There’s a lot that I love about Marian Drew.  I discovered her work fairly recently and was instantly attracted to her roadkill animal still lifes, especially because they feature Australian animals (and this is a huge reason why I see value in looking at animals in death–one is given the opportunity to see and be close to an animal that it would have been in some cases impossible to experience so closely in life).

Drew works in the dark.  She composes her pictures while the lights are on, then turns them off and, with a flashlight, applies light to areas of her choosing like a paintbrush.  Drew believes this gives her photographs a religious, ethereal, or spiritual tone, and presents the animals as offerings or sacrifices.  The practice also refers to 17th century European still life paintings and gives that type of artmaking a modern touch.

In a great short video that shows Marian Drew creating and talking about her work, the artist expresses, “We see [animals] as beautiful when they’re hopping around on the television mostly, not even in real life, but then at death they become immediately discarded and a waste.”  I really enjoy the video (watch it here) and seeing an artist talk about making artwork using roadkill.  I’m sure many audiences, especially those not normally immersed in art, find it very strange to see someone talking about something so non-conventional with such candor.  I, for one, remember awkward silences and giggles during critiques of my work.  Perhaps people think someone must be crazy to care about and make photographs of dead animals, but I appreciate all that this artist is doing.

Visit artist's site: mariandrew.com.au

For the short time I was living in Baltimore, I really liked to go to the Cat Show at the Timonium fairgrounds.  There’s something fascinating about the diverse culture of people and their pets.  Amy Lombard’s photos of the first annual NYC Doggies & Tiaras Pageant for New York Magazine’s “The Cut” are so wild.  They remind me of Diane Arbus’ pictures of “deviant,” “marginal” people, only… dogs.  Over-the-top, glamorous doggie divas, in sensational color, and the unsurprising people who own them to match.  I think these pictures are bizarre and great.

Visit artist's site: amylombard.com

The first snow where I live is eminent tonight, so I’m enjoying looking at these soft, snowy pictures by Andrea Buzzichelli this morning.  Another artist recommended I look at this series, and when I did, the pictures reminded me a bit of Aled Lewis‘.  I always think photographs that play with scale and perspective are fun, but there’s also something really sad about these photos to me.  I think of animals where they’re not supposed to be, trying to get their families to safety.  The animals seem displaced and lonely.

From the artist’s statement: The human eye is not capable of taking in an objective reality.  It does not see things as they are, for it is subject to the will of a thinking being and to that being’s emotional state.  For this reason, every human view of the world is only partial and is in some way skewed.  I utilize photography in an effort to go beyond, or at least involve the “deluded” viewer in an attempt to arrive at a single reality.  It is a sort of game of comparison with a truth which is not necessarily deeper, but certainly “other.”  There is always something which escapes one’s view and our sense of certainty decreases the longer we fix our gaze; we are amazed as an almost entire parallel world becomes manifest.  The choice is ours whether to consider it imaginary, or, on the contrary, to hold it as all the more real.  “We don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are.” – Anais Nin

Visit artist's site: andreabuzzichelli.it

This image, “A bear sits alone in a pit in Kaliningrad zoo,” came across my radar a long time ago and has been stuck in my head since.  Its source when I found it was Magnum Photos, bringing me back to a site I hadn’t really visited in years.  When I was a young teenager, I loved Magnum.  I would spend hours on their site looking at what I thought were definitively the greatest photographers, and I dreamt of being one someday.  Browsing through Peter Marlow’s work was my first experience with the new Magnum site, which is pretty incredible.  Their search by photographer, category, continent, material, etc. makes the aspiring archivist in me light up.  Last fall, I read in an article about the new site, which displays 900-pixel-wide, watermark-less, saveable images:

It’s like the debate about illegal filesharing. There’s not point in trying to protect ourselves from the sea with sand castles. It’s not by trying to prevent people from downloading images that they will stop. They will find a way to download them and print them. Instead, what we can tell them is this: ‘If you want these images, come and get them, but from our own website. Then, have a look around and maybe you’ll find something else that’s interesting.’ In the past, the only way you could gain access to an image was by buying a book or visiting an exhibition or gallery. The problem is that not everyone is wealthy enough to buy a work of art. Instead, we can offer something else for them – a way to share our images, for example. And that will not necessarily affect our print sales.

To be a 65-year-old collective thinking about new and sensible ways to interact with and makes things available/accessible to the community is very cool.  I definitely appreciated being able to click through and save a few of the thousand images by Peter Marlow online… and that’s only the amount tagged “animal.”

Anyway, spending so much time looking at these images and choosing the handful for this post was special to me.  When I really fell head-over-heels in love with photography, probably in my sophomore year of college, it was a very specific kind of image that did it for me.  I loved square images, with straight-on, stark compositions, with the photograph’s subject unapologetically centered.  There’s something so poignant about this type of image, focusing in on what seems to be a perfect little moment.  Plus, I always think it’s fun to see the animal photographs of photographers who aren’t really known for making pictures of animals.  Animals creep into the oeuvre of all types of artists.  They’re kind of unavoidable that way.

Visit artist's site: petermarlow.com

Source: Magnum Photos

When I first saw these images, I was really struck by their beauty.  I love the light, the shapes, and the starkness of the composition.  Upon reading the artist’s statement, I fell even more in love with the work.  I would have gone crazy about the qualities I am appreciating now had I seen this artist’s paintings a few years ago when I was making pictures for my junior thesis!

From the artist’s statement: Recent Avian work is a collection of sensitive silent moments; some full of whimsical intrigue, others more surreal and seductive. These paintings draw inspiration from the enchanting and imaginative relationship between women and birds found in traditional mythologies and folklores.

The composition, light and positioning of the subject, creates curious images, which conjure up new “mythological” narratives or creatures within the paintings; using Feathers as armor, and birds as familiars. The sensitive brushwork on the figure’s flesh complements the delicate pattern of the feathers, however the compositions are bold and strong, and the figures are not frail or delicate; the feathers allude to strength, flight and bravery, rather than fragility.

Visit artist's site: amyjuddart.com

Source: Flickr