Space Face by Monty Monty
It seems as though real face time has been diminished and all but replaced by the evolution of "progress". The interaction that occurs when people engage
face to face is becoming less frequent. As a result of this evolutionary fact, I have decided to create a new kind of face through an artful process.
"Space Face" is the second assembled face in the series. Enjoy.
Scale: 20" x 13" x 5.5"
face to face is becoming less frequent. As a result of this evolutionary fact, I have decided to create a new kind of face through an artful process.
"Space Face" is the second assembled face in the series. Enjoy.
Scale: 20" x 13" x 5.5"
The “FACE” Series was inspired through a dream.
In this dream I was walking down a dimly lit long hall corridor. There was someone at my right side walking along with me down this expansive hallway that seemed to go on and on forever. Our footsteps echoed with a clip clop clip clop sound. Heel toe, heel toe. I could faintly make out the figure next to me, a shadow of a man not tall but shorter than myself. No one spoke, I nor the stranger. Just the hollow sound of foot steps on the cement floor was all that could be heard. Occasionally I would take a glance to my right but was unable to make out who this person was next to me. Who was it? Did I know this old man? And where did this corridor lead? How much further? Walking, walking, clip clop, clip clop, echoes. Finally a bit of brightness appeared! Another hundred yards or so a light was glowing from around a turn to the left. Perhaps this light would shed some light on this long walk to who knows where. We finally reach the corner, turn left, and there in a large brick walled room with high ceilings, faces hung. Dozens and dozens of faces. Wild works of art covered the walls looking like ornate masks made from found objects. I remember these! I turn to the slightly heavy set balding man at my right, his shoulders are raised as he held his hands out as if to say “What is all This!” and I say to Picasso, “It had to be done”.
Monty Monty
In this dream I was walking down a dimly lit long hall corridor. There was someone at my right side walking along with me down this expansive hallway that seemed to go on and on forever. Our footsteps echoed with a clip clop clip clop sound. Heel toe, heel toe. I could faintly make out the figure next to me, a shadow of a man not tall but shorter than myself. No one spoke, I nor the stranger. Just the hollow sound of foot steps on the cement floor was all that could be heard. Occasionally I would take a glance to my right but was unable to make out who this person was next to me. Who was it? Did I know this old man? And where did this corridor lead? How much further? Walking, walking, clip clop, clip clop, echoes. Finally a bit of brightness appeared! Another hundred yards or so a light was glowing from around a turn to the left. Perhaps this light would shed some light on this long walk to who knows where. We finally reach the corner, turn left, and there in a large brick walled room with high ceilings, faces hung. Dozens and dozens of faces. Wild works of art covered the walls looking like ornate masks made from found objects. I remember these! I turn to the slightly heavy set balding man at my right, his shoulders are raised as he held his hands out as if to say “What is all This!” and I say to Picasso, “It had to be done”.
Monty Monty
