For the past year, artist and businessman Cbabi Bayoc has attempted to create a portrait a day of a father interacting with his kid.
The resulting project, titled “365 Days With Dad,” goes beyond showing fathers who go through the motions of parenthood, and shows engaging and teachable moments.
Originally from O’Fallon, Illinois Bayoc began this project as a means of stability, but over the course of a year it morphed into a means of preserving memories and encouraging parents to be their best selves when with their kids.
He has also used social media to create a following of his work. Bayoc posts his completed images on Facebook, allowing viewers to contact him to recreate memories shared with their own fathers. The images vary from the fun and lighthearted (going fishing, piggyback rides) to the bittersweet and solemn (returning home from war, saying goodbye to a parent).
Though Bayoc fell short of completing 365 photos in 2012, he plans to finish the project this winter and find a place to exhibit his work.
St. Louis Public Radio’s Erin Williams talked with Cbabi Bayoc about the memories he has with his own father, who died when he was twelve, being a father to his own three children, and using his talents to promote a positive image of fatherhood.
Here is an edited excerpt:
On deciding to focus on “father figures” as well as typical dads:
“That’s something I struggled with in the beginning too – ‘Is it just going to be dad?’ [But I realized] that’s not everybody’s reality. In order to heal what’s going on in the community it has to be more than concentrating on dad. You got pieces that are more about the uncle or the older brother who stepped in, or your granddad. It’s really just about the male figure who’s been important in your life. Letting kids know ‘Dad’s not home. You can’t make him come home, but I’m sure there’s somebody around you who has either tried or you need to seek out somebody you honestly and sincerely can trust to be that figure that you need to show you the way.’”
On using his work as bonding time with his three children:
They are always around. I paint right in the dining room of the house. Several of my kids have actually helped me paint some of the pieces. They do the underpainting, they’ve blackened the canvas, they go to Kinko’s with me to ship the paintings off. They’ve been immersed in it. They’re 7, 9, and 12. I’m sure they’ll be able to express themselves more about it when they’re 20 or so and they get it. But right now, that’s all they’ve known – Dad as an artist. We might not go to the park as much, but we’re always right there.”
On painting the future:
“The very reason I did it – there are a lot of dads who are present and doing what they’re supposed to do, even though it always doesn’t seem so. On a practical level, I want kids to know you can be an artist and make a living, make an impact, do something responsible with your time – just that you have other options. A lot of kids come into [Sweet Art] and see the paintings or they’ll see me in the corner with the easel and they’ll be shocked. I don’t know where they though where the pieces come from or who’s doing them – to see them, they’re just amazed…that I’m doing it now, means they can too.Just showing that art’s still important, and imagery’s still important. Sometimes it’s important to paint what we want to have happen as opposed to just what we always see and think. You can paint possibilities.”
Listen to Erin Williams’ entire interview with Cbabi Bayoc here.
Varnette P. Honeywood (1950 - 2010). Image via pressking.com.
“[In art] you can depict segregation, starving and homelessness, but in Varnette’s work you can see teenagers doing homework, a family cooking a meal, girls doing their hair.”
New York-based artist Gary Simmons is known for his “erasure” technique, which he began using in the early 1990s. Initially creating semi-erased works with chalk on blackboards, the artist has evolved to works on paper, paint on canvas, and murals that mimic smudged chalk. The resulting blurred and ghostly images often refer to intersections of pop culture, race, and class. History’s subjective bent is also a strong theme within Simmons’s work, and the simple nature of chalk lends itself to his artistic concerns—especially in its suggestion of basic communication, the human hand, education systems, and of easily erasable or altered information.
The monumental work Subtlety of a Train Wreck, 1998, included in this exhibition, is comprised of blackboard paint directly on the gallery wall serving as the ground, with the image rendered in chalk. It portrays the split second before two trains collide, or the calm before destruction. Subtlety, as with much of Simmons’s work, connects to a cinematic scope, evident in its scale (it is the size of a movie screen) and in its depiction of a suspenseful moment just before the high drama. Simmons was also attracted to the phrase “subtlety of a train wreck” and what it implies on a personal level: “The crash in this drawing is the occurrence that is about to happen. It reflects on the self in a way that I was interested in—the idea of feeling like, or being in a situation that is a train wreck.” This exhibition marks the first time Subtlety has been produced as a mural since its premier in 1998 for the artist’s solo exhibition at Margo Leavin Gallery in Los Angeles.
Starlite Theatre, 2010 comes from Simmons’s drive-in movie series and depicts the sign from Dallas’s Starlite Drive-In in a twelve-foot-long, black-on-black painting. The Starlite was one of the few theaters in Texas to permit black patrons in the 1950s. The artist’s spotlight on this theater suggests the conundrum of American history because, on the one hand, the 1950s theater sign conjures memories of mischief and freedom for a certain generation,while on the other hand, it speaks to our history of segregation and discrimination. Like much of Simmons’s imagery, this work signifies an idealized past that also has a dark history.
Simmons’s most recent work, In This Corner, 2012, from his Construction Site Series, is made to look like a construction site barrier littered with flyers that announce a championship boxing rematch from 1938. The event was the most-listened-to in radio history, with seventy million people tuning in to the “fight of the century” between Joe Louis, a black American, and Max Schmeling, a German hailed by the Nazi party. It symbolized the differences in countries, races, and political ideologies of that era. This work addresses Simmons’s artistic concerns on multiple levels: it refers to a historic American event; it implies progress (the construction) taking place; but the progress is hidden behind barriers. ”We don’t hold on to architecture in the same way that Europe does,” Simmons has said. “Instead, paths get torn down. It’s a different historical concept that values progress over the past.”
Simmons’s work has been featured in exhibitions at The Museum of Modern Art, New York; the Bohen Foundation, New York; the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York; The Studio Museum in Harlem, New York; the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago; the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Washington, D.C.; the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles; the Saint Louis Art Museum; and the Kunsthaus Zürich. Simmons has recently completed commissions for the New York Presbyterian Hospital and the Dallas Cowboys Stadium.
Beginning in the late ’90s, William Pope.L famously crawled along 22 miles of sidewalk, from the beginning to the end of Broadway—Manhattan’s longest street—wearing a capeless Superman outfit with a skateboard strapped to his back. In varying fits and starts, the performance, titled The Great White Way, 22 Miles, 9 Years, 1 Street, took nine years to complete, with each installment lasting as long as Pope.L could endure the knee and elbow pain (often about six blocks). It is among 30-plus “crawl” pieces that he has performed over more than three decades of work as an artist.
This spring, Pope.L will have an exhibition he describes as “an ambiloquy, a discourse on ambiguity,” at the Renaissance Society in Chicago, his current home.
ROSS SIMONINI: Is your work a form of activism?
WILLIAM POPE.L: When people use the word activism today, it sounds like after-ism—something you do after, reactionary; or back-sterism—something you do backwards. The space I create in my work for others is more formalist, like, “change the world,” or, “change the frame on that painting.”
SIMONINI: Do you want to change the world?
POPE.L: I think that corporations and states have actually co-opted that phrase. I guess that phrase would be connected more to the ’60s. And I think, initially when I was using it, maybe 20 to 25 years ago, that co-optation wasn’t as clear or formidable as it is now. You have to respond to your times. But I think that phrase is connected to the idea of art transforming anything or the idea that radicality in small things is a revolution or the concept of being able to make a life less onerous by offering opportunities to that life.
Pick up a copy of the February 2013 issue of Interview magazine or read complete article here.
Blanc Gallery proudly presents The Endangered Species: A Visual Response to the Vanishing Black Man by artist Raub Welch with an opening reception on Friday, February 22, 2013 from 6:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m. The exhibit will run through May 7, 2013.
In this thought-provoking show Raub challenges audiences to view the work – as if from the future – a future in which black men have actually vanished. Audiences can view this exhibit as an archeological exploration of what a black man was, what he was expected to be, the artifacts of what he loved, and why he vanished. The exhibit masterfully intertwines masculinity, sexuality, slavery, poverty and aspiration.
In addition to being a gifted artist, Raub is a collector of antiques and a sought after interior designer. This exhibit is the sum of his parts. He layers archival text, precious relics, antique photos and starkly modern portraits to create 3-D visual metaphors. Each piece is a riotous installation—a visual treasure hunt. To celebrate Blanc Gallery’s third anniversary and the close of Black History Month, Raub has choreographed a provocative performance piece to accompany the opening called “The Parade of Spades.” Bucket boy drummers and tuxedoed male models will open this wonderful exhibit.
Blanc Gallery is a community based art space, working to re-inspire a Culture of Conversation in Chicago’s historic Bronzeville neighborhood. Gallery hours are Saturdays from 1:00 pm to 3:00 pm and by appointment. Call 773-952-4394 for more information or visit blancchicago.com.
However, the social networking site has since backtracked on its decision, allowing the photo to stay on the Custom Tattoo Design’s Facebook page.
In an email to The Huffington Post, Fred Wolens of Facebook Policy Communications explained the move, writing “Mastectomy photos don’t violate our content standards and are permitted on the site.”
The announcement comes after Lee Roller of the Ontario-based Custom Tattoo Design — the photo’s original poster — reposted the striking image and asked other users to share the photo.
Facebook keeps removing the post in 24hour as an offensive photo do [sic] to nudity. However we feel this woman is both brave and strong so were going to post it anyways and ask for your awareness and support; Please like and share this photo quickly to show your support for this and many other women who have lost so much.
As of Wednesday afternoon, the image had already been shared more than 138,000 times.
This is not the first time the photo has been circulated on the social networking site. The tattoo design was also posted by Middle Aged Woman Talking in October and the Tennessee Breast Cancer Coalition in January. Neither of those posts has been removed by Facebook.
Facebook has a strict policy against the sharing of pornographic content and any explicitly sexual content where a minor is involved. We also impose limitations on the display of nudity. We aspire to respect people’s right to share content of personal importance, whether those are photos of a sculpture like Michelangelo’s David or family photos of a child breastfeeding.
Tilton Gallery is pleased to present We Come Undone, a solo exhibition of wall collages and drawings by Yashua Klos. This is Klos’ first one person show at Tilton. A reception for the artist will take place on Tuesday, February 19th from 6 to 8 pm.
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Yashua Klos explores issues of identity, memory and biography through the lenses of mythical blackness and mythical maleness. Working against the audience’s pre-existing views, Klos consciously engages in a strategy of cultural resistance, using scale and form as well as subject matter to push back against cultural ideas of blackness and marginalization.
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Klos’ formal construction of disparate collaged images mirrors the constant fracturing and reconciliation of blackness, masculinity and family structures within the black urban environment. Klos sees collage itself, as a medium, as a metaphor for the fragmentation of African American identity. Informed by his personal history of growing up without a father on the South Side of Chicago, the artist also references the larger ideas of ancestry, mythology and cosmology. His constructions lead one into an imaginary landscape, at once ancient and futuristic, classic and sci-fi, where identity is both in question and shockingly evident.
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Klos creates his own shallow cubist space by juxtaposing and overlapping smaller collage elements, twisting and turning their orientation to create the illusion of spatial movement and three-dimensional wall sculpture. The impression of fractured space is furthered by the angled vantage points and foreshortened views of recognizable images.
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These are collages hung directly, unframed, on the wall that appear to be intricate patterns composed of multiple, repetitive elements that appear from afar as abstract units. What distinguishes Klos’ work is that these small elements are as often representational or figurative as abstract. They converge to create the larger, whole, images, also representational, often portraits and figures emerging out of an unidentifiable pile of rubble. Heads and faces emerge out of abstract shapes that double as both building blocks and debris. Assembled out of woodblock prints and ink, larger intricate worlds come into being: ambiguous half abstract, half recognizable images, challenging spatial norms as well as art history’s stylistic categories. This physical complexity echoes the psychological ambiguities that comprise Klos’ subject. Perhaps a sculptor at heart, Klos transforms his two-dimensional collages into three-dimensional illusions, works that are at once flat on the wall and appear built out, more like sculptural reliefs.
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Born in Chicago, Klos currently lives and works in Brooklyn, New York and teaches at Hunter College where he received his MFA and at Parsons The New School for Design. He was a resident of the Skowhegan School of Painting and Sculpture in 2005. His work is currently included in Fore on view November 11, 2012 through March 10, 2013 at The Studio Museum in Harlem, New York.
Stare closely at the pictures on this page. What do you think it took to create these beautiful images? An expensive camera, a precision lens, hours of trial and error from a skilled photographer?
Well, the answer is none of the above.
All of these extraordinarily detailed pictures are pencil drawings, created purely by hand — with no digital trickery — by British artist Kelvin Okafor, whose only tools are a set of pencils, a piece of paper and the occasional stick of charcoal (though most of the pictures don’t even require that). Yet no matter how closely one looks, there’s not a pencil line in sight.
The artist’s story is almost as sensational as the pictures he has been producing since he was a teenager who was too poor to leave his house to socialise. Instead of drinking and clubbing, Ofakor, now 27, stayed at home in Tottenham, North London, seeking solace in drawing. Now it looks as if he’s on his way to fame and fortune.
Today, an exhibition of his work opens at London’s Science Museum — and already some of his portraits are changing hands for £10,000 apiece. This week, a portrait he drew of King Hussein of Jordan is to be presented to the late monarch’s widow, Queen Noor.
Anyone can commission a portrait, though he will charge anything from £800 to £3,000 for his work. He says he prefers to work from photographs rather than real life — partly because of the length of time he spends on each picture.
So how does Okafor create these incredible works of art? ‘Before I start drawing, I spend a few hours — even a few days — analysing the face from every angle. I usually start with the eyes. From there, I make the whole shape of the face and I work in the detail.
‘I draw in sections. I’m right-handed so I work from left to right. After I’ve finished the left eye, I work the nostrils, then the left side of the cheek, then the lips. I always work in that order.
‘I work for four hours in one go, take a half-hour break, work another four to five hours, then have another half-hour break. After that I’ll work for as long as I can. Sometimes I might work ten to 15 hours in one day. It takes me on average 80 to 100 hours to do a portrait.’
He says the importance of hard work was impressed upon him, his brother and two sisters by their parents. His father, who now works in the oil industry, was originally a warden looking after a council estate; his mother stayed at home to bring up the children. For this is a story not just about an incredible craftsman but of the triumph of the human spirit, the value of faith and a strong, loving family. ‘Absolutely. My parents came to this country from Nigeria so that their children could have a better life. They instilled the message that hard work pays off.’
Education mattered, too. His parents, practising Catholics, fought for him to attend St Ignatius College, a prestigious Jesuit school in Enfield, several miles away from their home — whose ex-pupils include Alfred Hitchcock and Beatles producer Sir George Martin.
Okafor says: ‘Most teenagers experiment a lot with their life. They have their experiences.’ He means drink and drugs. ‘I didn’t have that. But, to be honest, I didn’t want it anyway. I was too busy trying to focus on my craft.’
Okafor, who had gained nine GCSEs, went on to study art at Middlesex University. It was here he found his true vocation. ‘When I draw, I’m doing something I love. I lose myself in my art. Time doesn’t matter to me.’ Incredibly, he was so absorbed in his work he was at first oblivious to the riots which were raging through his neighbourhood during summer 2011.
‘I was drawing at the time. My house is a minute away from where it was happening. I heard helicopters and I thought: “What’s going on?” Then I went outside and saw people running around, and I started getting phone calls asking: “Kelvin, are you OK? There’s a riot in Tottenham.” It was a big shock to me.’
Okafor believes he might never have become an artist had he not needed to look for a distraction. For his upbringing was far from privileged — not that he is the sort of person to complain about life.
He grew up in one of the country’s poorest areas, where he still lives with his family. As an 11-year-old, he returned home with his family from an extended holiday to find their house had been repossessed.
‘It was just before I started secondary school and my life changed completely. We were homeless — not living on the street but we didn’t have a house for ourselves for the next three years. We moved from place to place, from cousin to cousin.’
He lived in five different homes over the course of just a few years — before eventually moving into a council flat, where the family remain today.
Why did the family lose the house? ‘I never knew. I just came back from Nigeria and found we weren’t living in that house any more. I’ve never really wanted to press my parents on the subject. I just accepted what had happened and moved on.
‘It was a struggle. That’s why I spent a lot of time by myself, drawing. I didn’t have the luxury of going out and spending money.’
Today, his greatest pleasure is the pride he knows his success gives his parents. The other day, his local TV news carried a short item about him.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen my dad cry before. But he cried when he saw me and my art on the BBC. And my mum. Everyone was emotional. I was crying. It makes me feel happy to know I am making my family proud. That means the most to me. It makes me want to work harder and do more.’
Willingboro resident and artist Lady Bird Strickland stands in front of her portrait of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Photo by Dennis Mc Donald, Staff Photographer, Burlington County Times. Image via phillyburbs.com.
For many years, artist Lady Bird Strickland painted the people that she met in her life – and it was no ordinary life
Subjects such as Dizzy Gillespie, Josephine Baker, Charlie Parker, Marian Anderson, Miles Davis, and Duke Ellington were all part of the jazz bebop scene in Harlem where the young Georgia native danced and romanced in the 1940s, before putting it all down with brushstrokes.
But by the 1980s – married, settled down in suburban Willingboro, and still painting – Strickland began to grasp that the New York jazz era that she had witnessed was just one scene in a much larger mural of the African American experience.
The now-86-year-old artist found what she refers to as her “calling: to paint black history from the heart.” Today, the canvases that she most treasures are an extended riff that begins with the era of slavery and plays all the way through to President Obama’s inauguration, with solo appearances by everyone from Sojourner Truth and Frederick Douglass up through Medgar Evers and Shirley Chisholm.
Some of Strickland’s best paintings are on display through March 2 at the recently restored Warden’s House on High Street in Mount Holly, which is featuring her work along with Haitian artist Frandy Jean as a celebration of African American History Month. Admission is free.
Featured are not only portraits of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and other black civil rights heroes, but photographs of the artist during her youth – stunningly beautiful with wide-set eyes and high cheekbones, wearing her exquisite hand-sewn clothing.
No art paper
Still beautiful but slowed by age and some recent falls, Strickland sits in front of a piece called “To Dream the Forbidden Dream,” depicting 32 African American icons from W.E.B. DuBois to Jesse Owens. It’s a dramatic retelling of black American history, but so is Strickland’s own life story.
She was born in 1926, one of six siblings, in a deeply segregated corner of north Georgia, where it would be something of an understatement to say black girls were not encouraged to express themselves, especially not through art.
“I used to paint as a kid, but I didn’t have art paper, just striped paper from tablets,” Strickland recalled.
At school, sometimes her teacher might administer a “whuppin’ ” with a hickory stick when she was discovered drawing.
Her mother ran a restaurant out of their home called Sally’s Tea Room, and “everybody came, everybody came from 20 miles away, even James Brown,” the future Godfather of Soul.
That was just a foreshadowing of the famous people she would meet after she boarded a train – “a huge adventure in those days!” – at age 13 and headed to 130th Street in Harlem, where an older sister needed help raising her five children. She worked in a zipper factory on Long Island to make ends meet, but art would be a ticket to bigger things.
Painting neckties
Strickland’s painting of a woman, tired and bent over from washing laundry, not only won the R.H. Macy Achievement Contest for New York City high school students but earned her a scholarship to the prestigious Pratt Institute.
More financial hard times during World War II caused her to leave school, and her young adult years reflected the contradictions of trying to make it as a black woman artist before the civil rights era.
After dark, she drank in the golden age of Harlem jazz and depicted it in colorful paintings. By day, she supported herself by painting neckties in a storefront window and making three-dimensional ultraviolet billboards that showed up in places like the New Jersey Turnpike. She also sewed her own clothes, winning a costume contest at the Savoy Ballroom.
And there was one more legacy of those bebop nights: her daughter, Pat Cleveland, the result of an affair with a Swedish saxophone player named Johnny Johnson. She worked for years at Bellevue Hospital as a single mom to raise Pat, who grew up to become an internationally known model.
“She was trying to make it as an artist; it was hard in those days, and raising a child was hard,” said Strickland’s son-in-law, Paul van Ravenstein, a photographer who today acts as the artist’s agent and her occasional caretaker.
After Strickland married a retired Army veteran, who died in 2003, and moved to Willingboro, supporters such as van Ravenstein have worked hard to win recognition for her decades of painting, leading to showings in New York, Newark, and elsewhere.
She still feels a calling to paint black heroes, including a portrait of Ray Charles singing at Bill Clinton’s inauguration that she’s been working on for months, but she said her new passion was painting “beautiful children going to school, little kids, and I like to put pretty dresses on them.”
Her desire, she said, is to show schoolkids taking advantage of all the opportunities that were denied to her 80 years ago.
Over the years, many artists have played a major role in the October Gallery story. One such artist was Andrew Turner.
Biography of Andrew Turner (1944-2001)
Andrew Turner was born in l944 in Chester, Pennsylvania. He was a graduate of Temple University’s Tyler School of Art. His work has been featured in numerous solo exhibitions and group exhibitions in the United States and abroad. He taught art in grades K-12 in the Chester, Pennsylvania Public Schools and in correctional centers. His appointments include Artist-in-Residence and Curator, Deshong Museum, Chester, PA; Lecturer, Widener University; and Lecturer, Institute of Contemporary Art, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA. He also toured and lectured in The People’s Republic of China. Collectors who hold Turner’s paintings include Woody Allen, Dr. Maya Angelou, ARCO Chemical Company, Bell Telephone Company, Dr. Constance Clayton, Will Smith, Danny Glover, Mr. and Mrs. Bill Cosby, Edie Huggins, Eric Lindros, Mr. and Mrs. Louis Madonni, Moses Malone, Penn State University, the artist formerly known as Prince, Mr. and Mrs. Harold Sorgenti, Swarthmore College, Mrs. Marilyn Wheaton, and Widener University’s Deshong Museum, just to name a few. His Philadelphia commissions include: WDAS FM (1996); Marco Solo, (written by J. Schwinn and G. Harlow, illustrated by Andrew Turner) Reverse Angle Productions, Inc. (1995); and Robin Hood Dell, Fairmount Park (1985).
The Product and the African American Art Industry – Audio
Describes – what is a print, poster, original, silkscreen and lithograph.
Discusses the African American Art Industry circa 2000.
Run time approx. 23 min. File format MP3
Over the years, many artists have played a major role in the October Gallery story. One such artist was Andrew Turner.
Biography of Andrew Turner (1944-2001)
Andrew Turner was born in l944 in Chester, Pennsylvania. He was a graduate of Temple University’s Tyler School of Art. His work has been featured in numerous solo exhibitions and group exhibitions in the United States and abroad. He taught art in grades K-12 in the Chester, Pennsylvania Public Schools and in correctional centers. His appointments include Artist-in-Residence and Curator, Deshong Museum, Chester, PA; Lecturer, Widener University; and Lecturer, Institute of Contemporary Art, University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, PA. He also toured and lectured in The People’s Republic of China. Collectors who hold Turner’s paintings include Woody Allen, Dr. Maya Angelou, ARCO Chemical Company, Bell Telephone Company, Dr. Constance Clayton, Will Smith, Danny Glover, Mr. and Mrs. Bill Cosby, Edie Huggins, Eric Lindros, Mr. and Mrs. Louis Madonni, Moses Malone, Penn State University, the artist formerly known as Prince, Mr. and Mrs. Harold Sorgenti, Swarthmore College, Mrs. Marilyn Wheaton, and Widener University’s Deshong Museum, just to name a few. His Philadelphia commissions include: WDAS FM (1996); Marco Solo, (written by J. Schwinn and G. Harlow, illustrated by Andrew Turner) Reverse Angle Productions, Inc. (1995); and Robin Hood Dell, Fairmount Park (1985). . Back to Art for Sale
Highlight the achievements of Africans Americans in academia, STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math) and the Arts who have pushed the boundaries of thought and technology
Expose the University of Illinois community to a demographic of “nerds” and “geeks” who are rarely highlighted in pop-culture and/or in contemporary discussions on geek culture that include comics, gadgets, research, gaming, science fiction, computers, and technology broadly defined.
Critically discuss what “geek chic” is in Black culture while concurrently analyzing how people identified as “geeks” have been marginalized in terms of popularity, identity, masculinity, femininity and sexuality.
We want to broaden the participation of African Americans in Science, Technology, Engineering, Math and Science and the pursuit of doctoral degrees through a series of events that can increase exposure to a diverse group of faculty, accomplished professionals and graduate students.
There are multiple ways you can show a former flame what he or she is missing. First, you can look amazing (see: Amy Poehler at the Golden Globes). Or two, you can look amazing… naked. Liberty Ross went with the latter.
In the upcoming issue of LOVE magazine entitled “The Clean Issue” (the one with a cover photo of Kate Moss naked in a bathtub, in case you missed it), Rupert Sanders’ soon-to-be-ex-wife poses completely nude in a shoot lensed by Sølve Sundsbø and styled by the mag’s editor-in-chief Katie Grand — we use the term “styled” loosely here.
“I always end up naked with Katie Grand,” Liberty said.
And even though her career has seen a boost, the mother of two still isn’t used to the increased attention. “It is very intense. I feel like recently I am finding out who I am,” she tells LOVE.
Well, Liberty, now that you’ve gone naked, the world is certainly learning a lot about you, too. Eat your heart out, Rupert.
