Rachell Sumpter

WE'RE SUPPORTING

Lin Zhipeng’s flash-heavy snapshot photos have a Terry Richardson vibe about them, but without the smarminess. Instead, Lin documents a playfulness with which young Chinese people are approaching newfound freedoms in their society. Read more

WE'RE TRAVELLING TO

Located on a mountain in country outside Mudgee, in New South Wales, Australia, a permanent camp designed by Casey Brown has been set. A timber structure clad in copper has been designed to have a closed state and an open state. From the closed position, the flanks of copper are hoisted and capture views across the valley. With an imagery of structures, materials and mechanics of old, there is something romantic about this foothold on the hill.

WE'RE WEARING

Abstracted geometric forms, peculiar clockwork pieces, and a sense of childhood play; I can’t quite pinpoint why I love the jewellery designs of Sydney creative, Elke Kramer, but I do know that her jewellery is unique and off-beat, yet widely accessible and wearable. Read more

WE'RE THINKING

Yann Gross’ photos of tattooed bikers, cowboys, drag races, and Confederate-flag-adorned trailer homes are unnerving documents of the American experience. But his subjects aren’t American, they’re residents of the Rhone Valley in Gross’ native Switzerland. Judging from his photos, Europeans don’t necessarily look down their noses at the U S of A. Some of them actually celebrate it, blemishes and all.

WE'RE READING

Artist Bill Zeman has an ruthless, hard-nosed art director giving him orders — his four-year-old daughter. He posts the products of their stormy collaboration along with her devastating critiques on his blog, Tiny Art Director, where you can also purchase the book version. Read more

I don’t care if Jimmy Hendrix was dragged kicking and screaming from where he lies, put through a torrid round of detox, and handed an invisible guitar – a Flying V carved out of the bones of Robert Johnson. It would still pale in comparison to this. Read more

WE'RE LISTENING TO

There are two kinds of metalheads: those that are drawn by the hyper masculine, angry, aggressive aspect of metal, and those that are drawn by its Wagnerian drama, themes of pagan nature worship, and disdain towards modern civilization. The line between the latter and hippies is quite thin. I am one of these sorts of metal fans, which is why I also really love bands like The Lickets, an empyrean, luminously beautiful, experimental folk collective. They make music that makes you feel like a tiny speck floating in the vast oceans of existence, perfect for a night of star gazing, just like Burzum’s fourth album, Filosifem.