安杰洛玛斯柯
アンジェロムスコ

xylem

source: designboom

the photographic portfolio of angelo musco, an italian-born and new york city-based artist, is comprised of elaborate,
large-scale panels picturing millions of bodies captured in various formations. musco then overlays human images in order to
construct a structure highly detailed photographic work picturing a structure built from these forms.
at a distance,
the image appears to be something from nature such as a tree, nest, honeycomb or web, while at close-range,
the viewer recognizes the interconnected chains and masses of nude bodies which make up each greater structure.
designboom has compiled a behind-the-scenes view of this intricate photographic portfolio and process, focusing on ‘xylem’,
one of musco’s most recent compositions. ‘xylem’ is taken from the classical greek word for wood. the xylem tissue is recognized as that which transports nutrients and
water beginning from the soil into the roots to the trunk and leaves of every tree. the project is built from millions of human bodies,
representative of the energetic connection between nature and humanity. the piece appears to be a levitating forest, the roots and branches
equally exposed and constructed from million nude bodies.
the production of the large-scale image began in june of 2010 and was completed the following year after three photo shoots
and hundreds of models who were photographed in three separate locations in the artist’s NYC base. after capturing photos
of the group of bare bodies in various formations, musco compiled the images, digitally editing over 1 million bodies
in order to form the intricate forest scene.
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source: nsaxonanderson

Musco creates “Bodyscapes,” enormous images composed of thousands, even millions of naked bodies. What looks like a forest scene or a bird’s nest from a distance turns out to be, upon closer inspection, a mass of bodies stretched, reaching, bent, huddled, flying, swimming, curled, piled, entwined—but most of all, amassed, aggregated, collected, concentrated. The images are certainly beautiful, but it is a terrifying beauty. For Musco, the body is a site and a celebration of pain as well as joy. The circumstances of the artist’s birth are astonishing. After a gestation of eleven months, Musco was an excruciating fourteen points at birth and acquired Erb’s palsy, which left him paralyzed on his right side and necessitated a childhood of intense physical therapy.

The themes of conception, gestation, and birth are readily apparent in Musco’s work, in which images of nests (Ovum) and swirling submarine worlds (Tehom). So too, however, is a desperate drive to control the body, to have it compose and arrange itself, to move or remain fixed according to one’s will. This impulse toward control informs his entire process. Musco climbs a ladder to photograph his models, who are situated on a green backdrop below. From this perch, he directs his subjects, in groups and alone, to take on various attitudes and positions. With the help of a small team of digital artists, he uses Photoshop to compose the bodies and create his bodyscapes. It is a process that takes months, sometimes years, to complete from conception to the final work.

While the images that Musco conjures clearly reference the natural world, most prominent to me is the technology—the technics or technicity—involved in his work. Of course, I’m speaking at a superficial level about the digital tools and techniques, the concrete apparatuses, that Musco and his team use in their image manipulation and production, though these aren’t really that interesting in and of themselves. For me, these tools and techniques respond to a certain technological conception of the organic body (the human body, but not exclusively so, of course) that has taken hold from the latter half of the twentieth century onwards.

The primary technique in question here is that of concentration, which, for Jean-Luc Nancy, produces the mondialité, the “globality” or “world-wideness” of bodies, and thus heralds the birth of the globally integrated world we inhabit today:

The world-wideness of bodies [la mondaialité des corps] is also announced in this way. Bodies murdered, torn, burned, dragged, deported, massacred, torturned, flayed, flesh dumped into mass graves, an obsessing over wounds. The cadavers in a mass grave aren’t the dead, they aren’t our dead: they are wounds heaped up, stuck in, flowing into one another, the soil tossed right on top, now winding-cloth to define the spacing of one, and the another, death. There’s no scar, the wound’s still open, the bodies don’t retrace their areas. As if on the reverse side of spirit, they’re sublimated into smoke, vaporized in fog. Here, too, the body loses its form and sense—and sense has lost all body. Through another concentration, bodies are only signs annulled: this time not into pure sense, but into its pure exhaustion.

It’s hard to say to what extent concentration (initials: KZ) will have been the birthmark of our world: a concentration of spirit, an incandescent SELF—and a concentration of bodies, masses, gatherings, crowdings, crammings, accumulations, demographic spurts, exterminations, large numbers, fluxes, statistics, the haunting presence, for the first time, of a world population, anonymous and exponential. . . .

Thus the world of bodies is produced, and this is finally our world’s unique and genuine production. Everything comes back to this production: there’s no difference between “natural” and “technical” phenomena (a cyclone in Bangladesh, with its hundreds of thousands of deaths, its tens of millions of victims, being indissociable from demography, economy, the linkage of North and South, etc.); or else, on another level, a society causing margins and exclusions to proliferate is affected, and also infected, by shockwaves all the way into its centers (drugs, AIDS), and these are still bodies, and this is still their wound. This, then, is what world-wide [mondial] means first and foremost; it’s not necessarily something that occupies the whole planet (even thought that too is becoming the case) but what, in place of a cosmos and its gods, in place of nature and its humans, distributes and gathers bodies, the space of their extension, the exposition of their denuding. (Nancy 77-79)

This is what Musco’s work depicts: our globalized world of wounded, raw, and displaced bodies, endlessly captured, concentrated, commanded, and controlled. This is a world of vulnerability, yet in that vulnerability is the potential for endless connectivity, which Nancy calls the “ecotechnical”:

Our world creates the great number of bodies, creates itself as the world of bodies. . . . Our world is the world of the “technical,” a world whose cosmos, nature, gods, entire system is, in its inner joints, exposed as “technical”: the world of the ecotechnical. The ecotechnical functions with technical apparatuses, to which our every part is connected. But what it makes are our bodies, which it brings into the world and links to the system, thereby creating our bodies as more visible, more proliferating, more polymorphic, more compressed, more “amassed” and “zoned” than ever before. (89)

The exposure to which Nancy refers here, he is careful to note, does not imply that bodies are suddenly being turned into “technical objects,” as if they never have been before. Bodies have always been imbricated with, connected to, produced by, and processed through technologies and techniques, subject to innumerable machines and machinations. New means of connecting and concentrating bodies and the enormous scale at at which these linkages, connections, and interfaces among bodies and apparatuses now take place simply make the technical dimension of bodies more blatant than ever before. The ecotechnical simply “sheds light on” what is most machine-like about organic beings, what is already material and manipulable; calculable and quantifiable; discrete and digital; posable, composable, decomposable, recomposable, disposable.

The danger here is that bodies rendered in this way lose their sense, their soul, become banal—a generalized life that is subject only to a tekhnē of production and control, and not one of creation and creativity. Musco’s art is striking in that it rides the interstices between these two possibilities, an exercise in technologies of control, but also techniques of artistic creativity. His concentrations of human bodies is dehumanizing—or rather de-anthropomorphizing—but imbues them with new sense, and new soul.

Just a final note: Musco has become fairly prominent of late, and is the subject of a forthcoming documentary, slated for release this fall. I have embedded the teaser trailer for the doc, called Conception, which looks like it could be an intriguing film. I must admit that I find somewhat disquieting the repeated tableaux of Musco standing fully-clothed amidst his naked models, who reach for and clutch at him from below as the camera tracks in a circle around them. That is not at all to question the artist’s motivations or the ethics of his art. I feel as though these shots have more to do with the filmmaker’s decisions than Musco’s, but that’s pure speculation on my part. In any event, these shots clearly speak to the notions of control and the ecotechnical production and concentration of exposed bodies.
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source: 500photographersblogspot
Angelo Musco, 1973, Italy, makes larger than life photographs that consist of an uncountable number of bodies. As the photographs are made up of numerous images they are very sharp and invite the viewer to go on a quest of discovery.
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source: kulturaonlinepl
Historia narodzin Muscato być może jest częściowo lub całkiem sfabrykowana. Nie zmienia to faktu, iż świetnie oddaje ona naturę dokonań włoskiego artysty. Jego twórczość powstaje bowiem na styku tajemnicy istnienia i biologicznych form. Z jednej strony operuje konkretną cielesnością, z drugiej – kreuje pejzaże, przypominające i oniryczne krainy i religijne objawienia. A wszystko za pomocą… ludzkiej golizny.
Praca z nagimi modelami cechuje warsztat wielu współczesnych fotografików typu Stanley Tunnick. Podejście Musco wydaje się jednak wyjątkowe. Włoski artysta traktuje nagość na zasadzie tkanki, z której powstają zaawansowane organicznie kształty. Zdjęcia rozebranych modeli trafiają więc do komputera, aby ulec daleko idącej kondensacji. Musco scala je, zwielokrotnia i wtapia w głębokie tła. Z tysięcy cielesnych drobinek powstaje obraz całkiem nowego istnienia.
Łożyska, jaja, gniazda, struktury genetyczne, naturalna architektura i wiele powiązanych ludzkich ciał reprezentujących życie we wszelkich przejawach – tak Musco definiuje zakres własnej twórczości. Przyznaje zarazem, iż wielki wpływ miał na niego rodzinny Neapol, pełen architektonicznych zabytków i dzieł sztuki sakralnej. Musco rozgłos zyskał aczkolwiek dopiero po przeprowadzce do Nowego Jorku.
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sources: ideafixa
Um corpo de trabalho que é impulsionado pela experiência pessoal: um parto prolongado até o décimo primeiro mês, devido à uma disfunção hormonal – Paralisia de Erb. A gravidez difícil deixou marcas profundas tanto na memória inconsciente do artista, quanto em seu corpo físico e transformam-se em uma narrativa de reflexões silenciosas e visões surreais.
Nascido em Nápoles em 1973, Angelo Musco formou-se na Accademia Delle Belle Arti e vive em Nova York desde 1997. Suas imagens fotográficas são preenchidas com um misticismo atônito de sua própria origem.
Placentas, ovos, ninhos e a estrutura genética são retratados pelo entrelaçamento de centenas de corpos nus multiplicados milhões de vezes.
A mistura harmônica de arquiteturas geométricas naturais retratam tecidos orgânicos flutuando em um“mundo amniótico” em dimensões gigantescas. O artista contemporâneo consegue expor seu transtorno físico-mental preenchendo, simultaneamente, a lacuna de seu trauma e nossos olhos de beleza e admiração da perfeição física irreal.
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source: kleoolv
Angelo Musco veido darbus – kollāžas iesaistot cilvēku ķermeņus. Katrs darbs top no vairākām fotogrāfijām.Pats lielākais darbs Tehom veidots no 200000 cilvēku ķermeņu foto.Autors dzimis Itālijā,Neopolē 1973.gadā.Viņa mākslu noteikti iespaidojis fakts,ka pasaulē Angelo nācis 11 mēnešos,svēris 6.5 kg – ļoti smagās dzemdībās.Nākošos 5 gadus viņam bija paralizēta ķermeņa labā puse.Bet šis fakts nav liedzis māksliniekam radoši izpausties.No 1997.gada dzīvo un strādā Ņujorkā.
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source: augenblicket-onlinede
Millionen nackter menschlicher Körper treiben durcheinander. Manche strecken verzweifelt die Arme aus, als wollten sie dem Betrachter die Hand zur Flucht reichen. Der Fotokünstler Angelo Musco konfrontiert seine Betrachter mit Szenen, die die Wirklichkeit auf den Kopf stellen.
Lebende Wesen formen Nester, Fruchtblasen oder Eier und deuten auf ein Lebensthema, das sich auf Muscos traumatische Geburt zurückführen lässt. Davon ist der Künstler äußerlich und innerlich gezeichnet. So wurde der menschliche Körper in seiner Kunst zum Medium. Musco verschmilzt die nackten Gestalten wie zu Hunderten von Pinselstrichen. Die so geschaffenen Kreationen muten wie Abbilder der Natur an – angefangen beim XY-Chromosom bis hin zu einer Ameisenkolonie oder einem gigantischen, verwirbelten Unterwassernest. Mittlerweile füllen unzählige Bilder sorgfältig arrangierter Körperknäuel und Aufnahmen posierender Modelle das Fotoarchiv von Musco und dienen als Grundlage seiner ausgefallenen Bildkompositionen.
Angelo Musco kam 1973 in Neapel zur Welt – mit einem Gewicht von 6,5 Kilogramm. Seine Mutter litt unter einer seltenen hormonellen Störung. Ihre Schwangerschaften dauerten länger als gewöhnlich und so waren die Babies bei der Geburt erheblich schwerer als andere. Während der ersten Semester seines Studiums an der Akademie der schönen Künste hauste Musco direkt neben dem 80 Kilometer langen Höhlenlabyrinth, dem unterirdischen Neapel. Die Legenden und Mythen, die sich um die “Unterwelt” Neapels, ranken, übten eine unwiderstehliche Faszination auf den jungen Künstler aus. Aus Geldnot begann Musco, mit Installationen aus unterschiedlichen Materialien zu experimentieren. Das waren auch die Anfänge seiner unverkennbaren “Handschrift”, menschliche Körper als Element in der Fotokunst einzusetzen.
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source: theiqons
Un corpo di lavoro profondamente legato alla sua nascita: molto più vicina alla morte che alla vita. Una nascita colma di angoscia che ha lasciato il segno paralizzando totalmente la parte destra del suo corpo. Angelo Musco, napoletano, classe ‘73, ora residente a New York, trascorse i primi dieci anni della sua vita in terapia riabilitativa.
Tutto questo ha scavato profondi solchi sia nelle sue memorie inconsce che nel suo corpo fisco. Nei suoi lavori la tribolazione si tramuta in immagini sospese nell’acqua, riflessioni di visioni silenti e surreali: Placenta, uova, nidi, architetture naturali, una moltitudine di corpi umani intrecciati, che rappresentano contenitori di vita.
Una realtà fatta di corpi orditi, galleggianti in un mondo amniotico, dove le visioni subacquee, vengono presentate come un macro-utero.
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source: etodayru
Анджело Муско (Angelo Musco) создает невероятные по масштабности картины из обнаженных человеческих тел. Его работы затрагивают вселенские вопросы мироздания. Каждая картина это коллаж из множества фотографий, для создания которых приглашаются добровольцы. Самая большая картина Tehom, состоит из 200 000 тел.
Автор родился в Италии, Неаполь, в 1973 г. Интересный факт, родившись на 11 месяце, весом 6,5 кг, в результате сложных родов едва не погиб. Следующие 5 лет у него была парализована правая сторона тела, правая рука не двигалась. Это не могло не повлиять на его дальнейшее творчество. C 1997 г. живет и работает в Нью-Йорке.
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source: mindandmapblogspot
Angelo Musco est Napolitain et vit à New York, il réalise des montages photographiques situant l’Homme au coeur de multiples symboles comme l’arbre pour l’enracinement de la vie, le nid pour le berceau de l’humanité, le tunnel pour le passage du temps et des générations ou pour le doute lié au passage sur terre, etc. On y retrouve l’esprit des fresques de grands maîtres tels que Michelangelo, Raphaël, Véronèse et consorts sous les voutes divines d’Italie, on imagine la lumière et les ombres des grands chapiteaux donner des dimensions presque envoûtantes.
Xylem est une forêt profonde, un système constitué de racines et d’arbres. Ovum est son prolongement en un nid