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Wired Art Tue, 30 Jun 2009 04:00:00 GMT Force of Nature: Artist Puts Petal to the Metal for Electrifying Images Forget the notion of a reverent nature photographer tiptoeing through the woods, camera slung over one shoulder, patiently looking for perfect light. Robert Buelteman works indoors in total darkness, forsaking cameras, lenses, and computers for jumper cables, fiber optics, and 80,000 volts of electricity. This bizarre union of Dr. Frankenstein and Georgia O'Keeffe spawns photos that seem to portray the life force of his subjects as the very process destroys them. << previous image | next image >> Golden Columbine Photo: Robert Buelteman Buelteman's technique is an elaborate extension of Kirlian photography (a high-voltage photogram process popular in the late 1930s) and is considered so dangerous and laborious that no one else will attempt it—even if they could get through all the steps. Buelteman begins by painstakingly whittling down flowers, leaves, sprigs, and twigs with a scalpel until they're translucent. He then lays each specimen on color transparency film and, for a more detailed effect, covers it with a diffusion screen. This assemblage is placed on his "easel"—a piece of sheet metal sandwiched between Plexiglas, floating in liquid silicone. Buelteman hits everything with an electric pulse and the electrons do a dance as they leap from the sheet metal, through the silicone and the plant (and hopefully not through him), while heading back out the jumper cables. In that moment, the gas surrounding the subject is ionized, leaving behind ethereal coronas. He then hand-paints the result with white light shining through an optical fiber the width of a human hair, a process so tricky each image can take up to 150 attempts. Because there's no lens to distort the colors, Buelteman's work replicates natural hues far better than traditional photographs. "I'm calling into question what we see every day," Buelteman says. "Is that really a flower? Have I been blind my entire life?" You can see for yourself in his recently published book, Signs of Life. << previous image | next image >> Alstroemeria, sp. Photo: Robert Buelteman << previous image | next image >> Cannabis sativa Photo: Robert Buelteman << previous image | next image >> Cortaderia selloana Photo: Robert Buelteman << previous image | next image >> Eucalyptus polyanthemos Photo: Robert Buelteman << previous image | next image >> Galisteo Roses Photo: Robert Buelteman << previous image | next image >> Helianthus annuus Photo: Robert Buelteman << previous image | next image >> White Clematis Photo: Robert Buelteman Tue, 30 Jun 2009 04:00:00 GMT Video: How to Photograph Strangers on the Street Photographer Clay Enos goes from shooting superheroes on the set of Watchmen to taking street portraits. He shows us how to do a street-studio photo session with a sheet of white paper, some tape and a camera. Also required: Good people skills. Fri, 26 Jun 2009 16:00:00 GMT The Cheap Russian Camera That Could: Lomo Turns 25 The Soviet-era camera finds new life among photo enthusiasts because it renders reality in a way that the modern digital stuff simply can't match. Thu, 18 Jun 2009 04:00:00 GMT Hey Look, MIT Students! A Leftover FEMA Trailer! What would MIT students do with a surplus FEMA trailer? Why, turn it into a ‘green’ mobile composting center with vertical gardens, rainwater catchment system, permaculture library, and indoor multipurpose space, of course. Wed, 10 Jun 2009 12:31:00 GMT Sculptor Gives New Meaning to 'Plastic Arts' : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com Lots of sculptors these days use blowtorches and create their works in hard steel. Jerry Ross Barrish uses a glue gun and makes his art from discarded plastic. And the art is something to behold. Not that Barrish has always considered himself an artist. When he showed Wired.com around his studio recently, he admitted it's been a long path. Barrish never did art as a child, never even worked with tools. He explains, "I started to do more-traditional sculpture at SFAI [San Francisco Art Institute] and changed my major to filmmaking. For 15 years I made films; in 1986 I got a grant to live in Berlin. Made my last film in 1989, and that was the same year I made my first sculpture out of plastic that I found in front of my house." He saw garbage on the beach in Pacifica, California, and thought he would make a Christmas tree out of the plastic. So he started to accumulate materials for the Christmas tree. "I started to see things in the materials, making small collages from different materials and adding them to the tree." : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com Barrish describes his work as building a whole dinosaur from the evidence of a single vertebra. Bits and pieces of material trigger an artistic vision of what the final piece will be. Blue Parrot Cafe (left) is life-size and, in Barrish's inimitable way, lifelike. : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com Barrish says his work is a constant learning curve. "I hadn't seen anyone do this before. I was still learning about glues, what materials hold up, what plastics are better than others. It's been a 25-year learning process." : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com "I use a 3M industrial hot-glue gun, and on the larger pieces to reinforce the glue I will use screws. I melt the plastic using a tool they use to remove wallpaper." Barrish has only made minor changes to the way he creates his work. When he started working, he recalls that he "wouldn't cut, bend or tape. Now I do all those things. Eliminated all those self-imposed restrictions." : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com "Deciding if it has a face is a big decision to make. You can't make a Mona Lisa with out a face. If I make Rodin's, The Thinker, it doesn't need a face. "If I put a face on Marlene Dietrich, it becomes a portrait; if I take the face off, it becomes the essence of Marlene Dietrich. I always prefer the essence." : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com "In the art world, I'm a total failure because everyone likes the work. 'If they like it, it can't be any good.' It's always been well received." Barrish's work has appeared in 20 solo and 32 group shows and is housed in the permanent collections of more than a dozen art museums around the country. : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com "I'm inspired by the work; I love my work. It's magical to me. I'll sit in my studio, start going through the materials and have an idea. The first 10 years of working with these materials, the work was inspired by what I found. After 10 years, I started to set aside materials for preconceived ideas." Barrish picks up all this stuff from the beach outside his house and from anywhere else that plastic junk is strewn and accumulates in the modern industrial economy. : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com Barrish named this life-size sculpture Red and Yellow Quartet. "I study musicians and their instruments, and try and capture their movement and body language." : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com "It doesn't take me very long to make a piece when I have all the elements. It comes together very quickly. But they are some pieces that take longer. It took me 10 years to figure out the concept and how to make The Last Supper. Once I figured it out, it took three days to put it together." The figures are about 10 inches high. : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com On using different materials, Barrish says, "Friends of mine try and give me advice. But I do what I do. No one loves this work more than me, and I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing. I don't see myself changing too much." : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com Don Quixote (center) evolved over time. "First I made the horse, then added the rider two years later, then added a hat 10 years later, and it became Don Quixote." The completed figure is about 18 inches high. : Photo: Jon Snyder/Wired.com "I have an original voice. You don't have to like my work, but you don't mistake my work for another's. The great artists have a signatory voice. Even after 25 years I still don't see people using the materials I use." Mon, 01 Jun 2009 04:00:00 GMT