A Tapestry Woodland- In The WoodsOctober 04 2012, 15:36
In The Woods Festival from Twenty8Twelve on Vimeo.
A Poetic Review
By Greta Bellamacina
‘In The Woods’ festival is an enchanting one-day festival, but actually it is a truly one-off festival. So intriguing is it, it makes for a paradise of slanting trees and whispering lights. Origami and simmering voices ink the beautiful pathways and wood-laced coves of the British countryside. It captures a magical trance. Fates written on paper wishing trees, a tapestry woodland where poetry and spoken word stages are hushed into tombs of timeless thought. The band highlights include, Fiction, AlunaGeorge and Alt-J. Music. Dancing fabricates the lingering brambled night, as the last beats of summer seduce the first moments of September. Just as the night floats by, a bonfire is lit to luminous flames, emanating glittering luminous lunacies to the new season.
Artist Heath Lowndes - Talks to Twenty8Twelve UnheardSeptember 12 2012, 10:47
‘Around the Corner in Darkness’ - By Greta Bellamacina
Federation of British Artists presents Heath Lowndes; plucked from his 2012 art degree show at Brighton University and placed in the prestigious Threadneedle Space in the Mall Galleries. Heath’s work has caused quite a storm amongst art lovers and non-lovers alike. His oil painting, ‘Around the Corner in Darkness’, is reminiscent of a bay of mystery. A dance in the trees. A painting of both strong commitments to the wild desire of the night amongst lived tales, remote from any other neither told nor sold to the day. Flooding to a first glance of a dream. The towering trees seem to be in motion, flying by like a bike ride through dawn.
Heath describes his main influences as “horror movies and pagan mythologies”. This could describe the succession of dark layers in his latest collection of ‘day and night in the forest’ paintings. Heath plans to travel to India in the New Year to discover the Vedas, an ancient form of storytelling. Lost in both language and population, a philosophical lyric combined with hymns.
Heath has an awareness of the challenges he must overcome as an artist; he talks freely about his agony with his latest collection of paintings, wanting to “translate moving imagery into his oil paintings”. He describes his most creatively rewarding time in Canada, “being disconnected in a small town in winter, with a 24-hour studio and isolated social life”. Heath reveals that like most industries, the art market has become a sanctuary of fame and money. He recently wrote an article on the ambiguity of pricing art, controversy questioning the significance and value of the art world. Concluding that an artist makes their value sometimes regardless of talent.
Like most things moving, Heath has been asked to showcase his work in a pop-up show on Rivington Street, East London, on 1-5th of November. Heath’s direct trust with painting is an on going tale born in eyes similar to ours. Young and real.
Olympian Apollo TwentyTwelve for Twenty8TwelveAugust 16 2012, 12:11
A Poetic Review
by Greta Bellamacina
According to Greek mythology there were twelve Olympian Gods who ruled the world. Standing on the pivot of this hour, two thousand and twelve it seems, that the world has turned a full heart turning circle. Placed in the centre of the Olympic stadium to watch the athletics of Gods and Goddesses of torch bearing war, all travelled elements form the Olympian twelve reasoning the heroic wilderness.
For those who dream for gold
It hung in a torch beyond
Fantasy. Hanging. Locking
And recovering in the finishing line.
It travelled in the interlocking
Glints to rays of instant
Time. Pressed between
Bronzed bodies in the moving,
Anchoring in repetition
Of those precise, movements.
Forming in the exchange. Cupped.
Faster in the sporting twist of
Quarters. Opening wild visions,
Of those who leaped. Stronger in shape,
Created in the folding heights
Of a game. Symbols ordered.
Adapting to shifting strengths.
In a taken dawn. Packed
In collections of splendour. To
Awaking bones, full, alive in moment.
Followed by a showcase of senses,
Foreign, a circle is moulded.
Not finishing but starting.
In silver sums of two. A grid
Immediately rooted. In a remote need
Of running runs of distant pace,
Fanning solid peaks up and afar
For neither you nor I to underestimate.
An ivory glow in a collection, of daring speeds.
Volumes of bursting thrills, skipping
Bare-handed, playing backwards
In refined ambition. Understood.
Their bodies fall like petals.
Back to accomplished dreams. In altering
Voids of infatuation. Crossing worlds ringed
In a spirited blaze of
Minds Black and WhiteJuly 26 2012, 12:10
Minds Black and White from Twenty8Twelve on Vimeo.
“An expression of words reeling the fantasy of poetry. An innocent portrayal of two parts, playing with unknowing pretences and positions. A progression of intimacy, where the mood reflects a collision that is only ‘accidental when realised’, illustrated when their hands touch. And the reality creeps into their playful state, withdrawing them back to the social norm of silence”. – Chloe Primrose Pemberton.
“Interludes between two minds, black and white, passing between notes in moments of chance.” – Greta Bellamacina
Directed By: Chloe Primrose Pemberton
Featuring: Greta Bellamacina
Make-up Artist: Karen Beadle
Assistant cinema photographer: Eve Mahoney
Underground Sensation of SohoJuly 23 2012, 10:37
A Poetic Review
by Greta Bellamacina (photos by Jacob Perlmutter)
The slanting streets of Soho disappear in and out of diffused light. A reality of the night, dampened into the electrifying mystery of the day. Sunken back streets play a fable to a time of blasting mayhem. Milk & Honey a windowless secret, serving pink ladies to interlacing strangers. The taste transcends sweet elegance and a comforting getaway from the cascading roads of central London. Masked in a coloured chameleon dress from Twenty8Twelve, casts a wild underground sensation from a quite corner of Soho.
A passing in Soho
An endless void,
For pink ladies, double. Flowerless.
A number, no door.
To cross worlds of broken silences,
Infatuation vaporised. In these vacant times,
Time to turn inwards.
To see how those intervals crazed thee.
In dwellings of,
Inky Son Business and Marketing
Elsa Elphick Creative Director
Vanessa James Design Director