Jon Pylypchuk
Artist Jon Pylypchuk (cool last name, huh?) was born in 1972 in Winnipeg, Canada. He studied in 1996 at the Yale University Summer School of Music and Art, New Haven, earned a BFA with Honors in 1997 at the University of Manitoba, and an MFA in 2001 at the University of California, Los Angeles. He now lives and works in Los Angeles. His work is really different, he does sculptures that are, well, unusual.
His work evolves from the realm of the pathetic. His drawings and sculptures bring to life a make-believe world populated by abused cuddly creatures, where emotional frailty and menace are worn on every shirt sleeve and pet tag. Mirroring the naked state of the human condition, Pylpchuk’s tragic-comic figures are both loveable and loathsome, recreating instances of pitiful irony that ring all too true.
http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/jon_pylypchuk.htm
Artist Jon Pylypchuk (cool last name, huh?) was born in 1972 in Winnipeg, Canada. He studied in 1996 at the Yale University Summer School of Music and Art, New Haven, earned a BFA with Honors in 1997 at the University of Manitoba, and an MFA in 2001 at the University of California, Los Angeles. He now lives and works in Los Angeles. His work is really different, he does sculptures that are, well, unusual.
His work evolves from the realm of the pathetic. His drawings and sculptures bring to life a make-believe world populated by abused cuddly creatures, where emotional frailty and menace are worn on every shirt sleeve and pet tag. Mirroring the naked state of the human condition, Pylpchuk’s tragic-comic figures are both loveable and loathsome, recreating instances of pitiful irony that ring all too true.
Jon Pylypchuk makes his sculptures from the most impoverished materials: scraps of wood, remnant fabric, felt, glitter, and glue. Rendered with wonky ‘best attempt’ aesthetics, Pylypchuk mines all the sentimental authenticity of the unloved yet hopeful media of craft camps and community workshops. Reducing the moral sophistication of the adult world to artless simplicity, Pylypchuk plays out horror and grief with child-like naiveté and chilling matter-of-fact-ness, authoring a folktale of tactlessness, discomfort, and inadequacy. Discomfort is really the theme of his work, I don't dislike his pieces, but I don't feel good looking at them. They somehow speak specifically to a part of the soul that we don't want to think about, or that part of our culture or history that we are ashamed of, that past that we want hidden. Bleh.
http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/jon_pylypchuk.htm
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