Showing posts with label cry for help. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cry for help. Show all posts

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

Wings of Love, by 'Punki', 2014




'Wings of Love'

Punki, 2014, Off Fore Street.


Reminiscent of Eros, the winged God of Love, this artwork features traditional symbols of love; hearts and wings in conventional colours representing romance or passion. However, like an ill-fitting lacy negligee, this number looks a little bit cheap. The message of love does not ring true – the concept of romance is subverted by the harsh outlines in black around the hearts, and significantly, the large, central heart is empty, suggesting a lack of love - or that Punki ran out of red spray paint after filling in the six smaller hearts. Saying that, the idea to leave the piece unfinished is inspired – like a prematurely ended relationship, the viewer is left wondering how it could have been, if only. However, the sharp and blackened tips of the wings, signalling the underlying pain of heartache, serve to remind the viewer of that all was not well in paradise. The wings remain loose and airy despite their poisoned tips, suggesting freedom, but at what price? Perhaps Punki is suggesting not that love sets you free, but that the only way to attain freedom is a freedom from love. Perhaps we are destined never to know. 


Sad Robot (Unknown, 2014)








'Sad Robot'

Attributed to 'Tasha', 2014. Lane beside Turquoise Takeaway.  

The Sad Robot is a masterpiece of expressive art of the very highest calibre. From the exquisite shading, to the highest attention to detail (one can almost imagine the robot's nipples glinting in the morning sunlight), to the profound message the artwork intends to convey – this piece is well worth a sojourn down to Bodmin's finest kebab house.

The image of the sad robot here represents the everyday urban struggle – the daily grind which dehumanises the individual and transforms him into a joyless robotic worker.  The loss of the robot's carefree, childlike state through poverty is lamented through the phrase 'great init' which is also a pun on why the robot is unable to speak up against his oppression – his mouth is literally a grate – 'great init'.  The environment has cleverly been utilised as a canvas, and the robot (as the working individual) now completely relies upon it for his existence. 

The irony of the statement 'work-to-live, not live-to-work' is examined here – while we are forced through poverty to toil away in offices and cafés, we are not enjoying life on a more meaningful, fulfilling level.  In order to live, we are forced to survive in ways which we do not really enjoy at all.  The Sad Robot encourages us to imagine enlightenment through art - begging us to ask 'Is there not more to life than this?' 

This spectacular and thought-provoking piece is currently still on display.

Friday, 10 October 2014

No penguins (Unknown, 2014)



'No Penguins'
Unknown, 2014. Fore Street/Bree Shute Lane Alley.


The juxtapositioning of Bodmin's Mackays and what is most likely to be a penguin instils a sense of confusion in the viewer. The artist exploits this confusion in order to angrily hit back at the establishment through this artwork. The penguin (assuming that it is a penguin) is symbolic of the cold treatment faced by Bodmin's youth, who are being dictated what they can and can't do by a government who doesn't understand them. The bold use of red and black outlines this anger, and the naive style in which the bird is depicted reveals the artist's inner child, a young boy or girl who just wants to play with their toy penguin without having to deal with the pressures and stresses of modern Bodmin life.