#Eduard is the one in the back and he's a mystic

[littleouroboros]

???tober Day 2: Horseman

[art-now-usa]

Ginger angel., Z E D

Ginger angel, oil, canvas, 70×70, 2012, Painting on canvas, canvas on stretcher, stretcher thickness of 2.5 cm, sides painted, can be exposed without a frame. EDUARD ZENTSIK Paintings Eduard Zentsik is an exceptionally prolific Estonian-based artist of many faces. One might call him a greedy painter, as he is traveling quite a few creative lanes simultaneously, refusing to stick to a single signature style, technique, or theme; instead, Zentsik keeps confusing critics and audiences alike by choosing to explore all available options, exercise all styles, play diverse and almost conflicting roles. Some of Zentsik’s endeavors, like the mildly macabre art brut series, focus on physical metamorphoses and flourishes of the flesh; others zoom in on the mysteries of the mind; elsewhere, the artist indulges in formless Pollockian color drippings or flirts with digital media. Hope for Love, his latest solo show, accentuates the spiritual aspects in Zentsik’s enormous oeuvre. Tied together with recurring themes and symbols, the collection presents 37 allegorical paintings made in the surrealistic canon. Hope for Love captures a distinctly magical reality populated by gracious entities and precious objects. The scenes are static and peaceful, shrouded in dark ambience created by the palette of caramel and caked blood harking back to Renaissance masterpieces; the saccharine decor would be perhaps quite familiar to Vienna crowds. The entire universe of the series is feminine and deeply erotic, with no male figures to be seen. Flowers and jewels, birds and eggs, pups and bunnies—the inventory borders banal, but the images stand for something else, promising to unfold hidden meanings and clues. Indeed, Hope for Love is highly symbolic. Zentsik’s paintings are trim and disciplined, low on noise; however, within the frame resides an open-ended space, where almost any artifact or concept, from any era or culture, may appear with a certain albeit enigmatic purpose. No mythology or esoteric teaching is immune to the artist’s tactful manipulations—Zen in Zentsik goes hand in hand with Tao, Krishna, Christ, and the Twelve Olympians. The eclectic mystical trappings seem to glorify life, with translucent eggs, lavish grains of red caviar, and lustful petals among the major motifs, while objects within objects apparently signify the fractal structure of the universe. In Hope for Love, Zentsik confirms his reputation as an artist who mixes genres and media, playfully subverting the traditions of old. He deconstructs (and reinvents) the genre of landscape by placing images of nature inside female characters and random objects or projecting them onto virtual surfaces. His portrait of a haloed crinoline-clad cat of six eyes is a genial yet ironic comment on icon painting. As an appropriately mystical reference, more than a few times the compositions of artworks bring to mind Tarot cards where depicted occult characters peer into our reality from esoteric domains. However, Zentsik’s main daring lies in using self-aware decorative strategies and deceptively simple tropes to convey his big ideas—some will find his work pretentious. This is not an intellectual game, though. Those willing to unlock the code are likely (and welcome) to reveal metaphysical depths. Hope for Love is a visual poem to the great God of Beauty Zentsik has worshipped in earnest for a long time. Behind the images, there is a powerful coherent cosmology explaining the underlying natural order, the ulterior essence of everything. This is true spiritual art with a transcendental message, ostensibly co-created and inhabited by the spirit of the Creation itself (all artworks have always existed, you know). Zentsik’s mission is to cut open two-way windows between our world and the fantastical realm through which mystical figures and phenomena on the other side meet our gaze. Could they be the proverbial Platonic ideas represented on canvas in vaguely familiar forms? Hope for Love, therefore, is a slightly misleading title. Eduard Zentsik is not questioning the existence of Love—he knows it already exists. Everything to hope for already exists. Snap your fingers, wink, whisper a wish. Let yourself believe in the eternal, never-ending beauty, and let Hope be your guide to the whole world of love.

https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Ginger-angel/733440/2767180/view

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 125 - 121

125. Homens da Luta - “A luta è alegria” Portugal 2011

Lol the booing. GET OVER YOURSELVES, this is a great entry and you WILL deal with it!  🤗

“A luta è alegria” is first and foremost a joyful throwback to 70s Portugal, where each of their entries was a passive-aggressive anti-Salazar protest song, a topic which maintains its relevance in an age where Trump, Duterte, Bolsonaro and Erdogan (and let’s face it, Boris Johnson) are hotshot leaders. Bathed in saudade and accordeon noises, it cheerfully “celebrates” social oppression by pointing out the joys of the struggles at hand.  AUX ARMES, CITOYENS, FORMEZ VOS BATAILLONS!!! 

Of course the combination of the political undercurrent + the framing as A Joke Act made “A luta è alegria” a HUGE thorn in the side of the Eurovision Elitists: “EWW IT DOESN’T TAKE EUROVISION SERIOUSLY, BAD SONG, HORRIBLE ATTITUDE DIE DIE DIE”. Of course, this is the group that never judges beyond the skin deep and gets to see that the song is a valiant call to arms with positive uplifting lyrics! Some people do NOT want a better Eurovision to live in!  🙄

Let us therefore oppose the musical oppression by the elitists by throwing a picket and blasting this underrated song non-stop until hijacked by its catchy lusophone melody. 🤗   Traz o pão 🍞, traz o queijo 🧀,  traz o vinho 🍷 / Vem o velho 👴👵, vem o novo 👨👩 e o meninoooooooo 🧑👧

________________________________________________________________

124. Eduard Romanyuta - “I want your love” Moldova 2015

One of the best all-time openers, right? WHAT A AMAZING, SHAMELESS TRAINWRECK. The best decision Ukraine made in 2015 WAS withdrawing so Eduard could try out for Moldova instead, hijacking us with this ceaseless shitstorm of tastelessness: Disarmingly inept, “I want your love” elevates the term “slutpop” into an art, giving us tonnes of gratuituous sexuality framed in a 90s Boyband package.  BACKSTREET’S BACK, ALRIGHT~

As you know, I’m NOT into female objectification (being gay and a equalist), but here it actually improves the act. Eduard is the world’s least convincing fukboi, sauntering around like an absent-minded golden retriever 😍, engaging in fake MMA duels with the male “cops” (who, might I add, are dressed like hen party strippers. 😍 Moldova being so poor they can’t afford actual police costumes <3), helplessly bleating “I waaant your laaaaaav” throughout. It all feels like a 90s romcom, like Beethoven meets American Pie meets Police Academy IV. LOVE.

________________________________________________________________

123. EQUINOX - “Bones” Bulgaria 2018

[2018 Review here]

What a crock of shit <3

Enter EQUINOX, a “supergroup” consisting of four gay men and a morlock, assembled specifically to bankrupt Bulgaria Win Eurovision. Of course, my appreciation of EQUINOX is almost entirely ironic but jesus fuck I LOVE this desperate attempt for its incompetence. Getting a black gay guy to sing “LOVE IS LIKE A BLACK HOLE, EVERYTHING IS DARK” as your first line, in front of millions of people 😍 😍 😍  EQUINOX are utter quacks and it was blatantly obvious from second one. Paraphrasing: 

Trey: “It’s about love ~BEYOND THE BONES~”  Wiwi: “yes but what is love ‘beyond the bones’”? Trey: “It’s.... undiscribable love, like, what you you want it to be 👀” 

UTTER HOGWASH <3 So is it any surprise that Equinox’s veneer of ~mystical artistry~ *and* winner odds got to writhe into dust of the universe and way into unknown, the second "Bones” hit the stage? 😍 The live was a living, breathing disaster, further accelerated by an acute case of Sabotage Baptiste: Roll that tape:

Einstein was mistaken, because this goddess does play dice, and the dice are loaded.

Ultimately, EQUINOX are sort of a Houdek deal for me. “Bones” is an utter joke, and everyone is in on it, except for the Bulgarian production team and as long as I can just point and laugh at their expense, I’ll continue cherishing it. Bulgaria bankrupted themselves for a meek 14th place lmfao <3 However, unlike Houdek, EQUINOX aren’t awful people, so I rank them much, much higher 😈

________________________________________________________________

122. Eva Rivas - “Apricot stone” Armenia 2010

A PRICK-CUT STONE HIDDEN IN MY HEAAAD. 

For the sake of variety, let me throw in a song that is genuinely good, as opposed to a stannable trashfest. 

You know by now that I LOVE when countries display their ~cultural essense~ and this song blatantly displays Armenia’s.  Gorgeous charismatic woman? Check. Ethnic goat flute? Check! References to agricultural traditions? Check. excessive staging? Check! References to the ethnic cleansing? Double-Check!

It really just is a joy to see Eva regaling tales from her childhood, bobbing around stage displaying her raven rapunzel locks, brandishing a locket in her clenched first, as the giant apricot stone behind her blossoms into a tree. It may not be the most ~mindblowing~ Armenian entry, but it’s nevertheless a doll. 

________________________________________________________________

121. Roberto Bellarosa - “Love kills” Belgium 2013

WETING FŒR DA BEETER PEEL

That face.

That Victory Dance.

Those... dancers? 

I am not even sure how Robertoad managed to become such a hot commodity in Malmö, because I actually HATED “Lav keels” at first: I thought it was embarrassing, cheesy and stupid. Which is of course why I love it now, but at the time, nobody in Belgium believed in it. Not even Roberto’s backing singers. I visited to the male backing’s personal website during rehearsals and saw that he was booked to perform at ~retirement homes~ ON THE DAY OF THE FINALE LMFAO <3 The Semifinal itself was written down as “private project” <3 😍

So imagine my bewilderment when this fuckin’ song received points from 5 of the first 6 countries in the tally (INCLUDING A TWELVE!), and permanently hunkered down on the lefthandside of the scoreboard. And then, like a rolling stone it hit me BOOM BOOM BOOM that this bizarre amagamation of FRENGLISH

+ THOSE DANCERS (seriously, some of the best dancers ever?)

+ ALWAYS CARRYING WITH HIM A WEE STUFFED BUNNY

+ The fact that *Roberto*, in a year featuring Farid Mamadov, Koza Mostra and Gianluca, was the male act the fangirls imprinted on (the rumors of busloads of fangirls camping outside of Roberto’s hotel, clutching his picture.😍)

All of those things made Robertoad disarmingly inept and deserving of nothing but the most unironic love. RIP sweet goblin prince. 

[alexissleeps]

Stalker Film Analysis

“I can make good work based only on three things -- blood, culture, and history”        

                                                  - Tarkovsky

Bringing the audience into an alternate Russian reality, Andrei Tarkovsky, the “Poet of Apocalypse,” constructs a masterful and existential Sci-Fi world in his 1979 film Stalker (Quandt). At the start of Stalker, through a fictitious government letter, we learn of a realm called the Zone. The letter considers how it came about -- was it a meteorite? Aliens? Nevertheless, when troops were sent, they never returned. To protect the masses, the government secured the area with barbed wire, dense tunnels, and security officers. We learn of this place, then we learn of the Stalker.

A desolate, decrepit apartment. The film is a bold, impossible sepia. We hear nothing but the rumbles and rattles of a train, slowly crescendoing as it approaches the home. In bed is a family: man, wife, and child. On the bedside table rests an apple with two bites missing, tablets of morphine, a syringe in a tin, cotton, and a glass of water. This is the home of the Stalker. Aside from the train, the only noise we can hear is the Stalker getting out of bed. He is preparing for another trip to the Zone--the trade of a Stalker. He readies himself to meet the men whom he will be shepherding through the Zone, so that they may find the Room, the place where one’s deepest desires are fulfilled.

In that striking sepia, we become acquainted with the Writer. A man full of philosophies. In an unknown irony, he laments about the lack of mysticism in the world and the death of excitement. “The world is ruled by cast-iron laws,” he claims, a possible allusion to the Soviet regime which regulates Tarkovsky’s work with resolute vigor. When he speaks, all other ambient sound stops. We are forced to focus on his words, his insights, or lack thereof.  

Shortly after, viewers are brought to a bar, which, much like the Stalker’s apartment, is in disrepair. Everything is covered in a layer of dirt, puddles dot the floors from roof leaks, and the minimal lighting flickers. Here we meet the Professor. The audience learns he seeks scientific discovery, as the Writer seeks inspiration. They name their desires, they assume the stakes. But, in this contemplation, we learn a central theme of the film. The Writer says, stumbling over himself in drunkenness, “...but, how is it I can put a name to… What it is I want? How am I to know?” This admission is pivotal to the film’s message, and Tarkovsky is kind enough to give us this hint before the journey into the Zone unfolds.

On brand-new Kodak 5247 stock film, Tarkovsky fills the screen with symmetrical shots, a style ubiquitous throughout the film. He plays with the depth of field by placing mundane objects, such as a wooden beam, in the foreground to pull the viewer’s eye to the background. These shots set the scene, they tell parts of the story without saying a thing.

The three--the Stalker, the Writer, and the Professor, all referenced only by their professions, a possible communist allusion--embark on their journey to the Zone. Rumbling through sparse, mud filled streets in an all-terrain vehicle, they venture through abandoned buildings and railways. The City they are leaving is incredibly industrial: tight brick-lined corridors constricting the viewer, smog billowing in every direction, further suffocating you. Not a single vestige of vegetation in sight. The sound of stepping through puddles is as loud as the police officer’s engine they are trying to avoid. Sonically, the film is mastered at a consistent level. These staccato, pointed sounds add tension to the film and control the direction of the viewer’s attention, building with the visuals to the moment when the men finally reach the Zone.

After a series of long takes of the men’s faces, typical of Tarkovsky’s style, they arrive. We are greeted with a moment of silence, and color film, as we see the Zone for the first time. The color shows the full glory of the Zone and juxtaposes it to the sepia City. The Zone is a vast, natural landscape. With trees and grasses overtaking what remnants of civilization are left, abandoned cars sulking in their lonesomeness, and power lines, which have given way to the earth, linger in the front of the frame. A clear ecological statement. The Zone, arguably the central character of the film, slowly reveals itself to the Writer, the Professor, and the audience throughout the second half of the film.

Long takes paired with wide landscape views of the Zone envelope the viewers, taking them along for the journey. The scenes are truly immersive. To compound this emotion, the combination of synthetic and orchestral composition by Eduard Artmyev is subtle, and easier to feel rather than to hear. It hovers over the scene, or sinks beneath it, delicately shaping the mood. In an interview Tarkovsky revealed that “one mustn’t be aware of music, nor natural sounds.” Those natural sounds, such as wheels on rails, are synthetically produced and embedded within Western and Eastern inspired melodies, melting otherworldly tones with earthly ones. The music is sparse but effective.

It is impossible to travel directly to the Room. The Zone, echoing non-entry nuclear zones of Cold War Soviet Russia, demands respect. “The Zone is a very complex maze of traps. All of them death traps,” the Stalker warns his sheep. It is always in flux, and pathways which were once safe become impassable. The Stalker, looking to the heavens, says, “it’s as if we construct it according to our state of mind.” It lets through neither the good, nor the bad, but rather those who are hopeless. The truly desperate souls. In certain places, the land swells like waves, and in others it smokes and smolders. It bends time and space. It challenges the notion that there is no mysticism left in the world, it challenges those “cast-iron laws” that the world is fixed.

However, the Zone, and these men’s journey to the Room, reveal the existential truths we bury in ourselves. “For who knows what desires a person might have?” the Professor sighs. Why is the Room just a rumor? Is it a gift or a message or a curse to mankind? Is it secured by the government, not to protect people from death, but to protect them from what they want? From what their desires may do to society? The Soviet Union, “with its propaganda and party indoctrination sessions – went on beyond an imaginary fence,”  building real fences within its citizenries mind (Guardian). The Zone is a space of personal truth, a space the government can’t penetrate, deep within the Russian psyche. Within the Zone, each of the men is granted a monologue where he can exalt his truths and speak candidly without fear. For fear is the Zone, and within it they have nothing more to fear, not even themselves. This is a space where they can discover what is potentially the most elusive of truths: What do I want?

Stalker offers a cross-section of consciousness. The city is these dull, dogmatic “truths” we tell ourselves to get through the day--particularly those true in communist Russia. God isn’t real. Neither are ghosts. Everything is fixed, and tangible if real. Everything has order and, despite the boredom of it, safety. The city is the superficiality of our own existence. The sepia might be beautiful, but is incomplete: it doesn’t reveal the full-depth and complexity of the world, or the self. However, the Zone challenges these preconceived notions, these walls we build within ourselves. Or, that government and society helps construct. For example, the Writer, overcome in a moment of honesty in the Zone, says he writes because he is unsure. He writes to prove his worth to himself and to others. He doesn’t write because he thinks he is a genius, as he earlier dotes, for if he did there would be no reason to write. The Zone forces us to face ourselves, quite literally, by constructing a world based on the minds of those within it. The Stalker mutters, half-asleep, “people don’t like to reveal their innermost thoughts.” The Zone is where those thoughts foment, without restriction, to the front of the mind.

The Stalker tells us in the Zone of his mentor, Porcupine--or as he knew him, the Teacher. He taught the Stalker everything about the Zone: how to travel through it, how to respect it. How to get out of it. Then, one day, Porcupine went into the Room. Shortly after he returned to the City he became very wealthy, wealthy beyond his wildest dreams. Then he hanged himself.

If the Room is the center of the self, the deepest desires of the self, perhaps it is best left inaccessible. Desire is dangerous; its consequences unpredictable. While the death of Porcupine is a critique of humanity’s materialism, and materialism’s inability to truly satiate humanity’s existential needs, I think this film offers a criticism of (selfish) desire more broadly. The Stalker’s desire is not to enter the Room, but to escape his existence. His pleading wife, his daughter crippled by his excursions. Their shabby home. Before the Stalker leaves for the Zone, his wife warns he may find himself back in prison, he replies that “everywhere’s a prison.” He doesn’t need to enter the Room, the Zone is all he desires, it is wild and free, while the City is captivity. 

Additionally, Tarkovsky seems to be pointing at the elusive nature of desire. It’s claimed the Room knows your deepest desires, even those you hide from yourself, and then fulfills them. But, as Zizek claims, “our desires are artificial. We have to be taught to desire. Cinema is the ultimate pervert art. It doesn’t give you what you desire, it tells you how to desire.” If we acquire our desires socially, is there any desire which is independent, belonging to the self completely? Can the Room honestly fulfill someone’s deepest desires, if those desires are by nature inauthentic? Is this why Porcupine commits suicide? The ultimate horror is not the desire, it is not the longing: it is the fulfillment of that longing. Perhaps we ultimately fear fulfillment of desire because it is alien, it is a self-deception -- we don't really want it. Thus, true desire seems to move further from our understanding. Maybe it isn’t that desire is best left inaccessible, but that the Room is an illusion, and desire beyond the superficial is still inaccessible. 

The dynamic nature of the Zone, their journey which challenges the time-space continuum, is an allegory for the cyclical, impossible, and inexplicable journey to discovering one’s authentic personal desires. And, ultimately, its innate inaccessibility and potential untruth. 

This film catalogues, with visual and auditory brilliance, an existential woe of humanity. Stalker is a philosophical text with a three-hour visualizer and sound effects. While Tarkovsky was inspired by the psychological effects of living under the Soviet regime, and the film speaks to that reality, this film is durable regardless of time, politics, or country. Undeniably versatile, it can be enjoyed as a piece of entertainment, a piece of art, and a piece of commentary. If you’re looking to lose yourself, your conscious self, in a film, and find your unconscious self, Tarkovsky’s Stalker will siphon you into that Zone.

https://www.tiff.net/the-review/andrei-tarkovsky-the-poet-of-apocalypse/

https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/1468-5922.12365

Gianvito, John (2006), Andrei Tarkovsky: Interviews, University Press of Mississippi, pp. 50–54,

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2017/nov/06/soviet-union-kitchen-table-russian-revolution-centenary-togetherness

http://www.tasteofcinema.com/2017/the-25-best-mind-bending-movies-of-all-time/2/

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0079944/

[avaliveradio]

Indigo FM's New Release 'Anhedonia' searches for meaning in everyday life

Evoking the feelings of determination, a shimmering coolness paired with the occasional break through of restrained emotion is what we love most about Indigo FM's Newest single, 'Anhedonia'.

“We wanted to write about the search for meaning in everyday life and how sometimes you can feel powerless to control your surroundings.”

“Take control surrendering, Try and make the most of it, maybe we’re all suffering from Anhedonia.”

Artist: Indigo FM

New Release: Anhedonia

Genre: Indie Rock, Alternative Rock

Sounds like: Muse, Arctic Monkeys, The Strokes

Located in: Los Angeles

We’re Indigo FM (LA-based Indie/alternative rock band) back with our 4th single this year, “Anhedonia”. Anhedonia is a song about the search for meaning amidst the chaos of modern everyday life. The song's vibe is steeped in 2000’s indie rock much like the music of Arctic Monkeys, Muse, and the Black Keys. 

By bringing style, unpredictability, and witty songwriting back to alternative/indie rock, Indigo FM hopes to become an ever-growing presence within their genre.  The Los Angeles band has an unconventional yet catchy sound inspired by previous giants of the alternative/indie rock scene such as The Strokes, Weezer, the Killers, and Muse.

Even with rich nostalgic influences intermingled among their sound, Indigo FM manages to create a fresh, unique set of images. With several successful singles already under their belt: "Us against the world", "Waldo" and "Houston" one can already see Indigo FM's constant visual and sonic evolution. 

They are never content to do the same thing twice, and with an exciting non-conformist streak, their sound is somehow still instantly recognizable. 

The quartet: - Esteban Obando (lead vocals/guitar/keys) Connor Sullivan (Guitars/keys/bg vocals) Patrick Taylor (Bass) Johannes Gritschacher (Drums) - are currently in the process of wrapping up production of their batch of singles all of which are slated for release in 2021.

About the Band..

Esteban Obando is a singer/songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, and producer born in Colombia. He grew up in Montreal, Canada, and later relocated to Los Angeles, where he currently resides. Indigo FM aside, Esteban works as a session musician, songwriter, and producer with several artists. In his spare time, he likes to hike and read history books.

Johannes Gritschacher is a drummer and producer from Austria.  In 2012, he was an active member of the US music scene first in Boston and later in LA . Johannes has been active as a touring musician (Olivia O'Brien, Ryan Beatty) and as a producer (Hopkins).

Connor Sullivan is a guitarist and singer/songwriter born in Northern California. He relocated to Los Angeles to attend the Los Angeles College of Music. Since graduation, he has gone on to perform with the likes of Olivia O'Brien, Noah Cyrus and Liz Phair to name a few.

Patrick Taylor is a bassist, composer and producer from Los Angeles.  Indigo FM aside, Patrick has played on a regional and global level as a touring bassist (Nick Jonas, American Idol Live, Skylar Grey) while writing and producing his own music and various projects. In addition, he likes to play tennis in his spare time.

LINKS:  https://open.spotify.com/track/4bcl3e6VxYRDUJTteX8368?si=c411f9ab735e49f6 https://www.instagram.com/indigofm https://twitter.com/indigoFMband https://www.facebook.com/IndigoFMband

Featured on these playlists

🔥Release Radar New Music Playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2JOBcgSYgGmV2g27N1CUXx?si=PQFpAPUbQ0m4ByZEbtBtLg

🔥JAX DAILY Morning Coffee Playlist:

  https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7pEY8BiSj6sLLSHAoOo9k0?si=IrwIjmHVRN2vswRyw_P6gA

🔥Top 20 Indie Rock Playlist : 

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1GQ3ByTMykOVzgzJVLXQ79?si=71a3ec01be1c4017

🔥SUMMER SINGLES Fresh Indie Music Finds https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7oQCpI2xEN2RaGWLcRGQJX?si=o93Tf3RwSH2HLg4B57qAVw

🔥Road Trip Best Indie Folk 2020 Music Playlist - Indie / Pop / Folk / Rock https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1PLd9drToDxT0rUcGWGpZ9?si=FvfbaXtcQ1-HJyHf3h59oA

🔥Retro Rock Vibes on The Rise https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3J1nglWkgQxAkj279XXq4P?si=5DFOC7PFSW6iYXq8Mk95kQ

🔥Alternative Indie Rock Bands New music just added.. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4nisWqxN8CJ7y4vYhBF5Ux?si=_njgtAYPS6OuFAZ4vgn0qg

Reviews:

Jacqueline Jax Host of AvA Live Radio

I love the music Indigo FM is putting out. Although “Houston” is one of my favorite tracks from them, their newest single ‘Anhedonia' holds elements of mystical charm that I can’t resist posting to replay. That’s why I placed this one on my Weekly Curators Picks.

Eduard Banulescu of Alt77 wrote: " I really love the feel of this music. Congrats on the release. Very cool indeed. "

Indie Music Spin wrote:

“Spectacular sound and memorable band. I can’t wait to feature this new single on our site for our listeners.”

*Feature coming up 6.11: New Single 'Anhedonia' from Alternative Rock Band Indigo FM has a mystical charm

Tongue Tied Magazine wrote a review: 

Great track with some interesting influences. I’ll be keeping my eye on your progress..

American Pride Magazine wrote:

“A great all American band of today reflecting a melodic vibe with some British elements that are reminiscent of a time in music that was fast growing and very popular. “

LexiePritchard of Glasse Factory wrote: 

"The song is enjoyable and interesting. I like the intro as it drops back to reveal the vocals. His vocals are cool and mysterious. Definitely the sound of something special. " 

Social:

https://www.facebook.com/jacquelinejax/posts/10225912032337131

https://www.facebook.com/AvaLiveRadio/posts/3990898431026323

[art-now-usa]

Two Worlds, Z E D

Two Worlds, oil, canvas, 70×70, 2013, Painting on canvas, canvas on stretcher, stretcher thickness of 2.5 cm, sides painted, can be exposed without a frame. EDUARD ZENTSIK Paintings Eduard Zentsik is an exceptionally prolific Estonian-based artist of many faces. One might call him a greedy painter, as he is traveling quite a few creative lanes simultaneously, refusing to stick to a single signature style, technique, or theme; instead, Zentsik keeps confusing critics and audiences alike by choosing to explore all available options, exercise all styles, play diverse and almost conflicting roles. Some of Zentsik’s endeavors, like the mildly macabre art brut series, focus on physical metamorphoses and flourishes of the flesh; others zoom in on the mysteries of the mind; elsewhere, the artist indulges in formless Pollockian color drippings or flirts with digital media. Hope for Love, his latest solo show, accentuates the spiritual aspects in Zentsik’s enormous oeuvre. Tied together with recurring themes and symbols, the collection presents 37 allegorical paintings made in the surrealistic canon. Hope for Love captures a distinctly magical reality populated by gracious entities and precious objects. The scenes are static and peaceful, shrouded in dark ambience created by the palette of caramel and caked blood harking back to Renaissance masterpieces; the saccharine decor would be perhaps quite familiar to Vienna crowds. The entire universe of the series is feminine and deeply erotic, with no male figures to be seen. Flowers and jewels, birds and eggs, pups and bunnies—the inventory borders banal, but the images stand for something else, promising to unfold hidden meanings and clues. Indeed, Hope for Love is highly symbolic. Zentsik’s paintings are trim and disciplined, low on noise; however, within the frame resides an open-ended space, where almost any artifact or concept, from any era or culture, may appear with a certain albeit enigmatic purpose. No mythology or esoteric teaching is immune to the artist’s tactful manipulations—Zen in Zentsik goes hand in hand with Tao, Krishna, Christ, and the Twelve Olympians. The eclectic mystical trappings seem to glorify life, with translucent eggs, lavish grains of red caviar, and lustful petals among the major motifs, while objects within objects apparently signify the fractal structure of the universe. In Hope for Love, Zentsik confirms his reputation as an artist who mixes genres and media, playfully subverting the traditions of old. He deconstructs (and reinvents) the genre of landscape by placing images of nature inside female characters and random objects or projecting them onto virtual surfaces. His portrait of a haloed crinoline-clad cat of six eyes is a genial yet ironic comment on icon painting. As an appropriately mystical reference, more than a few times the compositions of artworks bring to mind Tarot cards where depicted occult characters peer into our reality from esoteric domains. However, Zentsik’s main daring lies in using self-aware decorative strategies and deceptively simple tropes to convey his big ideas—some will find his work pretentious. This is not an intellectual game, though. Those willing to unlock the code are likely (and welcome) to reveal metaphysical depths. Hope for Love is a visual poem to the great God of Beauty Zentsik has worshipped in earnest for a long time. Behind the images, there is a powerful coherent cosmology explaining the underlying natural order, the ulterior essence of everything. This is true spiritual art with a transcendental message, ostensibly co-created and inhabited by the spirit of the Creation itself (all artworks have always existed, you know). Zentsik’s mission is to cut open two-way windows between our world and the fantastical realm through which mystical figures and phenomena on the other side meet our gaze. Could they be the proverbial Platonic ideas represented on canvas in vaguely familiar forms? Hope for Love, therefore, is a slightly misleading title. Eduard Zentsik is not questioning the existence of Love—he knows it already exists. Everything to hope for already exists. Snap your fingers, wink, whisper a wish. Let yourself believe in the eternal, never-ending beauty, and let Hope be your guide to the whole world of love.

https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-Two-Worlds/733440/2174804/view

[art-now-usa]

She is like cat., Z E D

She is like cat, oil, canvas, 70×70, 2013 EDUARD ZENTSIK Paintings Eduard Zentsik is an exceptionally prolific Estonian-based artist of many faces. One might call him a greedy painter, as he is traveling quite a few creative lanes simultaneously, refusing to stick to a single signature style, technique, or theme; instead, Zentsik keeps confusing critics and audiences alike by choosing to explore all available options, exercise all styles, play diverse and almost conflicting roles. Some of Zentsik’s endeavors, like the mildly macabre art brut series, focus on physical metamorphoses and flourishes of the flesh; others zoom in on the mysteries of the mind; elsewhere, the artist indulges in formless Pollockian color drippings or flirts with digital media. Hope for Love, his latest solo show, accentuates the spiritual aspects in Zentsik’s enormous oeuvre. Tied together with recurring themes and symbols, the collection presents 37 allegorical paintings made in the surrealistic canon. Hope for Love captures a distinctly magical reality populated by gracious entities and precious objects. The scenes are static and peaceful, shrouded in dark ambience created by the palette of caramel and caked blood harking back to Renaissance masterpieces; the saccharine decor would be perhaps quite familiar to Vienna crowds. The entire universe of the series is feminine and deeply erotic, with no male figures to be seen. Flowers and jewels, birds and eggs, pups and bunnies—the inventory borders banal, but the images stand for something else, promising to unfold hidden meanings and clues. Indeed, Hope for Love is highly symbolic. Zentsik’s paintings are trim and disciplined, low on noise; however, within the frame resides an open-ended space, where almost any artifact or concept, from any era or culture, may appear with a certain albeit enigmatic purpose. No mythology or esoteric teaching is immune to the artist’s tactful manipulations—Zen in Zentsik goes hand in hand with Tao, Krishna, Christ, and the Twelve Olympians. The eclectic mystical trappings seem to glorify life, with translucent eggs, lavish grains of red caviar, and lustful petals among the major motifs, while objects within objects apparently signify the fractal structure of the universe. In Hope for Love, Zentsik confirms his reputation as an artist who mixes genres and media, playfully subverting the traditions of old. He deconstructs (and reinvents) the genre of landscape by placing images of nature inside female characters and random objects or projecting them onto virtual surfaces. His portrait of a haloed crinoline-clad cat of six eyes is a genial yet ironic comment on icon painting. As an appropriately mystical reference, more than a few times the compositions of artworks bring to mind Tarot cards where depicted occult characters peer into our reality from esoteric domains. However, Zentsik’s main daring lies in using self-aware decorative strategies and deceptively simple tropes to convey his big ideas—some will find his work pretentious. This is not an intellectual game, though. Those willing to unlock the code are likely (and welcome) to reveal metaphysical depths. Hope for Love is a visual poem to the great God of Beauty Zentsik has worshipped in earnest for a long time. Behind the images, there is a powerful coherent cosmology explaining the underlying natural order, the ulterior essence of everything. This is true spiritual art with a transcendental message, ostensibly co-created and inhabited by the spirit of the Creation itself (all artworks have always existed, you know). Zentsik’s mission is to cut open two-way windows between our world and the fantastical realm through which mystical figures and phenomena on the other side meet our gaze. Could they be the proverbial Platonic ideas represented on canvas in vaguely familiar forms? Hope for Love, therefore, is a slightly misleading title. Eduard Zentsik is not questioning the existence of Love—he knows it already exists. Everything to hope for already exists. Snap your fingers, wink, whisper a wish. Let yourself believe in the eternal, never-ending beauty, and let Hope be your guide to the whole world of love.

https://www.saatchiart.com/art/Painting-She-is-like-cat/733440/2244063/view