January 2011 Archives

How It Works by Austin Kleon

Happy 2011, friends! It's Sara on this first day back in the new year. We're all well-rested, full of resolutions and good intentions to be better, nicer, smarter, healthier, happier, etc, etc. In the spirit of hitting reset on January 1st, we're going back to the beginning—to the ABCs and 123s of how 20x200 works. Because, every day that we bring you new work, we're doing so in efforts to support you, the collector, as well as the artists we work with. As Jen, 20x200's founder and CEO, said a little while ago: "I started 20x200 with two core goals in mind: I want everyone to collect art, and I want enable an economy that allows more artists to make a living by making work."

Consider this a primer if you are new to 20x200, and a refresher if you've been with us all along. This is how it works (all the cartwheels we do for you):

WHAT'S THIS NEWSLETTER ALL ABOUT?
This is where we present new art to you. Right here! In this very newsletter! It's exciting stuff in your inbox, every Tuesday and Wednesday, and sometimes more often. As a regular reader, you get first dibs (and sometimes, with fast-selling editions, the only dibs) on new prints. You also get the lowdown on why we like a particular work or artist and why we think you might like it too. If, by chance, you don't like what you see that day, you'll find a whole bunch of prints to browse in our archives. It's all part of the process—as you refine your taste, seeing art that you don't like is as important as seeing art you do like. If you really have no idea where, why or how to begin, Jen gives some tips in this interview in Theme Magazine with Sarah and Marc Schiller of The Wooster Collective. But, if it's love at first sight, don't hesitate, snap that print up. Seriously.

WHAT'S THE RUSH? YOU HAVE A LOT OF PRINTS. WON'T THEY ALWAYS BE AVAILABLE?
Nope. Every image that you see on 20x200 is released in a limited edition. This means that, for example, in an edition of 200 8"x10" prints, only 200 8"x10" prints will be sold. Ever. When you see "SOLD OUT" on an edition page, it doesn't mean "out of stock"—sorry folks, those prints aren't coming back. Every print is accompanied by an artist-signed and numbered certificate that guarantees that the artist approved the edition and that only that number of prints was produced. So, if you see something you like, just get it, and save yourself the heartache.

By traditional, old-school gallery measures, an edition of 200 to 500 prints is a large edition. Two things about that: one, on average (ballpark figures) A LOT more people see and buy prints on 20x200 than happen to walk through a gallery* on a regular basis. And two: offering larger editions allows us to keep our prints, especially the smaller sizes, affordable.

HOW DO YOU MAKE THE PRINTS?
Affordable, yes, but cheap our prints are not. We work with amazing printers—the same ones who produce prints for our gallery and museum exhibitions—to create our editions. The artist is involved every step of the way as we proof and print the image. To proof, we make a test print (and often, multiple test prints) and tweak and edit until the test is exactly as the artist would like the edition to be, paying close attention to the colors, the contrast, the texture, all the details! Most of the prints you see on 20x200 are archival pigment prints on 100% cotton rag paper but some are silkscreens, printed on mylar, letterpress, digital or analog c-prints, or colored by hand. Regardless of the process, every print is made with care, inspected, and thoughtfully packaged so that you receive a beautiful object, along with information about the artist and the work.

WHERE DO YOU FIND ALL THIS ART?
We scour art fairs, the internet, books, magazines, galleries and museum shows to find all kinds of great artists creating art today. We're always looking, and we try our best to look at everything that gets sent our way. The Hey, Hot Shot! competition is the only way we review photography submissions, and we get lots of great ones—much of the photography you see here was discovered by our esteemed panel.

While many of our artists already have well-established careers, and show their work at museums and galleries all over the world, we pride ourselves on representing artists at every stage of their careers. Whether they're under-the-radar or legendary, our artists are the best and the brightest.

SO, I'M A COLLECTOR, HUH?
You, yes you! are supporting all these artists. Once you've bought just one print, you're a collector. You've acquired something that directly supports the livelihood of an artist, so not only are you a collector, but you're a patron. Now, it's time to actually live with art. We do offer a few prints framed and ready to hang, and you'll likely see more of those in the near future. But, if you must, or if you prefer, to mat and frame works on your own, I have two things to help you: watch this video and then, download the framing guide for your print (you'll see a green link in the lower, right-hand corner of the edition page).

So, I'll let you get on your way now but if there are questions you'd still like to know the answers to, send us an email at collector@20x200.com and we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Jen will be here tomorrow with the very first edition of 2011.

* Yes, we have a gallery, too! Jen Bekman Gallery is located at 6 Spring Street, on New York's Lower East Side. Jen opened it in 2003 with the goal of creating a warm, welcoming environment for collectors and artists. It was there that she found the inspiration to create 20x200, and its programs remain intertwined with what we do here to this day. Be sure to pop in if you're in the area: there's lots of great art to see and buy there. One thing to keep in mind is that we don't maintain stock of 20x200 prints there; those are carefully packaged and shipped straight to you.

Azaruja #1, 23/7/2001 11:58 by Bert Teunissen

Overwhelmed by the thought of decorating your new home, dorm or apartment? Kim Cook of the Associated Press reports that photography might be the easiest and one of the most cost-effective ways to go. And with all the evocative and inexpensive photographic work available in the 20x200 archives, you're sure to find a winner for whatever space you're looking to fill. In her story, Kim Cook taps our very own Jen Bekman for advice on how to enter the world of collecting and decorating:

If you're new to photo art, how should you decide what to buy? "Start with prints and art books," Bekman says. "It's a great way to figure out what you like. Don't be shy about orienting yourself through something that already interests you: animals, sports, books, nature or even a specific color."

So, if you're feeling a bit intimidated or don't know where to start in figuring out your design scheme, heed Jen's advice—check out our prints arranged by category, or choose photography on the browse page and get to searching!

First-edition-of-the-New-Year greetings, collector friends! As with last year's bridge-burning final edition from Mike Monteiro, today's edition by Wendy MacNaughton would be excellent fuel for any new year's resolve that involves fortifying oneself against future-tripping and/or past-dwelling. The instinct to, as Ram Das famously said, Be Here Now is a noble one. While it's not very zen of me to say so, experience has proven that instinct is infinitely easier to pursue if you happen to love the one you're with, in the now. Our second edition by Wendy, The Universe and Forever, confirms a sneaking suspicion that I'm not alone in feeling this way.

The affinity I've developed for Wendy's work over the last few months has a lot in common with what I find so satisfying and comforting about Joe Holmes' depictions of NYC. I realize this might seem like kind-of a head-scratcher, but bear with me. I often speak about how Joe is capturing our adored city in a loving embrace that's equal to my own—knowing that he is always looking reminds me to keep looking. And, I derive a certain comfort in knowing he's likely to discover and preserve some quintessentially New York tableau that I might of overlooked and definitely wouldn't have been able to photograph as he had.

In Wendy, I've found someone who seems to navigate the terrain of emotions and experience in a way that's reassuring in its familiarity. And, much like I'm not so hot at picture-taking—a fact woefully evident to me this morning as I reviewed my unfortunate attempts at preserving my Hawaii vacation for posterity—I'm also not so hot at talking about my feelings. And when pressed upon to do so, I'm utterly incapable of brevity. (You're shocked, I know.) Conveniently enough, my consuming obsession with making this whole art-for-everyone thing a reality has managed to crowd out my personal life, leaving little time for having feelings, much less for discussing them.

A rather sudden change—Things Happen, doncha know—has me feeling feelings, kind of schmoopy ones even, and (gulp) talking about them too. It turns out it's not so bad; in fact, I'm kinda into it. So far, so good—I give myself an A for effort, but a "needs improvement" for precision and brevity. Fortunately for me, today's edition from Wendy can fill in while I try to catch myself up.

Happy New Year and welcome to 2011, collector friends! Things are starting to heat back up at 20x200 HQ since our short break for the holidays with new editions and projects on deck. Getting back into the normal swing of things, here are the week's top art-related links and stories: 

• To start the new year off with a bang, our artists have kicked it into high gear and have a slew of events for you to enjoy. Tonight, join Jonathan Allen at Lu Magnus to celebrate the release of his new monograph SUPERSTRUCTURE. The reception goes from 7 to 10 p.m.


• Tonight also marks the opening of Visual AIDS's annual benefit show and auction. Postcards from the Edge will host its preview party at CRG Gallery tonight, featuring work from over 1400 artists and friends, including Joseph O. Holmes and Amy Jean Porter. If you're not able to make it tonight, the show will be up through Sunday of this weekend.
  


• Amy Jean Porter's also got your organizational skills for the new year (artfully) covered. She's created a lovely and innovative monthly computer-desktop calendar to guide you through 2011.


• And some never-before-seen images from Joe Holmes's Urban Wilderness series are featured in the most recent issue of Fraction magazine, conveniently viewable online. Joe's work also made an appearance on Flak Photo this week, as part of the site's Winter Pictures. If you're in the city, also be sure to take a look at Holmes's show up at Jen Bekman Gallery through January 23rd.


• 20x200 superstar Kate Bingaman-Burt also rings in the new year with a magazine appearance! Pick up the latest issue of Real Simple to see the illustrations she's contributed to the month's issue.


• And lastly, Lay Flat publisher Shane Lavalette will be offering a limited-edition print through collect.give, a website founded by Kevin Miyazaki, which brings together a selection of photographs by both emerging and established photographers, with all print sales contributing 100% to charity.

The Universe and Forever by Wendy MacNaughton

Stay Icy by Martha Rich

Chocolate Electric by Martha Rich

Let-them-eat-cake Tuesday greetings, collectors! I trust that you're all warm and dry, cool and collected—whatever temperament and temperature you want to be. As for me, well... I'm planning a party in honor of the dearest of friends, preparing for a week-long business trip that comes uncomfortably hot on that soiree's heels, and marginally anxious about NYC's impending blizzard. In other words, I could really stand to steady my nerves a bit! For lots of people a stiff drink (or two) would do the trick. For me? I find nothing more calming and comforting than a sweet treat, which means that this week's trio of delectable editions hold a special appeal.

On today's menu we've got Stay Icy and Chocolate Electric, two little slices of heaven from the wry, witty and prolific Martha Rich. Like me, Martha derives comfort from confections, but wisely chooses to channel her desires into creation rather than consumption, with dazzling results. Oozing with nostalgia and humor, Martha's drawings also have a kind-of barely contained mania about them, the force of their creation testing the limits of any rose-colored revisionism one might feel for a simpler time when a lady's grandest feats were achieved at home and hearth.

As I watched this video interview with Martha, I had a distinct urge to ring her on the phone so we could chat. An odd impulse for me, considering that a) I've never met her and b) I long ago eschewed telephones for the asynchronous-as-you-wanna-be pleasures of IM. Still and all, I'm sure that Martha and I could chat for hours—commiserating about life/work balance and the challenges of modern life—so often pitting feminism against femininity. I would point out to her that she is a badass and a role-model to artists everywhere—I'm almost sure she doesn't realize this, since even the most accomplished artists rarely ever do—and she'd mmmhmm in empathy as I describe my urge to look at baby animals on the interwebs, recognizing how their soothing powers make them kindred spirits to her pastel-hued panettones.

Better still, maybe I could have a little party for her, inviting all the 20x200 artists that she reminds me of to join us. She could compare notes with Austin Kleon on their obliterative* editing skills, and she might have a few choice words for Mike Monteiro about their shared hometown of Philly. Lisa Congdon and Kate Bingaman-Burt could trade war stories with her about the trials and tribulations of signing themselves up to make a new piece of artwork for all 365 days of a given year. She could trade cakes with Clare Grill. What fun we'd have!

And then, just as we were about to wind down, a brand new artist bearing the bizarrest of baked goods would arrive. Who is this mystery guest and what's that she's got in her hands? Tune in tomorrow and all will be revealed!

* Yes, I know that's not a word, but you know what I mean, right?

Confections (adorned) #14 by Amy Stevens

Losing our faith in art is, in a secular culture, what losing our faith in God was to a religious one; God only knows what losing our faith in desserts must be.
— Adam Gopnik, in last week's New Yorker

I nodded in recognition as I read that line in Gopnik's article about feats of molecular gastronomy that have come to define the modern dessert. You're likely familiar with the culprit, something that might be "three upright cylinders—small towers of something wrapped in something—with the tops sliced at an angle," basically the antithesis of everything that's wonderful about Cake Week here at 20x200. Foam of this and essence of that, sheesh! No wonder poor Adam's facing a crisis of belief. With good old-fashioned cupcakes, ice cream and other tried-and-true treats in abundant supply here on the isle of Manhattan, my faith in dessert remains unshaken. I can't help but look askance at how nostalgia-laden these offerings are though, so delicious, and yet so ripe for parody!

As Confections (adorned #14) so ably illustrates, Amy Stevens dishes up exactly that with her madcap creations. One of our most recent crop of 2010 Hot Shots, Amy's submission created quite a stir among our panelists. Her self-described "exuberantly imperfect" results lit up our screens, their irregular, lumpen profiles showcased against equally garish and disorienting backdrops.

While Martha's paintings seem barely contained, their imperfections chipping away at the ideal objects she's depicting, Amy's just thrown in the towel completely, surrendering to chaos—embracing it, in fact—her charmingly grotesque results serving as a sharp and inspiring commentary on perfection as achievement's measure.*

Not content to constrain her parody to the limited range of her viewfinder, Amy extends the excess to the in-person experience, presenting her photographs in overwrought rococo frames, lacquered bright and white. You'll have the chance to indulge in them yourself in just a few short weeks when we open the 2010 Hey, Hot Shot! Showcase at the JBG. The details:

Hey, Hot Shot! 2010 Edition
Opening: Friday, February 4th, from 6:00 to 8:00 p.m.
On View: February 5–March 6, 2011
Where: Jen Bekman Gallery
6 Spring Street, New York, NY

See you there?!

* They're also a lavish counterpoint to the snickering schadenfreude evoked by Cake Wrecks.

First Snow by Paul Octavious

Good morning collectors! It's Sara, with a snow day surprise—not the kind where you get to stay home, build tunnels, forts and snowmen, then drink hot chocolate and watch movies, but just as good. First Snow is the wintry fellow to Paul Octavious's summery Kite Hill which we set a sail last September.

Seasonal siblings, both works are from Paul's series, Same Hill, Different Day. And I know what you're thinking: First Snow looks a little like Joe Holmes's Sledding Hill at Dusk, too. The works are similar, yes, but different, and not just because Joe is photographing in NYC and Paul is in Chicago. This is actually where their works depart: Joe seems to find those specific things that make New York New York—the day-to-day (but still, somehow, cinematic) instances that become icons. Paul, on the other hand, photographs this one hill that could be just about anywhere—a small nondescript mound with a soaring sky standing in for wherever we might want to be. Which brings us back to where these works converge again.

Joe's Sledding Hill at Dusk, comes from his series of photographs, The Urban Wilderness, in which Brooklyn's Prospect Park, wrapped in snow, is stripped of all evidence of its urban environs. The park becomes pastoral—the fantasy territory of childhoods lived elsewhere. Paul's hill too, is usually bare of hints that might belie its true location. Instead, First Snow is made personal by Paul's documentation of the people that visit this same place, over months and years, and the things they bring: sleds, kites, fireworks, bikes.

In his visiting and revisiting, Paul's stumbled upon many a marvels, including, on one foggy, dreamy day, Ghana's World Cup team kicking a ball around. His hill, it seems, offers these things up—just as New York gives Joe yellow cabs, and a yellow dress, red lights, and the tools of passing trades—as thanks for paying attention. They are I think, like the leaves, the apples, the wood, shared between boy and tree in Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree.* What Paul and Joe and Shel seem to know (and share with the rest of us) is that these gifts are better than what shelters, feeds and sustains us, these are the things that nourish us.

* The Giving Tree! Gifts! Of life! Goodness. As I wrapped this up and sent Jen a link for editing, I was a bit worried it all sounds so cheesy. But I do mean it, even if, in thinking of Chicago, I'm afraid a bit of Oprah wore off on me.

Untitled from Book Collection series by Paul Octavious

Happy Friday, collectors! We hope that you are all managing well in the still-frigid clime and that the toasty image above brings a little warmth to your day. We have been ever busy bringing you editions for the week—including a couple delectable treats and an image of snow in its most pristine, just-fallen state. As always, we're ending the week by bringing you our picks for this week's must-see art-related links and stories. Enjoy!

• The Wall Street Journal's Ellen Gamerman and Kelly Crow reported today on the rise in online art buying opportunities, especially for high-ticket items. We're pleased to report that 20x200 makes their short list of places to buy art online, along with the exclusive VIP Art Fair, Artnet and Art.sy. William Wegman's also quoted about some advantages to viewing work online!


• If you're in NYC tonight, or in the near future, stop by Janet Kurnatowski Gallery to see some of Gary Petersen and Greg Lindquist's art up close. Group show Paper 2011 features some of Gary and Greg's work, and opens tonight with a reception from 7 to 9 p.m.


• One of this week's sweet-toothed edition-makers, Martha Rich, also has work on view in NYC. The opening reception for her show Nuts, Charm & Rejection at culturefix gallery is tonight from 7 to 9 p.m.


• And a friendly reminder to those who haven't made it to Jen Bekman Gallery yet, to see Joseph O. Holmes 's The Urban Wilderness, you've got only 9 days left to see those snow-filled prints in person.


• Next up at the JBG is the long-awaited 2010 Hot Shot! Showcase, which opens February 4 and will feature work from this week's other champion of confections and 2010 Hot Shot, Amy Stevens.

First Snow by Paul Octavious	Confections (adorned) #14 by Amy Stevens

Stay Icy by Martha Rich	Chocolate Electric by Martha Rich

Praia Piquinia 02/08/07 15h16 by Christian Chaize

We're pleased to report that 20x200 made The Wall Street Journal's very short list of places to buy art online, along with the VIP Art Fair, Artnet and Art.sy.

In the article, William Wegman provides his own perspective on why his prints have done well:

Mr. Wegman attributes his strong online sales partly to the way his images look on a computer screen. "It's kind of luminous, in a way—it's very attractive, almost more than printed," he says.

Check out the video and slideshow to see all of the 20x200 artists and editions highlighted in WSJ: ny.08.#14 by Jennifer Sanchez, Game Board by William Wegman, Praia Piquinia 02/08/07 15h16 by Christian Chaize and The Sledding Hill (Dusk) by Joseph O. Holmes.

The Denny's Parking Lot by Esther Pearl Watson

This is where I talk about the weather. I am in SF right now, where it's warm enough that I walked slowly back to my hotel last evening wearing a sweater and a cotton scarf that hung loosely because I didn't need to wrap it against the cool-but-not-cold air. In NY, it is bitterly cold and really, really dirty, with week-old snowbanks scattered about, encrusted with soot, layered with left-behind-on-purpose and forgotten things that no one wants to look at, but there they are. You can't really not look, especially if you're out walking the dog and you want your mind on anything but how your shoulders are so tightly clenched against the freezing-ness it's as if they're trying to wrap themselves around your ears.

I don't know what it's like anywhere in Texas right now, but thinking about today's edition by just-outside-of-Fort-Worth native Esther Pearl Watson has me imagining a day so hot that the air ripples, with enough of a breeze to stir up the sand so it gets stuck on the damp hair of your neck, maybe even in your teeth. Esther paints pictures of stories that I want to hear. A few handwritten sentences give away just enough of the plot—suddenly it's not a story, it's a movie and we're building the set, soundtrack and a script. There are spaceships.

In The Denny's Parking Lot, there are child stars who hopefully grow up to be just like Drew Barrymore populating the sound stage, wardrobed in impeccably curated late 70s fashions. I am pretty sure that Esther's dad, builder of the aforementioned spaceships, is played by Jeff Bridges. Heroes and spaceships aside, Esther's at Denny's with her dad, and maybe a sibling who she fought with in the back seat of the station wagon along the way. In the stories most familiar to me, going out to Denny's with dad had something to do with him not living under the same roof with you and mom, who'd cook her own damn ham and eggs, thankyouverymuch. Or maybe she's just sitting this one out at home because she knows that this month's rent is being sacrificed for the used car engine that will most certainly be the exact thing that makes this latest flying saucer fly.

This is where we get to the part where it's possibly easier for this to be a story instead of a memory, with perfectly puffed cotton balls serving as clouds and toothpicks that have bright green Easter grass glued to them standing in for trees. Back then, Denny's was cool and all, but it was hot in the car, and even though Esther was only five or so, it seemed like maybe her mom had a good point about the flying saucers. As a grown-up, Esther can tell the story in a deceptively simple way, referencing the outsider art that she discovered in high school (the same art that made her understand the artistry in her dad's quixotic endeavors) and the comics that make the most painful, awkward episodes of childhood and adolescence fodder for humor, even if some of it is a bit black. She tells these stories over and over, the simplicity and the whimsy expressing something real and universal, about what it is to be a child, and how you remember it, and how what happened then shapes what you become. How she tells it is in no small part due to her dad, so aside from everything else about how growing up with a dad who wanted to build spaceships meant and means, she's got that to thank him for.

Arrow by Bryan Schutmaat

Short-but-sweet Wednesday greetings from warm and sunny San Francisco. (Yes, I said "warm and sunny" because it IS, and man, does it feel good compared to NYC right now.) Today we have Arrow, our third photography edition from team JBP favorite, Bryan Schutmaat.

A quick browse through the Hey, Hot Shot! and/or Jen Bekman Gallery archives will illustrate how neatly Mr. Schutmaat fits in among the photographers of which I adore. Arrow, has the added bonus of bringing back some fond, fond memories, evoking a reminiscence about one my favorite exhibitions ever at JBG. Best Midwestern, a group show of Midwestern photographers, opened way back in the summer of 2004. It was the very first time (of many!) that I showed the work of Alex Alec Sloth Soth, who is now a dear friend. Back then, he wasn't the international-career-retrospective-museum-show-having, multi-book-publishing hotness that he is today, but man, I sure loved the photo that we included, Cemetery, Fountain City, Wisconsin 2002.

I was struck today by that image's kinship with Bryan's Arrow: their brushy, snow-dusted hills and the way that natural light mixes with man-made illumination to give their respective deserted roads a similarly eerie beauty. It's not surprising then, to hear that Bryan counts Alec among his few photographic heroes. And even more fitting: Bryan is now studying under Alec at the Hartford Art School along other venerables Robert Lyons and Doug Dubois. It's when worlds collide like this and everything falls neatly into place that I know we're doing something right.

Day 1: Vintage Erasers by Lisa Congdon

Day 260: Baby Doll Hands by Lisa Congdon

Hi collectors! It's Sara today, with two new prints from Lisa Congdon's A Collection A Day. An abundance of neatly arranged, slightly nostalgic pink things—what's not to love about Day 1: Vintage Erasers and Day 260: Baby Doll Hands? (Given, the doll hands are a wee bit creepy but in a good, goose-bumpy kinda way.) Jen first introduced you to Lisa's project over the holidays, and while the seasonal festivities are long over, there's still lots to celebrate with this pair of new prints—Lisa's forth-coming book, the turning of attention to a new full-time focus on illustration and art-making, birthdays and haircuts. And, then, of course, there are the collections themselves—and collecting itself.

Whether the art collecting thing is new to you or not, I'd wager that you were a collector of some sort at an earlier time in your life. As a way understand the things around us, to personalize and to make them ours, collecting is an instinct that's embedded in us, even before we're aware of what we're doing.

In one of my favorite photographs of my sister, at about age six or so, she is huddled over a pile of petals scattered between her bare feet, circling yellow and red tulips with pastel snapdragon heads and smudgy poppies. Between the two of us, we traded her arrangements—along with piles of sticks, rocks and mica, strawberries, raspberries and the occasional small toad—to win made-up "survival" games. All of these things that individually could be dropped and lost in the grass, blown away and forgotten, collectively took on new (and, usually, dramatically increased) value when gathered, piled and sorted.

Like leaves and twigs, erasers and plastic parts (whether on their own and/or buried in drawers) might not amount to much. But culled and categorized, they take on new meaning, aesthetically, or otherwise. Lisa's collections, smart and sophisticated, are the grown-up version of things we used to do unknowingly (and if we're lucky, continue to do)—the whole project amounts to 365 days of celebrations.

Sweethearts by Jonathan Lewis

Hello, collectors! It's Sara, enjoying a nearly-perfect winter day here in NYC. Yesterday's bitter cold has departed, leaving a flurry of fluffy white snowflakes falling in its wake. It's the kind of day that, were we not all tucked into the office, might be nicely started with a cross-country ski Upstate, followed by a leisurely afternoon in front of a fireplace, warm and cozy, with a book and hot toddy in hand. Sounds romantic, no? (Sigh.)

It is instead my pleasure to share Sweethearts, our third edition from Jonathan Lewis, with you. Jen first introduced his work last summer. Back then, she was instantly relieved of waiting-room worries upon seeing the proof prints for Dots and Jelly Belly. The cheer in Sweethearts is, also, indeed, irrepressible, even when (again) confined to very square corners.

These lines, neatly, but secretly (how does he do it?) assembled into solid and stoic, but chaotically bright forms, are taken from an unlikely source—crassly-colored candy wrappers. Jonathan himself does a swell job of explaining the whys, if not the hows, so I'll let his statement do the talking:

Sweethearts, and the series to which it belongs, See Candy, take their inspiration from the visual cacophony emanating from the average candy section of the average supermarket. My own reaction is to vacillate between an almost childlike wonder at the sheer vibrancy of all the brightly coloured packaging, drinking in the sensory overload, and a more grown-up mode of cynical detachment, a learned defense against our media-saturated environment.

And so we all are when shopping, oscillating like the stripes in Sweethearts: alternately infatuated—operating on impulse—and rational, methodical and sticking to the list, not swayed by our senses. Because this particular print honors the candy most celebrated for the fast-approaching holiday of hearts (yes, that's right, February 14th is right around the corner), it seems appropriate to note that these impulses, whether we like them or not, apply too, to love.

In love, it's easy to sway, as Jonathan has described, between the warmth of childlike wonder and adoration and learned, aloof detachment. For young hearts and relationship veterans alike, the instinct to question connections and others' intentions in efforts to find a one-and-only or a Mr. Right (Now), is natural. It did, after all, take him a week to call back, and why does he think it's okay to text something like that? And really, how did he, on our second date, map out our next twenty years together? Who does that? And why didn't I find it terribly romantic?

And then, when it seems that your worst, pessimistic fears will take over—the end is near and you're doomed to be single FOREVER—someone or something (like this print, perhaps!) surprises you, and the flutters are back. In a good way.

The word is out—our semi-annual sale is on! With all the excitement comes a little news of note as well: THE FINE PRINT.

Some of our prints are already *too* good of a deal and are not eligible for 20% off with RIDONK (or any other code or promo for that matter), including prints by:

Roger Ballen
Ed Baynard
David Byrne
Todd Hido
Paula Scher
Mike + Doug Starn
William Wegman
Lawrence Weiner

Also important:
There is a $50 order minimum. (If you're eying small prints, stock up!)
RIDONK may not be combined with other discounts, offers or promotions. (Again, the deal is already pretty sweet.)
Gift certificates are not eligible for the discount. (Give prints or just get the goods you've been eyeing for yourself!)

And finally, don't forget to hit "Apply" when you're going through checkout to make sure the discount is applied. Now, hop to it! Like all good things, this too will come to an end on Monday, January 31st at 12:00 midnight ET.