
Most tokens are not still images, but rather pulsing GIFs that produce disquieting emotions in the observer.įor example, “Lettuce” invites the viewer to a dark scene bathed in eerie neon green light, where a towering plant monster emerges from the shadows.
#Vexx art bottles full#
Criptocromo’s work is full of very fine pixels where shadow, shading, and color express the horrific and grotesque. And plant life isn’t the only notable feature of his art. I said, ‘let’s see what happens.’ I wasn’t even into cryptocurrencies.” To his surprise, they accepted his art.Ĭriptocromo, a soft-spoken man in his thirties with an inviting smile and thick square glasses, minted his first token on SuperRare about four years ago (the piece, “Domestication, ” referencing “The Creation of Adam,” depicts a hand reaching towards the leaves of a plant and includes a text box similar to those found in retro video games) he’s been in the crypto art space ever since, minting not only on SuperRare, but also on platforms ranging from Rarible to Hic et Nunc. In 2014, he began creating digital art and posting it on Tumblr to satisfy the need to express himself he first came into contact with NFTs by following XCOPY on the platform, and curiosity took hold. In his profile on SuperRare, he even describes himself as a “flavoprotein artist.” But his previous job, creating television graphics for a news channel, was not one that allowed him to explore what he finds fascinating and inspiring. I got carnivorous plants.” Over time, he began to learn more about plant biology and took gardening workshops. “It all started, I think, since I was a child. “I’ve always been interested in the plant kingdom,” he said when we spoke over video. His pixel art is frequently rendered in bold and contrasting tones, with subject matter veering into the unsettling. It’s an apt moniker for Mexican artist Criptocromo, whose body of work includes imagery inspired by greenery. Menu items may have changed since publication.Blue light-sensitive flavoproteins called cryptochromes contribute to regulating directional growth in plants, and in some species even have a role in controlling circadian rhythms. This article first appeared on Broadsheet on December 23, 2020. House-made tonic is flavoured with whatever is on hand perhaps kaffir lime leaves from the tree in the courtyard (paired with the Southeast Asian flavours of Kyneton’s Animus gin), or a coriander-fennel tonic that the team serves with Hendricks. That includes Westgarth Bitter, a hyper-local collab with Low Key, a small bar just over the road, and Bodriggy Brewing Co in Abbotsford. “It’s about having well-made, interesting things to drink that sit well alongside the food.”īeers are from breweries nearby (“the places we like to go,” says Probert).

“The varietals are often a little left of centre, but it’s not about being ‘natty’,” says Ribul. When it comes to wine the team opts for producers with good farming ethics and buying in small quantities so they can bring in new bottles often and keep things fresh. “We’re not eco warriors, we’re not a sustainably driven restaurant as a whole, but the ethos is to do the best that we possibly can.” “Everything has to get used somehow,” says Ribul. Leftover turnip leaves are fermented, ready for use in dishes months down the track, and lemon rinds are currently being used to make salted lemon curd.

Its “pastry” is made by steeping sheets of potato in sugar syrup, then layering it with coconut cream, lemon gel and rhubarb. For dessert there’s amaro sorbet, and a vegan mille-feuille. Spanish mackerel comes with chickpeas, sorrel fronds and a creamy brown-butter emulsion, and hangar steak is served with whole roast beetroot from Day’s Walk Farm and a coffee-kombucha glaze. It’s an ethos that all three of us have about how we personally eat too cutting back on huge amounts of protein.” “But that doesn’t mean the dishes are vegetarian.

“It’s a clean, veg-focused menu,” says Ribul. Or Stockbrot dough that’s been wrapped around a stick, dusted with sesame seeds and grilled, served with whipped crème fraiche and pumpkin-seed oil made by Ribul’s family in Austria.

It might include tiny, intensely fragrant turnips poached in dashi, glazed with soy and vinegar and smoked over feijoa wood from a tree the team removed from the courtyard. In the afternoon the interior is bathed in sunlight, but if you can’t nab a seat there the astroturfed courtyard is your next best bet, under the shade of an impressively large lemon tree dotted with fairy lights.
