J.A. Young (b. 1986) is a queer photographer / multi-media artist based in the American South. Their work draws on a range of influences, including cultural anthropology, world mysticism, the occult, and paranormal phenomena. Using both personal photographs and public domain archival images as raw materials, Young employs various methods (e.g., spontaneous print manipulation, dramatic recomposition, collage, and rephotography) to transform subtle feelings into tangible visual expressions.
For decades, the two men were lovers and travelers. They shared their own and collected Oceanic Art in galleries and "pop-ups" in over 40 countries. The scrapbooks and journals of their adventures, highlighted in the article, look like fascinating pieces. I wish I had known of them before my visit. I'd have inquired about seeing them...
Anecdote Alert
In early 2020, before returning to Toronto and the Covid lockdown, I visited Esnaar, the South Pacific home of the artists on Efate island. The house was in severe disrepair due to the advanced age of its caretaker, Pilioko (Michoutouchkine passed in 2010).
Near the property entrance, visitors had left their details scrawled on pieces of wood instead of a traditional guestbook. It was a striking first impression that didn't prepare me for what lay beyond the front gate.
Inside, I found Pilioki napping. But he quickly rose to welcome me and my companions and let us explore the property, happily answering our questions. He seemed energized by our presence.
The property was covered in art. The walls, doors, grounds, rooftops... Pilioko seemed to recently become fascinated with one particular shade of yellow, and many items I saw that day were that color.
I was taken with one painting in particular — of female Ni-Vans water drumming. If you're not familiar with the artform, see it demonstrated here:
I regret not buying the piece, though it would have stood out in my place, where most paintings are abstract.
After reading the White Fungus piece, I searched and found that Pilioko died in October 2020. No cause of death is listed in his obituary, and I wonder if Covid was involved or if the pandemic-induced loneliness (no travel to the island for over a year) affected the artist.
It's been over four years since his death, and I'm curious about the museum's fate. Was there a foundation or trust to keep it open, or has it fallen to developers eager to build on the south lagoon shore? Googling turns up no answers.
A few days after meeting Pilioki, I was having dinner at a friend's place on Mele Bay. My host, Kieran, has an original Michoutouchkine on his wall, and I mentioned my visit to Esnaar. His brother fetched a book on Oceanic Art, which had a chapter on the two artists, emphasizing their significance and foundational role in South Pacific art. Kieran and Brandon, New Zealanders by birth, have had a home in Vanuatu for years and have decorated it beautifully with local art.
Most expats I met in Vanuatu have left, but Kieran still has a home there. I make a mental note to check if he knows what happened to the bizarre live-in gallery, Esnaar.
Alex Hogrefe is one of the partners there and he's also responsible for the Visualizing Architecture site, which offers tutorials and has a blog, though it hasn't been updated in a few years. You can see some of this gorgeous work below.
I've been reading Craig Mod's wonderful books about walking Japan and I realized how infrequently I see photos of the country that are not Tokyo, or at least not bustling. A bit of searching led me to these lovely b&w photos from Seiki Hayashi.
TOILET FESTIVAL captures the essence of festivals through unexpected photographic portraits of festival-goers emerging from the toilets. These photos, taken spontaneously with a flash, reveal a gallery of unusual looks and attitudes, tinged with a touch of humor, constituting a sociological inventory of the various festival communities.
Nick Veasey's X-RAY photos truly are spectacular. I have some X-RAYs of my dog that I've always meant to get printed but Nick's work is a whole other level. Extraordinary.
Masha Ivashintsova died in 2000 at the age of 58 and she left behind a considerable amount of undeveloped film, which her daughter found in the attic, sorted into dated envelopes.