Sunday, April 17, 2011
Where do I begin? This is one serious piece, this Thype. It's designed by a science fiction and fantasy painter who's work I've been tremendously influenced by, Wayne Barlowe, and sculpted by two brothers who've managed to accumulate a rabid following by way of their unique approach to sculpting, as well as their unique personalities, Brandon and Jarrod Shiflett; more commonly known as, " The Shiflett Brothers". Three talented juggernauts collide.
The sculpture is just fucking amazing, there's really not much else I can say. Clean and perfect fitting castings handled by Steve West of Cellar Cast. The sense of movement is wonderful, and Thype is carefully negotiating his way across the uneven rocks. I'm still reeling that there's a resin kit based off a Wayne Barlowe creature design sculpted by these Fellas, who've managed to create a sculpting style that's as individual as the great Frank Frazetta's approach was to painting. The Shiflett's have done work for Glenn Danzig, and to me, that means that their shit don't stink!
This is a stripped down, no frills, bad-assed piece of Art. I've spent many, many evenings studying the alien worlds and hellish landscapes realized by Wayne Barlowe; spent years admiring the unique skills of Jarrod and Brandon Shiflett. This was truly a righteous painting experience.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
This lady is finished...
...and it truly feels like an immense weight lifted from me for some odd reason.
I've been drawn to this piece since the first moment Norman Meyers sent me a shadowy, amber tinted image of the Paul Komoda sculpture in progress. Just look at her face; a human being subjected to an abominable condition. I wonder who she was? Her name, where she lived, what she did for a living. And most of all, if she was alive or dead in the infamous image of her that was published in a Penthouse magazine in the 1970's.
I honestly don't know of any other artist who could study a visage such as this and avoid an all-out cruel, disgusting orgy of a sculpture. There's still a semblance of grace swimming around among her drooping and cratered features; her inky black eyes, completely void of emotion. That wonderfully ornate, ossified, art nouveau base is a treat indeed. Paul Komoda is, without question, " The Man".
My hat goes off to Artist Proof Studio for having the Balls to produce this piece.