A Monster, in Miniature

If you've admired Tim Bruckner's model kits from afar, but never felt you had the space or money to get one, there's a new reason for you to visit the Tim Bruckner Shop. Hot on the heels of his "Ode to Joy" miniaturization, Tim has shrunk down yet another of his kits to make it more affordable and less voluminous. The original Monster kit, inspired by the Mary Shelley novel Frankenstein, stands 12.5 inches tall with its base, but the new mini Monster kit stands only 5.75 inches tall, with all of the same detail! Additionally, Tim has made a slight modification to the sculpt, wrenching free one of the Monster's neck bolts and leaving behind a knot of twisted wires. So whether you'll be painting it or simply admiring the sculpt au naturel, head on over to TimBrucknerShop.com to get one today!

It's Ludwig Van!

Tim has proven time and time again that he is a master of the fantastic. But he's also a master of the naturalistic, as anyone who's seen his portraits can attest. One of his portraits, "Ode to Joy" -- his rendering of a laughing Ludwig Van Beethoven -- has been offered as a limited edition, but it is now available in model kit form, and much smaller, to boot. Standing only 5.75 inches tall with its base, this new kit is now available over in the Tim Bruckner Shop (www.timbrucknershop.com), and at $50 is an affordable way to show your love of the composer (or the movie "A Clockwork Orange").

Mr. B's Bookkeeper: Introducing the First Model Kit with Modular Expression

In recent months, Tim (Bruckner, Pop Sculpture co-author) has immersed himself in the world of garage kits, a category he's dabbled in in the past, but one he is now exploring fully through his online store, timbrucknershop.com. His latest kit, Mr. B's Bookkeeper, features a new innovation that hasn't been seen in kits before -- ME (modular expression) busts. With six different eye pieces (three left, three right) and six different mouth pieces (three top, three bottom), the bust can be assembled 81 different ways, which has to be some kind of a record. Pick yours up in the shop, and check out all of the different ways it can be assembled below!

After Fishing

"Last will and Testament" by Mariusz Hermanowicz (with Zygmunt Hermanowicz) was an instant crush for me.

After his father's death, Mariusz Hermanowicz discovers, among the things the father left, boxes filled with fishing lures of his father's own design. Some of the lures are finished, many seem more like prototypes, projects. There are also drawings, parts, materials. A universe of lures.
The father, you see, loved fishing. But he was never satisfied with the lures he had. He kept saying how he would make some of his own, which would allow him to catch many more fish. And kept picking things up from the ground, saying they would be perfect for the lure. "But I had never heard that he ever started doing anything from the things he found".
So what are these objects? Have they ever been used? Were they supposed to be used?
"Did he ever try to catch fish with them? Would any fish get caught on them?"

I am in love with this project.
Need I say more?
Would you like me to rationalize love?
(Of course, if you are reading any of this, it is because, like readers of poetry, you believe words go far beyond any silly logos-stories.)

Here are my quasireasons, then:
I love that violence can turn into passion which can turn into art.

The ideal sublimation.
The utopic idea that someone can move from aggression to beauty.

The uncertain heritage. The ambiguity of what remains.

I guess, it is also the ambiguity of what is already there, of what we do, of our own motivations.

The bait transforms into the fish.

The challenge of seducing the fish becomes the fish's seduction.
The man identifies with the fish to the extent that these little pieces of metal, plastic and wood become a representation of fish, or more, like African masks, they are now a reality of their own, with their peculiar morphology and purposeful abstraction.

Yet there is nothing pragmatic about this purpose. There is madness in this reason.

It is a mad inner dialogue with a fish that will never be caught. The fish that blissfuly remains the being-to-correspond. Transforming these carefuly selected pieces of material into the lure that caught me.

(Be sure to see the entire gallery - the series develops at a great pace.)

Looking at the robots, I think

David Lewandowski, going to the store



Robot maker Azusa Amino recently won the Robot Japan 2 Dance competition with his 23-centimeter-high Toko Toko Maru robot. 


- they are the un-ego, the dream of letting go of the source. They are a life whose source is the non-live, whose origin is not identical, so a different, non-human causality comes into place. The source, here, is the source-code. And that makes all the difference. Saying it is matter brought to life explains nothing. Think, rather, of metamorphosis, of alchemy, of things becoming not-themselves. (Of us becoming not-ourselves). The robot is not a robot if it remains the sum of its parts. It is a robot when it does something it is not supposed to do - when we see it as inhabiting itself. (It - who?, we ask, excitedly). They are our hope for the unexpected: if we can control everything, and the result is somethig more than what we were making, then there is no everything.
And we can dream on.

The Auction of Athena: Our Pop Sculpture Cover Girl Goes on the Block

In the year-plus since "Pop Sculpture" has come out, we have been deluged with words of thanks from folks who find the book to be an indispensable guide to the art of sculpture. And we have nothing but thanks for all of you who have been so supportive of the book -- we hope it will serve you well in the years to come. But now that a year has passed, we're moving on to new projects, and we've got to make room in the studio.

Our cover girl, Athena, is almost two feet tall with her spear, and it's time she moved out on her own, so we're putting her up for auction in Tim's eBay store, at TimBrucknerShop.com. She's a one-of-a-kind piece -- a complete set of molds does NOT exist, so this is the only way to get her. Ever. Look for the auction to post sometime on Sunday, November 27, and expect it to run for ten days; a portion of the proceeds will go to the Arnell Memorial Humane Society of Wisconsin. Keep track of it over at our Facebook page, and enjoy some more photos of Athena below!

The House

This house which is almost gone. Which still has the lines and weight of a house, yet could very well be called landscape. This house which is a set of floors engraved with memories that no one you know could ever read. Things, as people, come and go, yet we believe them to be different, we invest what is left of our faith in this space or that. It's what you think as you move the objects around, pretty damn self-conscious, pretty certain that this armchair in this place is pure iconoclasm. 

You'd rather it were a farm. You would prefer it to be pragmatic, and you would strive for it to be pure function, eliminating any sentiment, oiling the squeaking doors so the sound doesn't leave traces, cleaning the floor so there are no signatures. No time travels. 

Then you picture this farm, and somehow it's not so proper, the weather is muddy, or maybe that's the way it always looks, there are traces everywhere, things have a rhythm they will never ever retain, things have a rhythm they will never ever give up. It is your wildest dream, and this land is full of you, it does not allow you to leave. You seem to have been here long before you've ever pictured this place.

You move back, trying not to stare, so as not to keep any of this. Then you see the roof, its perfectly symmetrical form (it is not symmetric, but that is how you see it), its blissful abstraction. The way this alien form remains here. Now, yes, you can leave. You exit the picture, you go back to the house where the armchair is elsewhere, you walk out through the garden, and you take your hard-earned sight to another nest.

Nicholas McLeod, The Farm (2010)

The Political Sight - Konrad Pustoła's 'Views of Power'

What do you see?

This, here, is an image of power.
Pure and simple, it is what a specific person with power sees. Out of the window. Every day.

Some of the Views of Power, a project by Konrad Pustoła, could be postcards. They are annoyingly nice. Others - most of them, actually -  seem violent in their chaotic setting.

And so, the game begins - can you match the picture to the person? Does it tell you something more about who the person is? Or is it vice versa - the person informs your view of what this view is?

After taking the pictures, Pustoła posted them on billboards in every possible corner of the city.

No, it's not about the contrasts. It's not about looking for contrast. Rather, it is about asking yourself, what is this power? What does this view have? Do I want something from it? What could I possibly want - and expect - from this? Each context is a confrontation of one view with another. It shows the complex web of relations that go beyond a simple decision-making process. For it is clear, here, that we are part of this world of power to a much greater extent than we might think. We co-define it. Which makes it less surprizing to discover the familiarity of some of these views.

One of the most exciting aspects of this project is perhaps the most obvious one - why this window? What is this person's power? It's like trying to discover what are the superpowers of some superhero - only here, there is no super. The power is quite real. It can be power over the soul, the body, the political body. But we can name it, one way or another. And through this simple choice, of deciding this is a person with power, Pustoła provokes us, saying, look, I've made my choices, those are the views I associate with power, here and now, where are yours?

The accent on our capacity to choose power comes across even in the formal approach: these pictures are not attempting to be particularly nice, or ugly. They aren't shot as panoramas, which could seem an obvious solution. But a wrong one. It would suggest that the picture sees it all - that there is, indeed, a panorama. The "standard" angle is a political choice. It tells us clearly, this is the view. The limits are part of this game. They provoke us, ask for alternatives, answers, consequences other than the ones we already have. The billboards set the record straight: if power is always symbolic, the symbol requires context more than scope. The choice, and hence the power, is sharp as a small and precise frame.

There is one more aspect of this simple and effective work.
It was made locally. I was told the plan is to have the scope broadened. I like it as it is. It was made in one Polish city - Krakow. It is the third largest Polish city. Not the capital. Not the center. Neither the periphery. It is one place in the world. And a few windows. Where's the power? In the view, of course.

The views, in order of appearance, belong (?) to: Wisława Szymborska (poet and Nobel Prize Laureate), Magdalena Sroka (v-ce President of Krakow), Jerzy Meysztowicz (businessman), Andrzej Wajda (film director), and, below two of the pictures on billboards, cardinal Stanisław Dziwisz.

Official Tim Bruckner Shop Officially Open!

If you've enjoyed reading Pop Sculpture, then you've probably enjoyed seeing the various sculptures of co-author Tim Bruckner. Not only has he been incredibly prolific in his professional career as a sculptor, he's just as productive in his spare time, creating nearly as many personal pieces as he has commercially available products. Now, for the first time, both are available in one place! The official Tim Bruckner Shop carries many of Tim's most popular pieces from DC Direct, Dark Horse and others, but it also offers some of his personal work as both unpainted model kits and painted limited editions. So if you're looking to pick up a garage kit of Tim's take on Frankenstein's monster, or a finished rendering of Cyrano de Bergerac, head on over to eBay and check it out.

How It Works

You do things.
You try it, this way, that way. You stray, you flop and then you flip again, and something, some things come out of it.

You do them and please, please, you think, do not ask me what I'm doing, what my political take on this, for the moment now I just have a political in-take, the out is not political to my best knowledge. Fortunately, your knowledge is not best. You see, you do things.
And although most of them, you can honestly say, you know little about, the matter speaks for you. (Which, of course, does not mean you do not try to talk with it, for it, explain it, relate it and convey it, extrapolate it, and prove where it, the matter, stands).
Some of the works you work, frankly, are worthy of the highest criticism. They are, yes it has been said before, the flops. Or worse, they have the wrong ideas, wrong media, wrong impressions and plenty-wrong outcomes.

Yet within these plenty-wrong outcomes, things are born. And these things might just make connections, little roots holding on to little pieces of earth. Not that roots hold on to any particular piece, but this metaphor just decided to go its own way, and we at New Art listen to metaphors, so yes, there might be no palpable piece of anything that the roots hold to, yet the work (by now it is work) is starting to appear as if it were actually something, about something, into something, for something. It gains weight.

And then, at some ungiven points, not necessarily at the end or at any sort of finale, the Holy-Flip happens. It could be a form, it could be filled with air or helium, it could be pretty far away from you, but still yours, still stemming from this surprizing head. You might say "things came into place", but you have no clue what you are saying, you don't have the perspective, you just enjoy it, the fact that now it seems clear, there is a connection, things are being said which you knew you wanted to say or wanted someone to say, some other head maybe.
And you know what? When it works, it's so simple.

* * *

All the works above are by Marina Decaro. The first and last image are from a work called "4 ojos" ("4 Eyes"), 2007.

Disclaimer: Marina De Caro was not consulted before writing the above text, and it is not meant to portray the development of her career. The above text is fiction and any resemblance to real art life stories, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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