What happens when you mix the bad mood and aggressiveness of punk, the loudest disco/funk euphoria and a guy dressed in lycra shorts on a stage? What happens is that you actually got a master gig of the band with the most difficult name on the music landscape. !!! (or Chk Chk Chk, according to them) land in Spain today to present “As If”, their party album, playing in Barcelona and Madrid first and finishing their tour at the BIME festival at the end of the month. Over the top Nic Offer’s band have been rewarding us with parties since 2001; their gigs have always been a synonym of crazy, ecstasy and dislocated knees. We only have to think about the show they offered at the Primavera Sound dressed up as zumba teachers. We hope they bring a sanitary help team with them, because taking into account the mega hit their new “Freedom ’15” is, people are in risk of a heart attack.
It’s annoying when people can make something outstanding from everyday objects; that girl that just using felt, surimi, erasers or whatever she finds on her way makes a live scale Sixtine Chapel reproduction or that dude that invents a new type of fuel out of human sweat (if you do exist, indeed, you are annoying).
Matthias Heiderich is a little bit annoying, what can we say. There were you pass with your head down low, thinking in your, well, thoughts, he can actually look around and build amazing images and compositions capturing architecture, colour, materials and, incredibly, static movement. And he makes you feel a bit like a procrastinator, like someone who loses her time instead of making Art. Matthias says no to studios, his place is the streets, as many gangsters would say.
The World Health Organization thinks that Monday hangovers are not bad enough, so following a sadic strategy they’ve decided to let this bomb news out early in the morning. That’s how today the whole world nearly choked on their breakfast reading that all processed meat, and specially red meat, is as carcinogen as plutonium, tobacco or Furbys.
With tears in our eyes we say goodbye to bacon, sausage, hamburger, meatball, chorizo and ham full breakfasts. Butcher’s, sausage rolls and half of Spanish restaurants will shut down letting the world become a grayer and cholesterol free place.
In the near future, when the vegan lobby rules the Earth, we will bring back Brian Finke‘s National Geographic commissioned photography series. Here he shows the wonders of the meat industry; from the death of a young calf to children in morbid obesity risk. Fat and guts fuelled pictures that we will look at with a melancholic sigh while we have a sad celery sandwich for breakfast.
In La Monda Magazine we get hypnotized by slot machines, peepshow bars and fair rides; doctors have already said that if we follow on this path we’d end up in a seizure, but we don’t care.
Taking into account this attraction to all flashy, how could we not take a moment at Tracey Emin‘s work? Firework artist of all, the enfant terrible of contemporary Art has make it possible, along with Dan Flavin and Bruce Naumann, for neon lights to be found inside the pure and boring museum architecture. Her series of intimate and cheesy neon sentences drew our attention towards this artist that nearly won the Turner Price with her piece “The Bed”, in which she would show her own unmade bed surrounded by condoms, used towels and all sorts of rubbish. Emin got to the spotlight in a BBC interview, where she appeared high on Diazepam and in a “I don’t want to go back home to my mum’s” loop. That’s making a statement, and the rest is just nonsense. Tracey, girl, you rock!
In the beginning of the 90s, the Internet big bang moved the basis of western society. Since then, the digital world has opened a wide range of possibilities; from watching Mexican teenager videos to stay in the loop of what’s happening with Marnie, the dog with fatial paralysis. The market, as it would, also jumped in the 2.0 bandwagon. From our very laptop we can buy all sorts of products: used underwear, popper or Kalashnikovs. There’s no limits on the online world!
The artistic landscape saw its benefits on this media and that’s how, in the mid-90s, net.art was born; a discipline that wraps all those artistic productions made entirely at and for the net. But, what happened with poetry? Would’ve Lorca, Ginsberg or Brönte grasp the beauty of code? Luckily, a master of lyrics has been born to capture all the sensitivity of the digital world in his songs. From a little shop in Mexico, this songwriter presents verses fuelled with know-how such as: “you know that my toner doesn’t fail and you’d love to see me in a towel” or “baby, if you and me are ones and zeros, what are we waiting for to get naked” (promise, this sounds as bad in Spanish). What started as a marketing strategy to sell more computers has ended up becoming part of the Southern-American literature history. This is Chip Torres, a contemporary poet that gives us verses and bytes alike.
Even though all this I mention is utter trash, there’s profiles of people such as Tonyfutura that, as I stated before, I would Tinder superlike; he’s managed to create his own world full of surrealist objects and radioactive colours and leave us in an awe amongst so much beauty at the same time. Tonyfutura is Instagram and Instagram is Tonyfutura; we now have a new favourite artist.
Metz + Racine = lots of style and knowing how to spectacularly compose images. We wish maths were this easy to understand at school and they’ve forgotten about how many watermelons Peter was carrying. Metz + Racine, this still life masters, play with volumes, colours and shapes achieving amazing sets that allow their advertising campaigns to be another sum with a more than elegant result. With their meticulousness, they make our minds wander when watching that hand carrying the Chanel nº5 perfume and our brains to get drunk in excitement just by witnessing that champagne bottle. This is pure class, all the rest is just impossible equations.