Weekend Hashtag Project: #WHPsayhitothewater

(This interview was conducted in Portuguese.)

Weekend Hashtag Project is a series featuring designated themes and hashtags chosen by Instagram’s Community Team. For a chance to be featured on the Instagram blog, follow @instagram and look for a post announcing the weekend’s project every Friday.

The goal this weekend is to make photos that creatively capture your own reflection in the water. Our inspiration for the challenge comes from Brazilian photographer César Ovalle (@cesinha), who created the #sayhitothewater hashtag. For César, this hashtag was a way to break away from his usual photographic style and connect with his community on a more personal level. “Since I rarely share photographs of myself on Instagram, this was a way to say, ‘Hi, this is me. I exist,’” he laughs. Fascinated by the natural mirrors that often emerge from urban puddles in his hometown of São Paulo, César can often be found searching for the perfect reflection after a big downpour. “The photos usually happen after rain comes through the city,” he explains. But rain or shine, César’s inspiration to make photographs comes from everyday life. “I try to photograph daily scenes with a different perspective, bringing out what is interesting or beautiful, things that others might find ugly or nothing special. The intent is always to surprise people, to try to get them to see things in a different way, be it through a simple portrait or an interesting architectural shape.” Some tips to get you started:

• Make sure to look beyond the puddle and get creative about where you might find interesting reflections. If you are in a dry area, fountains, glass and swimming pools can all reveal natural mirrors.
• Greetings come in many shapes and forms. Be bold when it comes to striking a pose with your hands, legs and feet. “Doing something unconventional is always worth a try,” suggests César.
• Focus on reflections that have interesting backgrounds but are not too polluted.
• Make sure the surface beneath the water is clean. If it’s too dirty, it can damage the end result.
• Pay attention to your style. “Wear interesting shoes,” encourages César.

PROJECT RULES: Please add the #WHPsayhitothewater hashtag only to photos taken over this weekend and only submit your own photographs to the project. Any tagged image taken over the weekend is eligible to be featured Monday morning.

@sabeenu’s Paper Typography Brings Letters to Life

To see more of Sabeena’s paper typography, follow @sabeenu on Instagram.

When Sabeena Karnik (@sabeenu) started making alphabet letters out of paper, she had no idea her creations would someday appear on billboards and the covers of magazines. “I started doing paper typography by accident,” says the 32-year-old artist from Mumbai, India. “Since I was always making things out of paper, one day I decided to combine it with my love of type and created the entire alphabet series.”

As a paper typographer, Sabeena takes inspiration from a vivid palette of complementary colors and her daily ritual of drawing letterforms by hand. “Every design starts with an idea in its tiniest form as a sketch,” she explains. Once she decides on the design, Sabeena brings the letters to life with strips of colored paper and glue. “The paper speaks through the type it creates,” she adds. “The versatile letter ‘S’ is never easy to make, but it is my favorite to create.”

Sabeena now has big aspirations for the future, such as exhibiting her work and engaging in larger projects that combine type designs with abstract art. “Every step is a discovery of new things, and this profession has taught me a lot about paper — its strengths and limitations, as well as my own,” she says. “It’s very fragile and has to be treated with care and love.”

My (Dorky) Life in Color, by @mylifeaseva

For more bright, fun moments from Eva’s life, follow @mylifeaseva on Instagram.

“#hellomynameis is Eva Gutowski (@mylifeaseva). I am a third-year college student from Orange County, California. When I got to college, I started making videos on my dad’s old Canon camera and posting them to Facebook so that my friends from high school could see them. Through that, I decided to start a blog. And then I started posting videos on YouTube — which grew an audience super quickly. But Instagram is where you see my personality off camera: where my followers can find out what photos I like, what colors I like, what clothes I wear and what I’m doing every day. It sounds cheesy, but it’s all about my theme. There’s just an explosion of color, and there’s so much to look at.

I want to be known as a person who accepts herself for being who she really is, and not changing that for anyone. If you knew me back in high school, you would know that I’m the same exact person — just with better eyebrows! I’ve always kind of accepted the fact that I am a total dork who makes way too many SpongeBob references. Figuring out that there are millions of people out there who love that has helped me embrace myself even more. There’s so much acceptance on the Internet. You just have to open yourself up to find it.”

Keep On Rockin’ in the Free World: The Stylings of @nardwuar

To see more of Nardwuar’s interviews and style, check out @nardwuar on Instagram. For more music stories, head to @music.

Universities, take note: If you’re looking to prep the next generation of great reporters, introduce them to Nardwuar the Human Serviette (@nardwuar). At 47, the Vancouver-based radio host and on-air personality is the world’s most sincere, enthusiastic and fashion-forward music journalist. And he has simple advice for anyone who wants to conduct great interviews: Do your research.

For Nardwuar, that means going online or even flipping through vintage publications to find out exactly what holds sentimental value to his subjects. Based on his findings, he collects a stack of pop artifacts to present to them.

“People are too lazy to find that information. They don’t want to take that extra step,” Nardwuar says, over the phone from Canada. “But I just think, what the hell? You might as well do it. If I can do an interview, anybody can.”

Pharrell (@pharrell) called Nardwuar’s interview “one of the most impressive” he’d ever experienced after the journalist pulled out one of the beat-maker’s favorite albums, Carl Sagan’s The Music of the Cosmos, on vinyl. The rapper Tyler, the Creator (@feliciathegoat) let out a trail of expletives when Nardwuar revealed that he knew Tyler’s mom was half-Canadian. And, the moment Nardwuar gave a rare issue of the fanzine Rocktober to Questlove (@questlove), the Roots drummer wondered aloud whether the man could have found Bin Laden before SEAL Team 6 did.

“I try to zero in on stuff people haven’t asked,” he says. “Maybe they thought, Oh, I am doing an interview with Pharrell, he’s been asked everything, what’s the point of trying to find new stuff? I guess I was able to break through that barrier because people had given up to find different questions.”

**

Nardwuar (born John Ruskin) is easy to spot. He is a walking, talking meme. Not only does he arrive with his gifts, he shows up in his standard outfit — red plaid pants, a multicolored sweatshirt and a tartan hat — a style that has been described as both an “exploded 1970s Soviet golf catalog” and “a sartorial no-man’s-land between first-wave punk and PGA Tour.” He also finishes every interview with a sign-off message –– “Rockin’ in the Free World,” a nod to Neil Young’s 1989 democratic anthem, and the end of the “Shave and a Haircut” jingle.

“I always looked to bands that dressed cool,” he says, about his style inspirations. “Like The Cramps, they always had a cool sense of style. And Poison Ivy, she looked pretty amazing. Even Jello by Biafra, of the Dead Kennedys, he had weird T-shirts. So I guess it was just looking at records and seeing what people are wearing and then you see it in the store and going, Oh, I will try to get that.”

Nardwuar got the tartan from his godmother, replacing a toque Sebastian Bach stole from him during a 1994 interview. The Skid Row lead singer later destroyed the only evidence of the crime — a VHS tape — because, Nardwuar says, Sebastian thought he was mocking him. Other artists thought they were being pranked by Nardwuar too. During a conversation with Blur, the band’s bassist Dave Rowntree stole Nardwuar’s hat and glasses. While interviewing Sonic Youth, guitarist Lee Ranaldo broke a rare 7-inch record the journalist had presented him.

“As long as the video camera is capturing what’s going on, I will be OK,” says Nardwuar, about these more aggressive moments. “Right now there’s no evidence of [the Sebastian Bach or Skid Row] interviews because they thought I was making fun of them, so they destroyed [the tapes]. There are situations where it does get scary and it does get intense. However, I am not scared if someone is documenting it.”

Nardwuar has been taping his interviews since high school. He remembers the date of his first one: September 26, 1985. He was president of his school’s student council, and therefore in charge of getting a band to play the school dance. He picked a group called Poisoned (not to be confused with hair metal gods Poison), fronted by Canadian punk rocker Art Bergmann. To mark the occasion, Nardwuar decided to ask Art a few questions. Two years later, Nardwuar landed his own local radio show at the University of British Columbia, which still broadcasts to this day.

“I tried to be an engineer and an accountant, but I just gravitated toward the radio station,” says Nardwuar, who also plays keyboard in his band The Evaporators. “I didn’t really think of pursuing anything. I am still trying to get to the top of the rock pile myself. I still have a long way to go. But it was fun to be able to live out these fantasies of being on the radio. I still can’t believe I have a radio show. People can actually hear me on the radio!”

Nardwuar would eventually get his chance to shine on television, with a freelance gig on Much Music in Canada. By then he had already become something of a cult favorite in his home country. What really propelled him to fame was the rise of the Internet, where people were able to view his work whenever they wanted. Still, he’s quick to remind you that not every interview he conducts is as revelatory as the ones with Pharrell, Questlove or Drake. Sometimes the conversations click, sometimes they don’t. He’s just there to try to make the discussion interesting.

“I still feel like I am doing my first interview,” he says. “I think that’s what makes me want to strike and find information on people, because a lot of times people show up to radio shows or video interviews, they think they know it all, and because they think they know it all, the interview turns out boring … Most of the time it’s pretty straightforward. I just want to have a fun conversation with somebody.”

—Instagram @music

#whereartthou with @marcquinnart’s “The Toxic Sublime” at @whitecubeofficial

For more photos and videos of “The Toxic Sublime,” explore the #emptywhitecube hashtag and follow @marcquinnart and @whitecubeofficial on Instagram.

An early morning walk on the beach was Marc Quinn’s (@marcquinnart) inspiration for his new show “The Toxic Sublime.” But the subject of this week’s #whereartthou, on view at White Cube (@whitecubeofficial) in London until September 13, is a fresh take on a classic subject.

“I was struck by how water is like the blood of the world, connecting every country in oceans and rivers like arteries, then into the veins a capillary system of drains, taps, showers, baths and ourselves,” says Marc, whose show includes large paintings that have the wear and tear of found objects as well as stainless steel sculptures of shell fragments shaped by the sea. “It seemed to be a really good subject for a body of work in our age of environmental uncertainty.”

“The Toxic Sublime” includes paintings that begin as a photograph of the sunrise over the Atlantic Ocean. “I print that image onto a piece of canvas,” Marc says. “I scrape lines into it, perhaps like the lines of a map, or flight paths, or electric wires, then tape it up with the same aluminum tape they use to fix cracks on airplanes.”

After obscuring most of the photograph with spray paint, Marc takes each painting onto the street outside his studio, then grinds the texture of pavement and manhole covers into the work. “The canvas is then stuck to a sheet of aluminum which I wrestle with, kick and fold to achieve the shape I want,” he says. “The ultimate goal would be if the work appeared to be more like the back of an old truck, or a piece of old airplane fuselage, rather than an artwork made by an artist.”

Sending Letters of Beauty with #envelope_series

For more from Anna’s envelope series, follow @annaremarchuk and browse the #envelope_series hashtag on Instagram.

Not long after Kiev-based photographer Anna Remarchuk (@annaremarchuk) found a bunch of old envelopes that belonged to her great-grandfather, she received a gift of snowdrops in the post. “At the table there were those envelopes. I saw them together and decided to make a photo,” she says. The simple combination gave birth to a new creative project — the #envelope_series.

Anna buys the flowers or receives them as gifts, then looks at the colors and tones of the envelope paper and the natural beauty of the flowers before shooting her pairings on her phone. “During the process I forget about all, because I am in love with what I do,” she says. “I want my followers to be able to understand my flowers’ message without any words.”

From the Midwest to the Middle East with Photojournalist @alexkpotter

To see more photographs by Alex, follow @alexkpotter on Instagram.

As a nursing student from a small town in the American Midwest, Alex Potter (@alexkpotter) might not have imagined living through airstrikes and civil war in the Middle East. But a university trip to Jordan sparked an interest in learning Arabic and led her to Yemen, where she now, at the age of 25, works as a freelance photographer and writer. In Alex’s alternate life during her occasional visits to the United States, she still works stints as a registered nurse.

Alex describes her path and her professions:

“There is an expression here that says, ‘If time doesn’t teach you, Yemen will.’ And taught me it has. Everyone who comes here learns so much about themselves, the power of faith, family, community and politics — and the good and bad that goes along with all of those. Yemen mostly has two kinds of journalists that inhabit it — those who come for a week, and those who come for life.

Life isn’t always enjoyable. Prices have doubled, there is no petrol (lines are days long). Many families are in the line of fire and can’t even afford or access their next meal. Most places in the country have no electricity, so people must rely on generators (for which there is no petrol) and solar panels (which are thousands of dollars). My neighbors burn wood for cooking, and everyone (myself included) has to carry buckets of water from public tanks donated by philanthropic Yemenis. Ramadan just finished, and many people can’t afford gifts for their children for Eid, much less the elaborate celebrations usually put on. Yet amid the sounds of airstrikes and long lines for waiting for petrol, people do their best to make the situation as normal as possible: sharing food, recycling gifts and spending time together.

As far as working here, I have found it the easiest place I have ever worked, especially as a woman. I dress like a local to respect the culture and speak the local dialect, so that helps, but everyone wants their photo taken all the time. Usually, my biggest problem is not enough memory in my camera! Yemenis are so welcoming and loving, and really do care about foreigners living in their midst — as long as you respect them first. As a foreign woman, as in much of the Muslim world, I have access to all parts of society. This has changed a bit with the war — people are more wary about photography, so I just have to do a bit more explaining. Logistically, I now have many more safety concerns to take in hand — planning, security, accountability, et cetera, but no more than in any other conflict zone or unstable region.

I go back to Minnesota to do some nursing work, center myself and see family and friends. Personal relationships are important to me, and it’s difficult but essential to stay connected to those who know me the best, especially in this line of work.”

Why So Serious? For Toro y Moi (@lukespukashells), It’s More Fun to Be Funky

To see more fun from Toro y Moi, check out @lukespukashells on Instagram. For more music stories, head to @music.

Chaz Bundick (@lukespukashells) has an alter ego — and he’s not hard to spot. He wears sunglasses, a black do-rag, a pink cowboy hat and an extremely short psychedelic robe that shows off his legs.

“Chaz would never do that, but Internet Chaz would,” says the 28-year-old musician who’s better known as Toro y Moi. “I think as a musician, showing a humorous side of you, whether it’s making a funny voice on a recording or taking a funny photo, shows that you’re a little bit more human. If people think you take yourself too seriously, it’s going to push them away because they can’t relate to you.”

Being relatable does not seem to be an issue. Today, Chaz is drinking coffee, taking photos and walking around his current neighborhood in Berkeley, California. While shooting different objects and patterns — stacks of furniture, zigzagging shadows, colorful doorways — he discusses his life in music and background in graphic design. After growing up in South Carolina, Chaz went to school for the latter, thanks to encouragement from a high school teacher. He compares the experience to that of Mason Jr.’s, the protagonist of the movie Boyhood.

“I felt that movie was all about me,” says Chaz, while snapping a pic of some green school chairs against a pink wall. “My family life was pretty stable, but I was the angsty art-punk kid in South Carolina. It’s nice to have teachers like that who are still aware that the kids they are teaching are from small towns and need some inspiration.”

Chaz would eventually find more creative outlets in photography and, of course, music, as Toro y Moi. The group began as more of a one-man bedroom project until expanding into a full-fledged, successful touring outfit. Later, he would launch a separate dance-focused endeavour on the side known as Les Sins. Though Toro y Moi takes up the most time — he writes, records and produces most of it on his own, and then performs it with a group of musician friends — Chaz always finds moments to draw and take pictures.

“I think on the whole I am looking for different materials, and it seems to me the more man-made it is the more interesting it is to me,” he says, about his photo work, while stopping to admire the outdoor setup of a local party store. “See,” he says, pointing to the display, “I like how the plastic in the trees makes the reflection work on top of the vinyl confetti. It’s just so many different layers of image.”

Like most people who draw, Chaz began when he was young. But he never jumped all the way into illustration — he prefers to keep things to a simple pattern then blows them up on a shirt or print – or, for that matter, an album cover.

“I try to draw whenever I can’t do music,” he says. “I wouldn’t mind designing every aspect of my world. That would be pretty cool. I think inspiration for me is the Vignelli’s. They were husband-and-wife designers. They did the New York City subway design. The husband passed away already. They designed every single thing they owned and wore. And that’s what I want to do. It’s like a more highbrow version of submerging yourself. The stuff they made wasn’t crazy expensive, their aesthetic and bar was very high.”

Until then, Chaz will have to complete the tricky goal of progressing as an artist while also creating things that feel relatable and exciting. (Keeping things humorous certainly helps; take, for instance, his Instagram user name, @lukespukashells, which was inspired by a line uttered by Mischa Barton in the show The O.C.). Above all, he knows you can’t be afraid to try new things.

“It’s nice to just constantly keep making stuff,” says Chaz, with a camera in his hand, “no matter how much or how far it goes.”

—Instagram @music

@muenchmax: Connecting Sweeping Landscapes Through a Melody of Line and Color

To see more of Max’s captivating landscape photography, follow @muenchmax on Instagram.

(This interview was conducted in German.)

A gentle melody echoes across the still, crisp landscapes of German photographer and pianist Maximilian Münch (@muenchmax) and, if you look and listen closely, you can almost hear it. In a gallery as carefully composed as a musical arrangement, the 23-year-old intentionally uses line and color to connect each spectacular vista: rock spurs point toward the horizon in an adjacent image, and treetops melt into a lake’s surface in another. Based in Berlin, but frequently traveling to European destinations and abroad, Max says, “With every picture I put down a small composition on paper, a new note that will somehow lead me to the next — wherever this may be.”

Capturing Brazilian Sounds with @brasilmostratuacapa

To see more of Layana and Antônio’s vinyl recreations, follow @brasilmostratuacapa on Instagram. For more Brazil stories, check out @instagrambrasil.

(This interview was conducted in Portuguese.)

Layana Leonardo (@layleonardo) and Antônio Adriano (@antonyadriano) originally set out to recreate Brazilian vinyl records through portrait photography. “But then, we realized we could do something more relevant, something where other people might even participate,” says Antônio. Layana’s passion for music and Antônio’s love for photography inspired them to create @brasilmostratucapa, a project where they use Brazilian album covers as faces and also feature submissions from the #sleeveface hashtag. Their creative process is very collaborative: “To portray the cover, we try to find the perfect clothing and venue to take the photographs.” From the beginning, paying homage to Brazilian sounds and visuals was very important. “When we started out, the #sleeveface hashtag was already really popular, but there were almost no photos of Brazilian records,” says Layana, who describes herself as totally addicted to Brazilian music, from the old to the new. “I have a lot of vinyl records, and most of them are Brazilian. It’s very hard to resist nice vinyl records and their beautiful album covers. It really is an addiction!”