The Inflatables - Art that Blows Up
inflatable sculpture is more fun.
Recent Inflatable Art from the series
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The Inflatables is an ongoing series of inflatable art, balloons, and environments. Each piece has a unique message. Owing to this, each sculpture has its own statement.
Hero; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 10' x 7' x 10', 2011
Hero, is a defeated caricature of the 50’s cartoon character Underdog. The goofball “hero who never fails” has resigned to abject apathy. Strung out on too many of the “super vitamin pills” that provide his super powers, he sits slumped forward, distracting himself with an iPhone. This is drudgery, and the Hero has accepted the slow demise.
On one level Hero offers the same message of transformative consumption as the used car dealership gorilla that inspires his form. For that matter, so did the original Underdog show. The original cartoon was dreamt up to sell cereal to kids - yet somehow Underdog ended up popping pills to sustain his superpowers?
This piece is about my struggle to maintain amidst the onslaught of technology I use to control the world (internal and external). It's about the need to constantly pop pills – pills to be happy, pills for health, strength, speed, focus, and pills to knock myself out when I can't quiet my busy mind. It’s also about the technological crutch that the smartphone has become. Why do I have to Google something in every conversation? Is it really necessary to be this connected?
I love my iPhone as much as I love a good blast of chemicals. Each gives me super powers, and they both leave me feeling burnt out, lonely, and numb when I over do it. Eventually, one or the other will be the death of me.
Thirst; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 15' x 15' x 5', 2010
Nothing lasts forever. The greatest and most abundant resources: Water, oil, air, sunshine; will all dwindle away. One by one we’ll slowly exhaust them, unnoticed until it's too late. Ubiquitous Icons share this fate. The prowess of every icon will crest as it is saturated within our collective unconscious. As time moves forward, context is lost and the icon is forgotten.
Today, collective humanity is aware and indeed occupied by the reality of scarce global oil supplies. Foreshadowing this situation, Pegasus, the former Mobil Gasoline logo has been retired from its role as color guard to the worlds’ most profitable corporation. Once everywhere, resource and icon alike are now vanishing, and we are forced to move on.
The mythical Pegasus was a poignant archetype for the Mobil Petroleum logo. Born of pure good and selflessness, Pegasus sprang from a patch of earth where the wicked blood of Medusa had spilled and mixed with the soil. Pegasus became the faithful servant of the hero Perseus and later served the god Zeus, hauling thunderbolts for the duration of the horse's life. When he died, Zeus rewarded the creature's selfless service by immortalizing Pegasus in the heavens as a constellation.
For centuries, oil has served as society's pack mule, much like Pegasus in his service to the gods. Whether it is purely good is questionable. But, oil has led to advances in technology, transportation, medicine, and civilization as a whole unparalleled by any other natural resource.
Today, many of us see oil as a threat to the sustainability of our lives and the very planet we inhabit. As awareness of the consequence of our fossil fuel dependence spreads, the connection to Pegasus has already been lost. Abandoned as logo, it's image slips steadily away (much like our diminishing oil reserves).
Laying here dying, the horse uses each gasping breath to beg for our attention. Having taken the form of a common advertising inflatable, its life-blood oozes, pooling a black slick into which it shall return. His constellation now obscured by air-pollution, and the memory of the mythic beast tarnished beyond repair; ExxonMobil's reward is not to gift the icon an immortal legacy, but rather to usher it into a quiet oblivion.
The Mayor Rests; Vinyl, Steel, Mixed Media, Electronics, 13' x 9' diameter, 2008
When the campaign ends, and the road to victory has been trampled into submission, the Mayor rests. He has worked tirelessly to overcome. With the brutality of a heavyweight, he has sparred and won. Punch drunk and bewildered, he slumps into the emptiness of the now. Now drained of the passion of his stumping, he rests. Without repentance for promises unfilled, he rests. Today he retires, as does his cabinet, his friends, and the entire community. The piper has set down his flute. We lead ourselves into a bright new tomorrow. Gone are the days of political royalty. I will miss you McCheese, and I will think of you every time I buy a cheeseburger.
The Dying Gaul; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 35' x 10' diameter, 2007
The deflating white whale symbolizes a cyclical end to obsession. Much like a beached whale, which dies when it's non-buoyant mass collapses under its own weight, human obsession frequently spirals out of control until its bearer can no longer support its mass. The Dying Gaul is intended to be abandoned in the desert, far from an ocean. Once there, it inflates until full, and then slowly deflates, collapsing inward on itself. Fully deflated, and without witness, the cycle begins anew. The viewer is comforted by the uncertain knowledge, and faith, that the cycle of obsession has once again met its end.
Ozymadias Weeps; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 12' x 8' diameter, 2005
Ozymandias Weeps, refers to the poem Ozymandias by Percy Shelley in which a traveler stumbles across the wreck of statue in a vast wasteland of desert. The statue has an inscription that reads "My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings, look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" the irony is that the implied great works have long been destroyed, leveled by wind and time, with nothing remaining. My Ozymandias weeps for the lament of his loss of prowess as the mighty cultural icon he once was.
The Big Boy icon has fallen out of favor with the American public in the last few decades. The franchises have mostly closed, including the once local franchise of my childhood. Apparently, we aren't as keen to identify with the image of an obese child proudly thrusting an enormous cheeseburger into the air above him, as we once were. So here he sits, weeping with his burger on his lap. The foolish grin inverted to create an expression of ironic naive displeasure. His image-prowess is so weakened that he takes the form of a common advertising inflatable, joining the ranks of auto-dealership gorillas, and dancing wind socks.
Hero; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 10' x 7' x 10', 2011
Hero, is a defeated caricature of the 50’s cartoon character Underdog. The goofball “hero who never fails” has resigned to abject apathy. Strung out on too many of the “super vitamin pills” that provide his super powers, he sits slumped forward, distracting himself with an iPhone. This is drudgery, and the Hero has accepted the slow demise.
On one level Hero offers the same message of transformative consumption as the used car dealership gorilla that inspires his form. For that matter, so did the original Underdog show. The original cartoon was dreamt up to sell cereal to kids - yet somehow Underdog ended up popping pills to sustain his superpowers?
This piece is about my struggle to maintain amidst the onslaught of technology I use to control the world (internal and external). It's about the need to constantly pop pills – pills to be happy, pills for health, strength, speed, focus, and pills to knock myself out when I can't quiet my busy mind. It’s also about the technological crutch that the smartphone has become. Why do I have to Google something in every conversation? Is it really necessary to be this connected?
I love my iPhone as much as I love a good blast of chemicals. Each gives me super powers, and they both leave me feeling burnt out, lonely, and numb when I over do it. Eventually, one or the other will be the death of me.
Thirst; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 15' x 15' x 5', 2010
Nothing lasts forever. The greatest and most abundant resources: Water, oil, air, sunshine; will all dwindle away. One by one we’ll slowly exhaust them, unnoticed until it's too late. Ubiquitous Icons share this fate. The prowess of every icon will crest as it is saturated within our collective unconscious. As time moves forward, context is lost and the icon is forgotten.
Today, collective humanity is aware and indeed occupied by the reality of scarce global oil supplies. Foreshadowing this situation, Pegasus, the former Mobil Gasoline logo has been retired from its role as color guard to the worlds’ most profitable corporation. Once everywhere, resource and icon alike are now vanishing, and we are forced to move on.
The mythical Pegasus was a poignant archetype for the Mobil Petroleum logo. Born of pure good and selflessness, Pegasus sprang from a patch of earth where the wicked blood of Medusa had spilled and mixed with the soil. Pegasus became the faithful servant of the hero Perseus and later served the god Zeus, hauling thunderbolts for the duration of the horse's life. When he died, Zeus rewarded the creature's selfless service by immortalizing Pegasus in the heavens as a constellation.
For centuries, oil has served as society's pack mule, much like Pegasus in his service to the gods. Whether it is purely good is questionable. But, oil has led to advances in technology, transportation, medicine, and civilization as a whole unparalleled by any other natural resource.
Today, many of us see oil as a threat to the sustainability of our lives and the very planet we inhabit. As awareness of the consequence of our fossil fuel dependence spreads, the connection to Pegasus has already been lost. Abandoned as logo, it's image slips steadily away (much like our diminishing oil reserves).
Laying here dying, the horse uses each gasping breath to beg for our attention. Having taken the form of a common advertising inflatable, its life-blood oozes, pooling a black slick into which it shall return. His constellation now obscured by air-pollution, and the memory of the mythic beast tarnished beyond repair; ExxonMobil's reward is not to gift the icon an immortal legacy, but rather to usher it into a quiet oblivion.
The Mayor Rests; Vinyl, Steel, Mixed Media, Electronics, 13' x 9' diameter, 2008
When the campaign ends, and the road to victory has been trampled into submission, the Mayor rests. He has worked tirelessly to overcome. With the brutality of a heavyweight, he has sparred and won. Punch drunk and bewildered, he slumps into the emptiness of the now. Now drained of the passion of his stumping, he rests. Without repentance for promises unfilled, he rests. Today he retires, as does his cabinet, his friends, and the entire community. The piper has set down his flute. We lead ourselves into a bright new tomorrow. Gone are the days of political royalty. I will miss you McCheese, and I will think of you every time I buy a cheeseburger.
The Dying Gaul; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 35' x 10' diameter, 2007
The deflating white whale symbolizes a cyclical end to obsession. Much like a beached whale, which dies when it's non-buoyant mass collapses under its own weight, human obsession frequently spirals out of control until its bearer can no longer support its mass. The Dying Gaul is intended to be abandoned in the desert, far from an ocean. Once there, it inflates until full, and then slowly deflates, collapsing inward on itself. Fully deflated, and without witness, the cycle begins anew. The viewer is comforted by the uncertain knowledge, and faith, that the cycle of obsession has once again met its end.
Ozymadias Weeps; Vinyl, Mixed Media, Electronics, 12' x 8' diameter, 2005
Ozymandias Weeps, refers to the poem Ozymandias by Percy Shelley in which a traveler stumbles across the wreck of statue in a vast wasteland of desert. The statue has an inscription that reads "My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings, look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!" the irony is that the implied great works have long been destroyed, leveled by wind and time, with nothing remaining. My Ozymandias weeps for the lament of his loss of prowess as the mighty cultural icon he once was.
The Big Boy icon has fallen out of favor with the American public in the last few decades. The franchises have mostly closed, including the once local franchise of my childhood. Apparently, we aren't as keen to identify with the image of an obese child proudly thrusting an enormous cheeseburger into the air above him, as we once were. So here he sits, weeping with his burger on his lap. The foolish grin inverted to create an expression of ironic naive displeasure. His image-prowess is so weakened that he takes the form of a common advertising inflatable, joining the ranks of auto-dealership gorillas, and dancing wind socks.
