Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon - Tapa blanda

Críticas

'The prints depict fantastic scenes of erotic masquerades and anthropomorphic animals, sometimes fanciful and sometimes frightening. Published by the Porcupine's Quill, known for its excellent presswork, Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon is beautifully and cleverly designed and printed, with foldout plates of larger etchings, repeated details of the work throughout the book, and a playful approach to typography. Detailed and dense, rich in their blue and sepia tones, the etchings demand a close look; looking is, as the author notes in the introduction, ''a good thing. It needs time and concentration. One can look inwards or outwards. In this book we will look inwards -- at the landscape inside.'' As the evocative title suggests, Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon is about spending time focusing on the disturbing and pleasurable images inside.'

This is an author to whom the great love for aesthetic was given. With every carved stroke, with every splash of chemical, and with every typed word, he describes feeling. He touches with words. He smells with aquatint. He sees with the eye of the needle. He scratches worlds.'

Showcasing thirty-six superbly crafted etchings of erotic, scientific, and surreal fantasies created over a period of several years by Rudolf Kurz, "Looking For Snails On A Sunday Afternoon" is not just a collection of art, but under the skills of publisher Tim Inkster, is an example of the book as art''. This strongly recommended collection of images is accompanied and enhanced by an informative foreword, an imaginative introduction pretending to explain the book's title, three stories, a recipe that simply does not belong in any cookbook, and a short treatise on the time-honored art of etching. While Rudolf Kurz has had annual exhibitions in Toronto over the past several years, "Looking For Snails On A Sunday Afternoon" is what will introduce him and his work to a much broader readership both in Canada and the U.S.'

The prints depict fantastic scenes of erotic masquerades and anthropomorphic animals, sometimes fanciful and sometimes frightening. Published by the Porcupine's Quill, known for its excellent presswork, Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon is beautifully and cleverly designed and printed, with foldout plates of larger etchings, repeated details of the work throughout the book, and a playful approach to typography. Detailed and dense, rich in their blue and sepia tones, the etchings demand a close look; looking is, as the author notes in the introduction, a good thing. It needs time and concentration. One can look inwards or outwards. In this book we will look inwards -- at the landscape inside.'' As the evocative title suggests, Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon is about spending time focusing on the disturbing and pleasurable images inside.'

Described as a book of daydreams, "Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon" takes the reader into the inner world of Rudolf Kurz, a German-born artist who now calls Orangeville, Ontario home. Part picture book, part personal musing, Kurz uses the precise art of etching to create whimsical creatures and mysterious women who inhabit surreal landscapes full of hidden life. Leashed dinosaurs stroll down the sidewalk like giant pets, or become circus performers precariously balanced on the high wire. A gnarled tree trunk is transformed into a strolling mastodon, and a shrunken elephant hitches a ride on a giant snail. ... Kurz trained as a medical doctor before becoming an artist. He has clearly been influenced by the anatomical drawings of Renaissance Europe. His etchings are full of intricate detail, which reveal layer upon layer of hidden reality. Each is worth a second and third look. Beautifully printed on thick, textured paper, "Looking for Snails" is a sensory rather than intellectual experience. It is nice to know that such frivolous delights can still find a publisher.'

'This is an author to whom the great love for aesthetic was given. With every carved stroke, with every splash of chemical, and with every typed word, he describes feeling. He touches with words. He smells with aquatint. He sees with the eye of the needle. He scratches worlds.'

'Showcasing thirty-six superbly crafted etchings of erotic, scientific, and surreal fantasies created over a period of several years by Rudolf Kurz, "Looking For Snails On A Sunday Afternoon" is not just a collection of art, but under the skills of publisher Tim Inkster, is an example of ''the book as art''. This strongly recommended collection of images is accompanied and enhanced by an informative foreword, an imaginative introduction pretending to explain the book's title, three stories, a recipe that simply does not belong in any cookbook, and a short treatise on the time-honored art of etching. While Rudolf Kurz has had annual exhibitions in Toronto over the past several years, "Looking For Snails On A Sunday Afternoon" is what will introduce him and his work to a much broader readership both in Canada and the U.S.'

'Described as a book of daydreams, "Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon" takes the reader into the inner world of Rudolf Kurz, a German-born artist who now calls Orangeville, Ontario home. Part picture book, part personal musing, Kurz uses the precise art of etching to create whimsical creatures and mysterious women who inhabit surreal landscapes full of hidden life. Leashed dinosaurs stroll down the sidewalk like giant pets, or become circus performers precariously balanced on the high wire. A gnarled tree trunk is transformed into a strolling mastodon, and a shrunken elephant hitches a ride on a giant snail. ... Kurz trained as a medical doctor before becoming an artist. He has clearly been influenced by the anatomical drawings of Renaissance Europe. His etchings are full of intricate detail, which reveal layer upon layer of hidden reality. Each is worth a second and third look. Beautifully printed on thick, textured paper, "Looking for Snails" is a sensory rather than intellectual experience. It is nice to know that such frivolous delights can still find a publisher.'

The prints depict fantastic scenes of erotic masquerades and anthropomorphic animals, sometimes fanciful and sometimes frightening. Published by the Porcupine's Quill, known for its excellent presswork, "Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon" is beautifully and cleverly designed and printed, with foldout plates of larger etchings, repeated details of the work throughout the book, and a playful approach to typography. Detailed and dense, rich in their blue and sepia tones, the etchings demand a close look; looking is, as the author notes in the introduction, a good thing. It needs time and concentration. One can look inwards or outwards. In this book we will look inwards -- at the landscape inside.'' As the evocative title suggests, "Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon" is about spending time focusing on the disturbing and pleasurable images inside.'--Allison Sivak "Canadian Book Review Annual "

Described as a book of daydreams, "Looking for Snails on a Sunday Afternoon" takes the reader into the inner world of Rudolf Kurz, a German-born artist who now calls Orangeville, Ontario home. Part picture book, part personal musing, Kurz uses the precise art of etching to create whimsical creatures and mysterious women who inhabit surreal landscapes full of hidden life. Leashed dinosaurs stroll down the sidewalk like giant pets, or become circus performers precariously balanced on the high wire. A gnarled tree trunk is transformed into a strolling mastodon, and a shrunken elephant hitches a ride on a giant snail. ... Kurz trained as a medical doctor before becoming an artist. He has clearly been influenced by the anatomical drawings of Renaissance Europe. His etchings are full of intricate detail, which reveal layer upon layer of hidden reality. Each is worth a second and third look. Beautifully printed on thick, textured paper, "Looking for Snails" is a sensory rather than intellectual experience. It is nice to know that such frivolous delights can still find a publisher.'--Nicole Lairdner "scenemagazine "

Reseña del editor

Edward Gorey and Max Ernst meet Dinotopia in Wonderland.