Letterpress

Letterpressed A1 poster set in Perpetua typeface (work in progress)

Thomas Houseago

Joanne, 2005

plaster, hemp, steel, graphite

Joanne, 2005 (second view)

plaster, hemp, steel, graphite 

Joanne, 2005 (third view)

plaster, hemp, steel, graphite

Giant Baby, 2009
iron rebar, plaster, hemp, graphite, oil crayon and wood

Thomas Houseago is an artist born in 1972 in Leeds, who lives and works in Los Angeles.

'Houseago creates monumental figurative sculptures in powerful poses. Their larger-than-life bodies confront the beholder aggressively; they seem like rather coarse, lurking, and animalistic heroes. The sculpted plaster and the impulsive drawings on the plaster panels that underline the bodies’ contours make Houseago’s dynamic working method clear. The skeletons of iron bars that remain clearly visible underneath the plaster open up the bodies and reveal how they are constructed. When we walk around the sculptures, we see how Houseago consciously grasps and develops the flatness as well as the three-dimensionality of individual body parts.

Formally, the artist proceeds as follows: he builds support structures (modelled on the human skeleton) that give the bodies inner support. Additional materials include wood, plaster panels, and hemp. Around and on top of this structure, body parts are formed with plaster. Wherever plaster is not used, or wherever the artist decides to work two-dimensionally instead of three-dimensionally, wooden or plaster panels are being used. (...) The way the muscles are printed onto the upper body is reminiscent of a sketch. Behind the panel representing the upper body, the reinforcement steel connecting and supporting the head and the legs is visible. The head is once again made of plaster.

(...) Sculpture ensembles on classical or baroque buildings often have a show-side and a side that is not visible to the beholder. From below, the beholder gets the impression that he is looking at fully modelled figures. However, given the opportunity to look at these sculptures closely, their façade-character reveals itself. They are only modelled in the front, hollow inside, and also have iron supports. Here, looking at the back, we are surprised by their fragility and their fragmentary character. Houseago combines the show and back sides and takes advantage of the confusing effect of this interplay.'

Text sourced from ArtNews.org

Images of Joanne sourced from Saatchi-gallery.co.uk

Image of Giant Baby also sourced from ArtNews.org

La Moule

While still working on my dissertation and going through all sorts of research I had once stirred, I find a poem by my favourite Marcel Broodthaers. I had never really heard of this artist, until I accidentally picked up a catalogue of his work. The book itself was untidy, loads of text running in different languages, bold, black, red but as I was going through the pages, I stopped my self from the limitations of arrogance and kept looking at the pictures. Even though his work could almost be seen as 'new media' especially for its time, there was one or two things I recall liking. Then, I went on to search for some new visuals and that's were I discovered this short but beautiful poem.


The Mussel and the mould. How the mould traps the mussel or more likely how the mussel stays entrapped by the mould of its own nature. It is protected and safe from the commodity of society and the world, they all exist and breathe silently in their shell away from everything and anything that could harm them. 


It makes me think, how can this evolution occur to a human being? How can we reject everything and close our selves in a mould, a cast of protection. With a bit of influence from feminist artist Barbara Kruger, who I've been reading a lot these days, the mussel gives me the impression of a woman, so fragile and tender that shuts herself into her shell. So nobody would harm her flesh. It is an automatic mechanism so it wouldn't be eaten by the bigger fish, it's the people who try to influence and steal the beauty from her. 


Yet, she exists with others alike, all shut inside their mould, living happily ever after until she's been boiled and cooked, until her shell widely opens and reveals the treasure.


Oh, isn't she perfect.