Shout out to Anika and Nasty Nate for being down, and to Morgan and co. for handling. The Day After Valentine’s Day was one to remember. Whole party going crazy. Thank you for supporting Wine & Bowties, check out some pics from the night right here.
February marked the first installment in our nascent discussion series, Talks, where we opened up a conversation about creativity and entrepreneurship. For the inaugural, we called on a superstar cast of young creatives: Cre8tive Class founder Daghe, photographer Lauren Crew, MC and visual artist Queens D. Light, Oakland Surf Club’s Max Klineman, and Flavourhood’s Japheth Gonzalez.
A few years back, one of our favorite artists laced us with a used Yashica. Since then, we’ve been collecting memories of people we love and the places we’ve been. A reminder to keep capturing these moments, and a thank you to Maggie for getting us started.
We step inside the world of the Top Dog Guy. Looking back on 23 years of service, we sit down with Top Dog’s longest working employee, taking time to learn about his life, his career, and his legacy as a Berkeley legend. With photography by Scott Rockwell and words by Max Gibson, this piece is one for the ages.
Ayumu Arisaka creates some incredible, trippy collage work as a part of the female design collective Saigo No Shudan. We took a brief tour of her repertoire, and paired it with some psychedelic slap curation from our good friend Yung_SMH. Heavy vibes all around.
Lots of lovely shit to talk about here. Most prominently, bright, radiant colors and graphic sex scenes, illustrated simply and playfully by Italian artist Fulvia Monguzzi. There are also a handful of beautiful black-and-whites, which fall somewhere on the spectrum between stately and scribbly, and which also feature no shortage of crazy positions and genitalia of all shapes and sizes. Far from being simply an erotic artist though, Monguzzi’s body of work is as varied as it is colorful, from eroticism to illustrations that would feel quite at home in children’s books, and from simple drawings to mixed media collage.
Venus, the digital-only gallery currently featuring her work, on the other hand, leans a bit more heavily toward the explicitly sexual and the sexually explicit. Dedicated to showcasing and exploring all things erotic across multiple artistic disciplines, the Italian gallery seeks to present these works in a space free from the often moralistic discussion and preconceived notions that often accompany their subject matter. Aside from that, the forward-thinking digital gallery concept offers art lovers from around the globe the chance to interact with these works, and even to cop a piece if they feel so inclined. Needless to say, Monguzzi’s work is a great place to start, but Venus has already amassed an impressive digital and physical collection, featuring work from luminaries like Richard Kern and Nobuyushi Araki, to name just a few. Check Venus out here, and make sure to explore a bit more of Monguzzi’s diverse collection of work here. And thanks to the good folks at Pas Un Autre for the heads up.
I was first exposed to Suehiro Maruo’s hypnotically grotesque artwork while lurking the magazine section of Tower Records (RIP), when I happened to stumble upon a special Japanese art edition of Juxtapoz. I was already familiar with the level of violence, sexuality and general depravity adult manga artists were capable of, but Maruo encapsulated those various themes in such an elegant “I almost feel bad for thinking this is pretty” kind of way. A self-taught high school dropout, Maruo’s surreal horror worlds are influenced by the poetic nature of traditional Japanese ukiyo-e woodblock paintings, and elements of Western pulp art. His focus on deformities, birth defects, violence and sexuality all work in unison to form pleasantly uncomfortable works that have garnered him an international cult following, despite the fact that few of his works have been published outside of Japan. Who knew that such fucked up shit could be this beautiful?
In a sense, glancing at Coral Amiga’s photographs offers an escape; a window into a distant life with touches of familiarity. Whimsical yet lasting, Coral’s work manages to encompass a level of mystery within each shot. Who are her subjects and where are they now? Do they talk about the same things we talk about? All questions raised, but left deliberately unanswered by Coral’s ever attentive lens. Recently I had the opportunity to ask Coral about her fascination with capturing moments and the ethos behind her passion for photography. Her response, “I never really knew what I wanted to photograph or why. I would just always carry a camera with me, with the hope that something would inspire me. There was no real pressure or motivation beforehand, but then as soon as something caught my eye there would be this real sense of urgency. An overwhelming feeling that would propel me to take a picture.” With a number of captivating series on her personal site, Even Artichokes Have Hearts serves only as our first introduction to Coral’s work. Stay tuned for what she does next.
So whoever’s behind this project is having a hell of a lot of fun with it. Having rolled out a handful of top-notch, dusty ass jams over the last few months, Captain Murphy, the mysterious artist represented only by a cartoon character bearing heavy resemblance to Ricky Rozay, has captured the imagination of just about every indie or hip-hop blog out there. So let’s do a quick review of what we know so far. For one, they’ve got some famous friends, at least one of which might actually be “him”: Tyler, Earl, FlyLo, Just Blaze, Madlib, the list goes on. Secondly, they really dig cartoons. Third, the pitch-fucked vocals, as warped as they are, seem pretty damn consistent with Tyler and Earl’s respective flows. At this point, you can probably piece together your own theory, based on all the evidence.
In any case, unraveling the mystery doesn’t quite seem like the point here. All speculation aside, the Captain Murphy campaign just seems like a cool way to present an artist, or maybe more accurately, an idea, or an aesthetic. As far as I can tell, Murphy actually is a cartoon character, voiced by a few familiar faces with big imaginations. Plus, the music’s actually fucking great. Duality accompanies all those excellent songs in epic fashion, a half hour saga-mixtape-episode (viewable below), complete with grainy cult footage, acid trip animations, classic ’80s movie clips, and all different types of other strangely juxtaposed shit–kung fu, graphic sex, even clips from that trippy ass Simpsons episode where Homer gets stuck in 3-D. Whatever it is you want to call it, this is some of the coolest shit I’ve seen all year.
I know I wasn’t the only one blown away when Danny so graciously put us up on his good friend George. Now, just shy of a year after our interview with the Bristol-based illustrator, he’s busier than ever, putting in work on everything from comics to collaborative zines to plush toys. Back when we first featured his work, George told us about the colorful set of influences that have sparked his creativity, from Tank Girl to 2000 A.D.. It should be no surprise then that George has kept his signature aesthetic in tact, not to mention his penchant for subversive humor and playful, cartoony imagery, creating the kind of vibrant stylistic universe that might feel at home on say, Adult Swim. The collection here is just a snapshot of George’s latest work, borrowed from his Tumblr, from freelance work on zines to full-fledged comic strips and beyond. Expect to see more from him soon.
Barcelona, 1992. In the version of this story we’re all too familiar with, the storyline follows a who’s who of NBA mega-legends, decked out in the good old red, white and blue, absolutely oblerating the competition, and cruising their way to Olympic gold in the process. On the podium just to the right though, stood a team outfitted head to toe in tie-dye, a cartoon skeleton, mid-bashout, emblazoned across their chests. As you might expect, that same team had a back story at least as compelling as that of the team most consider to be the greatest ever assembled.
Appropriately entitled The Other Dream Team, director Markius Marevicius’ new documentary tells in rich, vivid detail, the story of the 1992 Lithuanian team’s unlikely journey in the broader context of Lithuania’s struggle for independence from the Soviet Union. Most centrally, it’s a fascinating example of the potential of sports to act as a symbol, or even a catalyst for political and social change. But even aside from the big picture, tragedy-to-triumph stuff, The Other Dream Team is equally lovable for its attention to small details–to the individual peculiarities and unlikely twists of fate that brought a fledgling nation onto the international stage. Among the strangest of all those details, probably, is the involvement of the Grateful Dead, who, upon hearing about the plight of Lithuania’s talented, but underfunded team, decided to lend a hand.
On the surface, the communist era in Poland proved unkind to the arts. As the international theater and film emerged between the 1960s and ’70s in Poland, accompanying visuals were created in the form of movie posters and promotional material to market the works. Yet while many of these posters served to promote the films to a wider audience, the state-controlled film and theater institutions saw most of those promotional materials as subversive and incendiary. As a result, the government commissioned Polish artists to re-do the works in hopes of creating more “tasteful” advertisements for upcoming plays and films.
Fortunately, the results were actually astounding. Vibrant posters were created by famed Polish artists from the likes of Wiktor Gorka to Waldemar Swierzy. Oftentimes hardly resembling the films they were advertising, the recreated posters embodied a more carefree, abstract nature, which over time helped to establish Polish poster design internationally. Collected by vintage film aficionados Eye Sea Posters, these images provide a window into the past through the work of some of Poland’s most revered artists.
In many ways Adrien Sauvage is an enigma. A keen sense of style, coupled with modernist sensibilities spawned his most celebrated work to date in the form of his 2011 cinematic short, This Is Not A Suit. With time spent as a personal stylist following his stint as an English international basketball player, at 29, it seems as though the Ghanaian born Sauvage continues to evolve with the times. Following up his creative efforts with his most recent piece aptly titled The Student, the film again finds Suavage in the director’s chair, expertly detailing the intricacies of his “Dress Easy” mantra. Simple yet effective, The Student offers another glimpse into the ever evolving mind of Sauvage, while also offering a subtle reminder for us all to step our sartorial game up.
By now, I feel like we’ve all got to be pretty familiar with the work of Ryan McGinley. Now more than a decade removed from his early days documenting the young and the hip on the Lower East Side, McGinley’s built up an illustrious set of achievements and accolades, and more specifically over the last few years, honed in on his own unique vision and stylistic and thematic hallmarks. Youth, nudity, freedom, wildness–McGinley’s work tends to pair almost unnaturally vivid color with a certain level of spontaneity, so even as shots are carefully designed to some degree, they still teem with the kind of energy that’s impossible to stage.
Most of the work McGinley’s shown recently, including these shots from his recent Tokyo show Reach Out, I’m Right Here, revolves around summer months spent road tripping, setting the stage for two distinct collections of images. Both, naturally enough, feature nude models, though the setting and the relationship of those models to nature differ. Some images, which formed the bulk of Animals, find their subjects mingling with a strange selection of creatures, culled from a handful of zoos or wildlife sanctuaries across the country. Others, in typical McGinley fashion, feature naked bodies in motion, turning wide open, natural space into a liberated playground. I know I’m not the only one waiting to see what he does next, but for now, we’ve got these to meditate on.
The Venice canals, the Coliseum, the Vatican–Italy is full of sights that you might pass off as cliche if they weren’t so damn beautiful, and so full of history. They’re the kind of places we’re all familiar with in a sense, but that you have to see for yourself to really know. For photographers, these landmarks offer the opportunity to capture that timeless beauty through their own lens, finding a tone and telling a story that relates their own unique experience. Fortunately, Kevin Sandlow, also known as Kayven found himself in a position to do just that. Choosing to document his time in Italy with a Canon 7D and an Olympus OM-1, Kevin’s classic black and white shots help further relate just how dope Italy really is. With stints in Milan, Florence, Venice and Rome, among others, Kevin was able to capture his surroundings gorgeously, and even learned a few things along the way. We asked Kevin to fill us in on the insight he picked up in his time abroad, for our most recent Q&A.
I remember one day on the blue courts pretty vividly, when my fourth grade dreams of NBA superstardom were effectively squashed. It was a much wiser and more seasoned fifth grader, undoubtedly one with an older sibling, who dropped the bomb on me that the odds were pretty stacked against me in that particular pursuit. The staggering odds against most young athletes making a career out of it are something most of us come to terms with pretty early on in life. But I feel like until more recently, the assumption was that once you’d made it to the pros and raked in a few million, you’d be pretty well set up for the rest of your life, financially speaking.
The reality is, as plenty of sports fans now know, quite the opposite. According to a much-cited report from Sports Illustrated in ’09, 60% of NBA players end up dead broke within five years of retirement. In the NFL, where injuries are plentiful and careers are cut shorter, 80% are down and out by year three. The phenomenon is of course, pretty prime fodder for ESPN’s storied 30 For 30 documentary series, and for tonight’s installment, Broke ESPN asked director Billy Corben (of Cocaine Cowboys fame) to dig a bit deeper into the stories of the athletes who got breaded fast and lost it all. Among the better known interviewees are Andre Rison and Antoine Walker, and without having seen a minute of it, I’d say it’s safe to assume it touches a few things–the hazards of ballin, the pitfalls of bringing too many homies along for the ride, the challenges of money management. I can’t help but wonder what a Top 40 rappers version might look like.