Tag: Nitroglobus

No Exit is the title of the latest 2D art exhibition hosted by Dido Haas at her Nitroglobus Roof Gallery. It features the images and words of Milena Carbone, and is very much something of an “accidental” exhibition which still nevertheless offers food for thought – something Milena is prone to do with her art.

I’ll let Dido explain why No Exit might be considered an “accidental” exhibit:

[Milena] initially intended to work on a totally different project. However, this was cancelled due to her RL work as well as to her lack of motivation. So the images shown at the walls of the gallery this month were not created for an exhibition. Instead they were taken from the stream of images which Milena regularly produces for herself.

I made the selection and pointed out to Milena that there were always two characters in each image, .which made Milena think of the French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre’s play “No exit” (“Huis clos” in French). And voila the title for this exhibition was born.

– Dido Haas, explaining the origins of No Exit

The connection between Satre and images is important to understand, because – as if so often the case with Milena’s work, there is a philosophical theme running through No Exit that invites consideration and, by nature of the framing of the play’s own central theme.

The title of the play actual comes from the French legal term “in camera”, denoting a private discussion behind closed doors; within it, three deceased people find themselves trapped in a room with no exit, doomed to face eternity with only one another’s company. Thus they are faced with Satre’s truth that “hell is other people” (L’enfer, c’est les autres), itself a reflection of his fascination with existentialism (perhaps most notably through L’Être et le néant), and of the internal struggle that arises when forced to view oneself from both the point of view (that is solely from how they see you in a particular moment) and the perspective (i.e. how they perceive you and your actions within the broader context of their own cultural and societal influences and personal biases / experiences) of another consciousness.

However, before delving into these deeper themes,  I would emphasise that these are images that can be seen and appreciated entirely in their own right and free from any more layer thinking. In fact, I would say they should be seen in this manner before being contextualised within the broader scope of theme and Satre’s world of ontological thinking; there is a beautiful minimalism to every piece that renders it fully as moment of narrative, encouraging us to freely construct a story around it, or to simply appreciate its form, tone, framing and expression.

When Milena’s theme and Satre’s ideas are taken into consideration, these are images that taken on an entirely new depth. Take, for example, XXI Century. On the surface, a simple image of two women with different cultural heritages posing for a photograph – be they friends or relatives, it makes no difference. But, add the title of the piece into the equation, together with the fact one of the women is wearing an al-amira, and a more complex narrative emerges, that invokes thoughts of the manner in which during the first 21 years of the 21st century has continued to see the impact of “otherism” – the ostracising of those whose dress, system of belief and place of origin mark them as “different” and thus not to be trusted or allowed. It’s a negative attitude that has gripped many to the point of being without any exit; yet, were they to step outside of the strictures of peer / societal pressure, then the reality that we are all of one, single unique race would become that much harder to ignore.

Elsewhere, the questioning of self, and other others see is more direct (e.g. within Difference, Asymmetry, and The Invitation (the latter’s use of Black and white being particularly effective in bringing for the idea of differencing outlooks / perspectives that challenge our own). Whilst 7 Billion Bullets most clearly questions our entire attitude towards the preciousness of an individual life.

This image also leans itself to the central cube that sits between the two arms of the exhibition hall. Apparently open from the outside, in stepping in, it becomes a closed room with no exit – a physical representation of the room from Huis clos. Here we are forced to confront the fact that we are all essentially locked in rooms of self – everything we see or experience generates our world-view, making us all, in essence selfish; the imprint of those around us, through their thoughts and actions, rightly or wrongly, shaping our own views and outlooks, thus trapping us in our own hell of thought and convictions.

The words here carry both a startling reality of creating our own hell and – conversely – of allowing ourselves to become trapped in thinking that encourages us to retain that hell. The former is most succinctly stated through the commentary that global ammunition production means that each year, sufficient bullets are produced to wipe out all of humanity. Whether or not one is rooted in “the right to bear arms”, this is a grotesque factoid.; how much better might it be if the money poured into arms and ammunition were to be devoted to green sources of energy, improved food production, medicine and education?

Conversely, the fact that we are trapped within this one world is not an argument against attempting to expand elsewhere. For one thing, we are a naturally expansive race – and right now, we have nowhere else to go – a point of increasing concern given Earth’s finite resources. More to the point, space has more than anything else, given us the means to truly understand the fragility of this world and to actually start to take constructive (if limited) action to curtail damaging activities. For 60+ years, we have simply failed to more properly respond to what as been revealed, trapped as we have become in a materialistic, selfish need to have with no apparent exit – and pointing the finger of blame to a billionaire or two isn’t going to change (much less reverse) that; we – you, me, Milena, et al, are equally as guilty.

Milena is, I understand, absent from Second Life due to those physical world commitments mentioned above, and is liable to remain so for a while. As such, whether or not you are drawn to the philosophical / ontological expressions found with No Exit, or if you would simply like to again experience the attractiveness of her art for its own sake, this is an exhibition well worth witnessing.

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• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated: Moderate)

Who doesn’t know Hikaru? Dido Haas asks in reference to Hikaru Enimo in her introduction to the October art exhibition at her Nitroglobus Roof Gallery in Second Life. Well, to my embarrassment, I have to hold a hand up and say “me”; for despite Hikaru being a photographer, blogger, event organiser and Editor-in-Chief of L’Homme Magazine SL, I have not had a prior opportunity to view his work. Thus My Reflection, as his exhibition at Nitroglobus is titled, has been an opportunity for me to become better acquainted with, if not the man, then at least his work.

This is something of a person exhibition of pieces for Hikaru, as again the liner notes make clear. Each piece is intentionally designed to offer insight into the moods and emotions the artist was feeling during its composition of each shot, rather than just trying to evoke a mood or response in the viewer of his work. The result is a baker’s dozen of fabulously monochrome pieces that are presented in the large format that marks exhibitions at Nitroglobus, all focused on Hikaru’s avatar (joined in places by his dog), that are deeply expressive, and in which pose, tone, lighting and setting have been carefully crafted to as much give insight into the artist’s mindset as much as any facial expression.

Indeed, given that many of the images offered – in difference to Hikaru’s own comments on his use of his avatar’s gaze – eyes and face are not visible, the depth of feeling that is conveyed in some of these pieces just through pose completely captivates. Just take My Reflection 07, My Reflection 09 and My Reflection 10, for example, all of which contain a sense of listlessness borne of solitude and / or boredom. Similarly, Reflection 12 is a completely stunning narrative of mood in which, while it partially reveals a downcast face, the statement come no closer is perfectly portrayed through the placement of the stripped bars across the doorway before Hikaru’s avatar; so much so, I would suggest, that even whilst rendered in monochrome, bars mentally convey the idea they are in fact stripped yellow-and-black in that familiar warning do not cross.

Where his avatar’s face is visible, the conveyance of mood / feelings is more directly pronounced, but not less marvellously framed. My Reflection 11 and My Reflection 04 (which I would not is definitely NSFW when viewing!) for example, utilise the placement of a hand over or before the face to charge each piece with its emotional content, the use of splayed or crooked fingers speaking volumes as to the thoughts that lie behind the avatar’s eyes even as those eyes remain hidden by lowered lids. Similarly, and alongside of it, the curl of cigarette smoke rising beside the steady gaze of Hikaru’s avatar in Reflection 01 draws us into his eyes and the sense of mood within them. And then there is My Reflection 14, where pose, directed gaze and the presence of a window (or door) frame between us and the avatar offers an entire story.

And it is in the idea of contained narrative that Reflections further unfolds before us. For while these are images intended to reflect Hikaru’s own moods, thoughts, feelings – and yes, his vitality – at the time of their creation, such is their depth and composition, we cannot help be see each as part of a larger canvas. Each image invites us in to it, awakening our imaginations to weave stories that can fill the rest of that unseen canvas. Stories in which our own role might also be defined: are we merely a observer of a moment in Hikaru’s life, or are we an invisible participant – lover, partner, friend, passer-by – looking upon someone we care for, like or just happen to see – or who has caught us unexpectedly within his gaze?

Evocative, rich, personal, emotive and a tour de force of an artist’s talent for expression and story-telling, My Reflection is both a superb introduction to Hikaru’s work for those who like myself have not been fortunate enough to encounter it previously, and as a richly layered series of images that superbly straddle the line of “personal” and “public” in their conveyance of mood and narrative respectively.

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• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated: Moderate)

It was back to Dido Haas’ Nitroglobus Roof Gallery for the second time in less than a week, this time to visit Dido’s Space in the gallery (follow the bare footprints on the floor from the landing point to find it), where Greek photographer-artist Mihailsk makes his second appearance in a 3-month period, this time to offer a selection of new pieces under the title Red Sky.

Mihailsk is relatively new to the SL art scene in terms of exhibiting his work – his first such exhibition was actually the July appearance at Nitroglobus mentioned above, which took place in the main gallery space (see: Mihailsk’s Baptism of Fire in Second Life). The smaller Red Sky offers both an expansion on what made that exhibition so attractive whilst also contrasting very strongly with it.

In writing about Baptism of Fire I noted that Mihailsk – Miha to those close to him – produces work that is avatar-focused, but not necessarily avatar-centric. That is, whilst an image may include an avatar and framed in such a way to draw the eye to that avatar, it is the overall composition – pose, expression, surroundings – be they indoors or out – use of lighting and colour, etc., that are as equally as important in telling the story within the image, rather than sitting merely as a backdrop. With Red Sky, this is equally if more more true, with each of the pieces featuring – as the title of the exhibition suggests – a red sky of a deep crimson hue which serves to  additionally frame the emotional depth of each image.

Colour is oft used to define or evoke emotions and emotional responses; we talk in terms of someone “seeing red” when exceptionally angry, or of having a “black mood” or being caught in “the blues”; we believe muted tones and colours help evoke feelings of calmness or help people to relax, and so on. Red is especially evocative, as it generates so many responses / emotions / feelings. As noted here, it is often used to represent the stronger emotions of anger and rage, but at the same time it can also express the more tender – love, compassion, care; it can also express danger, the need to be careful or to keep away and, conversely it can emphasise attractiveness and wanting to attract through its use in the clothes we wear.

In his eight pieces, Miha offers six expressions / emotions with which were are all familiar: love, joy, longing, power, pain and danger, together with two pieces – Balance and Visualisation – that speak to broader themes. Within each image, the red sky / backdrop serves to reflect and enhance the sense of emotion already present through the use of other colours, pose, framing, and overall composition.

It is here that the contrast with Baptism of Fire is most evident: were the images there used darker or muted tones / monochrome shading that coalesced within each piece to express their emotion; here it is the strong contrast between the sky and other colours present – green, yellow, the tones of nature, etc., that frames the emotion. But at the same time, the use of colour / tone / shading in this way offers the same strength of narrative context through both exhibitions.

Writing in his liner notes for Red Sky, Miha states, “We are a part of the environment around us, not the main theme.” This is again evident through his work seen within this collection: the poses are natural in form, capturing simple gestures, etc., any one of us might naturally make in any situation; thus they are devoid of any sense of intentional construction, but appear as moments of life caught in a blink of a shutter, avatar and setting forming a natural balance. And here too, the crimson skies also play a role, for crimson is oft referenced as the colour of blood, the oil in our machine, so to speak, that keeps us running; thus we are reminded both through the emotional content of these pieces and the use of colour that life is not just about participating in it, it’s about experiencing it to the fullest extent we can.

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• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated: Moderate)

The terms tough guy and tough man are generally defined as a person who is  strong or resilient; a durable, often pugnacious and of undoubted resolution and resilience, able to deal with hard or difficult situations or a hard life. Both tend to bring to mind the hard-boned loner – cowboy, warrior,  etc., perhaps battling the odds.  Someone of a disposition to be reckoned with.

All of this is true enough, as far as it goes. But the “tough” part of these terms isn’t just about being a hard man, a fighter, or similar, or in having to show any particular prowess off. The genuine “tough man” is a person of confidence, understanding, and strength of conviction and ethics such that he is willing to do the right thing; he is a person that doesn’t see the need to hide behind façades of toughness or be afraid to should emotions or vulnerability. 

It is these latter points that make Hilaire Beaumont’s new exhibition Tough Man, which opened on August 11th at Nitroglobus Roof Gallery, curated by Dido Haas, an outstanding selection of single-frame stories.

Hilaire is well-know for his avatar studies, although he does not tend to exhibit that often in-world – something that makes Tough Man even more appealing. He also does not regard himself as an artist – a point I would dispute, because his works contain all the richness to be found in any true work of art, not just from a technical perspective: framing, lighting, colour, etc., but because of the sheer depth of story each and every image carries with it, together with the richness of life, vitality and emotion each conveys.

This is doubtless in part because of his background in role-play in Second Life. Creating and inhabiting a character is very much an artform it itself; bringing that character to life such that they can be believed and interacted with requires a strength of imagination and willingness to emote and remain in character.  Coming from that background gives Hilaire, I would suggest, a deeper connection with his characters, and this is evidenced in the twelve images presented in this selection.

In this 12 images (the exhibition poster is actually by David Silence, albeit based on an image by Hiliare), all of them new for this exhibition, gets inside his characters in a manner that sets his work above others; whereas an avatar study is generally posed  and framed to convey an emotion such that the image is essentially a moment out of time, the avatar a puppet in the telling of the story, Hiliare’s work genuinely conveys the story of the character within each of these images. Thus, rather than being a moment out of time, these are very much moments in time, capturing a specific point in the life of the character.

And while they well be framed in “tough man” situations, they go further than the typical archetype; each one offers a depth of emotion that is the true hallmark of the tough man – that willingness to stand firm for what is right, to show vulnerability, to stand against odds for something worth believing in; to be someone who finds not loneliness in being alone, but the comfort of his own company.

As pieces of art or as stories or missives on the nature of the tough man, these are pieces that have a lot to say, and as an exhibition, Tough Man should not be missed.

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• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery (Sunshine Homestead, rated: Moderate)