practise continues: sonic youth

 

A big part of this work, had been done back in December, but somehow i wasn't pleased with certain of its details, so i had to put it aside . Thanks to the past few projects, solutions or certain ideas became more clear and concrete, so i finally managed to put it together, in a way that evokes the feeling i had in mind.

Practising on illustration

Ok, let me explain you what is going on here. Usually an illustration takes me about two weeks, half of the time goes to rendering the face, since my work is mainly "portrait oriented". In this case I tried to cut down the time to three days (in fact, it could have been just a couple) and produce a coherent result. It took me just a few minutes to make the rough sketch,(since the point was also to make a figure out of my imagination, with no reference) and I thought that I shouldn't try anything more elaborate, just go on and develop it into an illustration. What i always bore in mind was to respect the pencil lines, that's why I tried to keep them as they were, without making them more smooth in the photoshop. The certain feeling that comes out, i believe that is the result of the scanned pieces of paper i used, pieces that i had already washed in chlorine bleach, to make them lose their color. 


"Io sono Juno", means in Italian "I am Juno", the Roman name for the Ancient Greek Goddess Hera, Zeus' wife. The white part of her costume, was mend to resemble the column of a Greek temple. Finally, chromatically this piece of work is based on white, red and blue colors, which are often used in flags, such as those of UK, USA or France, and in this case i chose them to give a sense of power to the figure.

L'Albatros

L'Albatros

Souvent, pour s'amuser, les hommes d'équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.

À peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l'azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîner à côté d'eux.

Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu'il est comique et laid!
L'un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,
L'autre mime, en boitant, l'infirme qui volait!

Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.

— Charles Baudelaire