Dream big. Dutch ‘horizontal living’ design firm Snurk unveiled their latest duvet cover featuring an exact replica of a European Space Agency (ESA) spacesuit, right down to the last buckle mirrors of the European spacewalkers. Now when you’re tucked up in bed, you’ll be counting exoplanets rather than sheep. As much as I love the concept and the beautiful product photographs that accompany it, I do really wish they included a young girl and/or someone with a little diversity. Astronauts/Cosmonauts is an exclusively bro club–but we all can dream.
Nicholas Forker is in good company.
Forker employs the astronaut archetype, the 21st Century Lone Ranger, to create forms that can’t be made without the human touch. His work plays with duality: light/dark, man/machine, etc. These images from his Shadows series are an “attempt to take the drawing medium through an evolution of its own.” Forker uses lasers on glass to create an images that are close to invisible. Lights a powerful medium, giving the figures free floating life.
You may remember Nicholas from when Alex wrote about his mural that he created back in 2011. Vice’s Spaced Out did a wonderful piece on him this summer traversing through New York City in a Mercury-looking silver suit, too.
I wanted to dip into the archives this week; Fast Company published a wonderful series on the Apollo missions that reminded me of the wealth of beautiful images from NASA Archives. If you haven’t already taken a mini adventure through NASA Images powered by the SF based Internet Archive – it is definitely on the top ten list of sites to visit for a space suit enthusiast. Some of my favorite rarely seen photographs that are found deep within this vault of many treasures are survival training photographs- my favorite of which are stills from Mercury Group 3 Training.
These Mercury boys had yet to go the moon; Mercury / Apollo Test Pilot Alan Shepard didn’t become the first American in space until 1961 ( as a point of reference – JFK made his famous “We Choose to Go to the Moon” speech in 1962). American manned exploration accomplishments during the Mercury program era were limited, but the possibilities were endless. I think that is why these survival training photographs are so charming. Throw a bunch of lifetime military men in the desert – that’ll get ‘em ready for the final frontier. Not going to lie, their headdresses made out of parachutes make them look more like Devendra Banhart than 1960′s American rocketman.
Polish photographer Wiktor Franko’s work-in-progress series, inspired by Ridley Scott films, captures cosmic queens in common spaces. Franko casts a narrative through his leading space ladies – the first space adventurer with freckles and chest bare has a gaze stripped of emotion. In contrast, the pensive subject depicted in full color below has steamed up her shield and is matched with a intent gaze. These girls have places to be.
The space race was the greatest competition all time: two great nations pushing technological and scientific boundaries for galactic supremacy. Rooted in the necessity to achieve what no nation had yet to accomplish, science and mankind reached new heights. Tom Clohosy Cole’s concertina, Space Race, beautifully illustrates this push to the limits. The efforts of these two great Cold War super powers are detailed on opposing sides of a paper-made Iron Curtain narrating the notable achievements of spaceflight. The highlights of the USSR include Sputnik’s star streak across the autumn sky and Yuri Gagarin’s landmark orbital waltz around the home planet. On the opposing side, the achievements of the United States showcase the Apollo rocket boys. Cole’s concertina crescendos at quite probably the greatest single achievement in the space race – the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project. This event technically marks the end of the Space race between the two nations as the Soviet Soyuz and the Yankee Apollo crafts dock together–a cosmic handshake and sign of peace. From my own ethnocentric point of view, the space race narrative (as told here in the United States) ends with Armstrong & his boys’ dance on the moon. Yet in actuality the Test Project, commonly referred to statewide as Apollo 18, is truly the last dance of the great space race. Cole’s depiction in four colors boldly celebrates these adventuresome achievements. And unfurled, it paints a panorama of this time far grander than any Hasselblad shot brought back as a souvenir.