There is definitly something kind of strange about these paintings by the English illustrator and painter Sophie Alda. That said, there’s also something kind of wonderful about them too. Painted in gouche, her images are filled with beautiful pastel shades and are populated with odd and ugly characters. The flat nature of her paintings is really beautiful, but for me it’s her warped view of people that I really like. They’re strange, awkward and creepy – yet in many ways they feel like very honest depictions of people.
If you get the chance and if you’re a fan of the absurd make sure to check out more of her work online here, I’m particullarly fond of her Wobbledogs, GIF PARTY!
Daniel Frost is a British illustrator I stumbled across recently, his vibrant working catching my eye immediately. There’s a simplicity to his work, the shape of his characters are whimsical and his color palette is bright and primary. It’s really a treat to look at his work, it’s all so dynamic feeling.
I was particularly drawn to these postcards he did along with YCN called Trademarks. The idea is that types of people have a trademark quality to them, like a sailors sea legs or a bicyclists muscly thighs. It’s a funny concept and some of the images he’s created are hysterical. I also like these because of their colored backgrounds, as he usually uses only white in his backgrounds. I think it makes a huge difference in his work an I hope he starts putting more color in.
Even though I don’t want to be be buried, or die anytime soon, I’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time sketching what I’d want my grave to look like. I don’t want to be buried though, so it’s more likely that I’ll be found toe-up in a vat of formaldehyde, medical students picking me apart until there’s nothing left. What’s most likely is that I’ll be cremated after I die, no frills or education involved. It has never occurred to me think about where I’d want to be cremated until after seeing images of this Crematorium in Lithuania designed by Architektu Biuras G.Natkevicius ir Partneriai.
There’s a distinct attitude about this crematorium: it’s very visible. The windows are expressive and almost look like confetti strewn across concrete walls. It’s easy to want to hide crematoriums because they can be morbid places that we’d rather not think about, but these places can also mean more. Maybe shopping for a crematorium isn’t so far fetched, but by the time I end up in one I really won’t care. It won’t be about me, but my friends and family, and what they want to do. So if it’s two hundred years from now, and you’re a relative of mine and wondering what to do with my body: figure out if they’ve built something like this in Hawaii and go there.
This particular crematorium is the only crematorium in Lithuania. It was realized in spite of opposition by deep-seated religious traditionalists, so it may not be too surprising that it’s in a strange part of town, surrounded by factories and industrial plants instead of green space with actual plants. The project is introverted, in part, to shield visitors from the context, but also to minimize distractions for visitors. One curious detail about this project, and it’s context, is that even though it is surrounded by sugar mills and fertilizer factors with tall chimney stacks, the architects intentionally kept the chimney of the crematorium as small and out of sight as possible; they didn’t want the sight of the chimney to cause bad feelings.
We’ve reached, in my opinion, the pinnacle of Modest Mouse, the last great album they ever released. I’m talking about Building Nothing Out Of Something, a collection of songs that were released between 1996 and 1998. The album was released in the beginning of 2000, 12 years ago, it seems like a life time ago. Listening to this album I think of how I had no idea that this wasn’t a cohesive thought, that I never paid attention to the fact that it was a menagerie of tunes.
This collection to me is the embodiment of what Modest Mouse sounds like. It encapsulates the uneasiness of Brock’s lyrics, the fascination with travel, math, the moon, ice. It also has some of the most sensitive lyrics he’s ever written. Songs like Broke and Baby Blue Sedan are what Modest Mouse sounds like, though I’m not sure others hear them that way. There was something about their sound back then that was honest. They sounded like a bunch of guys trying to make an album with the best tools they had. Brock’s voice is slightly out of tune, as are the guitars. The flaws and character were a part of the charm.
If you’ve never been a fan of Modest Mouse, I implore you to listen to this album. It defies all the expectations you may have, and could maybe show you a side to their music you didn’t know they had.
As for the wallpaper, super illustrator Deke Smith has created this awesome piece that sums up the album so well. The album is made up of pieces and parts and so is his wallpaper, but each work as a cohesive thought. He’s created some pretty rad symbols, and I love the color palette he chose as well. A huge thanks to Deke and be sure to check back next week as we hit up The Moon and Antarctica.
What I love about the pattern, the version at top being the one they used, is how it feels both older and contemporary at the same time. The age comes through in the mild distressing of the images, while the contemporary feeling comes through in the colors. Seeing this shirt on the rack, and of course on a person, is a thing of beauty, and it’s exciting that the folks at Steven Alan can see just how talented Harriet is. You can see more by clicking here.