Thousands of individual flowers and plants grown in Meggan Joy’s Seattle garden form the contours of her ethereal figures. The artist (previously) collages perfectly trimmed photographs of each specimen into silhouettes lush with color and texture.
In her most recent body of work titled Fever Dream, Joy draws on fear, loss, and the immense potential for pain. “Wide and Wild,” for example, depicts a woman cradling a Eurasian Eagle Owl near her heart. “She’s a piece for when you find your person (whether that be a lover, friend, kids, whatever), and once you have them, you know that if they disappear in any way, you also will be gone,” the artist shares in a statement.
Others relate to bad decisions yielding positive experiences and how etermal bonds require patience and understanding. Each work, Joy shares, “whisper(s) the components of the stories that tested us and, instead of condemning our faults, reveal that those moments left us the most exciting scars.
Teahupo’o, a village located on Tahiti’s southeastern coast, boasts a shallow and precipitous coral reef system that creates a unique surf break, resulting in some of the largest waves on Earth. These powerful, barreling surges draw in surfers from around the world, including photographer Tim McKenna.
From a young age, McKenna surfed on the west coasts of France and later Australia. He’s deeply fascinated by the power of the ocean and its constant mood changes from serene ripples to towering swells. The photographer began documenting waves as he rode in their heaving movements and eventually settled in Teahupo’o, where he’s lived for more than 20 years.
Fashion is one way the Andean women of Peru’s Valle Sagrado region retain cultural traditions. In Donde Florecen Estas Flores, or Where These Flowers Bloom, Ana Flores returns to her native Cusco to photograph their timeless style and better connect with her own heritage.
Flores spent much of her childhood disconnected from her Indigenous heritage. “Growing up, I was taught to strive for white European superiority, without questioning the vestiges of colonialism,” she shares.
As an adult, Flores renewed ties with her birthplace and traveled to Cusco repeatedly to photograph those living in the region. “I established a connection with a local research centre that works closely with various Indigenous women-led craft collectives,” she said. “It was crucial for me to revisit this area to begin building the foundations for a trusting and long-lasting relationship with the women involved in this project.”
Shot in film, the photographs in Donde Florecen Estas Flores meld Flores’s background in fashion photography with her keen interest in exploring the ways places shape us. She collaborated with Peruvian art director Lia Lazaro and assistants Guillermo Orihuela and Cayetano García Sahurie to create a series not unlike the spreads in fashion magazines. In her photos, women wear garments like handmade pleated skirts known as polleras, slips underneath, and simple sandals called ojotas in both traditional and novel ways, all set against the magnificent natural beauty of the highlands.
“I aim to create positive and powerful images which shift the stereotypical representation of Indigenous women from marginalised and passive, to celebrating them as dynamic and fundamental aspects of culture,” she says.
Flores is currently based in London and plans to travel to Peru to continue the project in the coming months. Find more of her work on Instagram. (via It’s Nice That)
While heavy, hardcover reference books often embody prestige and historical value, the comprehensive volumes also carry an air of intellectual overload. Filled from cover to cover with extensive and complex concepts, the tomes beckon the Paradox of Knowledge, which states that the more we learn, the more we realize how little we actually know.
This vexing liminal space between the known and unknown is a driving force for Barbara Wildenboer’s work. The Cape Town-based artist (previously) sources secondhand books that span a wide range of languages, worldviews, and subjects such as philosophy, art, history, music, biology, archaeology, and more. Fascinated by linguistics and systems of writing, Wildenboer aims to decode the ways that we assign meaning to symbols.
Scalpel and scissors in hand, Wildenboer transforms countless book pages into narrow, capillary-like slivers that splay outward from the spine. Through these symmetrical sculptures, the artist references other naturally mirrored forms like the brain’s left and right hemispheres linked by the corpus callosum, the wingspan of the death’s-head hawkmoth, and the Rorshach inkblot.
Wildenboer connects these formal qualities to the process of deciphering texts. Her biography notes, “she cuts through these dense and claustrophobic discourses, rendering them mute.” Instead, she alters books to the point that they’re no longer legible, transforming the once familiar characters into new glyphs.
The familiar rustling of an aluminum-lined potato chip bag is almost inseparable from the universal experience of eating the salty, crispy treat. But when you pick up Vi Nguyen’s snack packs, the sensation is replaced by the soft rattling and cool touch of glass beads.
Nguyen found beading in a transitional time when experiencing serious health obstacles and career changes. The meditative, rewarding technique became her happy place, and she eventually found herself creating embroidered pieces that allotted for up to 40 hours of meticulous work threading hundreds of seed beads, most of them only about two millimeters in diameter.
The Southern California-based artist’s work is inspired by the nostalgia of previously living in New York City. Creating recognizable renditions of popular bites from around the corner, Nguyen embodies the spirit of bodegas in the bustling city.
In a conversation regarding her current exhibition titled Beaded Bodega, Nguyen shares, “There are so many life events that happen where my bodega has seen it all. From grabbing a drink and lottery ticket to celebrate landing a new job to buying a pint of ice cream and chips to soak in your sorrows to getting your first BEC after being out of town. Food and snacks can evoke such a memory so being able to transform them into beaded artwork is my ode to New York and your local bodega.”
Beaded Bodega is on view at Gotham until September 18. For more munchies, visit the artist’s Instagram and website.
Noriyuki Saitoh’s (previously) fascination with insects and painstaking attention to detail transforms delicate pieces of wood into intricate sculptures. Using a range of bamboo materials, including thin paper, he carefully carves the architecture of dragonfly wings, mantis legs, and beetle antennae. While primarily made from wood, he sometimes adds other tiny materials like stone to accentuate the specimens’ eyes.
Explore an ever-growing ecosystem on Saitoh’s website, where he often documents biological facts about each animal and photographs their dramatic interactions.
Spanning 3,500 years of art, science, culture, and history, Tree: Exploring the Arboreal World surveys the awe-inspiring beauty and romance of trees.
Forthcoming from Phaidon, the volume includes more than 300 illustrations ranging from ancient wall paintings and botanical illustrations to captivating photography and multimedia work by today’s leading artists.
Tree takes an expansive approach to the topic, introducing scientific and historical inquiry alongside artistic expression and documentation of the planet’s wide variety of species. From a meticulous diorama of an overgrown library by Lori Nix and Kathleen Gerber and patinated metalwork by Shota Suzuki to ancient Egyptian tomb paintings and stunning dragon blood trees photographed by Beth Moon, the book celebrates the myriad ways we are interconnected with trees.
As a child, Ashley Suszczynski used to draw copiously in her school notebooks and escape into the chimerical worlds of books. “I loved the imaginative illustrations,” she tells Colossal. “Each story sent me into a new world, and I kind of dissociated from my own… Every page was full of magic and mystery—an immersive adventure into lands of mythical monsters, talking animals, the weird and the wonderful.”
The fascination with legends and supernatural creatures persisted into adulthood, forming the basis of Suszczynski’s love for photography, folklore, and cultures around the world. “Several years ago, I learned about a masquerade in the north of Spain called La Vijanera,” she says. “The characters looked like those I had imagined from the pages of my childhood stories.” Anthropomorphic, fur-covered creatures met tree nymphs and spirits of the woodlands, all enrobed in remarkably elaborate handmade costumes.
Suszczynski delved into further research about European masking rituals and rites, learning about the range of characters, history, and symbolism unique to each tradition. Festivals throughout the continent often centered on common themes, like the cycle of the seasons, life and death, or fertility, while expressing themselves through distinctive costumes. “It seemed as though every tiny village had their own unique ancient rituals that were still thriving in our modern society,” she says.
Language barriers are often the primary obstacle Suszczynski encounters as she travels around the world to meet those who preserve their local customs. In small, rural communities, people often only speak their native language. “There isn’t really any information on the internet about these groups,” she says. “Finding them is always like a treasure hunt. Sometimes I would just drive to a village, go to their town hall with my phone, and Google Translate to the mayor, asking if they had masks there. The townspeople were extremely helpful; they’d often organize the village group with only a day or two notice.”
Some of the characters Suszczynski meets in her ongoing travels include the Bulgarian Kukeri, variations on which may be called Startsi or Chaushi, among others. Elaborate headdresses and costumes made from wool, animal horns, embroidered fabric, bells, and other ornaments invoke the mystical power to usher in new seasons and scare away evil spirits.
Capturing the right image poses the next major challenge, as Suszczynski works hard to make people comfortable despite not speaking the same language, and she has formed close friendships in the process. “After nearly every photoshoot, we would wind up in someone’s living room, sharing food and brandy together, looking through old photos, laughing, and learning,” she says.
Suszczynski emphasizes that her role, akin to the people she photographs, is that of a storyteller. Through a visual medium, she hopes to share knowledge and understanding of age-old customs to further the preservation efforts of their bearers. “I want to show people how lesser-known cultures, relics, rites, and rituals have withstood time and evolved in our ever-changing world,” she says.
This winter, Suszczynski is planning to photograph some festivals in Mexico and Latin America, and she just finished up documenting the festival of Virgin del Carmen in Paucartambo, Peru. “I am so thankful for each and every person I have photographed,” Suszczynski says. “I couldn’t do any of this without their passion and willingness to share their time, energy, and culture.”
Find more on the artist’s website and Instagram. And you might also enjoy Killian Lassablière’s short documentary “Kukeri” or Roberto de la Torre’s portraits of elaborately masked characters in northern Spain’s Entroidos.
As a child, Ashley Suszczynski used to draw copiously in her school notebooks and escape into the chimerical worlds of books. “I loved the imaginative illustrations,” she tells Colossal. “Each story sent me into a new world, and I kind of dissociated from my own… Every page was full of magic and mystery—an immersive adventure into lands of mythical monsters, talking animals, the weird and the wonderful.”
The fascination with legends and supernatural creatures persisted into adulthood, forming the basis of Suszczynski’s love for photography, folklore, and cultures around the world. “Several years ago, I learned about a masquerade in the north of Spain called La Vijanera,” she says. “The characters looked like those I had imagined from the pages of my childhood stories.” Anthropomorphic, fur-covered creatures met tree nymphs and spirits of the woodlands, all enrobed in remarkably elaborate handmade costumes.
Suszczynski delved into further research about European masking rituals and rites, learning about the range of characters, history, and symbolism unique to each tradition. Festivals throughout the continent often centered on common themes, like the cycle of the seasons, life and death, or fertility, while expressing themselves through distinctive costumes. “It seemed as though every tiny village had their own unique ancient rituals that were still thriving in our modern society,” she says.
Language barriers are often the primary obstacle Suszczynski encounters as she travels around the world to meet those who preserve their local customs. In small, rural communities, people often only speak their native language. “There isn’t really any information on the internet about these groups,” she says. “Finding them is always like a treasure hunt. Sometimes I would just drive to a village, go to their town hall with my phone, and Google Translate to the mayor, asking if they had masks there. The townspeople were extremely helpful; they’d often organize the village group with only a day or two notice.”
Some of the characters Suszczynski meets in her ongoing travels include the Bulgarian Kukeri, variations on which may be called Startsi or Chaushi, among others. Elaborate headdresses and costumes made from wool, animal horns, embroidered fabric, bells, and other ornaments invoke the mystical power to usher in new seasons and scare away evil spirits.
Capturing the right image poses the next major challenge, as Suszczynski works hard to make people comfortable despite not speaking the same language, and she has formed close friendships in the process. “After nearly every photoshoot, we would wind up in someone’s living room, sharing food and brandy together, looking through old photos, laughing, and learning,” she says.
Suszczynski emphasizes that her role, akin to the people she photographs, is that of a storyteller. Through a visual medium, she hopes to share knowledge and understanding of age-old customs to further the preservation efforts of their bearers. “I want to show people how lesser-known cultures, relics, rites, and rituals have withstood time and evolved in our ever-changing world,” she says.
This winter, Suszczynski is planning to photograph some festivals in Mexico and Latin America, and she just finished up documenting the festival of Virgin del Carmen in Paucartambo, Peru. “I am so thankful for each and every person I have photographed,” Suszczynski says. “I couldn’t do any of this without their passion and willingness to share their time, energy, and culture.”
Find more on the artist’s website and Instagram. And you might also enjoy Killian Lassablière’s short documentary “Kukeri” or Roberto de la Torre’s portraits of elaborately masked characters in northern Spain’s Entroidos.
While a seaweed known as bladderwrack might not sound like something you’d want to eat, the unique kelp is in fact quite tasty and gets its name from small air pockets in its leaves akin to tiny bladders. For glass artist Andrea Spencer, the tendrils, bulbs, fronds, and combinations of organisms provide the starting point for an ongoing series of elegant sculptures.
Just inland of the rugged North Antrim coastline in Northern Ireland, Spencer and her husband, glassblower Scott Benefield, work in studios set up in outbuildings of a former farm. “My process usually starts with collecting or recalling something seen or found in the natural world,” Spencer says. “This becomes a point of departure, and I proceed by manipulating and transforming the material: creating, assembling, and arranging forms.” Back in her studio, she displays the items she’s collected by suspending or pinning them into layered compositions and capturing them in drawings or glass.
Spencer first became interested in the medium during a two-year program focused on constructed textiles, when her research led her toward stained glass. She became enthralled by the work of John Piper and Patrick Reyntiens, and she traveled around England to document as much of their work as she could find. The artist then enrolled in the Architectural Glass program at the University of Edinburgh before moving to Northern Ireland and devoting time to studio work as much as possible.
The challenge of portraying realistic botanicals is matched by Spencer’s interest in physical fragility. “I am intrigued with how the material behaves when it is pushed to the extreme and how glass will display the evidence of that behaviour,” she says. “Often the pieces I make are exceedingly fragile.” The walls of hollow forms can sometimes be as thin as an eggshell, and suspended pieces hang by glass threads less than a millimeter thick.
“My pieces are more than mere botanical or sea life models, though,” she says. Her sculptures often take the form of flowers or foliage found on land, inspired by interactions with light and conceptually linking nature to humanity. “Leaf veining recalls our own circulatory system; a mermaid’s purse becomes a womb,” she says. “The fragility of the natural object aligns with the delicacy of the glass object, which speaks to the perilous aspects of life in general.”
Spencer is currently focused on teaching, preparing work for forthcoming group shows in London and Belfast and designing a custom glass ornament commissioned by a Royal establishment. Keep an eye on the artist’s website and Instagram for updates, and purchase pieces directly from Benefield Spencer Glass Shop.