Mavis Staples has announced a new solo album, Sad and Beautiful World, arriving on November 7. Produced by Brad Cook, it’s a covers album that finds the multigenerational legend taking on songs by Leonard Cohen, Curtis Mayfield, Tom Waits, Mahalia Jackson, Sparklehorse, Gillian Welch, and Eddie Hinton. Collaborators on the LP include MJ Lenderman, Waxahatchee’s Katie Crutchfield, Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, Bonnie Raitt, Jeff Tweedy, Buddy Guy, Derek Trucks, Iron and Wine’s Sam Beam, the Drive-By Truckers’ Patterson Hood, the Indigo Girls’ Amy Ray, Anjimile, and Kara Jackson.
Today, Staples has shared a gorgeously moving rendition of Kevin Morby’s ‘Beautiful Strangers’, which was originally released in 2016 as a tribute to the victims of the Orlando Pulse shooting. The cover features electric guitars from MJ Lenderman and Staples’ bandleader Rick Holmstrom, Brad Cook on vibraphone, his brother Phil on piano, and Nathaniel Rateliff and Tré Burt on backup vocals.
“It isn’t easy to put into words what it feels like having one of the best, most important vocalists and cultural figures of both the 20th and 21st century sing one of my songs,” Morby shared. “But hearing Mavis sing ‘Beautiful Strangers’ is hands down the greatest moment and highest honor of my career. Far beyond any kind of accolade or acclaim — having one of my biggest heroes sing something I wrote is the most validating and flattering thing that could ever happen to me as a songwriter and person. Thank you, Mavis. Mavis also wields that extremely rare power to take a song somebody else wrote and make it entirely her own. As the person who penned ‘Beautiful Strangers’, I feel I have every right to say: her version is better.”
Back in June, Staples shared her version of Frank Ocean’s ‘Godspeed’, which appears on the new LP.
Sad and Beautiful World Cover Artwork:
Sad and Beautiful World Tracklist:
1. Chicago
2. Beautiful Strangers
3. Sad And Beautiful World
4. Human Mind
5. Hard Times
6. Godspeed
7. We Got To Have Peace
8. Anthem
9. Satisfied Mind
10. Everybody Needs Love
Katie Stelmanis, aka Austra, has announced her first album since 2020’s HiRUDiN. It’s called Chin Up Buttercup, and it’s set to arrive on November 14 via Domino. Stelmanis co-produced the record with Kieran Adams, drawing inspiration from the Eurodance sound of Madonna’s Ray of Light, and you can hear that reverberating through the first single ‘Math Equation’. Check it out and find the album cover and tracklist below.
According to Stelmanis, Chin Up Buttercup is about “the alienating feeling of being heartbroken in a world that’s awkward and inconvenienced by your pain.” She explained, “I was completely blindsided … the person I loved woke up one day, told me she wasn’t happy, and I basically never saw her again.”
Chin Up Buttercup Cover Artwork:
Chin Up Buttercup Tracklist:
1. Amnesia
2. Math Equation
3. Siren Song
4. Chin Up Buttercup
5. Fallen Cloud
6. Blindsided
7. Think Twice
8. Look Me in the Eye
9. The Hopefulness of Dawn
10. Good Riddance
28 years after its release, Radiohead’s ‘Let Down’ has entered the Billboard Hot 100 at No. 91. The OK Computer track marks the band’s fourth entry on the Hot 100 after ‘Creep’ in 1993, ‘High and Dry’ in 1996, and ‘Nude’ in 2008.
Though the song was included in the season one finale of The Bear three years ago, it more recently has experienced a viral resurgence on TikTok thanks to its crushing emotional weight.
Since forming a new business entity back in March, Radiohead surprise-released a live album, Hail to the Thief (Live Recordings 2003-2009), earlier this month. Their last album remains 2016’s A Moon Shaped Pool.
On the fantastic lead single from Geese’s upcoming album, Getting Killed, Cameron Winter’s protagonist gloriously proclaimed that if you want him to pay his taxes, you’re gonna have to nail him down. On their latest track, ‘100 Horses’, he proclaims, “There is only dance music in times of war.” It’s apocalyptic dance music in the vein of Water From Your Eyes’ recently-unveiled It’s a Beautiful Place, but Geese’s delivery has its own absurdist bent, not to mention Winter’s beguiling theatrics. Listen to ‘100 Horses’ below, where I have also chosen to embed a video of horses – not quite so many – hanging out with actual geese. You’re welcome.
Spoon are back. ‘Chateau Blues’ and ‘Guess I’m Fallin in Love’, which were recorded this summer in Austin with producer Justin Meldal-Johnsen, mark the band’s first new music since 2022’s Lucifer on the Sofa. The A-side is groovy and full of swagger, while the latter is darker and grittier. Take a listen below.
“We started work on an album this year and the way that normally goes, we write, we rehearse, we record, we mix, we get it all wrapped up tightly and then start putting songs out into the world,” Britt Daniel explained in a press release. “But as we finished up the first two songs for the LP, it crossed somebody’s mind and eventually all of ours that these two really should come out now. Let’s get them out there. And so here they are today, ‘Chateau Blues’ and ‘Guess I’m Fallin In Love’. Two new tunes with distinct personalities that were summoned into the world the past few months in Austin TX and Providence RI. It’s a big day all around: tonight we kick off our first tour in a while in Santa Ana, and tomorrow we start up our run with the Pixies — let’s face it, one of theee great bands of all TIMES. A band that some may know has long been near and dear to me. It’s a real pleasure and we’re real happy to be getting back into gig world for a sec. See you down front.”
It’s fitting that my copy of Austyn Wohlers’ Hothouse Bloom showed up at my doorstep sopping wet, dripping with the rain of a recent thunderstorm. The debut novel, where a young woman leaves a city and her painting career after an undetailed event to care for her grandfather’s apple orchard, is uniquely concerned with the totality of nature. Anna not only wants to live in the orchard, but become it; she hopes to graft her consciousness onto the “ancient, colossal being” of the land. When a neighbor laments the repetition of upkeep tasks (weeding, watering, etc.), Anna says that’s what she’s after — “a certain absolute stillness of psyche, branches like extensions of her fingers, roots like blood vessels. To build up a world from a few repeated actions.”
These cosmic ideas take a while to emerge — from its first 30 or so pages, you’d get the wrong idea about what Hothouse Bloom is about. A sad girl tries to find herself via soft sentences about the enormity of nature and art. But thankfully, the novel is a grower. Anna studies the orchard but realizes it’s better to be in nature, hair in the dirt and the leaves. She marvels at the stars in the sky and often cries from happiness, passing the time by working with the earth in her hands. “Whenever a breeze reached her she felt her body reduce itself to something purely organic,” Wohlers writes. Suddenly the old world, with its beautiful books and meaningful conversations, pale in comparison to the feeling of lying between trees for hours.
She wishes to share this secret, that of “the submission to something outside the bounds of time,” and somewhat delusionally invites an old friend, Jan, to come stay and help out when the time comes. He’s a man who showed her “how to take yourself seriously as an artist even when faced with the vast nothing,” and feels she ought to repay the favor by broadening his consciousness. Anna is lonely; she has two bridges to the outside world, her dogs Midge and Pell, but they don’t talk back, after all. Neither do the trees.
Initially his presence is bothersome; when he steps on the land, Anna feels it on her own face. Living alone for weeks has heightened her mind, truly connecting her to the roots of agriculture, bringing her back to a more pure way of living, even if her thoughts have taken on the cadence of someone whose recent camping trip redefines their personality. Jan’s passions (he’s writing a book about a painter) seem flimsy in comparison to her earthy, muscling work. “Even better than making something is living something,” she tells him, guru-like.
But her pretentiousness is not without reason. Even though Jan interprets her brisk exit from art as a failure or an abrupt change in perspective, she’s realized that her goal — to “understand and process the world without language” — can be achieved far more easily here than in a cramped apartment with some paintbrushes. When he tells her to write this thought down, it’s clear he just doesn’t get it. Writing that, or anything down, would dilute the point. Words can’t capture what she feels. Anna doesn’t exist for art any more, but for her body that’s melting into the orchard. At one point, she chastises herself for not treating people like how she treats apples — that being with kindness. “Jan knows nothing of the inhuman anonymity with which I’m living,” she thinks. “How deliberately I’m annihilating.”
But something more insidious sneaks up on Anna — profit. The apples are starting to bloom, and now she needs workers to help her manage. She hires a meek boy and an experienced farmhand after placing an advertisement in the paper, along with a pomologist that diagnoses her apples’ new infections. In Anna’s “Index of Ruin,” Wohlers writes gracefully of nature’s wrath: “two sleek wasps” make an apple into “their cave”; another with “brown bumps with black pinpricks in their center like a swollen wound”; one rotted black has “gray warping concentric circles.” The apples “[were] alive and wet with bugs and fungus… cognizant.” It’s okay, she reminds herself, throwing away bundles of fruit, “Not everything is about money. Some things are about love.”
But she doesn’t remember her own advice. She becomes a landlord, property owner, a boss, hardening into a personality type she fled. She penny-pinches and nags, mood made worse by a cider Jan starts making by cutting rot off unusable apples and mashing them. She’s humiliated at the farmer’s market by Pleasant Hill Orchard, a jolly competitor who has diversified their product line with apple butters, vinegars, fruit jams, delightfully branded tote bags. She advertises pathetically and imagines the whole thing as sabotage. A seller trots over to introduce herself; irritated that this blocks the view, Anna nearly tells her to fuck off. Anna-as-earth-mother would be terrified by Anna-as-merchant, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Enlightenment and breeze-soaked days are traded for nights staring at the computer, eyes burning with dollar-ridden spreadsheets.
Jan’s interiority irritates Anna; Anna’s escapism irks Jan. None of the apples are selling, and on top of it all, she has to pay her workers for their time; one of them’s being greedy by billing her for help with house construction (she begrudgingly gives it over). The outside world isn’t seeming too bad (an escape from her escape); she pretends like the orchard is a tucked-away reality, but you can hear the car noises and smell the cigarette smoke even amongst the trees, Jan notes. It might not be too special after all. “There was life all around Anna trying to get in and it was like she didn’t know what to do with it,” he thinks.
Wohlers spears capitalism with, thankfully, not too much force, her character study astute and sharp. Anna turns exploitative just as the apples turn black with rot, inadequate care, or maybe, they pick up on the vibrations of her angst. Escape society only to be burdened by the demands of the marketplace — I’d be irritated too. Anna’s grief is familiar to anyone who has enjoyed a tech-free walk in nature while also itching for their phone. You’ll never see an apple the same way again after Hothouse Bloom — someone could have lost herself while picking it.
From the gritty pulse of GTA San Andreas radio stations to the anthems that defined endless FIFA summers, music has always been more than a backdrop to play. It has been the heartbeat of digital culture, turning pixels into memories and online spaces into communities.
In 2025, that connection runs deeper than ever, extending into the iGaming world as well. Platforms like https://Bigclash.com/nz/ and the spaces of Bigclash Casino Online are part of that same cultural current, blending competitive play with soundscapes that make every moment feel alive. It is no longer just about what you are playing. It is about the atmosphere, the timing and the sense that you are sharing a moment that will stay with you.
When music became more than background noise
Think back to FIFA 12 and the way Avicii’s Levels defined a summer, or to tearing through Los Santos with Rage Against the Machine blasting from Radio X. These tracks were more than songs. They were timestamps, stitching themselves into your memory alongside the games you loved and the friends you played them with.
Music has a way of locking moments in place. The choral swell of the Halo theme still carries the weight of discovery for anyone who first powered up an Xbox in the early 2000s, just as Christopher Tin’s Baba Yetu for Civilization IV gave strategy players an anthem that blurred the line between game and art.
You can hear a similar approach at Bigclash Casino Online, where subtle audio layers — from a quiet hum during regular play to sharper cues in high-stakes moments — create a backdrop that adds depth without ever overwhelming the experience.
How sound defines play from sports to casinos
Games have always been about more than mechanics. They have been about the people in the room, even when that room is virtual. Sound ties those moments together, giving scattered players a shared sense of time and place while creating a powerful bond.
Think of the quiet pulse in a Fortnite lobby before a match. If you are a FIFA diehard, you know that buzz kicks in even earlier. The iconic “EA Sports – it’s in the game” fires up the adrenaline, your palms start to sweat and you are already flicking R2 drills to make sure you are sharp enough to roast your opponent when the whistle blows.
That sense of rhythm is also familiar to anyone who spends time in the iGaming world. Just as a stadium crowd builds anticipation before kickoff, well-timed audio cues in platforms like Bigclash Casino Online give every round a sense of momentum that keeps you engaged without ever feeling overwhelming.
From lobby beats to full-blown events
If the early years of gaming gave us iconic soundtracks, the last decade turned sound into spectacle. Fortnite raised the bar with its Astronomical concert, drawing millions into a world where music and play merged seamlessly.
GTA has been doing it for years with curated radio stations that shape how you experience every block of its virtual cities. And it was not just the music. The call-ins on GTA San Andreas’ WCTR were as hilarious as they were memorable, adding humor and personality that players still reference two decades later.
Essentially, what began as background noise has become a shared language, a reason to log in, watch and connect.
Again, that philosophy is echoed at Bigclash Casino Online, where subtle hums during steady play and an energetic swell in key moments give the platform its own rhythm and personality. It is a quiet layer, but it transforms gameplay into something that feels curated and personal.
The next wave: personalized soundscapes
The future of digital sound is personalization, and some of the biggest titles are already showing what is possible. Forza Horizon 5 exemplifies this shift, using granular synthesis and richly detailed recordings — from revving engines to ambient Mexican landscapes — to create audio that reacts in real time to every change in speed and environment. Its work even earned it the Game Awards’ Best Audio Design in 2021.
In the world of competitive play, Valorant introduced HRTF spatial audio in its 2021 v2.06 update, enabling players to detect enemy positions with greater precision through 3D audio cues.
VR platforms are experimenting too. Meta’s Horizon Worlds uses spatial audio that shifts as you move through virtual rooms, lending weight and direction to digital interactions. Creative hubs like Fortnite Creative are showing how shared playlists and custom audio can shape the atmosphere of a session and make online spaces feel more alive.
This is not about volume. It is about making sound feel alive, adapting to the pace of the moment and creating an invisible companion that responds to you and the energy of the room.
Why sound is the soul of digital spaces
What lingers from a night of digital play is rarely just the result on the screen. It is the feeling of being there, of sound carrying you through the ebb and flow of play, of being part of something that felt bigger than the game itself. In every corner of gaming — from FIFA playlists to GTA radio to iGaming platforms — sound has become more than something you hear. It is something you share, a feeling that stays with you.
At the forefront of visual communication in the arts, Nazlı Ercan, a distinguished Senior Designer at the Walker Art Center, recently discussed her intricate work in designing the visual identity for Alison O’Daniel’s seminal cinema residency, “Alison O’Daniel: Are You Listening?“
This multi-faceted program, running from March 2024 through June 2025, challenges conventional perceptions of sound and communication, a conceptual framework meticulously translated into visual design by Ercan. Her approach exemplifies how sophisticated design systems can enhance access and deepen engagement, particularly within the digital realm.
Alison O’Daniel, a d/Deaf/hard of hearing artist, utilizes film, sculpture, and performance to explore the multifaceted nature of hearing and understanding. Her residency at the Walker Cinema, which commenced with her debut feature film The Tuba Thieves, aims to redefine the cinematic experience by questioning, “What does a d/Deaf cinema sound like?”. This ambitious inquiry presented a unique design challenge that Ercan embraced with her characteristic thoughtfulness.
When asked about her connection to O’Daniel’s work, Ercan articulated her profound appreciation for the artist’s use of “absence—not as mere emptiness or void, but as an active, generative space that invites engagement.” Ercan elaborated, “She makes what is invisible or silent feel meaningful. The gaps in sound, the pauses in language, all serve as openings that ask the viewer to fill in meaning, to participate actively in the experience.” This philosophical alignment deeply informed Ercan’s design methodology, where the deliberate omission or withholding of elements becomes as communicative as their presence, challenging traditional sensory hierarchies.
Designing for a program centered on deafness and alternative hearing modalities prompted Ercan to innovate using visual cues rooted in everyday communication technology. Her response involved exploring the visual language of closed captioning. “I incorporated rectangular boxes around title lock-ups as a direct visual reference to captioning formats,” Ercan explained. Further, the animations for the program feature “flipping title cards reminiscent of analog clocks—silent yet rhythmic.” This ingenious visual rhythm suggests a pulse or beat without auditory input, allowing silence to convey its own form of “sound.” These design elements demonstrate Ercan’s mastery in creating a cohesive visual system that communicates a complex concept through subtle, digital-friendly means.
The deliberate and arresting choices in typography and color for the screenings’ visual identity and accompanying Instagram posts underscore Ercan’s strategic thinking in digital communication. She selected the typeface Topol for its distinctive letterforms, particularly its unique question mark and alternate glyphs, which infuse a playful yet sophisticated character. To enhance visual dynamism, Ercan alternated between all-caps and sentence case across layouts, creating movement within the typography itself. The color palette, carefully extracted from one of O’Daniel’s key works, was specifically adapted for optimal clarity and visibility on diverse social media platforms. “Balancing a reference to her aesthetic with the practical need for digital prominence was essential,” Ercan noted, emphasizing the intersection of artistic integrity and effective digital dissemination.
Ercan attributes the project’s success to the design system’s direct reflection of the program’s core concept: communicating sound through silence. The system’s flexibility and scalability—its ability to adapt to different films and texts without losing coherence—were also crucial factors. This adaptability is paramount for sustaining a strong identity across an evolving, multi-platform program.
Ultimately, Ercan aimed for visitors to recognize the program as more than just a series of film screenings. “I wanted the visitors to come away recognizing that this program was about far more than simply watching films—it was about rethinking how we perceived and processed experience,” she stated. Her design encourages audiences to engage with quiet moments and perceive communication beyond spoken language, fostering a heightened awareness of access, perception, and inclusion. This broader objective reflects Ercan’s commitment to design that serves a profound social and intellectual purpose.
Nazlı Ercan’s extensive career highlights her consistent ability to translate complex artistic and cultural narratives into compelling visual forms. As a senior designer at the Walker Art Center, she collaborates closely with curators on exhibition graphics, publications, and advertising, spanning both print and digital formats. Her impressive portfolio includes work for highly esteemed cultural and arts organizations such as the Carnegie Museum of Art, Columbia GSAPP, OMA New York, David Zwirner, and the Whitney Museum of American Art, among others.
In 2023, Ercan served as Design Director of The Brooklyn Rail, where she spearheaded the magazine’s editorial design and visual identity, further honing her expertise in fast-paced, multidisciplinary environments. Her work has garnered significant recognition, including a Silver award for the Whitney Biennial 2022 Brand from the New York Design Awards 2022 and an Artist Choice Grant for The Brooklyn Rail from the Ruth Awards. Notable career achievements include designing exhibition graphics and a catalog for “Kandis Williams: A Surface” at the Walker, developing visual identities for major exhibitions like “Sophie Calle: Overshare” and “This Must Be the Place,” and contributing to exhibitions for influential artists such as Pope.L and Madeline Hollander at the Whitney.
Beyond her acclaimed design practice, Ercan is deeply committed to arts education, serving as a guest critic and speaker at prestigious institutions including Yale, Princeton, Parsons, SVA, and Rutgers. A graduate of Princeton University with a degree in Art and Archaeology, her work consistently sits at the intersection of art, culture, and publishing, marked by a focus on clear visual language and thoughtful systems. Her innovative approach to the Alison O’Daniel residency exemplifies her profound impact on how audiences engage with contemporary art through the power of strategic visual design and the intelligent application of communication technology.
In a world grappling with the elusive nature of memory and the ever-evolving self, artist Can Yağız offers a profound and visceral artistic exploration, comparing the very essence of identity to the forgotten fragments found in an old coat pocket. Yağız’s evocative works, which delve into the materiality of everyday life, are set to be part of the highly anticipated “Conceptual Romance” group exhibition, opening at the Ely Center of Contemporary Art in New Haven on September 14, 2025.
For Yağız, the inspiration often begins with the seemingly mundane. “Similar to the first cold day of the year, when you grab a coat you haven’t worn in a while and put your hands in the pockets, and find a piece of a receipt, a used tissue, a caramel wrapper, and a band-aid, also used. And not recognize who these fragments belong to,” Yağız reflects on his work.
This powerful analogy underpins his philosophy that the self, far from being an enduring thread, is fragile and can fragment, making it challenging to reconcile memories with who one perceives themselves to be. “Material had memory, in how a tissue soaked and how an envelope scuffed. It rendered progression,” he explains
His new work includes pieces that incorporate newspapers. “When young, I used to receive newspaper clippings from my grandmother,” he recalls. “Just bits of headlines, articles, or an extra insert she must have thought I should be reading. I think everyone to some extent cuts, snips and then arranges them. It feels natural to collage with.”
Yağız found printmaking to be uniquely suited to his interests. The discipline’s inherent qualities of repetition and fatigue resonate deeply with his exploration of time’s passage and the slow unfolding of events. His artistic process is less about rigid planning and more about intimate collaboration with the material itself.
“I often print without cleaning the plate, with each repeat, the image gets blurrier, more dissolved,” he said. “The body, if it appears at all, dissolves too. It stops being an image but more of a residue. This isn’t just in form, I think bodies are residues.”
One of his influences is the German artist Dieter Roth (1930-1998). “I enjoy Dieter Roth’s work;in how I perceive it, as he moves away from the book but still with concerns of the book, so it’s more about making a composite object,” said Yağız. “Things being bound with or encased in chocolate. And that they exist on borrowed time. I don’t think any chocolate makers ever intended for others to see how the fat of chocolate seeps out over time.”
“I’m less didactic in how I do work, it’s not usually planning something out and executing it,” he explains. “Working with material and seeing where it goes… I walk in on them.” Some of his techniques include sunlight bleaching paper or an obstruction creating a silhouette that transforms a simple sheet into a historical document, rich with context.
Influenced by Turkish philosophers and the profound significance of found objects, Yağız incorporates items such as newspaper clippings, discarded mail, and even crumpled paper from his own pockets into his practice. His minimalist recent works often focus on bodily interactions and the subtle indications of time’s relentless march.
“It’s so easy to feel at a standstill, being in a time that refuses to move forward,” he said. “Then you notice a stack of four newspapers on the doormat and realize, it’s been four days.”
Beyond two-dimensional pieces, Yağız’s oeuvre includes performance art, such as a compelling sound piece, and sculptural installations like a piece featuring a fridge and glasses, further pushing the boundaries of material memory, as well as video art.
The upcoming “Conceptual Romance” exhibition, curated by esteemed curator Jared Quinton, celebrates the Ely Center’s 10-year anniversary and will feature the works of 23 artists. Yağız will showcase four pieces, including a captivating nine-minute looped video titled “Kettle.”
Of the work, he notes, “by end of the loop, most of the water evaporates so the kettle gets silent and periodically gets whispery, and dry heaves as it continues to be full blast on the stove.” This piece promises to be a poignant meditation on depletion and persistence, characteristic of Yağız’s approach.
Can Yağız graduated with his BFA in Painting from the Maryland Institute College of Art in 2018. His solo exhibitions include “Not today either” (2024) at the Ely Center of Contemporary Art and “Büro” (2018) at the John Fonda Gallery. His work has also been featured in notable group exhibitions across New York, Beijing, Boston, and New Haven, and he participated in an artist residency in Slovenia in 2017.
Speaking on his new work, Yağız explains: “There’s one type of crayon I use to make prints. I am consistently jealous of what photographs usually imply, because even if an image is a blur and you can’t tell what you’re looking at, and all you can decipher is a blob, you still know it’s pointed at something. You might not know what that “blob” is, but you know it probably exists. Print has a similar dynamic, and running the same print without any kind of reset breaks the image down.”
“I tend to keep everything and hold onto them for a while before deciding whether to throw it away or not. That includes newspapers too and they are a torrent that easily takes over a room. I think a lot about fatigue and being unable to keep up, and boulders of newspaper feels accurate, tangible, physical, almost personified form.
“Conceptual Romance” will run from September 14 to November 2, 2025, offering audiences a unique opportunity to experience Can Yağız’s profound reflections on self, memory, and the silent stories held within the objects we leave behind. For more information about the artist, visit cyagiz.com.
In the tattoo world, one artist based in Vancouver is meticulously redefining what it means to carry a story on your skin. Taeseok Park, known professionally as @t.a.e_t, has carved a unique niche in the global tattoo community by specializing in “memory maps” – intricate, deeply personal designs that translate a client’s life journey, pivotal moments, and cherished symbols into breathtaking visual narratives. His work, a striking blend of hyperrealism and precise geometric elements, transcends mere decoration, offering a permanent, poignant reflection of individual identity.
Park’s distinctive approach has garnered him significant acclaim, establishing him as a prominent figure in the entertainment and tattoo industries. His artistry is not just about ink on skin; it’s about crafting a legacy, visually and emotionally. “I’m known for translating a client’s life story into a design that flows naturally with the body’s shape,” Park explains. “Every element in the tattoo, whether it’s a portrait, statue, natural form, or object, is drawn with precision and intention. These are the areas where I truly shine, and I take pride in balancing technical skill with meaningful storytelling.”
The Art of the Memory Map: A Journey Etched in Ink
The concept of the “memory map” is at the core of Park’s artistic philosophy. Unlike conventional tattoos chosen for their aesthetic appeal, Park’s creations are built upon a foundation of profound personal significance. When a client approaches him for a memory map, the process begins with an intimate exchange designed to unearth the most resonant aspects of their life.
“When a client wants to capture their life story through a tattoo, I first ask them to send me any reference materials that hold meaning for them; this can include photos, quotes, videos, songs they often listened to, and more,” Park reveals, shedding light on his meticulous design process. “From there, I identify the client’s priorities and use those to establish the main theme, supporting elements, and background. I then design the piece to flow naturally with the body’s shape, so that both the story and the form are in harmony.”
For Park, every memory is valuable, but the starting point for each unique design is crucial. “Every memory is meaningful, but I always begin with the one that holds the most importance to the client — the core moment or story they feel truly defines their journey,” he elaborates. “That becomes the foundation for the entire tattoo design, which is always unique.”
The visual representation of these memories is also thoughtfully considered, taking into account the canvas itself. “I decide what to include visually based on the placement of the tattoo and how it flows with the body’s natural shape,” Park states. “I choose elements that not only hold meaning for the client but also complement the specific area of the body, both aesthetically and structurally.” This attention to anatomical flow ensures that the tattoo is not merely a collection of images but an integrated part of the body, moving and evolving with it.
The term “memory map” itself, coined by Park, perfectly encapsulates the essence of his work. “I call my tattoos ‘memory maps’ because the tattoo captures different moments from the client’s memories — like mapping out meaningful points in time,” he explains. “Each element represents a specific experience, coming together to form a visual map of their personal journey.”
While many tattoos are chosen for their visual appeal, Park notes that his client base is predominantly drawn to the deeper narrative. “Most tattoos generally fall into one of two categories: those chosen for their visual appeal and aesthetic value, and those based on personal memories or meaningful experiences,” he observes. “In my case, the majority of my clients come to me with stories and memories they want to preserve — so yes, most of the tattoos I create are filled with personal meaning.”
What truly sets Park’s “memory map” tattoos apart from the broader tattoo landscape is this seamless integration of narrative and form. “What sets my memory map tattoos apart is the way I translate meaningful moments from a person’s life into a design that flows seamlessly with the body’s natural shape,” he asserts. “Each piece is crafted with precise linework, delicate shading, and a realistic touch that brings the story to life. In this style, I believe my work stands on par with the very best in the field.”
From Hairstylist’s Chair to Tattoo Machine: A Creative Evolution
Taeseok Park’s journey to becoming a globally recognized tattoo artist is as compelling as the stories he etches onto skin. Before the hum of the tattoo machine became his daily soundtrack, Park navigated the fast-paced world of hairstyling. His days were a whirlwind of perms, color treatments, and endless conversations, a career he genuinely enjoyed. However, beneath the surface, a different artistic yearning began to take root.
“As much as I loved working with hair, I found myself craving a slower, more focused form of creative expression,” Park recalls. The turning point arrived unexpectedly. “One day, I saw a floral tattoo on a client’s arm and was immediately captivated. I asked them everything — how it was done, how long it took, what it cost.” That night, the image of the tattoo lingered in his mind, sparking an undeniable curiosity. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I reached out to an artist I admired on Instagram, and the rest is history.”
This pivotal moment marked the beginning of a profound career transformation. Park transitioned from shaping hair to shaping stories, embracing a new medium that allowed for unparalleled depth and permanence. For him, the shift was profoundly personal: “Tattooing, for me, isn’t just about putting ink on skin – it’s about building something meaningful that lasts a lifetime, both visually and emotionally.” This philosophy underpins every design, every precise line, and every shaded detail.
Acclaim and Global Recognition
Park’s dedication to his craft and his innovative “memory map” concept have not gone unnoticed. His distinct style and technical prowess have earned him significant accolades and a growing international reputation.
In 2022, Park received his first major award, securing 3rd Place in the Black & Grey category at the prestigious Korea Tattoo Convention. His success continued on Canadian soil, with back-to-back victories at the Vancouver Tattoo Convention, where he was awarded 2nd Place in Black & Grey Realism in both 2024 and 2025. These awards underscore his consistent excellence and his mastery of realism, a cornerstone of his memory map designs.
Beyond the convention circuit, Park’s work has caught the eye of public figures and leading publications. In 2024, he had the unique opportunity to tattoo American actor Owen Joyner, further elevating his profile. His artistry has also been featured in esteemed publications like Forbes and various other international tattoo magazines, solidifying his status as an influential artist in the field. This widespread recognition is further bolstered by his sponsorship with @Kwadron, a globally respected ink brand, a testament to his quality and standing in the industry.
Looking Ahead: Connecting Through Art
As Taeseok Park continues to push the boundaries of tattoo artistry, his commitment to crafting meaningful, enduring pieces remains unwavering. His unique ability to translate the complex tapestry of human experience into tangible, beautiful art sets him apart.
Fans and aspiring artists will have an opportunity to witness his skill firsthand in the near future. Taeseok Park is confirmed to participate at the Alberta Tattoo Convention, scheduled for October 17 to 19, 2025. This appearance will provide another platform for him to share his “memory map” philosophy and demonstrate the intricate process behind his award-winning creations.
In a world increasingly seeking authenticity and personal expression, Taeseok Park’s “memory maps” offer a profound and beautiful way to commemorate life’s most defining moments. His journey from hairstylist to acclaimed tattoo artist is a testament to the power of passion, the pursuit of a deeper creative calling, and the enduring impact of art that truly speaks to the soul.
