NFT of Furby that looks like jigsaw from the movie saw

Result #1

NFT of Furby that looks like jigsaw from the movie saw. It's a parodic and bizarrely obvious reference to the ubiquitous digital image of office machinery. In fact, the work represents only a small part of the more substantial body of work, which includes drawings, photos, and sculpture. (It's been pointed out that the three-dimensional pieces are only sketched in black on white.) The toys were originally displayed as digital prints on a wall at a closed-down gallery in Berlin. The German press then had a hard time in reporting on the event, and it wasnt until the art worlds day of reckoning that the toys were displayed in their usual place, in an uneventful public space. It was a fitting way of the exhibition.Yet the toys were hardly without a certain aura of the sacred. The pictures in the series of Compendium of the Gift, 1995–97, depict small figures in black and white with their hands tied behind their backs. They seem to be leaning against a wall, but their knees are bent forward and they are in the midst of a simple, repetitive gesture. It's the only depiction of the ritual of tying the hands of a child with a rope, which seems to me to be the most touching gesture here. The boys gesture and the girls is simultaneously the symbol of the painters effort to represent the discomfort of the unconscious, but it also evokes the innocence of being an infant—in the words of Jean Genet, a classicist of the sort, of whose work a modern child would recognize as an anachronistic, even impolite. The eroticism of the pictures makes it more difficult to say whether the bondage is legitimate or not. It might be that the bondage is a symbol of the same submission to desire that runs through the process of modernity. It might also be that it was just a bizarre gesture of submission to desire, like a childs signing a release form.

Result #2

NFT of Furby that looks like jigsaw from the movie saw. We see an art object in a room that appears to be a museum—that of a version of the legendary house of the Sculptors, built in 1778 by the artists and their son, James Adams, in the center of the Bay Area, in a magnificent ruin. The contours of the house are delineated in white plaster, in a roomful of the artists collected artifacts from the site, from manuscripts, old books, and other artifacts, as well as a stone in the shape of a crowbar. What at first appears to be a simple, minimalist, three-dimensional object turns out to be a site-specific installation. The French sculptor Jean-Pierre Laurencin (1887–1952), who had taught at Berkeley before becoming a leading figure in the art world, had had a hand in developing the notion of a reconstructed cultural home, a definition that led to the construction of the Mona Lisa at the University of California, Berkeley. The re-creation of the famous image was symbolic, in that it introduced a metaphor that was both visceral and anthropomorphic. And it also indicated the emergence of an art that could be seen as a surrogate for a living sculpture, a replica of a sculpture that had been destroyed.This exhibition, curated by David Bos of the University of California, San Francisco, provided a welcome opportunity to explore the history of the paintings and objects in the collection of the museum. Alongside the drawings, photographs, and objects, visitors encountered photographs by the artist, in which the events that had taken place were documented, and artifacts by the artist. Some of these were not works by the artists but were donated by the collectors to the museum. These objects, often found in the gallery space, were found during the course of the artists research. As in the case of the drawings and photographs, the photographs and the objects were essential to understanding the events and the intentions of the collectors.

Result #3

. This is a lark that if pursued endlessly will yield a series of elegant pictures. In one of these, for instance, a painting is split in two, leaving the two-paneled, two-paned canvas in an ambiguous spot. In other paintings, such as Marlboro Girl, 2008, and Wet Sign, 2008, the jigsaw is broken up by the sides of the painting, so that it looks like a stack of mirrors.The title of this painting, Howdy Doody, refers to the many motley, and by extension also to the ever-changing and hermetic world of dress and accessories. The title also alludes to the pop-culture trend of dressing up as an image of yourself, in which the most mundane items are then combined with the most exotic, and thus exoticized, or bizarre, colors. In effect, this is the opposite of the usual way in which things are arranged on the internet. It is a self-referential, transitive process that involves the transfer of value and image-signs from one context to another, usually via the manipulation of a marketplace for clothes, and vice versa. In this way, Doodys works are a commentary on the way in which fashion has transformed the self as a sign of individuality into a consumer product.

Result #4

.In a corner of the gallery, six stacks of cheap paper airplanes lay on the floor. They looked like the last flight of a doomed plane. These were Hockneys attempts to pass off his paper airplanes as art. In an attempt to avoid being seen as merely a craftsman, he uses cheap paper airplanes as art, and to pass off these as art, he first tries to pass off them as art. In the end, it is his own art. His work is not simply about making art; it is also about the art of making art. And in this sense, the planes, with their small, hard-to-find cardboard cases, are more than just pieces of art—they are the works of art.This is not to say that Hockney is a complainer. His work has always been a bit heavy-handed, a little too easily handled. But in this exhibition he has managed to shed this excess and to shed his own heavy-handedness. His work has been made more playful, less reactionary, more sensual than he has been in previous shows. Hockney has moved away from the craft-based, even frivolous, modernist artistic practice he has been pursuing for some time. But the move is a positive one. It is a good one. It gives new depth to an old idea, which is that the art of making art can be both a challenge and a delight.

Result #5

NFT of Furby that looks like jigsaw from the movie saw, and it is a perfectly timed juxtaposition with the sleek, sleek metal of the donor vehicle. This is an innovative, high-tech vehicle, and it would be foolish to take it for a ride. The culture of the luxury sportscar is rapidly emerging as the new high-end—a status that will continue to be enhanced by the introduction of faster and more luxurious sedans, particularly in the coming years. The future of these vehicles is not far from our own: It will be made in Japan, the consumer-friendly manufacturing landscape of Japan.As for the commercial-scale sports car, Kureis work feels a bit rough around the edges. The body of the F1 prototype shown here, with its big wheel and the monocoque facades of its interior, is compromised by a small gap that separates the car from the wall. (The gap is covered by an air duct.) The car is heavy, and in its passenger seat is a small seat that makes the head of the seat (and the driver) much smaller. To be honest, the work looks like a glorified sports car, with its low-slung, muscular body and its emphasis on sport as a luxury. But the car is not sports, and the seat is not sporty; it is a low-slung, sporty car. Kureis sculptural synthesis of sport and business is, of course, about business. Her sculptural synthesis of business and art is about art; it is about art as business. Her sculpture and her architecture is about the business of art. She uses the art car as a vehicle for her commercial work, which is to create sculptures of art. She uses this work to make commercial art. This is the case with the works in the show: Her sculptures and architectural drawings are not the products of an artistic or creative drive but are the results of a business process that is both creative and business-like.