#Ieva Baklane
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paintings of houses i want to live in
lucy culliton good room dresser \\ mary cinque paradise house in bath \\ paul kauzmann potted plants on a windowsill \\ carole rabe forest view \\ robbie bushe avocado bathroom (glenburne) \\ ieva baklane spring afternoon \\ yuanyuan liu in the kitchen \\ anthony john plowden eyton a kitchen range \\ wassily kandinsky interior (my dining room) \\ henri matisse the pink studio
buy me a chai latte
#art compilation#mine#lucy culliton#carole rabe#ieva baklane#robbie bushe#mary cinque#paul kauzmann#yuanyuan liu#anthony john plowden eyton#kandinsky#wassily kandinsky#henri matisse
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Water.Pacific Photography by Ieva Baklane | Saatchi Art
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"Kızlar" derdi onlara, geceleyin saçlarınızı taramayın, yoksa denize açılanlar geri dönmekte gecikirler.
Gabrıel Garcia Marquez, Kırmızı Pazartesi
"Water"
By Ieva Baklane
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#LookFurther | Ieva Baklane - Pool & Two Yellow Chairs.
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The artist that inspired me this time is Ieva Baklane. Ieva was born in an artist’s family in 1974 in Riga, Latvia. She got her BFA(1996) and MFA(2001) degrees from the Art Academy of Latvia. She immigrated to Canada in 2002, and now lives in Vancouver with her husband and two children. She’s been influenced by the precise architectural shapes because she wanted to become an architect when she was younger, and by the warmth and sunlight of the southern countries - because summers in Latvia are usually short and rainy.
Her work inspired me to slightly change the objectives of my work to something bright, colorful and happy, something that reminds me of the summer we probably won’t have this year. Her work also reminds me a lot of David Hockney’s California landscapes. The colors are unrealistically vivid and saturated, but the subject matter resembles real houses - this mix of realistic and traditional with abstract appeals to me a lot, because such approach helps to adjust the most traditional painting style to the contemporary art culture.
- Yuliya
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By Ieva Baklane
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Ocean Visions
AIeva BaklaneThe last time I saw, I saw the ocean. Why the ocean? I asked myself that very question. Is it because of its vastness, openness, and greatness? Or is it just because I like clownfish and colourful coral reefs? Is it because I enjoy its many uses as a metaphoric force in literary devices? Or is it just because of my fascination with ocean tectonics and the origin of life. Either way, that was the view the last time I saw. It was an ocean. A greyish pool of water, that stretched beyond the horizon. Does this symbolize sorrow? A hint of farewell? What if it were to be blue? Under clear skies, over a hot and warm beach, seagulls flying about in the sky, occasionally mischievously stealing vacationer's breadcrumbs. Children running around in the sand, couples lying together under an umbrella, families barbecuing in the shades, smoke rising in the air, passerbys obviously trying to avoid. And you can see a dolphin, leaping out of the shining crystal like water, with a rainbow beach ball on its nose…? Wait, that would be the circus. Oh well, you get the point, if it was that it’ll be a more jolly scene that brings warmth and satisfaction to people’s imagination, though a luxury to most, with media and entertainment constantly pushing this same old happy sunny beach scene, I guess it won’t be hard to imagine to most. Why did I last see the ocean’s surface? Why not under the sea? Swimming through the coral reefs, chasing black and white angelfish around, into tall and thigh kelp, looking above, a shadow of a fishing boat, slowly lowering its anchor to the depths of the sea. I would try to swim away, to avoid getting hit, but I only swim deeper and deeper into the murky waters, until I see light. Not life-saving light, or that lightbulb that does not appear over people’s heads when they get an idea, but a chilling light, of horrid and beauty. Jellyfish. Yes, jellyfish. Hordes of jellyfish, under the dark waters of the ocean, floating towards me, that would eventually ensure me a slow and painful death of poison and stunning. Oh, when did this become a horror story? Maybe I do have thalassophobia? Fear of oceans, and things within it. Jellyfish, sharks, leviathans, undead pirates… Speaking of undead pirates, writers love the ocean. Stories and tales of heart racing adventures of the brave captain and his crew, fighting undead pirates and sea monsters, seeking but never taking the golden loot from ancient times. Then poets, screenwriters calling “Oh Captain, My Captain! Iceberg straight ahead! We need a bigger ship!” Well, let’s settle down a bit. Back to the ocean I last saw. The ocean I last saw wasn’t any of those. It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t lively, it wasn’t full of adventure. It was gloomy, grey, and unnerving. Was there anything underwater? Probably not, nothing in the skies but rainy clouds. What does it mean? What does it symbolize? It doesn’t matter, no one would care. Just grey water. Grey, grey water.
Photos by Ieva Baklane and Angie Moon
Ieva Baklane
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