With my thoughts on Bret Easton Ellis' alternative worlds of nihilism, Reza Negarestani's Cyclonopedian whirlpools, Oil leaks in the Gulf of Mexico and the recent lurid ( Desperate Housewives, Glee, Ugly Betty ) U.S. television imports bombarding my pickled conscious with porocryptic notions and realities that'd only be envisioned in a sans-Twin Peaks universe I thought I ought to give a quick mention to the anomalous master of rabbit holes known as David Lynch . For years I've been a wide eyed fan of his Lynchean worlds, all his films, advertising, art and photographies have been poured over with wonder and admiration, Lynchs output is great and his vision is conveyed through a multitude of medium. Im not going to even attempt to say where is the best place to start with Lynch, there are many many accomplished monographs about him and its unfair to pick a particular film and his cinematic paradigm stretches more than the length of his feature film oeuvre into his advertising forays ( most recently with Gucci ). He also produced quite engrossing works of contemporary art, its this facet of his creative output that has spawned this rather lovely publication. Snowmen is a companion collection of 20 black and white photographs from his 2007 retrospective exhibition, The Air is On Fire, at the Fondation Cartier pour l’art Contemporain in Paris. All twenty of these haunting monochrome images were taken around the suburban lawns of Lynch's hometown Boise, Idaho, they showcase a facet of Lynch's work at it most honest - suburban, eerie and otherworldly. Pure Lynch. In comparison with some of his greater works ( and perhaps even in comparison with the whole The Air is On Fire exhibition ) this small white book may seem gimmicky but after years of sitting in dark rooms staring at the weirdly wholesome and sickly sweet this book contains some of his most innately Lynchean work produced so far.
Be busy creating illusions and shedding them -
10 hours ago