Kristen Sinclair

Fiona McDonnell’s work is all over Belfast. From the Ulster Sports Club to the Sunflower bar to the clothing of passers-by, you’ve probably seen it without even realising. Fiona designs posters, prints, stickers, T-shirts and album sleeves – her work reaches all corners of the city’s creative scene and beyond. Think bright colours, eye-catching text and often political subject matter with her signature injection of colour, humour and flair. The illustrator’s digital brush has brought dancing horses to life for local clubbing institution Ponyhawke and made Ian Paisley and Gerry Adams a little friendlier than we remember them. Her work provides a welcome splash of brightness to the often dreary place we call home. “I love an obnoxiously bright colour palette! I use very limited colour palettes and tend to pick between two to five set complementary colours. It’s funny because in real life I’m known for wearing all black, I feel like all my love for colour is expressed through my illustrat...

On synesthesia, Jean-Michel Basquiat and working with SOAK... exclusively in Jack's words. Who are you and what do you do? My name is Jack Coulter. I am an abstract expressionist artist from Belfast, born in 1994. Why do you do what you do? Where do you draw inspiration for your work? Growing up as a child, I was heavily exposed to abstract art. My aunt Christine was my greatest influence - she was an abstract printmaker. My mum had her prints exhibited in every room of my house - they are breathtaking compositions. I was in awe of her work - I could 'hear' her paintings. Later in life, I became aware that I was born with synesthesia. To have her embrace my artwork from an early age was vital; young minds are brittle - disbelief can arise from just one individual's opinion. Whilst living in Germany, she once had dinner with Georg Baselitz - he was lucky to have met her. She always believed in me, even when no one else did. She sadly passed away the day befor...

Source: fatgirlscanruntoo.ca Recently I asked my Mum if she wanted to have my copy of Elle as I’d finished reading it, and she took me up on the offer. Sometime later, getting into her car, I found it dog-eared and tossed onto the back seat. Being the complete neat freak that I am, I wondered how she could possibly have chucked it away like that, letting the edges of the pages tear and the covers bend. It cost a whole four pounds after all. The now slightly warped face of Kim Kardashian pouted up at me from the glossy cover. And this wasn’t a one-off encounter with a discarded magazine; battered, years-old stacks of issues of hairdressing periodicals and stereotypical women’s weeklies adorn the coffee tables of salons, waiting rooms and even houses worldwide. It has become a regular occurrence to be faced with magazines bearing a crisis-ridden Katie Price two husbands and four boob jobs ago whilst waiting to see the dentist. The magazine is a bit of a diminishing art form, ...