Could we call this a “cattle call?” Are they equipped with ramswering machines? Do they belong to the Farmer in the Dial?
That’s all I got.
(from pics.kuvaton.com via Ffffound.com)
Artist Kyle Bean has created this marushka doll art piece. It confirms something that I’d always suspected: the iPhone really did used to live inside of Zach Morris’s phone.
Art by Steven and Billy Blaise Dufala From a show earlier this year at Fleisher/Ollman. The brothers were exploring “concepts of consumption, use-value, sentimentality, exaggeration, efficiency, and waste are explored through a dark and humorous lens.”
(via Philebrity)
This morning I was interviewed for the Hey Brooklyn podcast. Rob, the sound engineer, mentioned the PROGRAMMED exhibit to me—it’s a show that The Mac Support Store and the Brooklyn Artists Gym are going to putting on. Looks like anyone can submit possible entries— you just have to pick up pieces of obsolete technology from them and then turn it into ahhhhht. This is a picture of some of the offerings. If anyone goes ahead and enters, please send a photo of your masterpiece over this-a-way!
At a new show at the JP Art Market in Boston, young artists show work that examines their reactions to the fast rate at which the ephemera of their childhood have become obsolete.

I’ve been visiting the Museum of Forgotten Art Supplies for a few months now—it’s grown nicely as people have sent in photos of dusty art artifacts that were indispensable in the days before PhotoShop. That’s not to say that many of these items are no longer in use: I don’t know how they’re doing things nowadays, but when I left the New York Observer in 2004, they were still leaning pretty heavily on photostats and wax adhesives and other production room practices that had gone out of style in the early nineties. (They also paid people a minimum wage that had gone out of style then, too…)
Both my parents are artists, and so I find these objects extremely comforting. Half my childhood was spent sculpting kneaded erasers and making fake-buggers out of dried rubber cement. Nothing says “home” to me like the smell of Spray Mount.
I don’t speak German—a fact that may come as a surprise to anyone who knows that I have 400 copies of my last book translated into Deutsch. Nevertheless, from what I can make out, the Roboter portraetiert is a robot that can draw portraits. Thanks, Technology! Finally, all those poor souls who’ve spent years hunched over sketchbooks can go get one of those desk jobs they’ve always dreamed about.