Marcel Berlanger / Caravaggio

Caravaggio

Medusa

1595-1598

oil on canvas mounted on a convex wooden shield

55 x 48 cm

Galleria degli Uffizi, Florence

My version of Medusa is a painting on a light box with big holes. It is a portrait of Noami Watts as the jellyfish (funny translation of Medusa of course) of Caravaggio. The portrait is extracted from the King Kong movie by Peter Jackson, just when Naomi is sandwiched between a tyrannosaur and King Kong. But if you look closely you only see the many spots of the Hollywood studio lights in her eyes. I added neon lamps behind the painting to create wedged stupefaction between two technical moments, and the holes are connectors.

Marcel Berlanger, 2014

Marcel Berlanger (BE)

Enseigne Méduse 
front

2011-2012

aluminium lightbox, neons, oil on glass fibre

260 x 160 x 18 cm 

 
Marcel Berlanger (BE)

Enseigne Méduse

back
2011-2012

aluminium lightbox, neons, oil on glass fibre

260 x 160 x 18 cm 

www.marcelberlanger.info

Caren van Herwaarden / Francisco de Zurbarán

Francisco de Zurbarán

Agnus Dei

1635–1640

oil on canvas

37 × 62 cm

Museo del Prado, Madrid

In Zurbaran’s art all is silent. His sober brown/black/white paintings do not distract with colour, narrative or lavish form. He paints metre-high portraits of pale monks, wrapped in coarsely woven, brown robes. They look at you seriously and questioningly: who are you, what are you doing and where were you? They are encounters. 

The Agnus Dei of 1635-1640 is my favourite. It hangs in the main room of the Prado Museum, Madrid, in the company of the enormous paintings by, among others, Velazquez and El Greco. A lamb lies on its side, its head stretched out, its four feet tied together. It does not struggle; it lies still and awaits its fate. Who are you, what are you doing, where were you? You do not have to be a believer nor an Einstein to discover the analogy with Jesus Christ, but through Zurbaran’s understatement you get the idea that you have thought it up yourself. 

I thought of Spain, the time I went walking with my dog. I thought of how my trusty, gentle hound, on coming across a flock of sheep, turned within seconds into a raging killer. I realized that nothing I could do would keep him from going after those roaming clouds, the fluffy beasts. Sheep do not defend themselves. It does not occur to them to join together to protect their lambs. All they do is flee, let themselves be driven into the barbed wire. They surrender with no resistance. Barely a half hour later the dog returned, panting and happily wagging his tail, while behind him, spread out in the meadow, lay three dead lambs. Why? Because he was able do it. Unsatisfying, but for the question of why atrocities take place this is probably the most definitive answer.

Caren van Herwaarden, 2015

Caren van Herwaarden (NL)

Deken

2014

collage

30 x 16 cm

private collection Rotterdam

www.cvanherwaarden.com 

Luc Hoekx / Jorge de Oteiza

Jorge de Oteiza

Caja Vacia

1958

iron and copper

29,5 x 30,6 x 32,6 cm

Even more than by other painters (  ), I was inspired by sculptors and architects. A real eye-opener to me was this work by Jorge de Oteiza (Spain, 1908-2003).

The design is as complex as simple. It tells me how I look at space and form, although the work remains enigmatic.

As an icon in geometric abstract tradition, it is also an early announcement of deconstructivism.

Luc Hoekx, 2015

Luc Hoekx (BE)

Raum

2011

oil on aluminium

70 x 80 cm

www.luchoekx.be

Bert Frings / Emil Nolde

Emil Nolde

Masks, Still Life

1911

oil on canvas

73 x 77,5 cm

'The Broken Ear' seems to be a spontaneous and expressive painting, however it is made slow and deliberate. The work is loosely based on a painting by Emil Nolde, a German Expressionist, who was briefly a member of Die Brücke. Since I can remember I have been fascinated by expressionism. Especially since I saw paintings by Heckel, Kirchner and Nolde at a young age.

There are a hundred years between his 'Masks, Still Life' from 1911 and my painting 'The Broken Ear'. I very much like his revolutionary painting. I look at it as a hymn of praise to other until then unknown cultures. A courageous painting of artifacts, masks, represented with radical gesture in radiant colors, made by an individual, receptive to the unknown and mysterious. This seems so contradictory with his ideas and thoughts. A brilliant work but the more I try to learn both about work and the life of one of the most famous artists ever, the less I understand.

The title of my painting is both a nod to Hergé because of his stereotypical characterizations and questions about his alleged collaboration with Germany, but even more a tribute to the Arumbaya people.

Bert Frings, december 2014

Bert Frings (NL)

The Broken Ear

2011

acrylic on canvas

70 x 70 cm

www.bertfrings.nl

Joseba Eskubi / Francisco de Zurbarán

Francisco de Zurbarán

Agnus Dei

1635–1640

oil on canvas

38 × 62 cm

Museo del Prado, Madrid

The animal becomes an island, a solitary figure in front of the abyss and the silence. I am fascinated by this image, how all the little details create a landscape frozen in time. The light illuminates the scene and reveals us the material as something new and amazing.

Joseba Eskubi, 2014

Joseba Eskubi (ES)

Untitled

2014

oil on canvas

55 x 46 cm

www.josebaeskubi.com

Bruno Dunley / George Braque

George Braque

Clarinet and Bottle of Rum on a Mantelpiece

1911

oil on canvas

81 x 60 cm

Bruno Dunley (BR)

untitled

2014

oil on canvas

200 x 150 cm

http://www.nararoesler.com.br/en/artists/35-bruno-dunley

Damien Meade / All Dead Painters

 
Hand stencils

Cueva de El Castillo

Cantabria, Spain

c. 35,000 BCE

People die, and things survive them. We look for meaning everywhere, fervently in the things of the dead. But some of these things are constructed in such a way that they seem to activate and respond to our random projections, feeding on them, and swelling into a feedback loop of call and response. Paintings are these things. C.S. Peirce defines an index as a category of sign that maintains a physical tie to its referent. Every painting is indexical, an index of consciousness itself. In work, every painter is like a deaf-mute. So in death, there is no voice lost, but consciousness prevails.

Damien Meade, 2014

Damien Meade (IE/BG)

Untitled

2013

oil on linen on board

46.5 x 35.5 cm

 

Damien Meade (IE/BG)

Structure no.2

2014

oil on linen on board

42 x 52 cm

www.damienmeade.com