When I think of a city (real or imagined), a few things come to mind. Structure: Sky-scraping buildings, clean lines of light and shadow.
And chaos: overflowing trash, obnoxiously screaming children (everywhere), lack of personal space. But, if you can manage to look beyond this, beyond the swarms of people and through the tall rows of steel, you might find serenity. We’re all really just in our own heads.
It’s this kind of contradictory energy that gives a city its pulse. That kind of unsteady algorithm that young artists around the world are using as inspiration not only for their work, but within their lifestyle.
Because let’s face it, being an artist today takes a certain embrace of duality.
Berlin based Viktor Timofeev, who’s spent the past year and half working toward his second solo exhibition at Hannah Barry Gallery, created an alternate reality of urban utopia that thoroughly engages this concept.
If you look closely, you’ll see precisely and minimally drawn wooden rods, tied together by hair like rope. The wooden fences lead to monumental, geometric structures that would have probably felt like home to Neo and Trinity.
It’s an ancient land interrupted by science. A place that he describes “confuses history with futurity, the intimate with the cosmic.”
The city is void of humans, it’s sky a stark white, and it’s relics are floating spheres resembling nuclei. The drawings are passionately executed, in some areas show remarkable control of line, and others, a distraught sense of disturbance through tiny, rebellious marks.
Welcome to Timofeev’s [MONSTROcity].
We can all just be jealous we can’t walk through it ourselves.