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etveland.bsky.social
Artist Owner of Hullet artist run initiative/gallery/projectspace Been seen standing in rivers drinking coffe https://hullet.art/ https://tversland.com/
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hullet artist run initiativ

Anton Kovacs, a poet by training, Kovacs approached photography as a kind of translation: he sought not to document reality but to translate its silence into imagery. His series, “Echoes of Dust,” is less a record of brutalist architecture than a meditation on its erosion.

“Ruins of the Horizon,” is a haunting coda to their lives. These photographs, developed from their recovered cameras, are filled with emptiness: empty skies, empty corridors, empty spaces where once there were dreams.

“Every building,” I begin, “is both a promise and a failure, both permanence and decay. And every photograph is a theft, the capture of a single moment that denies the infinite possibilities of what could have been.”The story of the Collective of Raw Light is not merely the story of four individuals

The Painter and the Subject is a provocative and controversial 21st-century art installation by artist Markus Albrecht. The piece explores themes of power, identity, and vulnerability through an intimate portrait of two contrasting figures—a brooding artist and his unapologetic muse.

The painter’s hand, a trembling grace, Scraped shadows onto a canvas face. Behind him stood, in yellow tight, A silent muse, bathed in sterile light. Unspoken truths his brush concealed, Desires raw, yet never revealed. Each stroke a veil, each line a lie, A hidden hunger he can’t deny.

Artist Dave "the Darwin" Rochchild sat shirtless, sweat beading in the Anthropocene’s sterile aftermath. Taxidermied deer, relics of a fading world, stood like silent witnesses. His studio reeked of decay, each lifeless form a cruel monument to humanity’s dominion and irreversible madness.

Paul Samuelson reveled in chaos, smearing his canvas with the faces of torment. His studio, a shrine to suffering, reeked of neglect. Each stroke mocked his muses, their features distorted in malice, as he grinned—creator, destroyer, unrepentant god. Everone is trapped in his art..

Zane Richter is known for his reclusive nature, rarely granting interviews and preferring to let his work speak for itself. He currently resides in a remote countryside studio. He would sit for hours in front of a mirror, painting himself in real time as audiences watched.

The Hegemonists Anonymous, a conservative art group rebelling at the shifting boundaries of taste, expression, and control. Surrounding them were the spoils of excess: broken champagne glasses, discarded caviar tins, and what appeared to be a mangled gold-plated speaker

Balthazar Krugg, often described as the "rebel with a palette," is an eccentric artist known for his provocative installations and immersive performances. His art blurs the line between rebellion and creativity, often utilizing military motifs to critique societal structures and power dynamics.

Behind Elan Mus, a small camera rig blinked its red recording light. He’d been documenting the process for his upcoming gallery show, Testosterone Unbound. The exhibition was to feature a series of performative sculptures, each exploring what Marlow called “the primal poetry of the male spirit.”

Two figures stand, entwined with bare branches’ grasp, Earmuffs rest like a quiet rebellion, Against whispers of nature, the muted battalion. This is no love for the earth's embrace, But an artist's glare at its chaotic face. In tangled twigs and shadowed hue, Creation stirs where contempt grew.

A chill threads through the salted air, Yet the artist sits, lost in the ocean's stare. Seeking muses in the tempest's refrain, Borrowing warmth in secret, subtle grain. Here, where earth and heavens blur, Dreams awaken in the sea’s soft purr.

Swim on, swim deeper David Lynch, thanks for making life a bit weirder.

In front of Erwin Kettle was his "interactive component," an intentionally crude rowing machine. His theory: rowing symbolized the futile labor of artists paddling against the tides of commodification. Yet, the audience failed to see his genius. To them, it was an old man struggling to exercise.

Unfazed, Roger Silversson continued his pose, certain that the uncomfortable silence was the audience contemplating his brilliance. He did not notice the plaque beside the painting, which read: "Dedicated to all who confuse projection with introspection."

Tonight, he was lost in thought, his fingers absently tracing the frayed edge of his leather sketchbook strap, slung low like a badge of creativity. The tank top and tattered shorts he wore betrayed the summer’s unrelenting heat, but they also signified the pragmatism of a life lived in conflict.

Diego Varela (b. 1985) "The mirror is capitalism’s perfect metaphor, it shows us what we think we are but hides the systems shaping that image." For Varela, art remains a tool to "reflect not just who we are, but the systems that make us forget who we could be."

Shortly after these images was taken, Magnus Wee was found collapsed at the foot of his creation, his heart succumbing to the strain. His death was ruled as a result of prolonged steroid abuse, a revelation that shocked the world and ignited debates about the pressure and sacrifices artists endure.

Work in progress

Wip

“Behind every man is a light fixture—a beacon illuminating his flaws, his failures, his deepest desires". The manager stared at Tony Winther, wondering if he could quit without forfeiting his last paycheck. Somewhere in the background, the light fixture buzzed faintly, as though judging them both.

"Behind every man is a lie," Reagan Werner muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "And behind that lie, a brand manager. Behind every manager is capitalism", Reagan added under his breath, dragging a thick line across the canvas. "And behind capitalism… nothing worth painting."

Everything I Know: 42 Hours Of Buckminster Fuller's Visionary Lectures archive.org/search?query...

Far beyond the reach of cities and their choking sprawl of glass and steel, there lived an artist who loathed civilization with every fiber of his being.

In 1910 landartist Steve Peterson, pioneerd harmony between body, land, and spirit, using meditative practices and earth’s raw elements to reshape the boundaries of Western art and consciousness. Quote: "Art is the breath of the earth meeting the stillness of the soul."

Through nature’s chaos and symbolic creatures, Kell Hounder explore the tension between creation and consumption, crafting an aesthetic rebellion against the commodification of art and life itself. "To create outside capitalism is to let art breathe freely, like ravens in an untamed sky."

"In the dim glow of an avant-garde studio, a luminous self-portrait contemplates existence, flanked by antique lamps—because nothing says ‘post-Marxist critique’ like overthinking under bad lighting." From the studio of Seth Banner jr.

"My work satirizes permanence and vitality, presenting decay as static beauty. Through deliberate banality, I challenge the cyclical glorification of transformation, questioning the performative narratives imposed by nature's so-called resilience." Elian Mosks

Höfer’s art integrates bold textures and monochromatic contrasts which he describes as "mirrors for the fragmented self." His philosophy centers around his iconic quote: “No, you are blur.” This phrase encapsulates that identity and reality are fluid, shaped by the distortions of perception.

Elias "Stone Whisperer" Drayford's favorite theme is decay, which he calls “the true legacy of mankind.” His work often includes exaggerated natural forms with inexplicable holes and cracks, because, as he says, “imperfection is cheaper and faster to finish.”

“Silent Storm” (2022) An installation combining large-scale, snow-textured panels with video projections of Aris Voltan painting his face live. This piece symbolized nature’s overwhelming presence in the life of humans and their attempt to control it through art.

Tim Carr namde the piece “The Ark”, though it bore no resemblance to the biblical vessel of salvation.—an amalgamation of fractured planes, sharp edges, and dark shadows, half-buried in snow and ash. The scene looked less like art and more like the remnants of an apocalypse, frozen in time.