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Instagram Takeover: Claudia Comte


Welcome to Colorful! I made a colouring book during my time in isolation and for my last takeover post I would like to share it with Gladstone Gallery’s followers. Please click the link in the bio for the download. The book lets you color in my black and white wall paintings from my exhibition last year at Gladstone Gallery, Brussels. I’d love to see your results!! Please tag @claudiacomte if you’d like to share them with me. 
1. Cover of catalogue, Claudia Comte, Welcome to Colorful, 2010, Lucy Mackintosh Gallery
2. Claudia Comte, NO MELON NO LEMON, Gladstone Gallery, NYC, 2015
3. Claudia Comte, Sculpture Object 41: Loony Toons, 2016, ebony, walnut, 31 x 50 x 36 cm 
4. Claudia Comte, The Marble W, 2019, Marquinia marble, 40 x 80 x 23 cm
5. Claudia Comte, The Monument Valley Coloring Book, Gladstone Gallery

Day 3 @claudiacomte #artisttakeover

The Muriwai Monster, the day that wood become saltwater: There lived a pine tree who pined for the sea. It had stood upright, ala a menhir, for 300 years despite asphalt clogged soil, the 30 year drought and the luxury apartment stacked above its roots, it endured. One day a flood broke the drought and swept the old tree away. The tree floated through canals, rivers, over waterfalls and rapids towards the sea, weathering raging currents, at times it was tumbled and pummeled about. Even if it were now only debris, the tree felt it had died and gone to heaven. A few years ago a strange sprawling mass of thick black wormlike tendrils, algae and seashells washed up on the shore of Muriwai beach, New Zealand. People marveled at what this beast could be; perhaps, an unidentified sentient being pillaged from the deepest darkest part of the ocean? Or had an earthquake moored a chunk of seabed to the shore? The Muriwai Monster, as it came to be known, was in fact a gigantic piece of driftwood and home to thousands of gooseneck barnacles - strange, filter-feeding crustaceans that attach themselves to submerged rocks, debris, and shipwrecks. Could this be the pine tree who pined for the sea? You see, even in death, trees have a tendency to boost local biodiversity.

1. Claudia Comte, Bunnies Emitting, 2018, 4D animation, 2’08” min, loop
2. Claudia Comte, Dancing Algae (black on white), acrylic wall painting, Castello di Rivoli, 2019
3. Claudia Comte, The Day that Wood and Matter Wanted to Become Salt Water, 2018. Performance with music by Egon Elliut and dance by Cecilia Bengolea. TBA21–Academy The Current, Chus Martínez, Convening #1, The Waves of the Oh!s and the Ah!s, Chiesa di San Lorenzo, Venice, 28-29 September 2018, Photo: Enrico Fiorese
4. Claudia Comte, A Pine Cone with driftwood on Waiheke Island 13.03.18 (endless pattern), 2018, c-print, TBA21–Academy The Current
5. The actual Muriwai Monster. Photo Credit: Melissa Doubleday via Facebook
6. Driftwood for sale on eBay for 29 euros

Day 2 @claudiacomte #artisttakeover

Hearing Aids and Seashell Resonance: One of the earliest hearing aids was made from a snails conical shell, because its form mimics the twisty spiral shape cavity inside the cochlea - the seashell is the ying to the inner ears yang. In Leonora Carrington’s, The Hearing Trumpet, the protagonist Marian Leatherby, 92 is gifted a hearing trumpet by her bff Carmella. The two have a friendship to admire. We learn that Marian mumbles more to herself then Carmella and that Carmella believes no-one between 7 and 72 can be trusted unless they are cats. Her hearing trumpet is made of buffalos horn and has a mother of pearl floral design.

1.The Pinecone, 2018, bronze, 13.75 x 9.5 x 9.5 in
2.The Shell (Terebridae), 2019, bronze, 20.75 x 6 x 5 in
3. An early hearing trumpet in shell
4. Starfish, 2018, oak, 9 x 29.5 x 28 in
5. The golden ratio and Shell
6. Fibonacci sequence and a pinecone

Posted by @claudiacomte for #gladstonegallery

Day 2 @claudiacomte #artisttakeover

Anthropomorphism: Instead of blood, Starfish have seawater circulating through their pentagonal bodies. Sometimes this can cause voluptuous swelling as if their bodies, like our bodies, had varying shaped cabooses. Personification of starfish has become a viral phenomenon; there even exists the World’s Greatest Online Gallery of Starfish Butts (link in bio). But I suppose this is the least threatening human-centrism they are burdened by. I like to give my sculptures either human names or titles that are rather mater of fact- which is more objectifying? Leonardo, Donatello, Michelangelo, Gian Lorenzo, Guido, Pietro, and Properzia. are the names given to a series of “bunny” sculptures I made from ceramic and marble - they have a pink and white gradient glaze, that’s a little flesh like on closer inspection. If these sculptures could walk and talk imagine them as feminised versions of the teenage mutant ninja turtles, more like the renaissance artist Properzia de Rossi than a playboy bunny. Properzia’s was one of the few women artists recognised during the renaissance period, some stories have been spun about her love life, and sadly, her artistic output was virtually non existent after 1529 due to an accumulation of debt owed to the hospital for victims of the plague. “People can’t help but anthropomorphise” said Zoe Leonard in regards to her work Tree + Fence, 6th St (Close-up) which pictures a tree pushing through a me. 
1. The Bronze Starfish, 2019, bronze, 6 x 15.75 x 15.5 in
2. Starfish Butt
3. The Italian Bunnies (pink ceramic), 2019, glazed ceramic, various dimensions
4. Louis Ducis- Properzia de Rossi finishing her last bas-relief (1822, Musée de l'Évêché de Limoges)
5. Zoe Leonard, Tree + Fence, 6th St. (Close-up) 
6. Talking Trees of Oz, Catalogue extract, essay by Gabrielle Beckhurst, in Claudia Comte, I have Grown Taller from Standing with Trees
7. Barbara Hepworth portrait inside her sculpture “Forms in Movement (Pavan)” (1967)
8. Claudia Comte portrait inside her sculpture “The Helmet”, 2019, cherry wood

Posted by @claudiacomte for #gladstonegallery

Day 1 @claudiacomte #Artisttakeover

Some thoughts from Switzerland...

Protecting habitat:
Percey Shelley in an Essay ‘On Love’
‘in solitude, or in that deserted state when we are surrounded by human beings, and yet they sympathize not with us, we love the flowers, the grass, the waters, and the sky. In the motion of the very leaves of spring, in the blue air, there is then found a secret correspondence with our heart.’ Depicting the landscape after Shelley? I wonder what dendrochronologists think about his ‘Ode to the West Wind’, ‘O, wind, if winter comes, can spring be far behind?’ Or what if Shelley learned to time travel via a Swiss pine’s concentric inner rings, through its heart lines, and life lines? In a recent study, tree rings from wood sourced at archeological sites across Europe revealed that building inactivity coincided with plague outbreaks and higher food prices. Trees are telling us that climate change and human history are intertwined. O wind if winter comes, can spring be far behind.
Orphaned Wildlife Centre, Inc is a charity organisation with a goal to provide safety and nurturing to orphaned animas to help prepare them for their return to life in the wild. You can support via @orphanedwildlife 
1. Claudia Comte, I have Grown Taller from Standing with Trees, @copenhagen_contemporary, 2019 
2.-4 Stills from Claudia Comte, Papua, Kyrgyzstan, Ural Mountains, Tanzania, 2018, HD Digital video, 10 min 50 sec, loop
5. Alastor, or The Spirit of Solitude by Percy Shelley
6. Catalogue extract, essay by Ulf Büntgen, Amalgamation of Cellulose and Time, in Claudia Comte, I have Grown Taller from Standing with Trees, Copenhagen Contemporary, 2019

Posted by @claudiacomte for #gladstonegallery


Hello it’s me @claudiacomte! Here is a little story for you:

To Quiver and Fang: How many fangs does the Tasmanian devil have? A recent study claims that the Tasmanian devil became extinct due to severe weather, and drought rather than wild dogs or hunting as once previously believed. The Tasmanian Devil lived across all of Australia before European settlement in the 1700’s after that they were only ever found in Tasmania. “To fang” is Australian slang meaning “to drive at high speed”. The Tasmanian Devil fanged it to Tasmania. Bridget Riley’s wall painting variation “Quiver” articulates states of “fanging”, moments of disturbance, trembling amidst relative composure.

1. Claudia Comte, The Tasmanian Devil (black on white), 2019, acrylic wallpainting, installation view @castellodirivoli, Turin
2. The Tasmanian Tiger, Thylacene, found clipping
3. Bridget Riley, Quiver, 3 2014, wallpainting at Max Hetzler Gallery
4. Claudia Comte, Soft Coral (four fangs), 2020, Bitter dimsel, 41 x 10 x 7.5 in

Posted by @claudiacomte for #gladstonegallery