Luciano Polverigiani’s Ceramic Toys Explore Material, Function, and Movement

All images © Luciano Polverigiani, shared with permission

From his workshop in Villa Elisa, Argentina, Luciano Polverigiani (previously) creates small and medium format ceramics that teeter between traditional sculpture and toys. Currently fascinated by the relationship between form and function, the artist often reflects on how his materials are inextricably linked to each piece’s use. “We generally associate ceramic material with fragility; ceramic objects break if they fall on the ground or are handled roughly,” he tells Colossal. “I am interested in reflecting on the ‘use’ that we will give to ceramics. In this sense, I begin to work with the idea of a ceramic toy.”

The artist brings the contradictory idea of the ceramic toy to life through a curious menagerie of creatures, each radiating with personality. And while many toys feature some kind of moveable aspect or configurable parts, Polverigiani embraces the incongruity between clay’s rigidity and the inherent action of play. By incorporating wheels and creating small figures that are meant to fit inside others, the artist pushes the boundaries between ceramic sculpture and movement.

In the past few years, Polverigiani has cultivated relationships with other ceramicists during his travels, and he is currently working on organizing a collective exhibition. You can follow him on Instagram for updates, and find more work on Behance.

 

 

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Exuberant Patterns Bring Ceramic Creatures to Life in George Rodriguez’s ‘Mexican Zodiac’

“El Chapulin.” All images © George Rodriguez, shared with permission

Antennae spring from the crown of a grasshopper, and an alert expression characterizes a cacomixtle’s beady eyes in George Rodriguez’s vibrant portraits of Mexican fauna. In his ongoing Mexican Zodiac series, the artist takes inspiration from the Great Race myth and the birth of the Chinese zodiac. “I wanted to continue to explore themes of protection, inclusion, and sanctity using the Chinese zodiac as a framework,” he tells Colossal. “I was also inspired by Ai Weiwei’s ‘Circle of Animals’ sculpture recreating the 12 animal heads of the Old Summer Palace in Beijing.”

Rodriguez initially made all of the Chinese zodiac animals in homage to the original stories, then landed on the idea of bringing the narrative closer to his own home and creating a parallel Mexican version. “Instead of the Year of the Rat, it would be el Año del Chapulín (grasshopper),” he says. “Instead of Year of the Tiger, it would be el Año del Jaguar. I have fun translating the different animal characteristics into animals that would be found in and around Mexico.”

 

“El Cacomixtle”

Mexican Zodiac has taken numerous forms, including a sprigging style—a kind of low relief decoration—that Rodriguez employs in much of his work, followed by a version brightly colored like Alebrijes, a style of small, vibrant wooden animals traditionally made in Oaxaca. The artist finished a third version in a metallic glaze that mirrored Ai’s originals, a fourth utilized a style of illustrated pottery known as Talavera, and the most recent involved collaborating with 13 other artists for a project titled El Zodiaco Familiar. Rodriguez has also translated animals of the lunar calendar into a series called Lunar Vessels, some of which are also shown below.

An exhibition of the artist’s work opens at West Virginia University’s Paul Mesaros Gallery on August 24, and another solo show opens in Denver at Visions West Contemporary on November 9. El Zodiaco Familiar is currently on view at Philadelphia’s Magic Gardens through September 10, and you can find more on the artist’s website and Instagram.

 

“Toro.” Collaboration with Marilyn Montufar

“El Venado”

“Venado Azul.” Collaboration with Carolina Jimenez

“La Cabra”

‘Lunar Vessels’

“La Iguana”

“Ox”

“Ram”

Left to right: “Snake,” “Dragon,” and “Rooster”

“El Quetzalcoatl”

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Colossal Is Taking a Summer Break!

Photo by Tom Hegen

Hi, friends! It’s been more than a few years since our last real vacation, so Colossal is taking a brief summer break from July 26 through August 9. Publication won’t cease entirely, but we’ll only be sharing a few things a week, and some newsletters will be sporadic or resume on our return. We hope you stay cool during this very hot summer, and we’ll be back in a few weeks at our regular pace.

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Matthew Mazzotta’s Monumental Pink Flamingo Wades Through Myriad Meanings of Home at Tampa International Airport

All images © Matthew Mazzotta, shared with permission

Known for stalking front lawns in plastic form as much as they wade through the shallows of Everglades National Park, Biscayne Bay, or the Keys, pink flamingos are practically synonymous with Florida. Around the turn of the 20th century, however, native populations were decimated due to overhunting. Although residents later began to foster captive colonies, of the estimated 260,000 to 330,000 mature birds worldwide, Florida is thought to accommodate only about one percent of them. For artist Matthew Mazzotta, the iconic avian and the importance of sharing space with wildlife inspired a monumental, immersive installation at Tampa International Airport.

“Home,” a floor-to-ceiling sculpture of a lifelike flamingo, taps into the multiple meanings of its title. Travelers passing through the terminal may be “leaving their homes, returning back home, going to a new home, or simply to a place that feels like home,” reads a statement. In addition to being a place that people dwell, Florida thrums with abundant wildlife, and Mazzotta brings viewers up close and personal with one of the state’s most treasured animals. A glistening film on the ceiling imitates the surface of water, from which the bird’s head and spindly legs emerge as it scans the floor for food, and hidden projectors send glimmering light over the surface, mimicking dappled sunlight filtering through the water.

Mazzotta’s piece was recently selected as one of CODAawards top 100 public artworks to be installed internationally last year, and through July 31, you can cast your vote for your favorite. You might also be interested in the artist’s popular TED Talk about community spaces designed to delight and inspire possibility. Explore much more work on his website.

 

 

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Dense Embroideries Map Celestial Expanses and Abstract Landscapes by Lindzeanne

All images © Lindzeanne, shared with permission

“I’m motivated to make my work as a way of mapping myself and mapping my space,” says Lindsey Gradolph, who works as Lindzeanne. An ex-pat for nearly 20 years who is currently based in Tokyo, the artist finds solace in her freehand embroidery practice that produces dense, expressive planes of texture and color. “Sometimes there can be an uncanny feeling of being completely untethered, so I’m creating my own, familiar-to-me topography,” she tells Colossal. “I like to think of each of my pieces as its own little universe, whether that be internal or external. Someplace unfamiliar but perhaps closer than we think.”

Lindzeanne began stitching in order to upcycle clothing, a practical hobby that quickly became more of a drawing practice. Embroidery floss isn’t common in Japan, so the artist instead picked up basic hand-sewing and traditional sashiko threads that she stitches into second fabrics—she references mottainai, the Japanese term that translates to “waste nothing.” “Both those types of thread aren’t particularly useful for creating figurative illustrations or images, so that led me to experiment with different ways of filling a space or creating a design,” she says.

 

The resulting works are rife with patterns. Circular forms buttress dots in varying sizes, and stripes bisect planes of simple back stitches. Many of the motifs evoke the celestial and organic, whether galactic forms, the flow of bodies of water, or small bubbles drifting upward, the latter of which she tends to render in white. “To me, colors have a personality to them, and shapes have a weight and character to them, so when I’m thinking of a piece in my mind, or sitting down to cut fabric, I’m always imagining the push and pull, or the gravity that certain shapes and colors have with one another,” she says.

As for how long each piece requires, “it takes the time it takes,” she replies, noting that she’s uninterested in quantifying the hours of stitching. “I don’t think about the time when I’m working,” she says. “I like the tactile nature of textiles, and the repetitive nature speaks to me.”

The artist has a few works available on her site, and you can keep up with her practice, which includes a new tarot-inspired series, on Instagram.

 

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Tire Treads Twist into Braids and Knots in Kim Dacres’ Celebratory Busts of Black Women

“Hope” (2022), recycled motorcycle and bicycle tires, wood, screws, braided bicycle inner tubes, zip ties, and spray paint, 27 x 15 x 14 inches. Photo by Max Yawney. All images © Kim Dacres, shared with permission

Artist Kim Dacres prefers materials with history, those with scars from the world and where, as the saying goes, the rubber meets the road. She molds used tires from motorcycles, bikes, and cars into figurative sculptures that are celebratory and corrective, honoring the Black women who have influenced her and addressing the challenges many have faced. “Used relentlessly until they’re deemed broken or superfluous, discarded without thought or care— where others see waste, Dacres sees possibility,” says a statement about her transformation of the material. “And with that vision comes a profound resiliency, solace, and ultimately joy.”

Portraying subjects both real and imagined, many of Dacres’ most recent works consider questions of self-expression and presentation. Coated in sleek, black spray paint and weighing, at times, upwards of 90 pounds, the sculptures feature natural hairstyles like braids, dreads, and Bantu knots that, in white spaces, have historically been questioned for their respectability and professionalism.

 

“Sheryl” (2022), recycled auto tires, motorcycle tires, bicycle tires, bicycle tire tubes, zip ties, bike parts, screws, wood, and spray paint, 26.5 x 11 x 14 inches. Photos by Max Yawney

Dacres first used tires in 2008 for her undergraduate senior thesis show at Williams College. She spent the next decade in education, working as a teacher, middle school principal, and professor, and in 2017, she returned to the material and her practice.

Her most recent exhibition Measure Me in Rotations, held earlier this summer at Charles Moffett Gallery in New York, brought together a series of works that reference the students she met in the classroom and those in her communities in Harlem and the Bronx, where she lives and works, respectively. Emphasizing the power of hair to assert one’s identity, Dacres uses the unique tread, texture, pattern, and malleability of the tires to form individual characteristics. Smooth, inner tubing peeks through the knots in “Bintou,” while strips of sliced rubber cascade down the figure’s head in “Britt.”

An earlier work, titled “Hope,” is a prime example of Dacres’ desire to draw metaphoric parallels between the material and the subject. Referencing the histories of the Great Migration and Caribbean and African immigration that brought many Black people north, the figure appears to both scream and mouth the word “hope.” She explains:

Hope, in part, inspires the voluntary migration away from family, friends, and familiarity and towards the newness of place and the messiness of acculturation. The feeling instigates the momentum. We move for hope. We plan with hope in mind. Hope is the feeling of the future. The material embodies the idea of travel and ultimately, the friction needed to propel forward and away from home.

Dacres has a two-person exhibition with artist April Bey (previously) slated for June 2024 at UTA Artist Space in Atlanta. She was also recently featured in the books Black American Portraits and Black Power Kitchen. Find more of her work on her site and Instagram.

 

“Hope” (2022), recycled motorcycle and bicycle tires, wood, screws, braided bicycle inner tubes, zip ties, and spray paint, 27 x 15 x 14 inches. Photo by Max Yawney

Detail of “Sheryl” (2022), recycled auto tires, motorcycle tires, bicycle tires, bicycle tire tubes, zip ties, bike parts, screws, wood, and spray paint, 26.5 x 11 x 14 inches. Photo by Max Yawney

“Britt” (2023), recycled auto, motorcycle, electric skateboard, and bicycle tires, pressure-treated wood, construction screws, and black satin spray paint mounted on a red oak plinth, 69 × 13 × 13 inches. Photo by Max Yawney

“Natty Dread II” (2022), recycled auto and bicycle tires, wood, screws, bicycle parts, and spray paint, 37 x 9 x 17 inches. Photos by Max Yawney

“Bintou” (2023), recycled auto, motorcycle, electric skateboard, and bicycle tires, pressure-treated wood, construction screws, MDF, and black satin spray paint mounted on ambrosia maple plinth, 55 × 14 × 14 inches. Photo by Max Yawney

“Enid” (2022), recycled auto and bicycle tires, wood, screws, and spray paint, 27 x 13 x 12.5 inches. Photos by Max Yawney

Left: “Anita” (2023), recycled auto, motorcycle, electric skateboard, and bicycle tires, pressure-treated wood, construction screws, and black satin spray paint, mounted on pressure-treated wood base, 52 x 16.5 x 24.5 inches. Right: “Phyllis” (2023), recycled auto, motorcycle, electric skateboard, and bicycle tires, pressure-treated wood, construction screws, and black satin spray paint, mounted on pressure-treated wood base, 54.5 x 16.5 x 24.5 inches. Photo by Tom Barratt and Charles Moffett Gallery

Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $5 per month. The article Tire Treads Twist into Braids and Knots in Kim Dacres’ Celebratory Busts of Black Women appeared first on Colossal.

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A New Book Revisits the Grime and Pandemonium of the NYC Subway of the ’70s and ’80s

72nd Street Station West Side, New York, 1977. All images © Willy Spiller, courtesy of Bildhalle, shared with permission

“It didn’t take Willy Spiller long to understand that there is nothing more New York than its subways, each car a sweaty, rattling microcosm of the city itself—a loud, crowded, colorful melting pot where everyone is thrust into everyone else’s business,” writes Bill Shapiro in the introduction to Hell on Wheels. Published by Bildhalle to coincide with an exhibition by the same name, the book surveys a collection of Spillers’ photographs from 1977 to 1984, forming a now legendary series of images that capture life on the move in one of the world’s largest cities.

On view now at the Amsterdam gallery, Hell on Wheels peers into the graffiti-laden train cars of the late ’70s. Commuters pack into the tiny cabin during rush hour, teenage girls still in their crisp, white school uniforms sprawl across empty seats, and a man with cuffed orange trousers cradles a radio as he waits in the 72nd Street Station. Spiller, who came to New York from Zurich in 1977 and shot more than 2,000 photos of the subway during an infamous time in its history, offers a clear-eyed glimpse of a transitory space, where, for a brief ride from one part of the city to another, people across classes and cultures commingle in a mix of energy, friction, and camaraderie.

Order your copy of Hell on Wheels on the Bidhalle website, where you can also find more of the series.

 

Rush Hour on Lexington IRT, Subway, New York, 1981

Schoolgirls On the A-Train to Far Rockaway, New York, 1978

Dangerous Ride, Subway, New York, 1983

Lexington Avenue Line, IRT Division of the New York City Subway, 1979

Jerome Avenue IRT Line, New York, 1980

Downtown Express 72nd St. Station, Subway, New York, 1977

The A train to Brighton Beach Subway, New York, 1977

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