The Inspiration

Art or rather inspiration for it can be found everywhere.
All we need is to discover it and frame it with our imagination.
Like this fragment of reality from a tiny place jammed between East and West somewhere on the coast of the Mediterranean.
No expanse of the sky, no imposing outlines of the ancient temple.
Only coarse surface of the wall and electric wires that flow from nowhere to converge at a point way beyond the edge…

Something is up

Do we paint what we are?
or what we think we are?
or what we think others should think we are?

I know that I do not think when I paint.
Does it mean that this is me....?
Dont think so :)

Why I Paint

The moment of truth arrives unexpectedly yet quietly.
Like a breeze of warm hesitation blowing from the Mediterranean when the sun starts rolling down the western slope of the trajectory.
It is not a revelation, but an assertion of what you already know.
Every inspiration is fleeting and subsides with time.
But this knowledge is rooted deep in the darkest cavity of the unconsciousness.
It is as arcane as the elements themselves.
This intimate knowledge is persistent, but unaware of its accuracy or very existence.
And then it arrives….
Without shape, smell or sound that can be explained away or sounded out, it can only be described by means of no words or notes… Yet it wants to be revealed, it demands to be released from its eternal incarceration and to be judged and accepted for what it really is.

But what is it really? …

Pictures, Pictures.... It is all about Pictures

It’s been said that the more you know the more you have to learn.
Just about a month ago I was "oh so certain" that the solution to presenting my art on the web was found and all I would be needing from that point on would be to expand upon the concept both in size of portfolio and quality of photography required to convey the physical and emotional characteristics of my work. I believed that as long as the conceptual side had been taken care of, the rest will follow as a matter of fact.
Yet, every time I've made a step forward and was able to look back at the preceding stage with the sense of superiority of growth and self-fulfillment, I was also experiencing a certain jolt of apprehension that while overall feel and quality of presentation had improved dramatically – my pieces remained far better "live" then on the screen.
Am I too picky? Not really. In addition to my own vanity, my success of selling on the web will, to a considerable extend, be determined by how other people perceive my artwork in terms of dimension, weight and texture and while virtual world is becoming a rather densely populated planet, most of us continue to expect materially sound objects when interacting with the world not so digital.

From Kramer to Moini... and Back?

Artwork by Kramer (bottom) and Moini

Seating almost at the corner of Spring St. and 6Ave is a wonderful shop run by Roya Dorraudi. The window’s display is almost too lavish and extravagant for the street that hardly exhibits any glitter and where art (especially the one that shines) is not a commodity to be commonly thought.
Yet this is exactly what attracted my attention and enticed me to further explore an incredible fantasy created by Iradj Moini who’s Costume like Jewelry posses an irresistible aura of nostalgia and opulence.
I have to be honest and admit that I am a sucker for glitter created by likes of Kramer, Weiss or Miriam Heskel and while Moini's jewelry is not exactly costume, it is so close that it almost entirely it. And while Bakelite and Plastics are not prominently featured as artist’s material of choice, his images are quite a mixture of Retro and Modernity lost in the thick groves of Hollywood’s Utopia generously topped with Swarovski crystals.
So if you love theater and theatrics and are brave enough to schlep around Gotham as the magnet for the indiscriminate attention or are invited to a lavish reception at the Met this definitely is a place to commence your ultimate shopping spree.

Calder.... what would he be doing today?

I have asked myself that question a million times.

Could he be discovered by the taste makers of today?

Did he actually require a taste maker to discover his work?
I could bet that he just did what he did until his path crossed the ones of Louisa James, Marcel Duchamp and Mondrian.
Most of them just congregated about Montmartre.

The world was breaking apart and all the doors had flown of the hinges.
So here come the Mobiles…… hinges…. Get it?