Breaking New Ground

Changing the Way We See the World

Aesthetica Magazine is renowned for curation and for talent spotting. There is a certain visual aesthetic that defines what we do. We look for images that change the way we see the world – inviting viewers to explore a new set of possibilities. How do you take a photograph in an original way? How far can you push the concepts in order to create something that contributes to wider discourse on image-making? Find out more with some of our favourite photographers from over the years. First up is Cig Harvey, here with the image Sadie & the Moon (2013). Harvey has a way of telling complex human stories through a minimal but impacting style. The images are full of stark contrasts; vivid colours stand out against bleak backdrops; hands intersect with nature and shadows dance across domestic scenery.

Although the works are dreamlike, the recognisable subjects keep them grounded in real life, reflecting on the surrounding wonder instead of trying to enhance it. cigharvey.com.

Thomas Wrede, The Luminous Screen (2015)

If there is an image that draws you in, it’s this one – from the nostalgia surrounding the image of the “drive-in” to the way this experience has been transformed in 2021. Thomas Wrede's photographs traverse the lines between simulation and reality, manufacturing the colossal through the miniature. He uses commonplace objects for the staging of the images: toy cars, model trees and mountains. As a result, Wrede's analogue images depict something that is both monumental and sublime, but it is – ultimately – a replica. The event never took place in "real life." These are scenes that seem familiar, but they are transformed through miniature re-creation. thomas-wrede.de.

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Ellie Davies, Stars 8 (2014-2015)

Stars 8 does so much in one space. Innately, we are drawn to nature and the enormity of the universe – we have an intrinsic inability to comprehend space and time on such a macrolevel. Davies developed something spectacular here, not just compositionally, but conceptually. These images are beautiful of course – but these are also expertly made collages with real information. The stars came from the Hubble space telescope, bringing a sense of inter-connectivity that is simply not achieved in many other ways. If there is one thing that binds humanity together, it is our time on planet Earth. These images remind us of our fleeting existence on a grand scale. elliedavies.co.uk.

Ben Zank, VTL (2015)

Using the body as a muse is common, but it’s how Ben Zank does it that is particularly transformative. It’s the colour, styling and composition that takes this kind of photography just one step further. The yellows of the slide and jumpsuit blend together in a kind of fluid and anthropomorphic play. Every manmade structure, whether recreational or functional, is harnessed to project the human persona: an intangible concept which, through a singular instance, comes to life through curious investigation and reflective interpretation of surrounding topographies. The shape of the body is so compelling – even humorous – that you can’t help but want to try this at home. benzank.com.

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Ryan Schude, Halloween (2014)

Americana is ever-present in contemporary visual culture. It seemed to reach new audiences about a decade ago – the saturation of gas stations, highways and wooden houses was immense. Ryan Schude cut through the noise and did something different. He introduced an element of the imaginary fused with Gothic fairy-tale. This brought Americana back into the fold but in a hyperreal way infused with technicolour. Halloween harks back to a golden age of advertising; its pervasive nostalgia is enriched by humorous detail, and choreographed tension throughout. This version of culture isn’t about what’s in front of you, but what lies under the surface. ryanschude.com.

Kevin Cooley, Wind River Canyon Wyoming (2009)

Not many photographers ignite the imagination like Kevin Cooley. His projects are all different, and there is something remarkable about that. You cannot predict what he will do next, which is why we are always looking. The images in the series At Light’s Edge provide desolate views of American landscapes illuminated by eerie distress signals – messages coming from above or vice-versa. Lightning that shoots or falls through the sky highlights the vulnerability of the land. In many ways, this photography was very much ahead of its time in terms of ecological dialogues. The message is loud and clear: we need the natural and the manmade to co-exist. kevincooley.net.

Alexis Pichot, Marche Céleste #11 (2017)

Light installations will always be bewitching to the eye. From the “skyspaces” of James Turrell to the neon tubes of Dan Flavin, we are consistently drawn to fluorescent light fixtures, especially when they intervene with natural landscapes. Alexis Pichot worked as an interior designer in Paris for more than 10 years, during which he became sensitive to the use and manipulation of space. Later, Pichot moved his attention away from the bustle of the city into the welcoming mystery of the landscape. Marche Céleste is utterly captivating – shot in the forest of Fontainebleau, France. Deeply mystical and ritualistic, the intimate photographs re-establish us with the supremacy of nature. alexispichot.com.

James Casebere, Yellow Overhang with Patio (2016)

For almost 40 years, James Casebere has devised illusory tabletop models, creating thought-provoking and visually deceptive photographs. Closely associated with the Pictures Generation, the artist’s early practice was characteristic of Postmodern cultural appropriation. Moving into recent years, Casebere’s illusionistic landscapes have been meticulously assembled by hand, inspired by a variety of spatial and architectural realities, from the subprime mortgage crisis of 2008 to the works of Mexican architect Luis Barragán. The structures are carefully lit, photographed in the artist’s studio, and are endlessly intriguing – playing with light in constructed worlds. jamescasebere.com.

Brooke DiDonato, Closure (2016)

“Uncanny” photography has swept the globe in recent years – images set within domestic locations, teetering on a sharp line between something familiar and deeply unsettling. Obscured identities, repressed emotions and precarious – even dangerous – situations presented to curious onlookers. Brooke DiDonato is a master of the surreal, offering images filled with palpable tension. Closure is one such example: a figure bends over, neck held downwards by the edge of a garage door. DiDonato’s oeuvre follows as such: windows, staircases and pavements are part of bizarre scenarios that call into question a sense of tantalising unease with is nonetheless mesmerising. brookedidonato.com.

Reginald Van de Velde, Seventies Extravaganza (2012)

Finding beauty in decay became a popular theme in photography over the past decade. People started seeking out places that had been reclaimed by nature, sneaking into Chernobyl to capture abandoned rooms. There is something compelling about these images because you start to think about what life would be like if humanity was gone – the world starts a rewilding process. These images question the value that we place on certain locations. If there is one photographer who gets it right every time it is Reginald Van de Velde. His work takes you back to forgotten places – the details live in your mind and you can’t escape the bewilderment of deserted spaces. suspiciousminds.com.

Pivotal Illumination

Electrifying Design

SEMINAL DESIGNS CHART THE EVOLUTION OF INTERNATIONAL LIGHTING AS A CATALYST FOR GLOBAL TECHNOLOGICAL, FUNCTIONAL AND ARTISTIC EXPRESSION.

In 21st Century Lighting Design (Bloomsbury, 2014), writer Alyn Griffiths states: “The 21st century has witnessed an unprecedented upheaval in the field of lighting design, with legislation banning the sale of the iconic incandescent light bulb, forcing designers and manufacturers to re-evaluate every aspect of lighting. The sudden extinction of a light source that has been fundamental to the design of lighting products for over 130 years – along with the introduction of energy-efficient alternatives with distinctly different physical dimensions and luminescent properties – has rocked the industry and provoked an ongoing process of creative transformation that will shape our future relationship with light.”

But how did we get to this point? From the invention of the first electric light by British chemist Humphry Davy in 1808 to Philips’ development of the “ultra-efficient” lightbulb in 2011 (which Griffiths refers to above), lighting technology has fascinated engineers, scientists, architects and designers worldwide. Electrifying Design: A Century of Lighting is the first large-scale exhibition in the USA to examine international lighting, surveying major avant-garde design movements whilst tapping into light's innate ability to delight and inspire.

This exhibition presents 85 rare or limited-production examples by the world’s leading innovators, including Achille Castiglioni, Christian Dell, Greta Magnusson-Grossman, Poul Henningsen, Ingo Maurer, Verner Panton, Gino Sarfatti, Ettore Sottsass and Wilhelm Wagenfeld. Electrifying Design is co-organised by Cindi Strauss, Curator of Decorative Arts, Crafts and Design at Museum of Fine Arts Houston, and Sarah Schleuning, Senior Curator of Decorative Arts and Design at the Dallas Museum of Art. In conversation, Strauss (CS) and Schleuning (SS) discuss the balance between aesthetics and functionality in some of the world's most boundary pushing projects, realised and produced over the last 100 years.

A: Where and when did you begin planning for this seminal exhibition? Had you worked together before?

CS: I first had the idea for an exhibition on lighting design in 2001, but apart from a general outline, I did not begin fleshing it out until about 2008. For many reasons too long to enumerate, work in earnest did not begin for a number of years. I invited Sarah, who was then at the High Museum of Art, Atlanta, to join me as co-curator in 2016. At that point, we started from scratch from an organisational and thematic perspective, though my years of research on specific designers and manufacturers proved very useful when we started putting the ideas down. I had also built a collection of lighting at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston, 23 pieces from our collection ultimately became the basis for the exhibition. SS: As we developed the themes of the show, we wanted to amplify lighting as progenitor of design, leading through creativity and ingenuity. Whilst we highlight key designers, advances and the earliest version of ideas, we thought about dividing the exhibitions into sections based around the notions of typologies, the bulb as a source of creative inspiration, and the quality of light implemented through various techniques and materials. Since I joined Dallas Museum of Art, I have been building our modern and contemporary lighting collection, including works featured in the show by

“In the early to mid1900s, designers were influenced by increased domestic demands so they created new adjustable lamps that would allow people to better read, work, and undertake hobbies after dark.”

Previous Page: Vico Magistretti, manufactured by Artemide, Eclisse Table Lamp, designed 1966, made c. 1970, lacquered aluminum and bulb, private collection. © Archivio / Studio Magistretti— Fondazione Vico Magistretti.

Left: Ron Arad, Ge-Off Sphere Hanging Light, 2000, polyamide, stainless steel, and bulb. © 2000. Ron Arad / Photo © tomvackphotographer. Marianne Brandt’s Button Lamp, Marc Newson’s Super Guppy, and Gino Sarfatti 600/p Table Lamp.

A: The show is split into three key sections: Typologies, Lightbulb and Quality of Light. How did you decide upon these conceptual or stylistic tenets, and were there any other thematic sections you considered?

CS: Initially, we looked at about a thousand lighting devices designed from the late 19th century to the present. We knew that we did not want to organise the show as a survey or chronologically, as those methodologies could not be thoroughly realised due to space and loan considerations. Ultimately, numerous ideas that touched on key designers, countries of origin, specific brackets of time, and design movements came forth as we recognised stylistic, technological and material threads across the century. We workshopped them all, determining which overlapped, which were central, and which yielded the clearest understanding of the evolution of lighting design, finally distilling them to three overarching ideas that had many layers to explore.

A: The first section, Typologies, looks at the placement of lighting for both domestic and public uses, considering direction and adjustability. How have designers considered placement over the years, and in what ways has this influenced our ways of living – across the globe?

CS: In the early to mid-1900s, designers were influenced by increased domestic demands so they created new adjustable lamps that would allow people to better read, work, and undertake hobbies after dark. The Anglepoise – produced in 1932 by British designer George Carwardine – defined this new typology, with its arms adjustable on many levels as well as movable shades that directed light. These were arguably part of the most important leap forward in lighting – responding to shifts in the way people lived and worked.

In the contemporary period, those functional needs were already met, so artists began to look at architectural spaces and the activities taking place within them differently, so they produced works to meet expanded definitions of light in the private and public spheres. Both of these responses altered global living in exciting, pivotal and experimental ways.

A: Lightbulb studies the functionality of the bulb itself, or the manifestation of “capturing light in a bottle” as German Designer Ingo Maurer suggested. How have designers played with the presentation of bulbs, both for its utilitarian purpose and unexpected aesthetic appeal?

SS: Whilst the bulb has played a tremendous functional role, it is also the creative driver for many works over the years, including Ingo Maurer’s incredible Bulb Light (1966). The idea of enshrining the bulb in a larger bulb-shaped casing amplifies its role in a whimsical way. Other designers mass bulbs together like Rody Graumans 85 Lamps uses “light lines” drawing in space such as with Eileen Gray ‘s Tube Lamp. Here, we can see that the sum is greater than its parts.

A: As the first large-scale exhibition of its kind in the USA, this show provides a huge survey of important pieces or concepts. How important was it for you to show the genesis of seminal designs, and mark their inception?

SS: The narrative is the three sections: typologies, the naked bulb and quality of light. In each section, we take a look at

key pieces, the earliest examples of innovation, as well as the alchemy of the work. For instance, Carwardine’s early Anglepoise delves into the early versions of the task lamp, whilst Gaetano Pesce’s Moloch Floor Lamp is in the “wonder” portion of the same section. The show is not focused on chronology, design movement, or national identity, though you can see these ideas and elements reflected in individual works or groupings, like Post-War Italian design.

A: Beyond the historical interest in design – light is inherently playful, and blockbuster exhibitions including luminescent installations or colour blocking are certainly bringing in more and more audiences for their interactive, “Instagrammable” presentation. How will the curation provoke a sense of curiosity or play, and what are some of the key products that instil this sense of wonder?

CS: There are so many "wow" moments throughout the gallery – both big and small. Certainly, the immersive works draw attention due to their own scale and interactivity. Moooi

Works’ Mega Chandelier is made of over 40 individual descending chandeliers; Studio Drift’s Flylight comprises individual hand-blown glass tubes that light up based on the movement of the viewer; Isamu Noguchi’s ethereal Akari lamps – characterised by traditional Japanese Gifu lanterns – offer users the experience of lighting as an environment.

A: What are your favourite pieces?

CS: I am partial to some of the quieter but revolutionary projects in the show – Wilhelm Wagenfeld's adjustable early Floor Lamp; Gino Sarfatti's Wall Lamp with its rhythm of coloured shades; Jacques le Chevallier's Desk Lamp’s industrial aesthetic of exposed rivets and sheet metal; Toyo Ito's Floor Lamp with its globes within globes; and Johanna Grawunder's Giolight 1’s LED floating planes. I also have a deep-seeded love for the Italian works (Post-War and Radical). SS: It depends on the moment, but I am always finding something new and exciting about all the works. Inevitably, what draws me to the subject is the field itself. In this moment, I love the purity of Noguchi’s Akari, with the simplicity of the delicate paper globe hovering around a naked bulb, and the intimacy of Artemide’s bright orange Eclisse lamp, with its half-domed sphere that can rotate to revel or hide the bulb behind it enacting your own private eclipse. Truthfully, I could point out something I love about each one.

Right: Willem Hendrik Gispen, manufactured by W. H. Gispen & Co., Giso No. 23 Hanging Lamp, designed 1926, made 1930–36, chrome-plated brass, opal glass, and bulb, Collection VAN DEN BRUINHORST Gallery. © 1926 Willem Hendrik Gispen.

A: Lighting has developed so much over the last century, even in the last couple of years. What do you think is the future of light in the next 50 years? Where can technology go on from this point in time? Does it need to?

CS: Who can predict how we will live and work in the future? Much of the next few years are, of course, uncertain. All I know is that lighting design as a discipline will continue to stylistically and technologically lead the way in responding to future needs and desires. Sustainability will certainly be major considerations for all future products. SS: My hope is it that we continue to push the boundaries by finding new opportunities for exploration, innovation and engagement in a rapidly changing world. With the current shift to voice and app-driven interfaces – with AI and algorithm-based functionality in the home – will the physicality of turning things on and adjusting reflectors be lost, or will we find new ways to have and experience human interaction? Words Kate Simpson

Electrifying Design: A Century of Lighting, Museum of Fine Arts, Houston Until 16 May

Identities Transposed

Kriss Munsya

Kriss Munsya was born in the Democratic Republic of Congo and raised in Brussels.

Here, nestled within a Euro-centric community, he was confronted with his “differences” early on. Discrimination and violence – experienced in early childhood – left a mark upon the artist, shrouding the construction of an authentic identity, and leaving Munsya distanced from a sense of self. The Eraser series translates this experience of detachment and disassociation, providing a critical reflection upon internalised structures. It is a story of change and transformation. Munsya notes: “It is a combination of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, The Dark Side of The Moon, Thom Yorke’s 2006 album The Eraser, and my own experiences. I was always curious about how it would feel to erase someone from your memory – the sensation of putting yourself in danger. The characters here are trying to erase white dominance by transposing Blackness.” krissmunsya.com.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

Kriss Munsya, from The Eraser (2020). Courtesy of the artist.

The Story of Aesthetica

Marking 100 Editions

AESTHETICA IS ONE OF THE KEY VOICES FOR CONTEMPORARY VISUAL CULTURE. HEAR FROM ONE OF THE FOUNDERS, CHERIE FEDERICO, ABOUT SETTING UP THIS PUBLICATION.

This is the story of Aesthetica. We are 100 issues old. It all started on a Sunday in November 2002. I was in the UK studying for my Master’s Degree. I’d won a scholarship to study in Spain and that’s how eventually I made my way to

England. But that part of the story comes much later.

I grew up in the Catskill Mountains – a tiny town about two hours directly north of NYC. I wanted to work in publishing from a very early age, and I was fortunate enough to undertake an internship at a magazine in New York in the early 2000s. It was a small literary journal, but it was so fascinating; I got involved with everything that I possibly could. I was hungry for knowledge and experience. I did a study abroad term in York as part of my undergraduate degree, and I knew

I should come back to continue my studies, so I did.

I’d had such a great experience with the internship, and I was keen to continue learning. However, at that time in York there wasn’t a magazine to intern with; it didn’t even occur to me to commute to another city. I said to Dale Donley (the reason why I was in the UK in the first place), “let’s start a magazine today.” How on Earth do you do this without social media? The old school way – you make posters (designed on

Word) and get on your bike to hang them up around the city.

We did this on a Sunday in late November, having set up an email account (artandwriting@hotmail.com). The posters said “Do you write? Do you draw? If so send us your work. We are starting a new magazine and want to hear from you.” When I think back to that very basic poster, it makes me so sentimental. I wouldn’t have thought that an idea like that would turn into the magazine that you are reading today. It was all very innocent. We were doing this to promote “equality, creativity and diversity.” That was our mission and still is today. We were just two people passionate about arts and culture.

We cycled around York and hung up posters everywhere. I didn’t realise that this was against the law. I got an email from the City of York council about it. By the time I got home after an energetic day flyering, we had three emails with people’s work. I couldn’t believe it. It was such an amazing feeling. I was starting a magazine. However, there were a few things we forgot to do – cost up production, think about distribution, obtain some sort of funds. We didn’t have any money to do this and I didn’t realise that you could apply for grants. I am from the USA – there is no one there to support you. If you want to do something, you have to do it yourself.

In many ways, this upbringing made me resourceful and resilient. We got a quote from a printer and it was really expensive. By this point it was February 2003 and I was starting to feel concerned that we wouldn’t be able to print the magazine. A digital magazine was unheard of, and there wouldn’t be a way to disseminate it anyway. Eventually, I found a printers that was much more affordable. The next problem was lack of finance altogether, so we got an Egg credit card.

This decision was the one that turned the magazine into a business. We had a debt and we had to pay it back, so the magazine had to succeed. Our big break came by obtaining distribution nationwide in Borders from Issue One. I just asked my local Borders how to get the magazine stocked and the manager of the magazine section gave me the number of the buyer in London. I called him and he asked me to send

“We decided to leave our jobs to give it one year. We got our first office later that year. It was small – two metres wide by four metres long. That little room was our world. We worked every day apart from Christmas and New Year's – 363 days.”

Previous Page: Amy Harrity, Feelings – Shelbie, 2013.

Left: Massimo Colonna, from the series (Non) Gravità. Courtesy of the artist. him a sample, and call him in a week. I lovingly packed up the magazine and waited. When I called him, my heart was in my stomach. I was so nervous. He said, “Yes, we’ll stock this magazine. I think there really is a market for it.” Just like that, we went to having a distribution chain. I couldn’t really believe it. Both Dale and I were still students at the time.

We launched the first issue in March 2003 at a local pub with readings and live music. There were queues on the street to get in. Someone asked: “when is Issue Two coming out?” Dale and I were so wrapped up in publishing the first issue, we didn’t even think further ahead, so on the spot the magazine became quarterly. I said that the next edition would be out in May. Just like that we had a production schedule.

However, we still needed to finish our degrees. We had to think about finding jobs and our future. By the time we graduated the magazine was on Issue Three, and things were going well. We both got jobs at a local college and worked on the magazine on nights and weekends for a few years. It was incredibly demanding, and I suppose at many points, we could have given up. But I couldn’t give up. I just couldn’t let Aesthetica go. I loved it too much. I was encouraged by the dream of it becoming something much bigger.

In June 2005, both Dale and I took a week off of work to focus exclusively on the magazine. I was surprised by how much work we got through. I started to think about what we could do if we had more time to work on the publication. In July 2005, we decided to leave our jobs to give it one year. We got our first office later that year. It was kitted out with desks, chairs and computers that came from freecycle. It was small – two metres wide by four metres long. That little room was our world. That first year, we worked every day apart from Christmas Day and New Year’s Day – 363 days in total. Each day brought a mini victory and a new lesson.

The amount of self-determination and belief required was incomprehensible. At that time, we were too “northern” for anyone in London, and in the north we “weren’t focused enough on the north” to be northern. It was hard for people to comprehend that we wanted to be a national and international art magazine that was not based in a capital city. The world was a lot smaller then, and it was hard for someone to imagine you as national, yet based in Yorkshire. It would take at least another five years for us to transcend these labels.

A big change came in November 2006 when I won the Young Business Entrepreneur of the Year Award. It was good timing because – prior to winning – we were seriously considering relocating to the Old Truman Brewery on Brick Lane. We thought we had to be in London to be national, and that we needed to attend every opening at every gallery that we possibly could. It was a notion, not the reality. From the award we attracted a lot of attention from people outside the sector and were offered Grade A office accommodation in York at a fraction of the cost. We hired our first employee in January 2007 and then things really started moving. We were still working long hours (60 per week) and not taking many holidays, but we were building something. We were excited and this enthusiasm kept us going.

We obtained national distribution through WH Smith in 2007 and that was a real game-changer. The magazine was truly national, and this meant that we could push advertising and subscriptions. A further key moment was gaining international distribution in 2009 to 20 countries. It was amazing to have people saying they can get the magazine in Stock-

holm, Seoul, Auckland, Los Angeles, Austin, New York and many places in between. It was incredible to think of something we produced being stocked around the world.

As the magazine’s readership was growing, our editorial focus was changing. We needed to represent progression. For me, the magazine had to be a catalyst of debate, discussion and change. We needed to look at artists who were discussing the world’s most pressing issues through the lens of culture. In doing so, there wasn’t a huge amount of space for new talent, and that didn’t sit right with us. We started with this in mind, and it was in my blood, so we launched the Aesthetica Art Prize and the Aesthetica Creative Writing Award.

Initially, the winning works were published in one anthology in December each year – a showcase of new talent – but then in 2012 we split them into two books, an exhibition and different awards. I was pleased that we were able to become the home of new talent through these awards and that we still provided opportunities and entry points into the sector. I know first-hand how hard it is to get into this world and part of our wider goals are to ensure that we are a platform for new voices. These two awards have gone on to become springboards for some of the world’s most innovative practitioners and I’m proud of the role that we have played in developing numerous careers in the creative sector.

Another big moment for us was launching the Aesthetica Film Festival. There is so much to unpack here, I could write another article (or even a book) on how it came into being. In December 2010, we published a DVD of short films with the Christmas edition of the magazine. This was transformational. We had an open call for new films and received just under 1,000 films. However, a DVD was only two hours long, so pretty much everyone was rejected. It was awful. I felt like I had let all of these talented people down. In January 2011, I was invited to BAFTA Piccadilly to give a talk with filmmakers about Aesthetica Magazine, but at the end of the talk there were at least 40 people waiting to speak with me and they had all been rejected from the DVD. I realised then and there that I had a bigger responsibility and that if I was going to do this, I would have to find a different output entirely.

In the two hours it takes to get from London to York, I mapped out what a festival would look like in the city; it was about taking in everything that York has to offer – all the history and culture merged with cutting-edge contemporary cinema. There had never been a film festival here before, so on a local level, it was difficult to explain the idea. This was also the year that the UK Film Council was disbanding, and the world was still gripped by the 2008 financial crisis. I was advised not to do this. I didn’t listen. We had the first festival in November 2011, and it nearly killed us. We’d never worked so hard. It was something else entirely – a whole new level of busy. We had so much to learn. Fast-forward to 2020, the festival celebrated its 10th anniversary and is now considered one of key British festivals for new talent. We are making a valuable contribution towards sector growth.

In many ways, that summarises everything that we do at Aesthetica – daring to do something different, being your own person and pushing yourself hard. Celebrating 100 issues is a huge milestone for us. I was just 23 when we started this adventure. It has been 18 years and I am still enthusiastic about every day and what we will do next on this journey. Thank you to everyone who has been involved over the years. In many ways, we have grown up together.

Right: Water from the Co-Existe series. Imagery and 3D Development by Six N. Five. Photography by Cody Cobb. Concept by Willett.

Words Cherie Federico

Celebrate the launch of Aesthetica Issue 100 at the virtual Future Now Symposium, 28 April - 1 May.

aestheticamagazine. com/future-nowsymposium-2021/