In Daniel Shipp's series Botanical Inquiry, the Sydney-based photographer explores how plants and flowers found at the edges of urban infrastructure fit into our modern world. Shipp collects seemingly unremarkable plants and photographs the subjects in built dioramas, an environment that allows him to manipulate the relationship between foreground and background with a controlled precision. Through this process he is able to create dramatic photographs in-camera, shooting digitally but using old visual effects techniques developed for early cinema.
By highlighting botanical specimens we have culturally labeled “weeds,” Shipp attempts to shift the viewer’s perspective on flora that they might walk past each day. He recasts these marginal plants as the subject of each of his photographic stories, showcasing their knack for survival even in the face of pollution and harmful human intervention.
“There are some beautiful ‘weeds’ that we might walk past all the time,” Shipp explains to Colossal. “I knew that if I could present these often unnoticed plants in the right context that there was potential for storytelling. Next time you go for a walk make an effort to look for plants in places you wouldn’t normally—shopping center carparks, service stations etc.”
Shipp further explained that one of the most beautiful colors he has photographed for the series was found on the underside of the foliage of a plant common to industrial parks across Sydney. The hidden purple was one of the most incredible metallic shades he had ever seen, and it had been sneakily surrounding him for the majority of his life.
Shipp was recently announced as the winner of Magnum and LensCulture's 2017 Fine Art Photo Award. You can see more of his photographs on his website and Instagram, and take a behind-the-scenes look at his Botanical Inquiry series in the short video below. (via This Isn’t Happiness)
Artist Janaina Mello Landini (previously) continues to produce dizzyingly complex installations and canvas-based sculptural works comprised of unbraided ropes that branch out like tree roots. The fractal-like artworks have developed over a period of six years as part of her “Ciclotrama” series, a word she coined that combines the root word “cycle” and the Latin word “trama” meaning warp, weaving, or cobweb. Via Zipper Galeria:
Janaina Mello Landini aggregates her knowledge of architecture, physics and mathematics and her perception on time to develop pieces that travel through different scales. The labyrinthine architecture has been the central axis of her research in the “Ciclotramas” series, made with ropes that break down into minimal threading, and “Labirintos Rizomáticos”, works in satin that result in the construction of multifocal perspectives, nullifying the traditional construction.
Landini has created numerous pieces for several shows and installations over the past year, most notably for an exhibition at Galleria Macca last June. You can see more of her recent work on Artsy and Zipper Galeria. (via Visual Fodder)
Cell-Building block, 14 x 14 x 14 inch, 2016
Driven by an interest in the biological process of cell division, artist Jiyong Lee (previously) fabricates translucent sculptural works of segmented glass components fused through coldworking techniques. Some pieces purposefully take the form of organic life with titles such as “White-orange Chromosome Segmentation” or “Geometric cell membrane segmentation” while others are decidedly more geometric in nature. Born and raised in South Korea, Lee has helmed the glass program at Southern Illinois University since 2005. He most recently had a solo exhibition with Clara Scremini Gallery in Paris, and you can see many more of his pieces on Artsy.
White-orange Chromosome Segmentation, 7 x 12 x 16 inch, 2017
Orange Cylinder Segmentation, 5.7 x 11.5 inch, 2017
Geometric cell membrane segmentation, 17 x 14 x 14 inch, 2016
Black & White segmented Cylinder, 5.5 x 13.75 inch, 2015
Gold-Ruby Trapezohedron, 9.25 x 15 x 10.5 inch, 2015
Blue-Yellow cuboid segmentation, 10.5 x 9 x 5 inch, 2015
white Drosophila embryo segmentation, 6.5h x 14.5w x 5.75d (inch), 2014
An important element of Ottoman architecture in Turkey was the addition of birdhouses affixed to the outer walls of significant city structures, a safe space for regular avian guests to nest outside of mosques, inns, bridges, libraries, schools, and fountains. The birdhouses were not simple concrete structures, but rather elaborate feats of miniature architecture that ranged from one-story homes to multiple-story bird mansions. Each was designed with a similar design aesthetic to the country’s larger buildings, simultaneously providing shelter to sparrows, swallows, and pigeons while preventing bird droppings from corroding the walls of the surrounding architecture.
In addition to providing shelter, the birdhouses fulfilled a religious vision. They were thought to grant good deeds to those that built the tiny homes. Through their abundance and care, the structures encouraged a love of animals in the Turkish public, citizens who adopted several nicknames for the homes over the years including “kuş köşkü” (bird pavilions), “güvercinlik” (dovecots) and “serçe saray” (sparrow palace).
Only some of these bird mansions remain today, however their place is firmly rooted in Turkish history. Nearly every city in the country contains examples of the bird homes, the oldest example, a 16th-century house attached to the Büyükçekmece Bridge, still surviving in Istanbul. (via Jeroen Apers)
Author, illustrator, photographer, and LEGO aficionado Chris McVeigh (previously) has added new retro technology kits to his cache of minimalist models, sets which include several decade-specific desktop set-ups and a boombox with multiple lego tapes. McVeigh even attempts to make each desk’s contents comply with the decade of its corresponding computer, like the version above which includes floppy disks which can be inserted into the computer, and a stack of computer manuals. You can view more of McVeigh’s lego kits (which also include different foods, bonsai trees, and video games) on his Facebook and Instagram.
Korean artist Lee Ji-hee builds paper models of old film cameras, recreating the details of their every mechanism through expertly folded paper. Although his paper cameras match the original in every aspect of their form, the colors he selects for his designs are much different. Instead of matching the black, brown, and grey color schemes consistent with the 1952 Leica IIIf Red Dial or 1938 Super Kodak Six-20, Lee chooses flashy colors and patterns that give each device an updated aesthetic. You can see more of Lee’s folded paper designs (including paper hamburgers, pizza, and chicken nuggets) on the artist’s Behance and Instagram.