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Eriko Kobayashi Casts Extraordinarily Lifelike Foods From Glass in Her Hyperrealistic Sculptures

Eriko Kobayashi Casts Extraordinarily Lifelike Foods From Glass in Her Hyperrealistic Sculptures

All images © Eriko Kobayashi, shared with permission

Eriko Kobayashi’s incredibly lifelike sculptures of fried eggs, bacon, and gummy bears are made from the last thing you’d want to take a bite out of. Formed entirely of glass, the Seattle-based artist’s hyperrealistic works explore our relationship with routine meal times, comfort foods, and the nostalgia of brands like Pop Tarts.

“I believe that we make decisions about our clothing, food, and everyday requirements based on a feeling of intimacy and sympathy with the products,” Kobayashi tells Colossal. Tapping into universally recognizable items, like the ubiquitous breakfast menu of eggs and bacon, the artist draws on her own nostalgia, portraying fare she often has close at hand. She views glass as a medium that can both encapsulate and accumulate experience.

Kobayashi uses a technique called hot casting, in which individual pieces are fused together at high temperatures in a handmade mold. “I always seek new invigoration and try to make pieces that deepen thought, give off a positive feeling, and arouse curiosity,” she says. “The discipline required to convincingly create an object in glass demands that I spend a long, concentrated period of time making that object.”

Working with glass requires a lot of patience in the pursuit of precision. For example, in the process of making solid, cubic gummy bear pieces, Kobayashi underwent much trial and error. “Incorrect fusing temperatures resulted in gummy bears melting too much, mistakes in the mold shape caused temperature variations, and miscalculating the annealing time led to cracks in the glass,” she says. “Through experimentation, I ended up creating my own molds and calculating the temperature to achieve the desired form.”

Kobayashi’s work will be included in the forthcoming 2024 edition of Ripleys Believe It Or Not! and is currently part of Potluck at Hashimoto Contemporary in Los Angeles. And if you’re in Seattle, you can see her work in the Pratt Fine Arts Center window showcase in a presentation titled Chewy Thoughts, opening this month and continuing through June. Find more on the artist’s website and Instagram.

 

Do stories and artists like this matter to you? Become a Colossal Member today and support independent arts publishing for as little as $5 per month. The article Eriko Kobayashi Casts Extraordinarily Lifelike Foods From Glass in Her Hyperrealistic Sculptures appeared first on Colossal.

These Spectacular Wildlife Images Won Big at a Top Photography Contest

These Spectacular Wildlife Images Won Big at a Top Photography Contest

A tender image of a young polar bear drifting off to sleep in a bed he carved out of an iceberg has won over the masses. The photograph, titled Ice Bed, won British amateur photographer Nima Sarikhani the People’s Choice Award for the Wildlife Photographer of the Year, a prize organized by London’s Natural History Museum.

To capture the image, Sarikhani spent three days searching for polar bears through a dense fog around Norway’s far-northern Svalbard archipelago. Finally encountering a young male bear just before midnight, he watched as it climbed the small iceberg, clawed away at the sea ice, then curled up into a serene slumber.

In a statement, Douglas Gurr, the museum’s director, described the image as a poignant reflection on habitat loss: “His thought-provoking image is a stark reminder of the integral bond between an animal and its habitat.”

The photograph was selected from a shortlist of 25 images, whittled down from 50,000 submissions. A record 75,000 voters participated in the 59th installment of the competition. The image, along with four other “highly commended” finalists, will be on view at the London museum through June 30.

Audun Rikardsen, Aurora Jellies. Photo: © Audun Rikardsen / Wildlife Photographer of the Year.

The other finalists include Norwegian photographer Audun Rikardsen, who captured Aurora Jellies, an ethereal image of the aurora borealis illuminating the night sky over the waters of a fjord, aglow with the bioluminescence of moon jellyfish.

Kenyan Photographer Mark Boyd captured two lionesses grooming one of their shared cubs together after an unsuccessful hunt. Lionesses raise each other’s cubs as their own. Shared Parenting evokes the bond of sisterhood as well as the universal love of motherhood.

Mark Boyd, Shared Parenting. Photo: © Mark Boyd, Wildlife Photographer of the Year.

Starling Murmuration by German/Romanian photographer Daniel Dencescu was shot in Rome, Italy. He followed the starlings across the city for days as they danced across the sky, creating enchanting organic shapes. In Israeli photographer Tzahi Finkelstein’s The Happy Turtle, a balkan pond turtle smiles as a northern banded groundling dragonfly pays it a visit in the swampy waters of Israel’s Jezreel Valley.

Tzahi Finkelstein, The Happy Turtle. Photo: © Tzahi Finkelstein / Wildlife Photographer of the Year.

Daniel Dencescu, Starling Murmuration. Photo: © Daniel Dencescu / Wildlife Photographer of the Year.

The prestigious Wildlife Photographer of the Year competition celebrates the nature-focused work of amateur or professional photographers. The 60th edition is currently being judged by an international panel, with its winners set to be announced in October 2024.

Wildlife Photographer of the Year” is on view at the Natural History Museum, Cromwell Road, South Kensington, London, through June 30.

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Winged motorbike and a rapping Korean octogenarian: photos of the day

Winged motorbike and a rapping Korean octogenarian: photos of the day
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Sirens of Sewage, by Jason deCaires Taylor, which portrays a cold-water swimmer, a school child, kite surfer, a lifeboat volunteer and a local fisherman. The beach artwork celebrates local volunteers who are part of a national network driving public discourse and political action to safeguard water bodies and marine ecologies

Photographer Helga Paris, Who Captured Life in East Berlin, Dies at 85

Photographer Helga Paris, Who Captured Life in East Berlin, Dies at 85
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Photographer Helga Paris, who captured daily life in Soviet Union-occupied East Berlin, has died at the age of 85.

According to the DPA international, Paris’ daughter confirmed that the photographer had died on February 8 in her apartment in the German capital.

Paris is one of few East German women who was recognized for her photography at the time of Soviet Union occupation in the country.

Self-taught photographer Paris was born in 1938 in Goleniów, Poland, and grew up in Zossen, Berlin.

Paris grew up with a passion for photography — after being inspired by her two aunts who were enthusiastic photographers. She constantly took pictures from the 1940s through the 1960s.

Paris moved to Berlin’s Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood after marrying her husband Ronald Paris in 1966. She began seriously taking photographs a year later.

Her work focused on people and streetscapes, initially in Berlin where many of her subjects were neighbors and friends.

However, Paris is perhaps most famous for her photo series Women at Work.

In 1984, the German photographer spent several weeks at the state-owned Treff-Modelle clothing factory in Halle, East Berlin capturing over 1,500 photographs of female employees.

Paris’ black-and-white pictures for Women at Work captured the garment workers in the clothing factory and their “unforeseen beauty.”

According to The Brooklyn Rail, Paris often snapped the camera shutter before her sitters even realized — leaving little time for preparation, but brought an authenticity to each image.

Paris also never used flash in her photography, instead using natural light to establish focal points on each face.

‘I have always been drawn to the every day, the unspectacular,” Paris said of the portraits.

“But I didn’t photo­graph it clinically, aseptically; rather, I tried to reproduce it as realistically and as hauntingly as possible.”

Paris also traveled outside of Berlin, shooting in Transylvania and Georgia. Paris said that no matter where she was, she tried to photograph everything “like a foreign city in a foreign country.”

Her career as a freelance photographer survived German reunification in 1989 and Paris’ photographs gained a wider interest as a historical record of the GDR.

Paris was a member of Berlin’s Akademie der Künste arts academy since 1996. She has left her archive of almost 230,000 negatives and around 6,300 films to the art institution.

How a pair of Bay Area bobcats fueled one student’s passion for wildlife photography

How a pair of Bay Area bobcats fueled one student’s passion for wildlife photography

This I’m a Berkeleyan was written as a first-person narrative from an interview with fourth-year student Vishal Subramanyan.

I always tell people I’m a naturalist first and a photographer second. If I didn’t have a camera, I would still be going out and observing wildlife.

I’ve lived in the Bay Area my whole life. Growing up, both my parents were fond of nature in different ways. My mom really loved animals, and my dad was really into camping and hiking. But I also had my own passion for wildlife. My favorite thing to do in childhood was to watch David Attenborough documentaries, and I was particularly obsessed with bears. When I saw congregations of brown bears together fishing salmon in Alaska, I thought, “Wow, that’s something I want to see!”

When I was 13, my dad and I had the opportunity to visit Katmai National Park in Alaska, and we went to Brooks Falls to see the bears fishing salmon. I was using this little Casio pocket camera to photograph the bears, but it wasn’t getting me what I wanted. And then I just said, “Hey, dad, can I borrow your camera?” And he didn’t really get it back.

A brown bear standing on the edge of a small waterfall leans down to catch a jumping salmon in its mouth.
One of Subramanyan’s earliest photos, taken in the summer of 2015, shows a brown bear on the verge of snagging a leaping salmon at Brooks Falls in Alaska.
Vishal Subramanyan

When I got back from the Alaska trip, I thought I’d have to wait for some other trip to continue my photography. But I soon realized there was so much great wildlife here in the Bay Area, and that this was where I could really specialize and tell stories about animals.

One of the first things I did was start photographing foxes — gray foxes and red foxes — in Coyote Hills park, and I also had a phase where I got into owls.

A bobcat carrying a dead squirrel in its mouth
Notch the bobcat, named for the notch on her ear, carrying a squirrel to her kittens.
Vishal Subramanyan

Mid-2017 is when I first got into bobcats. I was out photographing owls in Sycamore Grove Park in Livermore, and a hiker said, “Oh, there’s a bobcat a down that way, it actually just killed a snake.” I spotted the bobcat along the row of a vineyard and got a photo where she was just a little speck in the frame. That was in April, and she was pregnant in that picture. So I returned in August, thinking that maybe she would have kittens around. I saw her cross the trail with a squirrel, and then, from a distance, I watched where she took that squirrel, and three little kittens came bounding out of a tree.

I named that first cat Notch because of a notch on her ear. She had kittens in the park every year, and over time, she grew to trust me. I ended up watching her over the course of four years until she disappeared. And that same year that I found Notch, I found Notch’s daughter, Blondie, who was also raising her with cats in the park.

After that, bobcats became an obsession of mine through high school and the early part of college. I would go every day after school, and I missed prom so I could go look for cats. I loved following these bobcat families, observing behaviors that I’d never seen before — and some that nobody had ever seen before. The bobcats felt almost human-like to me, in the sense that they all had their own individual personalities. I spent so much time with Notch that I truly felt like she was a friend.

A bobcat, flanked by two kittens, sits in the opening of a decayed concrete building.
Blondie the bobcat with two of her kittens. “Many of the times I found a bobcat, it was due to some signs nature was giving me, whether it was tracks on the ground or the alarm calls of ground and tree squirrels,” Subramanyan said.
Vishal Subramanyan

At the time, I felt a disconnect between my academic career and my photography. High school was just something I had do — and when I got it done, I would go to my bobcats. When it came time to decide which college I was going to go to, it was a toss-up between UC Berkeley and UCLA. And the reason I chose UC Berkeley is because I was heavily invested in the bobcats, and I knew if I went to UCLA, I wouldn’t be able to photograph them — and I wouldn’t be able to photograph anything because I wouldn’t have access to a vehicle. So I always say my college decision was primarily based on bobcats.

A great horned owl stands on a tree stump and gazes into the camera.
Subramanyan has photographed a variety of Bay Area wildlife, including great horned owls.
Vishal Subramanyan

My first year and a half at Berkeley was just like high school: I was doing my academics, getting the work done and then doing my photography. I started college in fall 2020, during the pandemic, so everything was online. On September 30th, 2020, I missed my class so I could go look for bobcats, and one of the photos I took of Blondie was later recognized by the London Natural History Museum Wildlife Photographer of the Year awards.

But a major shift happened for me when we started coming back on campus in fall 2021 and spring 2022. As I started connecting with all the amazing wildlife researchers at UC Berkeley, both in the environmental science department and in the biology department, I learned that there are so many people doing awesome research that I can help communicate through my photography. It helped me realize that I would like to pursue a career in environmental and wildlife storytelling, where I can take all this research and conservation that’s being done by academics or nonprofits and turn it into a presentable visual format that the public can understand and engage with. Realizing this helped me finally build a bridge between those two separate worlds.

A mountain lion stands in a clearing among scraggly trees as the sun rises behind him.
A juvenile mountain lion photographed by a camera trap at UC’s Hastings Natural History Reservation. “I’d been trying to photograph a mountain lion for six months without any success, and then one morning a mom and a kitten actually walked by the trap,” Subramanyan said. “The mom triggered the camera, but didn’t look at it, and then the kitten came down a minute later, stopped, and looked right at the camera just as the sun was rising.”
Vishal Subramanyan

I think my skills as a naturalist immensely grew when I started my journey into camera trapping, which was something I picked up in early 2022. I initially started trying to photograph mountain lions, and now I am also working with Alan Shabel in the Department of Integrative Biology to photograph mountain beavers at Point Reyes.

When I started camera trapping, I knew nothing about how or where mountain lions moved, so I would just put my camera in a random field hoping to get something — and it never worked. So I started learning that mountain lions like to move through topographic pinch points, like canyons and ridge tops, and I also learned that they are known to leave scrapes on the ground where they mark their territory.

A person checks a camera that is mounted in a dense, leafy area.
Subramanyan checks a camera trap.
Courtesy of Vishal Subramanyan

And then, as I started working for the Department of Integrative Biology, I learned how to identify mountain beaver holes and which holes are fresh, based on how loose the soil is on the outside or the presence of fresh clippings outside the burrow.

I think that what photography really can do, more than anything, is draw people in. Photos can often capture the beauty in nature in a way that words might not be able to, and I think photography paired with interesting writing can really communicate messages in an effective way.

My goal right now is to start expanding more into videography and filmmaking, with the eventual goal of being able to produce wildlife documentaries. In the future, I’d love to film and photograph tigers in Siberia and their interactions with brown bears, because I think it’s fascinating that the tigers actually hunt brown bears. I’d also love to do more photography in India. I have a lot of family there, and when I visited last winter — for the first time in seven years — I was excited to photograph a black leopard.

But for now, I’m happy to focus on local stories, where I feel I can really have an impact.

A black panther creeps through the forest at night.
A melanistic leopard — a type of black panther — photographed in the Western Ghats of India. “I’d love to tell stories about the Western Ghats, which have a a really unique natural history,” Subramanyan said.
Vishal Subramanyan

Subramanyan’s work photographing a rare badger at Point Reyes National Seashore was featured in National Geographic this week. His photos have also appeared in Bay Nature, the East Bay Times and the fall 2023 issue of Breakthroughs magazine, a publication of the UC Berkeley Rausser College of Natural Resources.

Finding Your Style Through Other Photographers

Finding Your Style Through Other Photographers

Exploring the art of creatively borrowing from other photographers is a nuanced skill that can significantly impact an artist’s work and growth. Recognizing and adapting the influences of others into one’s own photographic style not only broadens creative horizons but also deepens personal expression.

Coming to you from The Photographic Eye, this enlightening video takes a deep dive into the concept of “the art of thievery” in photography, as host Alex Kilbee shares his journey of incorporating elements from admired photographers into his own work. The discussion begins with an homage to Bob Carlos Clarke, highlighting the transformative influence of Clarke’s high-contrast, stylized imagery on the Kilbee’s approach to photography. This segment of the video underscores the importance of acknowledging inspirations while striving to infuse personal interpretations and nuances into one’s own work, illustrating how emulation can serve as a stepping stone to individuality.

The narrative then shifts to the impact of other photographers like Paul Strand and Obie Oberholzer on Kilbee’s creative process. Kilbee details how Oberholzer’s bold use of artificial light and adventurous approach to photography encouraged a more playful and experimental attitude towards his projects. Meanwhile, the exploration of Paul Strand’s work offers a different perspective, with his evocative landscapes and straightforward compositions inspiring a sense of place and atmosphere. These reflections offer valuable insights into how diverse influences can coalesce into a unique photographic voice, emphasizing the significance of being open to various styles and techniques. Check out the video above for the full rundown from Kilbee.