Dr. Sergio Cittolin has worked at CERN for the past 30 years as a research physicist. He has also made several drawings of the Large Hadron Collider in the style of Leonardo da Vinci.
Symmetry magazine profiled Cittolin a few years ago.
As a naturalist, da Vinci probed,…
Another framed etching sold! You should come to Art Melbourne and buy the last one. Then all the unframed ones as well.
Loud studio cleared, sorted, tidied and ready for action. Finally. (I can start sewing again! Hooray!)
Etchings framed and ready for the Melbourne Art Fair!
(via Spiderwebs Transformed into Colorful Works of Art - My Modern Metropolis)
Artist: Anthony Michael Simon
3 etchings chosen for the RMIT stand at Melbourne Art Fair. Centaurus, Orion & Cygnus. Now to the framer!
Gotta say, I’m pretty damned happy with how 2011 worked out.
I finished my degree. I am your Master of Fine Art. With Distinction. And a prize. Pieces of paper, marks and so on aside, I have to say I’m pretty fucking proud of all the artwork I’ve created over the past year. And there was a lot of it. 25 etching plates (not counting the initial tests and experiments), 72 screenprints, 27 digital prints, 3 extraordinarily time-and-sanity consuming artist’s books. And I love all of it.
Occasionally the Imposter Syndrome grumbles about me enjoying my own work so much, so during 2011 I worked hard to get better at kicking that stupid syndrome in the face.
I had to give a (15 minute? 20 minute?) talk about my artwork at the start of the year to 50 or so of my peers. It’s up there as the most terrifying thing I did all year. I remember the night before, while doing a timed run-through, thinking all my artwork was terrible and boring and predictable and ohmygod what was I even thinking doing this degree. My talk was scheduled in the afternoon, so I had that whole night and the next morning to develop my terrified nausea. There was something wrong with the projector that was stripping out the red channel, meaning all my work that was printed in straight red ink was going to look grey and washed out. I had to somehow talk into a microphone, press buttons and turn pages while attempting to hide my (exaggerated from fear) essential tremor. And you know what? Even before we stopped to try replacing the projector cable in an attempt to fix the colour (which worked, btw), it went well. I had to read my name of the piece of paper in front of me, and I read a quote, but after that I didn’t refer to my notes AT ALL. For a couple of minutes I thought that people were horribly bored, and then I flipped the slide to a particular work and heard a slight gasp of delight from someone, and I looked up and saw the fascinated looks on the faces of those in the audience. I held the microphone close to my chest throughout, with both hands. I have no recollection of what I actually said, but came away with the feeling that I’d done well and my work was good. There were no questions at the time, but plenty of praise and new people approaching me later at the pub.
Outside of uni, I worked four days a week all year at my job. Some schoolwork was done on weekends, but most of it was completed in the 1.5 hours I’d spend in the studio each morning before going to work. I’d get up at 6(ish), be in at uni somewhere between 8 and 8:30, then work solidly on tasks I’d set myself until 9:45. In the second half of the year, I started going for a short run followed by 100 pushups each morning, before heading to school then work. It took me a little while to notice, but since getting The Implanon in late 2010, I’d managed to gradually put on a whole stack of weight. I knew I couldn’t fit a gym or swimming or anything that involved any kind of effort into losing weight, so I adjusted my eating habits a little (I ate all the same food, just less of it and in a more thought out order) and ran for 10 minutes each morning while looking up at the stars. I lost 13kg watching Jupiter and Mars and Venus, and seeing the scorpion disappear from the morning sky to be replaced by the big dog at Orion’s heel.
I’ve done other things this year too. I’ve eaten food I’ve grown myself, made cider using apples picked from the trees in my yard (apparently it’s even drinkable now!), cooked delicious meals, made cheese, read books and watched some excellent television. I rebooted my website. I took part in nine exhibitions, including fundraisers and juried prizes. I was asked to be president of our MFA fundraising committee, and was thus responsible for raising over $7000 to put toward our end of year exhibition and catalogue. I knitted some things and finally finished making that wedding video for my brother from when he got married in 2010.
None of it was easy. But it was all worthwhile.
2012? Mostly the same, but without the safety net of study.
Image: Monoceros Monologue (by crumpart)
the things that matter and the things that antimatter
Another one from the assessment. Klein bottle “filled” with “stars” holepunched from a copy of The Odyssey. Crazy shadows achieved by placing a translucent piece of plastic on a mirror (thanks to @TheEndeavour for that!) combined with some crazy spotlighting (thanks to @squozen). The shadow moves as you walk around the piece.
(by crumpart)
A Wonderful Lamp (the shift of light in an unbound universe), the work I made from The Satanic Verses by Salman Rushdie. Printed using stone lithography over both sides of each page. And absolute bitch to install, and I had to make some fairly hefty compromises, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Also very, very difficult to photograph well.
More photos from assessment. My Fahrenheit 451 work.
Fahrenheit 17999540: the temperature at which a star ignites through
thermonuclear fusion of hydrogen into helium (by crumpart)
Fin.
Assessornating begins in 10 minutes, and I’m on my way to work where I’ll collapse at my desk.
Hi Neil, I’ve been a fan of your work for awhile now and I just came across your site. I’ve had this nagging question, about authors, stuck in my brain for awhile now and I thought you might have an answer or opinion. If you really enjoy an author’s stories and then you find out the author (not you) is a jerk or believes in some fairly wretched things would you keep reading this author’s works? I suppose it’s similar to the whole crazy celebrity dilema. Do I really want to go see a movie that looks good even though that guy is in it? Thanks, Kyle
If I were only allowed to read or enjoy art or listen to music made by people whose opinions and beliefs were the same as mine, I think the world would be a pretty dismal sort of a place. I love the work of many creators who self-avowedly believe or believed things that I consider to be “fairly wretched”, not to mention wrong-headed, lunatic, irresponsible or simply wrong. Worse yet: there are artists, actors, songwriters, authors, whose work I love, like or admire and who, biographers or historians tell us, actually did things that were utterly reprehensible. And worse even than that, there are all those things by Anonymous, who could have been or thought or done, well, anything, and we’ll never know…
Ezra Pound was a fascist, an antisemite on a level that makes the Aryan Nation seem wishy washy, a traitor (or at best, a collaborator), and I’m very glad I got to read his poetry, and appreciate it and learn from it. I could list dozens more without breaking a sweat. Most, probably all, human beings get to do awful things and believe things that other human beings think they should be burned for believing, and they get to do and believe wonderful things too, and artists, writers, musicians, creators, actors, are nothing if not human beings.
The art isn’t the artist, the poem isn’t the poet; trust the tale, not the teller.
(The sad flip-side is I’ve met people — writers and artists — over the years who I liked immediately, with whom I found myself agreeing on everything to do with art and aesthetics so closely that we might have shared the same head, people whose world-views were pretty much mine, whom I’d talk with far into the night and whom I parted from excited that I’d met them, looking forward to nothing more than reading their writing or looking at their art… and then I would find what they had done, and, at least as far as my taste was concerned, the books would be uninteresting, the drawings ugly or clumsy. And in an odd way, that hurts more than liking the work of someone who behaved badly, or thought in a way that I consider offensive or wrong.)
(Source: journal.neilgaiman.com)
There are several @neilhimself moments in the celestial atlas I’m making. This is Lupus.
Hercules. Courage. Atticus.
I'm a printmaker. I've recently been awarded my Master of Fine Art in Printmaking.
I used to keep a big folder containing all my research. This is the electronic version. "Once Upon a Spacetime" sounded far less filthy than "Crumpet's Big Box".
For less MFA and more TPB, Anybody want a peanut?.
