Digital research journal
63 posts
mattias lind, a partner at scandinavian practice white arkitekter, has developed ‘chameleon cabin’ a house constructed entirely from paper. as the name suggests, the structure changes its appearance depending on the viewer’s perspective, comprising dual black and white façades. looking to explore the limits of the renewable and versatile material, the modular design has the potential to be extended to several hundred meters if required.
When he first began crafting his multimedia works, artist Frank Poor drew inspiration from his childhood home, using old photos as a foundation for his delicate basswood sculptures. Now, the Rhode Islander takes his cues from other buildings he photographs—often abandoned ones, which invite onlookers to wonder about the people who once lived in them. Such was the premise for Locust. “I’m drawn to it somehow,” he says, adding that it reminds him of the Georgia farmhouses he grew up around. For this work, Poor sketched the house’s basic structure, then cut pieces of basswood to build its frame. After gluing the pieces together, Poor hung the resulting sculpture against the photograph, which he’d altered to exclude the building’s framework. “I’m removing the 2D house and replacing it with a 3D version,” he explains. Poor likens the house in the original photo to a cicada shell: The building is an “encasement that has been emptied,” he says. “Life has left it, but it has left its impression.”
House - Gowensville, SC, 2021, basswood, Baltic birch plywood and inkjet print, 96” x 36” x 26”
Windows – Elk Creek, VA, 2024, glass, digital transparencies and wood, 32” x 47” x 2”
House – Meridian, MS, 2020, basswood and inkjet print on rice paper, 16” x 34.75” x 9.5”
He is motivated by nostalgia and his architectural sculptures evoke the concepts of place, time and memory. His work tries to hold in one place what is there and what is gone and missing.
The Perfect Home II Made from translucent nylon fabric and meticulously hand-sewn, ‘the perfect home II’ continues the artist’s study of mass global migration, the process of finding a home, and the notion of permanence. the installation reflects upon do ho suh’s own history of migration and displacement — born in seoul and immigrating to the US in his twenties — and centers on the idea of personal and cultural identity.
for him, in re-creating his former homes, the artist resurrects the memories of living within them, and emphasizes the connection people have to physical spaces. visitors to the brooklyn museum are able to walk through the work, inhabiting — even if temporarily — the apartment and the artist’s memories.
the installation reflects on the artist’s sense of impermanence
Dekkers explores the tension between static architecture and the illusion of painterly perspective to find free space for sculpture and painting to intermingle. Using a camera for perspective she treats three-dimensional space, framed through the lens, as a canvas: a surface that allows her to look for new spatial alignments.
Painted picture 3, Pigment print on fiber based paper (wooden frame) 63 x 50 cm 2014.
Painted picture 5, Pigment print on fiber based paper (wooden frame), 63 x 50 cm, 2014.
Pim Palsgraaf, Reflections of Emptiness 07, Wood, stained wallpaper, metal, 190 x 50 x 145 cm, 2021. Pim Palsgraaf is inspired by decay and irregularities in the city. The discord between nature and urbanity are relevant topics and perspectives in meta-modernistic thinking. Palsgraaf’s work is a result of an ever-deepening investigation into the erosion of the inner city. Empty spaces – old corridors and ceilings that are about to collapse and where nature is stepping in to take over – nourish his fascination for this process. In his work Palsgraaf focuses on the lines of perspective from which we build the world around us. For a while, Palsgraaf worked within the existing systems of how to draw the world around us, but a few years ago he decided, rather, to investigate the fundamentals of the world around us. The fundamentals, according to Palsgraaf, are in how people construct the world around them. This often leads to dualisms in society. Nihilism and consumerism, irony and naive informality live side by side and simultaneously. Palsgraaf decided to investigate his own perception and spent five days in a completely enclosed dark room, without time or noise. It soon became clear to Palsgraaf that time is only a concept, perception a construction of the mind. He decided to continue with these discoveries and to investigate how he could interweave these findings and translate them into his work. His aim is to convey his experiences of time and perception and to bring the viewer into a moment of silence and total doubt, in which all the hold of the world is completely gone.
Pim Palsgraaf, Burn your bridges 13, Wood, stained wallpaper, carton, 40 x 50cm, 2021.
Pim Palsgraaf, Traces of existence, Wood, stained wallpaper, metal, 320 x 180 x 210 cm, 2017.
Curator, Laura Hoptman: Gordon Matta-Clark was trained as an architect. His work took on a lot of different guises at the very beginning of his career, at the beginning of the 1960s, and it wasn't till his first cutting experiment in 1971 where he really took on what he called “anarchitecture.” And that is the idea of a kind of literal deconstruction of architecture to see how it was made in conjunction with or in opposition to the human beings who would inhabit it. Narrator: Matta-Clark made Bingo in 1974 by cutting into the facade of a house in Niagara Falls, New York that was slated to be demolished. Laura Hoptman: This was a period of time when a lot of buildings had been condemned or were rotting. So by making an artwork out of these abandoned houses and abandoned industrial sites, he was drawing attention to them. Narrator: He cut through the walls in frame of the house, creating nine equal sized rectangles that resembled the grid of a Bingo game card. This sculpture is made from three of those pieces. Laura Hoptman: So that's why you see some of the interior. And when you see the stairway, you're seeing both the front side and the back side of the facade. Narrator: The artist and a team of assistants worked 12 hours a day for 10 days to cut and remove the facade. Laura Hoptman: And as soon as he and his crew left, the bulldozers came and bulldozed the house.
Gordon Matta-Clark. Bingo. 1974, Building fragments: painted wood, metal, plaster, and glass, three sections, Overall 69" x 25' 7" x 10" (175.3 x 779.8 x 25.4 cm).
Within Pablo Rasgado’s Work, the surfaces of the walls often are the detonators of his research, which are revealed as evidence of complex situations that lie underneath them, and by doing so, they highlight features of the site that usually remain invisible. His interventions in urban spaces draw their conclusions, by the information gathered though the study of the accumulated social experience within an architectural setting. They try to place the attention towards an inquiry about history, function and form by questioning the relationship between function and design within specific contexts; the analysis of urban change and its cultural value; and the potential of inactive spaces within cities.
Pablo Rasgado, Mural , 2019, Construction materials from the demolition of a house, 244 x 760 cm.
Pablo Rasgado’s work transforms ordinary materials from public and institutional spaces into compelling abstract compositions. By reappropriating fragments of painted walls—whether from city streets or temporary museum installations—he captures layers of visual and social history embedded in these surfaces. His approach preserves the essence of a moment, frozen in time, yet recontextualized. Rasgado’s Unfolded Architecture series, for instance, abstracts specific moments in museum and art history, echoing a conceptual homage to Mexican muralism. Rather than illustrating historical scenes, Rasgado utilizes fragments of everyday walls, rich with contextual layers, to create abstractions that resonate with historical depth. Through this innovative reuse of space’s “background” materials, Rasgado forges a direct connection to Mexico’s artistic past, infusing his work with the physical residue of lived experiences and cultural narratives.
Pablo Rasgado, When the symbols shatter, 2019, Structure in wood, light, and acrylic, 144 x 62 x 14 in., 366 x 158 x 36 cm.
Pablo Rasgado, Ventana, 2019, Bricks, 52 x 66 in., 133 x 168 cm.
Jonas or The artist at work is written by Albert Camus. Plot of this story is about impossible, the desire to create, searching himself in painting, problems in relationships and sacrificing himself to his family and creations. It`s all about tragedy of artist`s life. I had faced with objective to include hand-printed illustrations with some transformation and performance of page`s ply. I hope that I made it as well as I planned. All illustrations are made in etсhing and aquatint - strong and simple graphic technique, that’s why reader will not go under unnecessary imposed associations and details. Characters was depicted with linear emotional drawing, it`s contrasted with text about false coloured life of painter. Bookcover is covered with blank white canvas, it`s describes last significant painting of Jonas. Main illustration is in the middle of the book block. It is façade of windows. Different moments of artist`s life are arranged in every window. Reader can put book and transform illustration like a yard. Then viewer can pry for artist like unfriendly neighbors. Reader can observe all happiness and misery of artist`s family. This is studying project includes illustrations, page-proofs and book binding.
The city grows spontaneously. Disordered. Up and down, wherever there is space. Every style is mixed together. There is no development plan for the cities in Brazil, so they become a huge architectonic collage. It is after this perception of the city that this work was created. As a play, collages are made from disconnected pieces of houses and buildings in order to create other ones. These new buildings are strange but, even though, they seem very familiar, once it is like that our perception works. The series consists of 19 collages
(de)constructions #4, Photography and collage, 82 x 130 cm.
(de)constructions #17, Photography and collage, 67 x 100 cm.
Genius Loci is a journey to a multitude of places, urban and rural, inhabited and peopleless, accessible and secluded. The project explores the character and the spirit of the place. Each work is a visual archive, where one picture concentrates the essence and the feeling of a visited site. Streets and mountain passes, encounters on the road and off-road are a rich source of visual information such as form, color and texture; at the same time, all the encountered environments contain something incorporeal. Ancient Romans believed that every place has a protective spirit - genius loci; in contemporary usage, genius loci refers to location’s specific atmosphere and the way it is experienced. Each work is composed of numerous photographs of buildings and landscape forms that are true and authentic for a studied area. These works balance between documentary and fiction, factual and imaginary spaces, and become keepers of the memory and the spirit of the Place.
Genius loci / RU / The other side of St.Petersburg, Collage, printed on paper, various sizes.
Genius loci / NL / 2009.
Genius loci / IT / 2011
Recording my visible environment and ordinary occurrences of daily life has been the persistent pursuit of my practice. I am fascinated by our relationship with the spaces that frame and objects that fill most daily lives, and yet, are overlooked as we move through our routines in a state of inattentional blindness.
Do Not Enter, partially expanded view, 18 × 23 × 80 cm (extended), 1998. This is a tunnel book that leads you through contradictory experiences of a text which attempts to deny entrance and images that beckon by offering passageways. It obliquely refers to the absurdity of attempting to define territory.
Obvert, hand bound bookwork with accordion structure, photogravure and letterpress, 28.5 × 21 × 1 cm (closed) and 43 × 140 cm (expanded), 1997.
In this work, I am exploring how the ordinary can so easily become the extraordinary. Initially, the images and text describe a childhood memory of interior space inverting but then as one moves through the book and closer to the spaces, the shift between normal and odd occurs via representations of tactile sensations.
Details of pink story: sinistral, opening the book work and fully opened view, 96 × 122 cm (expanded size), 2004—05.
This two-volume collaborative work with Barb Hunt brings together two seemingly contradictory representations of a woman's life. pink story: dextral is an artificially constructed narrative of a stereotypical woman's life. Paint chips offer the promise of covering flaws, and the paint surface creates a façade. In contrast to this external perspective, pink story: sinistral presents an internalized story; constructed of photographs that represent spaces metaphoric of key stages in a woman's life. The use of the tile format in both volumes links the pieces together formally, and the visual narratives become mosaics. The result is two volumes that are like mirror images, reflecting each other, and offering to the viewer a paradoxical reality.
Townsite House, 25.3 × 25.3 cm (page size), 2006. The Townsite House Project is a two-part body of work consisting of a series of 34 toned, fibre-based silver gelatin prints and a book work. The project was inspired by the experience in living in Corner Brook’s Townsite area. Four models of homes were built in the 1920-30’s by the pulp and paper mill for their management and skilled labour. I photographed in five homes – all the same model as the one I live in. I wanted to provide a reading experience that would give the visual equivalence of the uncanny experience of being in homes that are the same/not the same as mine. The book work makes use of a mediated process of representation. Using photogravure, film transparencies, screenprinting and letterpress, the hand bound book work layers and mirrors images and text to echo the architectural palimpsest. The videos of the maquettes provide information on the evolution of the structure and content of the book work.
Glaze: Reveal:, 21 × 42 cm, 2013.
Glaze: Reveal and Veiled is one of a series of book works inspired by the experience of living in Corner Brook’s Townsite area on the west coast of the island of Newfoundland. Between 1924-34 the pulp mill built 150 homes to house the mill management and skilled labourers. Over a period of 10 years, I have photographed in several homes, all the same model as the one I live in. These homes vary in condition from close to original in design and décor to highly renovated. This project gave me the rare opportunity to record the evolution of interior aspects of these homes. It has been the context to explore the paradoxical phenomena of conformity and individualization that occurs in a company town. Having grown up in a suburban housing development, my earliest memories of home is that of living in a space that is reminiscent of my neighbors’. Each artist’s book explores a distinct facet of image memory, multiplicity, sequence and offers the viewer a visual equivalence of the uncanny. Glaze: Reveal and Veiled presents 24 images of Townsite windows grouped into two distinct sequences. The structure is a dos à dos and each side offers a different visual metaphor for memory. The closed book is contained within a wrapper and the viewer has the option of choosing which side to enter first. Each begins similarly with endpapers made from scans of window curtains followed by line drawings of the window frames as the graphic for the title pages. Moving into Glaze: Reveal, the viewer is presented with a spread consisting of a blank white space on the verso and dense black on the recto. Turning the page, the next spread presents an image of a window on the verso and a dense black field on the recto with a glimmer of light appearing. As the viewer continues to move through the pages, each spread reveals a new window image that has been visually peeled away from the densely layered recto. The layering slowly becomes visible revealing the final presentation of single images. In contrast, moving into Glaze: Veiled the viewer begins with a window image that is layered with the previous title page line drawing. In the next spread, the same window is presented alone on the verso. The recto side layers the previous images as well as introducing the upcoming image. The viewer experiences a visual déjà vu each time the pages turn. The progress through the work results in ever more layered and veiled images.
Glaze: Veiled: , 21 × 42 cm, 2013
Clarissa Sligh, What’s Happening With Momma? (Outside), 1987, Silk-screened with acrylic ink on 100% rag Coventry 320 gram soft white paper and 100% rag Stonehenge 250 gram cream paper.
What’s Happening with Momma? is a dimensional, house-shaped book that unfolds to tell an autobiographical story from the author. The book is shaped like her childhood home, a row house with steps where she sat as a child hearing scary noises coming from within. Sligh engages her viewers to walk through the rooms of this house to learn about her memories of her sister’s birth – her momma’s screams; her brother trembling; her rocking back and forth; the stork bringing her new sister.
Empty Lot in The West Village, from the series The Space Between, 2014
Three Blue Windows, from the series The Space Between, 2013.
Side of Building, from the series The Space Between, 2013.
Building Split, from the series The Space Between, 2013.
In this series, select historical buildings are portrayed in altered cityscapes and invented spaces that evoke the experience of memory, imagination and dream states playing out in a magical place. Strangely familiar, the buildings are elevated in a fictional composition that appears to tell a story or reflect a past history, but their power resides more in the realm of sensation than explicit narrative. The buildings seem to emerge from the landscape, shaped by the space around them or, in some cases, by the space between them. These surrealistic alterations of New York’s architectural skyline are a cross between imagination and documentation. As portraits, they are meant to reconstitute awareness and preserve the buildings through adjustments in reality and perception.
I’ve always been drawn to the majestic details and materials of classical historical buildings, many of which are hidden from view, tucked behind new architecture, or simply overlooked. Often discovered from rooftops or accessible from private views, I feel compelled to capture the slivers of the old, recreate the buildings to make them whole, and restructure them in place and history.
The series "restarchitektur" is a long time project, I am still working on. The idea is to show architecture without showing architecture. The series is taken on large format. On big prints you can see the slight marks of bygone architecture. Onetime in form of a world map decorated from the inhabitant , another time as marks of stairs from a former staircase.
This reminds of lithography. After grinding down layers of limestone to create a clean surface for printing, a ghost image of a previous print can sometimes spontaneously surface as a reminder of the stone's past experiences.
PLEXUS (2011), woodblock print on paper with mirrors.
In Front of Behind the Wall, (2011), woodblock print on paper.
Zimmer Frei, (2012), woodblock print on fabric with wood and wire.
Rob Swainston reminds us we are not just consumers of icons, but producers and observers of images. All images are historically negotiated assemblages between humans, machines, materials, and social structures. In a society where social knowledge and power have become pure image, the print technologies historically central to this transformation can act as double-agent. Artists working in print media can be chameleons moving between image makers and image reproducers. Image reproducers are technocrats, proto-machines, and images-smiths in building the spectacle world order. In their perfection they ask no questions. Artists are image makers showing an image constructed, built, repeated, overprinted, coded, decoded, and endlessly negotiated. For the printmaker, the press bed is not a window of illusion, it is the space of social tinkering. The artist is a hacker. Rob Swainston performs this hack through two interrelated bodies of work—series of unique multiples and printstallations. Installations such as ‘A New System Every Monday’ and ‘All that is Solid Melts into Air’ mix print media, sculpture, painting, drawing and video to point out architectural, institutional, historical, and social spaces. Series of standardized works such as ‘Who Owns the Sky?’ and ‘Propositions’ move between representation and abstraction such that neither of these categories are important. The viewer participates in an “archeology of uncovering”, discerning numerous processes and images containing multiplicities of narratives culminating in an uncovering of the “significant image” and the realization “I see myself seeing myself.”
Ireland’s prettiest ghost estate: Quaint 800,000 euro thatched cottages sit empty because no one can afford them
Perhaps the fact that they started at an asking price of 820,000 euros each, when auctioneers say they are now worth just 200,000 euros, is the reason they lie empty.
Though some locals once suggested to a reporter that the unused development should be knocked, it has now been rescued by two Waterford city businessmen, who bought the 14 properties. According to the Property Price Register, numbers 11 to 14 were bought for €85,000 each last December, while the first 10 were purchased for €850,000 in February this year.
Rochestown Road in Rochestown, Co Cork.
The estate was originally designed by BOC Architects and built in 2008. The four homes are currently on the market for €1.24 million, 16 years after they were originally meant to be sold.
The properties have no internal work completed at all. This means, once you go inside, they are nothing more than the skeleton of the house. There are no electrical fittings, no running water and all windows are completely bordered up - some with wooden boards, others with metal.
Song Dong, Same Bed Different Dreams No. 3, 2018.
Song Dong’s art confronts notions of memory, impermanence, waste, consumerism and the urban environment. Simultaneously poetic and political, personal and global, his work explores the intricate connection between life and art.
Same Bed Different Dreams No. 3 (2018) has been created using everyday household objects, such as crockery, pendant lights and decorative knick-knacks. These mundane objects are presented on a double bed carrying the memory of the rise of his generation, behind a polished case composed of salvaged window panels, the useless byproduct of modernization. Though each window has been carefully enhanced by Song Dong with vibrantly coloured mirror or glass, their recycled nature is nevertheless evident from the still flaking paint and rusting latches. These collaged remnants of people’s homes carry with them the history of a city and the lives of its people. As viewers are invited to peek inside, they are transformed into voyeurs: imagining their homes, their stories and perhaps identifying shared experiences, and primed to think of the future.
Song Dong has continued his investigations of the varied cultural meanings of windows. As barriers between living spaces and the wider world, windows offer key perspective through which people view the outside environment. In the process of being opened or closed, windows can alter the relationships between individuals and the external world. Through changes in color and form, they can transform the world’s appearance in the eyes of the viewer. Song Dong’s work builds on the rhetorical and aesthetic significance that has been associated with windows since ancient times.
Song Dong, Usefulness of Uselessness - Compressed Window No. 03, 2020-2021.
Shannon Valley, Co. Roscommon, Ireland.
There are 38 houses in the estate; 23 are unoccupied and in various states of disrepair and dereliction.
A single street light standing in a neighbouring, fenced field is all that remains of the final phase of 20 houses that were demolished in 2014 with a “special resolution fund” of €250,000 from the Government.
There were things built that should not have been built
Lorcan Sirr, lecturer in housing studies at Dublin Institute of Technology suggests a novel use for some estates as a lesson to “evidence-free policy” pursued by government during the boom times: “Maybe it is no harm to leave one or two standing as a reminder of what not to do.
Boherbue, Co Cork.
Lios na Gréine in Lismire, Co Cork.
Rachel Whiteread House 1993
House was only ever intended to be a temporary monument, and its ultimate disappearance will be an act of completion. That this stack of sealed rooms, perched one upon another should itself be turned into a memory seems fitting. It is an idea which, for a protracted moment, enters the world of things, and then is gone. ‘House’, she said, ‘is to do with memory and ultimately it will become just that.’ 'House makes a point about the smallness and fragility of the spaces we actually live in, worry about, decorate....all those things that are part of life.’ An essentially hidden, private space has, by an act of inversion, become a physical, public expression. What, finally, has been exposed is an empty setting, a place where people once led a life of intimacies, grew up, grew old and died. And, one might add, fucked, rowed, worried, slept, ate, shat, fought, laughed and lied. No one looks out of the windows any more, no one puts out the milk bottles on the stoop; no one shouts ‘Kevin comein you tea’s ready’ or returns home late from the pub and fumbles with the keys to the lock: no one, not even Rachel, lives here any more. House is a dead space.
Rachel Whiteread, Study for House, 1992
In his work, Halmans often explores the domestic world and sees a home as a place where life fluctuates between a public and a private sphere. Halmans examines how we as humans live in these two different areas. One could call the artist a 'house expert': he is an accomplished carpenter, plumber and bricklayer and therefore knows everything about houses. Within his work, however, houses or parts of them assume a kind of dream shape. In this respect, his series of "architectural vacuum cleaners" reflects his vision well.
"Forgetting is alarming," he says, "everything has been in vain, meaningless, if you were content with forgetting."
Basement II, 2014.
Even more Rooms for Reading, 2014.
Some New Rooms, 2021.
My work centers on the notion of what is a home. It is an exploration of that which is most emotive, where is it that we belong, and how can we, in this modern state of upheaval, find our safe place. The paintings query if it is the presence of people that turn a house into a home, and what it says about our community when there are houses left empty. My work centres on the notion of what is a home. It is an exploration of that which is most emotive, where is it that we belong and how can we, in the modern state of upheaval, find our safe place. The paintings query if it is the presence of people that make a house a home, and what is says about our community when building are left empty. I utilise a clean, hard edge technique. Currently I am incorporating three dimensional elements into my work, physically building the scene behind stretched canvas and treating it then as a traditional painting. It is an experimental look at the spaces we occupy.
Kitchen Living, Acrylic on canvas, 2023, 20cm x 20cm.
Wardrobe, Acrylic on canvas, 2023, 20cm x 20cm.
@ The Lord Mayors Pavillion
The Grammar of Home presents moments of domesticity and maps the idea of home, universally held, but the meaning of which is unique to each of us. Home is the space each of us carves out for ourselves- it is in the objects we select, the family we share, and the street we walk everyday. The familiarity of home is both mundane and sublime. In the wake of pandemic when confined to home, and our 2km radius, our collective focus on home, the everyday and our immediate surroundings was heightened. It was through this time that Chris, Colette and Síomha each began their exploration of what constitutes home, and what transforms a building or neighbourhood into home? Through Chris’ interactive work we see a family’s life played out, within familiar games and domestic snap-shots, ……. Colette’s miniature paintings of nostalgic furniture, often found on daft.ie deep-dives, long both for the familiarity of granny’s house and the hope to buy somewhere to create a home. In contrast Síomha’s intimate documentary photography captures the nuanced textures and perspectives of her daily explorations throughout spring 2020. Though often shared and negotiated, home should be a space of sanctuary, of return and comfort. This exhibition is poignant times of war, mass-migration, and the Irish housing-crisis when so many are without a home and striving for its’ security and embrace. ……
Colette Cronin
Colette Cronin, Fireplace
Chris Finnegan,
Síomha Callanan
THE HORSE WHISPERER, 2024
A SEA OF GRIEF CONDUCTED BY A LITTLE LONE CHILD, 2024
THE GARDENS BELOW VESUVIUS, 2024 and THE GARDENS, 2024
I have a friend who worked in a bookshop some years ago and told the story of a parent coming in with her small child looking for books on dinosaurs. She was pointed in the direction of a few possibilities but returned to the desk for assistance. ‘Why are there none with photographs in them? He wants photographs.' Alexis Soul-Gray’s work returns us to this slip in the carriage of truth, as she engages painting’s flexibilities: kneading and teasing her late mother’s absence and absence from images into malleable, surrogate forms. Images of mothers and children from brochures and catalogues pervade the work, as willing but vocational substitutes. If the photograph goes misty, has been erased, never existed or just won’t tell the particular story that needs telling, we can seek out a cast of cut-outs and re-shape and bend the visual languages of our pasts to suit. There is no resolve or reformation of the past conjured through time travel but painting as a DeLorean for its exorcising is, here, materially exquisite, bringing us a theatre of seductive substitution. ‘I attempt to find the untouchable, the impossible in the faces of these women and children, they are my mother and I, but also and at the same time, you/they/them and nothing at all.’
Not Under My Roof, 2009, Framed Photograph, 100.5 x 106.5 cm; 82.5 x 88.2cm.
Floor of entire farmhouse from Millmerran Queensland, wood, linoleum, 11 x 12 meters,
Staircase-III, 2010. Do Ho Suh is a South Korean artist who works primarily in sculpture, installation, and drawing. Suh is well known for re-creating architectural structures and objects using fabric in what the artist describes as an "act of memorialization." Is home a place, a feeling, or an idea? Suh asks timely questions about the enigma of home, identity and how we move through and inhabit the world around us.
Blue House, 2013.
Dos Sistemas, 2011.
Independence, 2024.
Ireland 2023 “I believe art can be understood both conceptually and intuitively. I think there is a need for the general public to come to an understanding that to appreciate art and creativity they must trust his or her self; that extensive education is not a prerequisite for understanding art. Much of what I do is seeded in what is more of an intuitive process; a large portion of my work is exploring these processes within people and their environments. The fact is, I believe that creativity is a part of all aspects of what people do; my studio and educational efforts via workshops and the support of outside programming, general educational and cultural institutions, are a reflection of this belief. I feel that art is tool for empowerment and education. It’s also a viable tool to investigate positive change and engage a culture through the use of exploration. ”
“psychological relationships between human beings and the objects that we live with and produce.”
Thrum The MAC, Belfast, 2022 Dyed canvas, steel, rust, steel wire, linen thread, embroidered rust stained linen fabric, engine grease, machined aluminium.