Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Phillip Low

     So it's been a while. I realize that. But what better way to get back into the swing of things than in a discussion of something at the core of every piece of art, architecture, clothing, and object that we encounter--the mindset of the constant consumer. Now I'm not talking about the money-spending type of consumption. I'm referring to the great extent of our unsung consumption of media.  With the advent of iphones, Pinterest, and the rabbit hole that is Reddit, we live in an time and space where we are constantly immersed in media-photos, art, video, books. In years past, the power of an artist's work has been defined by the caliber of gallery it resides in, where today, anyone who's made anything (and I mean anything) can find a venue and an audience on the web. Where I am I going with this, you may ask. Here's where--as people begin to constantly consume media of all sorts, subtle motifs that may have been novel in the past quickly become trite and over-worked. Watch a thousand hours of television on netflix and patterns in the chaos begin to emerge, diluting the gravitas of many films to that of a good kitten video on Youtube. While this evens the playing field for some (kitten videographers, for instance), it also forces artists of all genres to step up their game. When an audience has seen almost everything, and has the rest of it at their fingertips, an artist today must completely outshine the enormity of the human consciousness in order to maintain relevancy--not an easy feat, but it gets done often enough. What's even more amazing is when it is done with a subtle delicacy--when a simple idea can capture the short attention span of the digital world and cause a pause, a comma, a breath in the race across the Internet. Today, this artist is Phillip Low.
     Originally an sculptor that worked in acrylics, I stumbled onto his work through a design blog who suggested buying his prints to make some kind of decor statement (gross). But, after staring at the facets of his disembodied gems floating in some unseen purgatory, I couldn't help but enjoy them. The colors are soft and subtle, the lighting is impeccable, and I am not pushed to remember something that had come before them. They are lovely in their simplicity, and should be enjoyed for it, even if for only a digital moment.

To purchase a limited edition print of these gems ($45-$65), check them out here: