Category Archives: Art

Madonna is a legend.

Madonna by Herb Ritts is an icon.

Prince is a genius.

Prince in ‘Purple Rain’ is an icon.

Michael Jackson is a king.

Michael Jackson doing the moon walk is an icon.

The delineation is subtle, but important.

Troy Gua is an artist.

Troy Gua’s work is iconic.

Reflecting the world of pop culture, bending it to his vision, and presenting his own glorious version of a pop universe has made Troy Gua into one of the most exciting contemporary artists. Very much a product of the 80’s, when Warholian soup cans and Haring stick figures brought pop art into colorful, modern-day focus, Gua brings the stylistic flourishes of that decade into the present-day artistic landscape, making the image of a pop moment into an iconic creation.

Take a look at the featured commission piece of Madonna featured above, (or any of his spectacular ‘Pop Hybrid’ series for that matter). On its shiny surface it is at once familiar, but also brand new. Combining the visages of several Madonna moments over the years, it yields a prismatic result that resonates through three decades and still manages to be remarkably of the moment. Through the clever use of shadows, layering, and an assembly of images that any student of the Madonna canon knows well, it is an instantly-eternal classic ~ the very definition of an icon. Its glossy sheen, the immediate recognition of the subject, and the bold juxtaposition of opposing interpretations – sinner and saint, virgin and whore, past and future, relevant and passé – is what gives the work such nuanced heft. This is what separates and elevates an iconic artist like Gua from the rest of the pack.

I imagine a future where the world is out of room. It’s a world where, in order to save space, even our thoughts, our memories, our nostalgia becomes distilled, consolidated, hybridized, and layered on top of itself. ‘Pop Hybrids’ are the reduction of personality into logo, the reduction of individuality into the collective, the reduction of photography into design. They are a subtraction of images: the recycling, re-using and reducing of two or more images into a new and unique iconographic collection of shapes. Conceptually opposed to Warhol’s emphasis on repetition, this work suggests that we are running out of space even for our cultural icons to retain a solo spot light in our crowded collective conscience. The work deals with iconography, ironic duality and satirical juxtapositions. By layering thoughtfully paired cultural icons with one another, these visually arresting pieces challenge the viewer to decipher the image while making the sardonic, metaphorical and sometimes philosophical connections within the image. ~ Troy Gua

As he hones his skills and refines his output, Gua’s work has become iconic in its own way, with a trademark look and a deceptively clean style that straddles the line between the abstract and the completely recognizable. His output functions partly as a way of both combating and celebrating the fracturing of a collective experience and mainstream popularity that has been the bane and boon of pop culture in the age of the internet. The dilution of impact and ubiquity, coupled with an ease of distribution, has transformed the age in which we live. Artists can reach the world in a single click, and so can anyone with the slightest artistic inclination. The internet knows no such distinction, and good and bad alike can make the most of an egalitarian system that has yet to filter out the posers. The real artists – the truly great ones – will carry on much as they always have, and the best still have a way of rising to the top.

{For more of Gua’s work and background, please visit his captivating website, ‘The Art of Troy Gua – Contemporary Pop Conceptualism.‘}

My hat goes off to anyone who lives an artistic life, and no one exemplifies that more than Thomas Wolski. He recently updated his website here, so the whole world can get a glimpse into the fascinating world of his artwork, and it contains a gorgeous lot of gems and jewels ripe and waiting for excavation. Illustrations, painting, and photography are all on display, sometimes intertwined in glorious thought-provoking ways.

Regarding his whimsical painted photography process, he explains his vision thusly: “I see the finished piece before I have even taken the picture. It’s no good stock-piling images that are pretty in hopes of a story, the best tales are those told in the moment.”

Pop art doesn’t usually get its proper due until it proves itself worthy of standing the test of time, but true talent resonates in the moment, and Mr. Wolski manages to be both forward-looking and introspective, a powerful combination that lends itself to explosive self-expression. His work is richly varied, often imbued with witty humor but sometimes more weighty matter.

I have never been a fantastic painter, but I don’t care. For me it is the execution of the idea that is important, physically getting it down on paper to be seen by others. It’s my way of printing that big thought bubble above my head.

Witness his art installation at Hackett London below, proof that his work is living, breathing, vital and engaging. It demands a bit more of the viewer, and the invitation is inherent in the wit at work, as well as the crowd-pleasing pop culture touchstone references.

His work teases and delights, drawing in the spectator with a wry smile, a nudge, a challenge. While often instantly accessible on the surface, there are details and layers to all of his pieces, subtle hints at the complexity of the work, demanding revisits and continued contemplation.

That’s the sign of a true artist: their work lingers in the mind long after the viewing.

[Visit Thomas Wolski’s website here for an in-depth look at his world – and stick around for a bit more of him later today.]

It’s usually the people who do what I could never do that impress me the most, particularly when it comes to artists. Painters and sculptors especially – those gifted folks who can conjure a thing of beauty or fascination with their minds and hands and raw materials – they never fail to fill me with awe and admiration. Taking a blank canvas and creating a world where none existed is the province of heavenly work. If ever I doubt the existence of something greater at hand here, a work of art always calms my soul, and restores my faith.

The first time I met Thomasa Nielsen was, fittingly, at a First Friday event in Albany. She was talking about a painting with such animation and excitement that I knew she was an artist. A few weeks later I saw some of her work at the Upstate Artists Guild and was blown away. There was passion and power in her pieces ~ in some a whimsical thread of playfulness, in others an underlying pull of melancholy. These aren’t quiet paintings – they yell and scream in joy and sorrow, in pain and humor. They laugh loudly, weep openly, and cry out in passion. They are, at their cores, the visual heart of an artist, laid boldly before you.

She is perhaps best-known for her exaggerated scale and dramatic use of color – both of which initially drew me to her work. (I was lucky enough to be managing the Romaine Brooks Gallery when she had a solo exhibition there- and the riot of color and excitement on the walls made it one of my favorite shows ever.)

It’s sometimes a risky move to put your image in the hands of an artist, especially if you’re already insecure. You have no control over what might be conjured or created, and when the idea of being the subject of one of her paintings first came up, I was hesitant. What if I look ugly? What if my body isn’t good enough? What if everyone laughs at me? But Thomasa is a very captivating woman. Yet in all honesty it wasn’t her charm or persuasiveness – or even her kindness – that convinced me: it was her work. That gorgeous saturation of color, those brilliantly jarring juxtapositions of darkness and light, the challenging distortions of scale ~ I wanted to be a part of that. And so it was with great honor, and nervous humility, that I agreed to be a subject.

She asked me my favorite colors and color combinations, what inspired me, and how I would describe myself. I sent her a list of inspirational items that I thought might be helpful, as well as a CD of some of my favorite songs to give her an idea of what informed my world. Taking that, and a few photographs I sent her, she crafted this amazing painting. In it, she captures things I never noticed before, deeply personal things that I won’t expound upon here. A good artist can capture the essence of a person, a great one sees through to their very soul.

The piece is hung in the most prominent space of our dining room – on a wall that can now be seen from the kitchen and beyond – and it always tickles me that guests, when sitting down to eat, have an unobstructed view of my colorful ass. I’m not sure if that makes the food taste better or worse, but I enjoy the awkwardness of it.

In truth, it’s a beautiful piece in spite of my butt being front and center – the colors work marvelously in the space, brightening up the wall and adding a vital jolt of vibrancy to that formerly-staid room. The transitional shading fits brilliantly into its placement – there is a window to the right of the painting, which is where the light is coming from in the scene. What I like most is that the beauty of the composition, the way the colors complement and collide, makes one forget the subject matter completely. Only when someone is seeing it for the first time and remarking on it do I remember that it’s a naked butt on the dining room wall. That’s what a great work of art does – it mesmerizes with its beauty in such an absolute sense that all else fades away. Even my ass.