"Sometimes a wide abyss separates Tuesday from Wednesday, but twenty-six years may pass in a moment. Time is no straight line. but rather a labyrinth. and if you press yourself against the wall, at the right spot, you can hear the hurrying steps and the voices, you can hear yourself walking past on the other side."
-Tomas Transtromer, Reply to a Letter
17.10.15
Always in the same house
"Some say that as we grow up, we become different people at different ages, but I don't believe this. I think we remain the same throughout, merely passing in these years from one room, to another, but always in the same house. If we unlock the rooms of the far past, we can look in and see ourselves beginning to become you and me."
-Peter Pan, 1954 Musical, Opening lines
-Peter Pan, 1954 Musical, Opening lines
26.1.15
In the shadow
About four years ago (it's been a while, eh?), I wrote about Candy Jernigan an artist, and wife of fellow creative Philip Glass.
There are so many female artists, architects, and designers who are either hidden in their husband's shadow or under-recognized in the history of design.
I tend to gravitate to the designers who have the ability to re-adapt the pedestrian. So, now, behind door #2: Anni Albers
Working in textiles at the Bauhaus, not by choice, but by limited course options for women. She took up weaving, print making, and jewelry. She and Josef Albers met at the Bauhaus, and undoubtedly their closeness led to much cross over between each other's work. Most in the design world should be able to pinpoint Josef Albers' iconic "Homage to the Square" or publication of "Interaction of Color" as pivotal influences on our design thinking today.
So, what about Anni?
I find her work to more "current" and "relevant" in today's design environment where there has been a renewed interest in craft. Her woven pieces are especially fantastic, because they contain so much depth, texture, and minutia. It is hard to even think to compare them to the flatness of color and dimension her husband's squares contain. Today, I think our world has become so rigid and clean, that we crave and covet a little curated craft. Anni's work is just that- objects that relieve our world of that sterile modernity. Objects that are so well-crafted, and restrained, they become art. I will cease my discussion at textiles, and let you explore for yourself her prints and jewelry. More work and information is available here.
There are so many female artists, architects, and designers who are either hidden in their husband's shadow or under-recognized in the history of design.
I tend to gravitate to the designers who have the ability to re-adapt the pedestrian. So, now, behind door #2: Anni Albers
Working in textiles at the Bauhaus, not by choice, but by limited course options for women. She took up weaving, print making, and jewelry. She and Josef Albers met at the Bauhaus, and undoubtedly their closeness led to much cross over between each other's work. Most in the design world should be able to pinpoint Josef Albers' iconic "Homage to the Square" or publication of "Interaction of Color" as pivotal influences on our design thinking today.
So, what about Anni?
31.5.14
The Deleted World
From A Winter's Night:
"The storm puts its mouth to the house
and blows to get a tone.
I toss and turn, my closed eyes
reading the storm's text.
The child's eyes grow wide in the dark
and the storm howls for him.
Both love the swinging lamps;
both are halfway towards speech.
The storm has the hands and wings of a child.
Far away, travelers run for cover.
The house feels its own constellation of nails
holding the walls together.
The night is calm in our rooms,
where the echoes of all footsteps rest
like sunken leaves in a pond,
but the night outside is wild.
A darker storm stands over the world.
It puts its mouth to our soul
and blows to get a tone. We are afraid
the storm will blow us empty."
-Tomas Transtromer
"The storm puts its mouth to the house
and blows to get a tone.
I toss and turn, my closed eyes
reading the storm's text.
The child's eyes grow wide in the dark
and the storm howls for him.
Both love the swinging lamps;
both are halfway towards speech.
The storm has the hands and wings of a child.
Far away, travelers run for cover.
The house feels its own constellation of nails
holding the walls together.
The night is calm in our rooms,
where the echoes of all footsteps rest
like sunken leaves in a pond,
but the night outside is wild.
A darker storm stands over the world.
It puts its mouth to our soul
and blows to get a tone. We are afraid
the storm will blow us empty."
-Tomas Transtromer
27.6.10
Headstuck
Spent my morning taking photos on the train tracks between West Oakland & Emeryville. An amazing experience. Beautiful. Under those monolithic freeways all entangled over my head. Plywood board formed concrete, massive joints, emptiness, trash, skaters. I continue my love affair with the freeway. The free-space that lives beneath them. So free, a little precarious, a little eerie. Just what a like.For those of you who haven't delved in this gut-wrenching read I highly suggest you check this out, "Magical Motorways" by Norman Bel Geddes, published in 1940 after the General Motors "Futurama" exhibition at the world's fair. I love it. And the pdf version can be downloaded here.
1.4.10
Luis Longhi
On Monday night Luis Longhi lectured at UC Berkeley. I won't go into an endless monologue on how amazing it was. He's just an architect from Peru who really believes in listening to site and learning from nature. Check out their website: http://www.longhiarchitect.com/home.html
Photos: CHOlon Photography, Elsa Raimerz
7.3.10
Thank you, Bruce Conner
Three Screen Ray by Bruce Conner set to Ray Charles "What I'd Say" in the SF MOMA right now, on three screens in a black room. That's where its happenin'.
I want this permanently installed in my home. But for now, I will permanently install it into my brain.
15.1.10
A Digitally-Constructed World
The Third & The Seventh from Alex Roman on Vimeo.
I have been a fan of browsing through all those CG architect animations, and most times they are pretty silly. Then I found this, and I have to say I understand why Alex Roman sat behind his computer for days on end meticulously constructing this digital world. Just watch it in HD.14.10.09
Resonance
There are times when I regret not having traveled more, and then there are days when I feel North America in my bones, that bone-chill that falls brings to the Bay Area in 35 mile per hour winds. I heard the trees around my windows wailing all night.
After seeing several lost faces on Friday, Saturday brought the discovery of a new territory: The Salt Flats.
Armed with plastic cameras we trudged down these narrow man-made levees. These little levees create ponds to harvest salt. Salt to be used in chlorine bleach and plastics manufacture. Here the breeding brine shrimp which support feeding areas for waterfowl, and little white cranes and the largest seagulls you will see live there. As you stand and face the ocean you see a superstructure freeways emerge from the sea (to your left) and an endless flatland with reflective salty gems sending out harsh sulfur smells into the atmosphere (to your right). Brillant white foam lines their shores collecting the fall sunlight.
Go further and you will find a railroad with ancient rusting rail-ties that have spewed from her tracks. Large power lines canopy overhead sending out a uniform buzz a kind of white noise that like the smell, swiftly evaporates from your consciousness.
Yes, North America, your greatest gifts always lie hidden between a walled suburban community and an industrial wasteland.
After seeing several lost faces on Friday, Saturday brought the discovery of a new territory: The Salt Flats.
Armed with plastic cameras we trudged down these narrow man-made levees. These little levees create ponds to harvest salt. Salt to be used in chlorine bleach and plastics manufacture. Here the breeding brine shrimp which support feeding areas for waterfowl, and little white cranes and the largest seagulls you will see live there. As you stand and face the ocean you see a superstructure freeways emerge from the sea (to your left) and an endless flatland with reflective salty gems sending out harsh sulfur smells into the atmosphere (to your right). Brillant white foam lines their shores collecting the fall sunlight.
Go further and you will find a railroad with ancient rusting rail-ties that have spewed from her tracks. Large power lines canopy overhead sending out a uniform buzz a kind of white noise that like the smell, swiftly evaporates from your consciousness.
Yes, North America, your greatest gifts always lie hidden between a walled suburban community and an industrial wasteland.
26.9.09
Truth Barriers
"We are at a party which doesn't love us. Finally the party lets the mask fall and shows what it is: a shunting station for freight cars. In the fog cold giants stand on their tracks. A scribble of chalk on the car doors.
One can't say it aloud, but there is a lot of repressed violence here. That is why the furnishings seem so heavy. And why it is difficult to see the other thing present: a spot of sun that moves over the house walls and over the unaware forest of flickering faces, a biblical saying never let down: "Come unto me, for I am as full of contradictions as you"
I work the next morning in a different town. I drive there in a hum through the dawning hour which resembles a dark blue cylinder. Orion hangs over the frost. Children stand in a silent clump, waiting for the school bus, the children no one prays for. The light grows as gradually as our hair. "
-Tomas Transtromer, "Below Freezing" from Truth Barriers
One can't say it aloud, but there is a lot of repressed violence here. That is why the furnishings seem so heavy. And why it is difficult to see the other thing present: a spot of sun that moves over the house walls and over the unaware forest of flickering faces, a biblical saying never let down: "Come unto me, for I am as full of contradictions as you"
I work the next morning in a different town. I drive there in a hum through the dawning hour which resembles a dark blue cylinder. Orion hangs over the frost. Children stand in a silent clump, waiting for the school bus, the children no one prays for. The light grows as gradually as our hair. "
-Tomas Transtromer, "Below Freezing" from Truth Barriers
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