of Isolation is again rich in meaning, and may well reveal itself to different people in different ways; however, to me there is a subtext on the subjects of loneliness, depression and conditions which might lead to suicide.
For me, the most poignant of the images displayed at Nitroglobus appear to be somewhat self-referential: Losing Parts (seen above centre, alongside 40 Days of Isolation), Even Lost My Shadow and the titular Fading (seen directly above). All three seem to point towards Cold’s own circumstances, and while they might be regarded as melancholic, all three are beautifully rendered, allowing them to stand apart of any deeper or more personal meaning. I admit to being particularly drawn to Fading and Even lost My Shadow, while the way both are partially faded speaks to Cold’s situation, so to does the approach present a pair of hauntingly beautiful pieces, their beauty heightened by the muted tones.
Nuanced, rich in detail, presenting several approaches to art and photography, Fading is another exhibition featuring work by a gifted SL artist and which further demonstrates why Nitroglobus is one of the leading galleries in Second Life, and Dido one of the most gifted curators of fine art in SL.
Inara Pey: Living in a Modemworld 