Hello new followers! Just letting you know that I’m out of tumblr action for a bit. Between my normal job at frankie magazine, media managing, an eminent book deal (lips are sealed until I sign the contract!) and maintaining the facade of having a social life that exists outside of Twitter, I don’t have enough time to keep this baby updated.
Stay tuned!
I’m at frankie magazine! Sorry that I have neglected you, oh you tumblr blog of goodness you.
As I am now working full time at frankie as their brand spankin’ new editorial assistant and online editor (huzzah!), I no longer can keep you, dear tumblr. I am afraid this is goodbye for now.
However, if you want to keep reading my exploits, I post daily on www.frankie.com.au, and you can read my non-crochet-related rants bi-monthly in the print magazine. That or you can follow my punny pundit ways on Twitter (@georgiafrancesk). The latter is slightly more inane, but only slightly.
Thanks tumblr. You’ve been swell.
How did it come to be that the poster boy for chillwave (a word that is in strenuous debate with Pitchfork readers from here to hipsterdom) is a shy, married library-school graduate from America’s deep south? Well, he doesn’t really known the answer either.
Creating tunes from his bedroom in Georgia that sound like they should be sunning themselves on some intergalactic beach, Ernest Greene, aka Washed Out, found himself riding a wave of second generation MySpace discoveries.
A couple of blogs later, Greene was thrust into the misty glare of the spotlight. After never having left America, he was playing all around Europe, touring with Best Coast and kicking it with the heavyweights of the indie music scene. It has taken 18 months, but he’s finally come across the seas to Australia. Lifelounge had a chat to him ahead of his long swim.*
*Note: this interview is to be read in an incredibly endearing Georgian accent, not like this one.
Read my interview here.
Mike Matas is equally as able to capture moments of drunken elation as he is the perils of underprivileged communities. From the penguins in Antarctica, to slum children holding hands in India, all the way to the beer swigging festival crowds of America, Matas displays moments of cohesion where everyone within his lens is united by some unknown force.
See the contrast here.
All of Juan Francisco Casas’ pieces are drawn exclusively with Bic biros. Hundred and hundreds of Bic biros. Thousands of them. Squillions. He’s probably responsible for certain species of squid becoming endangered with all of the ink that he saps. Not that we mind though, because the pieces that come out of it are somwhat amazing. Often a couple of metres tall, the detail and precision that is required to create such work makes our eyes go fuzzy. Someone give that man a stationary sponsorship.
Have a closeup look here.
Growing up in West Vancouver, Lucas Soi was given two options: grow old, or get high. His latest series, called Cradle Stories, has been two years in the making, and represents the self destructive but apathetic nature of wayward youth. There are numerous scenes of sacrifice and ritualistic offering that are portrayed very matter of factly. It almost looks like a scene out of a dark ages history book, before you note the candybar wrappers strewn around the defaced tombstones, and the guys riding their jeans around their thighs. Stuck between the future and the past, the subjects are in limbo, frozen in Soi’s ink.
More here.
If the high school football team had mascots like these, we’re pretty sure that would have paid much more attention in Phys Ed class.
Morgan Slade’s Savage Justice photography series depicts a bunch of bangin’ ladies wearing massive mascot masks. For many men, they probably combine all of your favourite things into one photograph: hot scantily clad women in lycra, football, and in some cases, Star Wars. The girls wearing the KISS style Trooper helmets score the most points for us.
See the series here.
Todd James is yet another street artist to jump proverbial ship, and swim to the more lucrative gallery shore. Of course, we could all get on our high horses about the commercialisation of artistic practice, but we really shouldn’t shoot the man down.
Wow, talk about mixed metaphors. It’s sounding like a viking-style invasion, isn’t it? Battle ships, cavalry, weaponry… We obviously have war on the mind, and after looking through James’ works, you can probably see why.
Get offended here.
American photographer Ted Partin is interested in that mind blanked raw moment called ‘The Gaze’ (not the Australian basketballer). The process of capturing these moments is incredibly lengthy, but is helped by his photographic method. Partin shoots with an 8 x 10 inch Deardorff camera, which has the same technological advancements as the wheel. Using the same plates that were used in the 19th century, it takes a long time to set it up for exposure. So by the time he gets around to taking the photograph, everybody is pretty glazed over in the first place.
It would have been a lot easier to just sit his subjects down in front of the National Geographic channel with a packet of crisps. The Gaze comes pretty quickly that way.
Have a peek here.
Mark Peckmezian has the ability to capture people’s insides. Instead of paying for a shrink and a serious personality x-ray, Peckmezian will take a photograph of you that will tell you exactly what’s going on in that head of yours. His lens penetrates the id, pulling out the darkest of secrets, the craziest of shindigs, and the widest of smiles. His subjects’ eyes are as open and vulnerable as a deer in the middle of an open plain, all doe-eyed in the headlights of his flash.
More here.
