After a long run-up, today I managed to realize an idea I’ve been putting off for a long time: animated art.
When I visited the Alte Pinakothek in Munich in February 2020 just before the first lockdown and while looking at the artworks I developed lots of ideas how to add a nice animated story to the artwork. In the tradition of Terry Gilliam (Monty Python), I would like to breathe some life into – sometimes irreverent and anarchistic – works of art at irregular intervals. Have fun with it, this week I start with Degas.
On May 26th this year, it was finally allowed to visit a museum again after the long lockdown. After a short inquiry it was clear to me that I absolutely had to see the exhibition of Phyllida Barlow at the Haus der Kunst. The brief description promised an exciting experience in art:
Phyllida Barlow‘s sculptural structures are unwieldy and difficult to take in: timber, cardboard, cement, clay, plastic pipes, and colorful textiles pile up, spread out, or block the visitors’ way. The view ranges over these landscapes made of everyday materials, unsure what to hold on to, and drifts up to grasp their enormous dimensions. Barlow‘s works pose a constant challenge; they conquer the space as if they led a life of their own. They invite viewers to reconsidering spaces, perceive volume, and hear the language of architecture.
The museum’s website has a lot more really fascinating information, videos, pictures, etc. about the exhibition. Worth seeing!
My expectations were accordingly high and in no way disappointed. I was totally thrilled by the dimensions of the artworks and especially by the wacky ideas of the artist. I’ll just let the photos (see gallery) speak for themselves and refrain from commenting. However, one experience left a lasting impression on me. As I strolled around one of the artworks, a museum employee approached me and told me that it was allowed to go inside the artwork. What a fascinating experience. I made a video about it, it can be found on YouTube and in the Instagram story accompanying the post. Enjoy looking at the photos.
On 25.1.2021 he saw the light of day or rather he was born on a drawing pad, the Hairbert. He was born out of my personal frustration about the lockdown and all the associated inconveniences, this case the constantly growing hair and the missing visit to the hairdresser.
I was surprised by the positive response behind this art figure. I would not have thought. In the course of the last months I drew the one or other frustration from my soul and each of these small works of art had something to do with Corona and the Lockdown. I’ve been encouraged from many people to continue Hairbert, but honestly, I’ve run out of ideas at the moment. And in no way do I want to keep the little hairy guy alive under stress, so I’m sending him into an artistic slumber for now.
Maybe I’ll wake him up again once I’ve collected enough ideas and when the time is just right.
At the moment my focus is back on the music and the creative realization of the next EP with the simple yet apt name Franz.
A long birth, because musically Franz was born about a year ago and he unfortunately had to go through some musical-creative sinks. Now he is but slowly fledged, I currently rather shirk the mixdown. More about that in another place.