The sky over Manhattan is just spectacular right now. The clouds are black and brown and dark blue. The changes from minute to minute. Each new composition more exciting than the one before. And slowly the entire scene is turning darker and darker. Flash, there, again. Dark blue again.
May 2002 Archives
How could anybody resist such a marvelous site? POPPOO.COM might be one of the cutest crude shockwave game sites out there. So beautiful. Oh, such excellent pixel-work!
Congratulations. **Astro Poop** might be my favorite game on the site at the moment, but maybe because I only played Astro Poop so far. Oh, sweet little pixel explosions.
A click on the random BlogSnob ad on this page brought me to SomeTHiNG...from Glasgow, I think and there, in the header of the page, was this wonderful Anne Frank Quote:
“How wonderful it is that we can start doing good at this very moment.”
Yes. And we should. Let’s.
Take a look at the entire site. I have the feeling that I will be learning a lot from this gentleman.
Check out this very intersting site I recently came across, it is called M3ORANGE, give it a click, it is about design, some photography, some exploration. A personal site. I like personal sites.
Just as they started getting OK, I will take a break. There will be no Small aero drawings tomorrow. I had promised to post them through May, and here we go, last day of May, last double of small aero drawings. I have plenty more, it is just that I did not scan them in. But I will, of course, you’ll see, just come back to check.
I remember drawing one of the drawings below on the plane. The plane doors had just closed and the stewardess had just walked past us, checking if we were buckled up. I was seated in a middle seat next to this quite attractive woman in her early 20’s. As I was drawing I noticed that she kept staring at my book. I tried looking back at her book, which had something to do with serious mental disorders and their treatment. After finding that out, I tried not to look much harder. (I was later told that the way I looked was in a bad, not so secret manner, a bit like a “not so secret super-spy”.)
So this woman looked at the smaller one of the drawings, which I had started while we were still at the gate, and which has probably something to do with my “economy-class” seat... She looked at the drawing and then she spoke, in the strangest, scariest, non-human voice, her emphasis somehow focused on the spaces between words, not the words themselves, the pitch of her voice fluctuating between a high pitched sing sang and a deeper something. “I do not know what you are drawing, but it is quite beautiful.” I know this sounds like a very kind and friendly compliment, but the way she said it scared me quite a bit. The way she spoke was way out of my league. I did not know how to react. I did not want to anger the spirits that just tried to get in touch with me. “Calm the waters, calm the waters, beautiful day, quiet f.” were my thoughts.
I thanked for the compliment, of course, closed the book and did not draw for the rest of the f. She just kept ordering these hard drinks and her body weight and temperature was somehow noticeable, no matter how hard I tried to move away from her. Oh boy.
If you are new to this blog and would like to look at all of the small aero drawings posted here so far, feel free to browse through them in the small aero drawings section of the catalogue. Open 24 hours. Enjoy.
Royal College of Art . The Show 2002 is on. The Site has been on for quite a while, but the catalogue went online today. If you are from Europe, you might have known about it for a while now. If your name is Tom Flemming then you are probably on one of the covers. (I know that Tom is on one of the covers, I am just teasing him here). Go, check out the show. Let me know who your favorites are. Ladies and Gentlemen. It is Friday again.
McSweeney’s Internet Tendency: Today the Toll-Booth Attendant Felt Chatty is a big deal. It features a bit of the work of Todd Levin. (The Toll-Booth Attendant Felt Chatty.)
(I do not quite understand the piece, but it is just me, really.)
I can admit at this point that I have a *lifetime* subscription to McSweeneys and that I am a supporter of McSweeney’s and that some friends in Germany do not like that I gave them two gift subscriptions. But we need to spread the message. McSweeney’s is good for you. Read it, especially today.
Shu Hung runs the superbly IN-formed magazine IN (in-vincible is next). She also has this ability to find IN-credible sites. (How does she do it?) Today’s superb site is called Superbe. Check it out, and tomorrow, get your copy of IN. The IN people know what they are doing. The current issue is worth checking out for the Tom Friedman interview alone. (I will try to run an ad in the next issue. Some never before published material. Hope you will like it. All this to give you more free things and to keep IN free too.)
The walls of the cabin seem thinner than my refrigerator door. There is always this tiny pressure equalizing hole somewhere in the window, and tiny little ice particles form there in f.
The baggage enters the plane in a good old fashioned way. Thrown from little wagons with funny curtains on the side.
The further in the front we sit, the deeper are we allowed to look into the engine, this controlled inferno that sucks in all the air we just saw in front of it and spits it out with a much greater force to generate this great power that carries us all over the ocean. Yes, we are burning oil again. We are mixing air with dirt particles. Yippiee... How many tons of kerosene are burned every minute all over this planet?
The Russian contestant of the Miss Universe contest just admitted that she blushes whenever she “lies”, not what the translator said. Oh well. It does not really matter, or does it? ;)
Just added this blog to nyc bloggers. A very nice concept that sorts New York bloggers by their closest Subway Stations. How appropriate. I am closest to the 96th Street station of the 1/2/3. I can see the entrance as I am writing this. If you are in New York and have a blog, add yourself. (And let us know about your closest Subway stop.)
Dear reader. There are mosquitoes here around me. It smells like food. I have a view of the Hudson river. There is an American flag, mounted on the corner here waving in the cool evening wind. I am on the roof of our building and the sun just set. The sky is magically changing colors again. The sky seems bigger up here. The surrounding buildings seem like islands lit from within. Lanterns super-sized. A helicopter blinking in white red and even a blue just flew by. My subway ride was in a car with broken air-conditioning, the apartment was quite warm too, so the roof now is perfect. Almost perfect. Mosquitoes are not the most friendly beasts. Hope there is no West Nile Virus flying around with them. I came here straight from the office. My work headphones are now connected to my good old Powerbook and we are looking at the sky together, Charlatans in stereo are here too. Not too loud, but just loud enough to overpower the sounds of Broadway and of the Building’s air conditioning system. All is peacefully wonderful.
Too bad none of my neighbors on these high floors has an open Airport station. I would like to post this message from here. Oh, well.
Here comes another helicopter. Search on the roof here? Not anymore. Taking the route over 93rd street, slowing down, turning, out of sight.
A 737 just flew directly over my head. Charlatans soundtrack.
As I was cleaning directories on the server, I came across an old picture I took when traveling with Barry to Los Angeles. He had just taken the job at raygun, and I had some time to help him move his stuff into the new house on the West Coast. We drove across country in four days and nights, maybe six.
The picture was taken somewhere in Texas, it is a 24 hour info sign in front of one of those country churches that hardly look like a church. The message inspires me every time I see it. It somehow feels like the opposite of what every investment brokerage has told me so far (Past performance is no guarantee of future results). Here past performance will not be looked at, it is the future that starts now that matters. Now that you know it. Make it a good one.
(I also like that the word future is the darkest spot of the sign. So “future” does not necessarily mean a bigger house and more cash in the bank, it just means “your very private, custom future, as bright as you make it.”)
Oh, and can you please do not post any comments about the recent Catholic Church issues? Let’s see more of the big picture here, shall we?
There was a traffic jam on 96th and Broadway just a few minutes ago. The homeless Guy with his super-sized cart waited, for the overdressed Motorcycle rider going to the West side Highway, who waited for the SUV going the same way, who waited for a group of people including the man with the straps of his bag carving deep into the soft chest under his t-shirt, as they crossed 96th street to get to the subway.
Now it is the same event with new actors. And above all that, a large heron-like bird (remember, I am bad with names, that includes animals) flew by to get to her brunch in on this muggy and humid May morning. I love New York.
Hello boys and girls. Some old men are going to select a new Miss Universe this year again. It will be an event sponsored by our good old Donald Trump and transmitted on our good old CBS. The process will be pretty non interactive, for sure, just some channel surfing during the commercials. We all love clicking however, and you probably got here because you click. So, 75 of the candidates from 75 countries can now be clicked on here. The “article” is in German, but you might be able to figure out the very international navigation system: Check out the tiny thumbnail images, and if you like an image, use your mouse or pointer or whatever you use and click on it. (you will see a larger version of the same picture. You might have done something similar before.)
All models are dressed in bikinis or bathing suits, so I would rate the site PG. I know some surfers will be surprised that there are 75 countries that participate in this (Some will be surprised that there are still 75 countries out there). Let me know what your favorite country is. Oh, and for the very last time “Paris” is not a country and “Africa” is not a country either. No, Vatican did not participate.
Oh and one more question. After seeing Episode II. Can this competition be seriously called Miss “Universe”?
New York is the cradle of comedy. It is the birthplace, the womb, the place where is happens. You know what I mean. It starts here, it ends somewhere in New Jersey. So tonight we went to the Manhattan theatre source-one stop shop for the performing arts. It was an evening packed with a variety of performances by some Artists we knew, and some we did not, yet. I am really horrible with names, so it will take me a while to get together the hard facts. The Playbill that was given out at the event had a Jerry Seinfeld quote on it, but Jerry did not make it tonight. The host of the show, Deyk (sorry, whatever your names were, people...) gave us some very entertaining insights into his very private life. Very amusing. Does he really have a show on the cooking channel? Is he really a private chef for the Trumps, or was it part of the routine?, who knows. It was some good, good stuff.
Todd Levin was really funny too, but only if he never really sent these letters to these poor kids. Because if he did, I am going to kick his ... behind really hard.
The good thing about Todds performance was that he did not only bring good lines, but that the lines between the lines were quite good too. (just as I said, only if those letters were not real...) He is what I would call the intelligent, educated, sophisticated entertainer. (Oh, I wish some of the other performers had at least made an attempt to seem this way.)
The high of the evening might have been this one woman-performer who happened to be the last act of the evening. She was not only a snappy standup-actress, her voice was good, the songs were funny, she gave it all and it was just really great stuff. She had this excellent artistic Energy that should open her doors to large stages, shall she choose to enter them. I really wish I had remembered her name. She even built it into one of her songs, so perfectly. (Got it: Kim Gatewood)
Oh boy. If I were a theater critic, there would be no Broadway, just a bunch of shacks. I promise to find out her name. You have to see her if she happens to perform in a theater near you.
I shall say no more.
One of my neighbors must have wrestled with a big fish on this humid May afternoon. The fish probably lost. And so the neighbor, to mark a clear victory just left the fish on the carpet. And the afternoon might have been yesterday, because today, today even aromatic candles can not fight the very special kind of smell in the hallway. It might, of course, be act seven in the mini war between some neighbors here. It is all about territory. Flags are posted on doors, other doors remain open, just to show off power. We recently got a knock on our door. “It is your crazy Austrian Neighbor knocking”, now really. We have no Austrian Neighbor here. This is what happens when Europe is perceived as this huge, unexplored suburb of Paris, which is technically a country. Why Austrian? The lady they might have meant is from Russia, I think. Oy, crazy kids starting some mischugge games. What’s wrong with these people. OK, so now there is fish stink. Let’s see what’s next.
Waking up in the middle of the night is not always a beautiful thing. Yes, amazon.com is open and the mac is listening to various radio stations, yes, the city does not ever sleep. Broadway just called through the open window. “Come, play with us, we are up all night.” Police cars and the trucks with fresh deliveries from upstate and north Jersey rush by the windows. The sky just turned dark purple again. And because there will be plenty of work on my plate today, I will need to force myself back into the land that can only be entered with the eyes closed. Now, please, I would like to go back. Show me what my mind is digesting. Thank you. Let’s go back, shall we? Good morning, good night. Just two more hours, please.
Tomorrow we are going to see the one and only Todd Levin.
Truly looking forward to it. I am sure the evening will be quite excellent!
> A Too-Poor-To-Travel Comedy Weekend
> TUESDAY, 8pm - $10 cover (worth it, I can feel it.)
> @ Manhattan Theater Source
> 177 MacDougall b/w Waverly & 8th Street
> (right at the northwest corner of Washington Sq. Park)
Yippiee. Go Todd!
My hearing is not quite perfect anymore. It used to be better. I even know where I left some of my hearing. It was that great concert a few years ago. I was much too close to the stage, without earplugs. The band was The Charlatans. I remember the bells in my hurting ears for several days after the event. And the world has been sly muddy sound wise since. But, hey, it was worth it. For The Charlatans. Yeah. So I am one of those quiet fans. I am one that looks forward to the upcoming DVD. Actually wanted to get it from Britain, but these country code warnings on my Power-book are not of the friendly sort. (Switch three more times and then trash your DVD player.)
So I will probably need to wait for the release in the US...
I am getting Songs From the Other Side from the Other Side of the ocean however. And nothing is going to stop me. ; )
I remember dancing like a madman to The Only One I Know at Goldene Krone Darmstadt 1990 or so... (Thank you, Jule!)
I actually danced so violently that I almost broke this one woman’s jaw. (I was a very wild dancer, you know... And just did not see her as I was flying over the dance floor in my Nike Terra. Serious stuff. ; )
I can not believe that Vern did not make it into the Top three of the Viewers' Choice Marathon. What’s wrong with you people? This show is about Vern and the others. It is basically the Vern Show. (He deserves a Vern show.)
Dear foreign viewers. Trading spaces is a silly little interior decoration show on The Learning Channel here in the US. Neighbors (2+2) have the chance to redecorate a room in each other’s home. The time is limited (48 hours) and so is the budget ($1000). The neighbors get help, of course. Their helpers are there professional interior designers. Some of them are a bit crafty, like Frank Bielec, some just “convince” the neighbors of their “ideas”, like Hilda Santo-Tomas or Douglas Wilson. There are some better listeners like Genevieve Gorder and Laurie Hickson-Smith (they are really good).
Yes, and then there is Vern Yip, the guy who is my personal winner every time. His work is just very carefully adjusted to the actual needs of the situation. He has the ability to put his ego aside and just create great spaces. In 48 hours within a 48 hour budget, from coast to coast. A real hero. So no wonder I am a (tiny bit) upset that he is not in the top three shows elected by viewers to be shown as the climax of the “Trading Spaces Marathon”. Oh well. I think Vern is the man. Give him his own show! Please.
Oh, and why would I even write about such a show here? It is an addictive piece of television and there are tears and laughter in every episode and there is this voyeuristic factor too, of course. How do people live? How would they like to live? Our dwellings are obviously not always like the pictures out of wallpaper*... So this is the kind of reality show I enjoy. Yeah. Make fun of me now... (Well I am obviously more addicted to my blog than I am to the show, because the shows is on right now and what am I doing? There are Charlatans on my headphones and I am blogging away. Or am I moving type?)
Just missed an exhibition in London. It was Do-Ho Suh at the Serpentine Gallery. Saw his work at the 49th Venice Biennale, and it was stunning, energetic and filled with this mind boggling sense of proportion. It all radiated this energy of good art. No questions asked. The pieces make us giants, make us powerful, move us to the edges of our perception. The wallpaper in one of the installations turned out to be millions of individual portraits, just sly bigger than the presidents on the back of a green card. A monument in front of the Korean pavilion was held up little figures, which also seemed to be individual portraits of actual people. The the entire floor in one of the rooms at the Biennale rested on the tiny plastic hands of these toy people. It reminded me of a story by Stanislaw Lem. A king who’s kingdom was big enough to use his people as confetti at parades. Let me look for the link.
They are not really illustrations. They do not really illustrate. They are these small aero drawings I have been posting in this blog for almost two weeks now. Now they will not only be posted here, but also collected in the catalogue. Enjoy.
Hope the pixelsurgeon police will not be mad at me, for just (almost) copying and pasting their message here. It is just simply good news and we should go and visit pixelsurgeon. Good stuff.
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It's uh, um... about design, I think
Birds are in charge here in Port Washington. They are everywhere, in all sizes they sing, they chirp, the prey, they fly around. Life is very different in Long Island. There still seem to be more trees here than people and Nature, at least in some areas is still written with a capital N.
There were two sparrows having great fun by my window here, which reminds me though that even if Nature is written with a capital N, these birds are children of immigrants, European, British starlings, set free in . And all because of Shakespeare. Who knew. (more on Sparrows)
It is an article on the website of the new york times. I can not keep reading now. It is a touching article. I will probably read it later. It is about the last messages from the towers. I can not read it now.
Ahem. Just to put things straight. I am a rooster. Yes, I am a rooster. My is a rooster too. I was born in 1969, which makes me a Rooster. What sign are you? (I know yours, Tom.)
Don’t be shy, click on the comment link and add your chinese sign. Let’s see if there are more monkeys than pigs. Please.
Fewer and fewer visitors read this blog. It might be the holiday weekend, but it might be the way I write. My writing is just not dirty enough. I do not use words like rooster, or kitten. I do not talk about things that drive traffic. Until now. It is time to link to some good digital porn. Now we will see how many visitors this site will get, how many hungry eyes will follow every link on this page, looking for more. The good, the bad and the pretty ugly stuff. Go for it. Move your mouse over the link and click real hard. You dirty, dirty surfer. (I might be the only New Yorker without a shrink, but if I go on like this... I will need to find one.)
(The above link is not dangerous at all. Yes, you can click it, Brother Franciscus.)
Thank you for the link, agent M3.
When building plastic models of planes in Poland, we always had to put something heavy into the front of the model, so it did not go into a takeoff position. I then wondered if the pilots needed to be the heaviest people on the plane to achieve the same effect in real life. (OK, I just made it up. Not even the small me could have had such a ridiculous thought...)
I still find it quite fascinating that these heavy birds can hit the ground so graciously, and drive around on these relatively tiny rubber tires.
Leica called me yesterday notifying me that my package, my repaired Leica minilux is on its way. It was supposed to arrive here on Tuesday, yet here it is. It is back. The shipping was overnight. The shutter is fixed and it is even more velvety than it used to be. Such a quiet little helper. Looking forward to shooting the first roll. We are back in minilux land. Yippie. I would make a shutter sound here, but the little camera is so nice and quiet... Hmm... (...) did you hear it?
Not sure if this one is for real, but if it is, it could be a a napster of search engines, of sorts? Try OpenCola and tell me more. This refreshing link was brought to you by Michael Dodt, from Frankfurt.
(it is “beta” and might be a spam engine, so be careful with your info... just saying...)
Waiting. Waiting for the take in. Waiting for the take off. Waiting for all the items to arrive. Waiting for the cabin to be closed. Waiting for the giant machines to finally move. Slowly at first, then faster. The camera moves away from the plane. We see the tiny bird. Are we ready for the intercontinental jump?
Imagine millions of these controlled by the imagination of a “senator”, working for one or the other side of the force. And then, in a robe, a Jedi knight, with hardly more than an old saber and maybe a bag of pretzels, doing this (careful, real video).
Or just imagine it the other way around. Ten of these going about their “business”, hacked to visit the sites in New York, and us here, in the midst of it, writing blogs, no sabers in our pockets, just iPods with some music. Oh boy...
This piece of equipment looks like some sort of future to me not sure if it is a bright and happy future (except maybe for pilots, who might lose their jobs, but keep their lives). How can all this be translated into any sort of reality for me please? Use the force, Luke.
There are pink stripes in a baby blue sky this morning. It was so good to meet old friends in a dream. And I am glad that my subconscious managed to polish our edges, leading to such a harmonious conversation. Simply wonderful and good. It began about ideas in architecture and continued without end through all disciplines, all. The sky seems like a sweet extension of the world I just was lucky enough to spend a few hours in. Such innocently happy moments. A smile.
Rem Koolhaas did not talk to Europe leading intellectuals to come up with his T-Shirt look design of the new European flag, as the New York Time Article suggests. (Or if he actually did, poor Europe) He just looked at Paul Smith’s Mini while looking for inspiration for his prada project. (God bless Europe.) We all know that Paul Smith is the master of Shopping Environments. What more can I say?
And what will happen this weekend? (ahem, starting tonight?) What is the shortest distance between New York and Tokyo? Tom (from London) sent me the following link:NEWYORK-TOKYO MUSIC FESTIVAL. Just the site is really pretty. I do not know any of the Japanese artists (do know some of the americans), but this event does sound fascinating, doesn’t it?
Some know it, some do not. Google use Pidgeons, they always have. Thank you for the link, Jørgen.
Planes do not necessarily become easier comprehendible, just because we come closer to them, or when we enter them. There was always this serious disappointment with toy cars for me. They never really had as much detail as I anticipated. Being mostly built to sell, not really to teach, the love the manufacturer pours into some toys stops at the moment the package is opened, or the toy is somehow assembled. The child takes over. The money is in the bank. Planes are a bit more (and just a bit more) like living things to the casual (7-17 hour) visitor. They look very fascinating from the outside and there is this exciting activity at the gate, but then the inside continues to be exciting. It is built to entertain, it is built to look secure, it is built to prevent a fire from spreading. Just the development of airplane seats, from these soft looking objects to supreme space savers, where the knees of the person behind me seem to be part of the design, is worth its own story. And then there are these entertainment systems. With the disappearance of smoking on planes, there needed to be some sort of entertainment patch. Be it television, be it a series of (the) movies (I was just about to rent anyway.) All seems to be there to prevent us from going nuts, staring at the starting baldness of the person in front of us. Or listening to the screams of the much too young baby in row 56. Yes, it is much, much more complex than that. Oh, of course it is. The two drawings below were not drawn next to each other, just as none of the aero drawings before were. I like these new relationships. New stories.
Quick Brown Fox, a chain in Australia just started selling this tasteless handbag. It costs $159 and is almost sold out. What is next?
When the plane finally docks at the gate, there is this sudden increase in points of contact with the static real world. Just minutes prior to this moment the only connections between the ground and the machine seemed purely visual. Then the first touch of the ground. More or less violent, but reduced to the tires, tiny points of contact for large, large machines.
Only at the gate do these ultimate swiss army knifes open all their blades. All the interfaces can be used now. All hatches are open. Gases, liquids, baggage, humans are allowed to flow relatively freely between inside and outside of the bubble. Until the moment comes to seal the bubble again and to bring the inside to a place far, far beyond the horizon.
A refreshingly brief and balanced article on Thomas Struth in the current issue of The New Yorker (Page 118-119).
welcome to REMOTE because of theorem. [ interactive environment design ], because of lovebri, who presented beautiful pictures by edge of the continent.
And then there was a message from Cis, who is most likely related to Chez Frohmage (is this his real name though?)
Hold your turbans. There is another fantastic site out there: Turbanhead.com - mouth fulla plantinum', mouth fulla gold! do I need to say more? Probably not. But I will.
Almost every story has a bright side, of course. The film exchange project is a great idea and I would participate again. Even the AtlantaGeek episode has a bright side. The guys who are hosting his stuff have some really great shots on their site.
I really like the wonderfully foggy image by Rob. Then there is this great shot of a lone mailbox which looks like a movie still. (Excellent job there, Rob!)
My favorite photograph here is definitely Mare. I am quite speechless. A beautiful photograph. It is beautiful because it manages to capture a time in life, not just a year, a place, a person. (I know she is a specific person, but in this image she portrays more of a mood for those of us who do not know her.) We are obviously looking at an exhausted friend of Robert’s in some large (Greyhound?/Airport?/Train-station?) terminal waiting area. The shot does not only portray the moment, but is obviously the end of a much longer journey through time and space. It is a short moment of rest in an otherwise not so restful time. What are the sounds around them? How long does this moment last? How long will they be able to travel like this? Where will their journeys bring them? Her and Rob? How long will they remain friends? What does she dream of? It is a bit like the moment which was supposed to be portrayed in this one Coke commercial. This, right here, might be one of the greatest moments in their lives.
Thank you for documenting this moment in our lives so well, Rob.
Those were my favorites, but you might like others. Take a look at the whole gallery. He calls them Older Photos. They look pretty current to me.
He says he is looking for an internship, but let’s be honest, this guy might be a student, but he can make stuff look pretty sweet. Somebody should be able to use these skills in an interesting project for a paying client. Robert has skills. Let’s find him a job people!
Take a look at his site:aurikom - robert lenne - portfolio.
I know that we all think that the times are not as bright as they used to be, but there must be a desk somewhere for this guy. I would see this as a win win situation. Give him a chance and then report back. I would love to hear part two of this obvious success story about to unfold. (Thank you for the link, Jess!)
Bet I can make you move back and forward in front of your screen, without touching you or even speaking to you? Just click this link, and enjoy.
Is this an omen?, am I a chosen one?, is the web trying to tell me something here? I just found this article in the Onion as a referrer to my blog. Does this mean that I complain too much?, not enough? Is this a sign that I am going to lose my hair much more?, should I stop drinking hazelnut coffee (how did they know?), or not drive a Volvo (I do not have a car), or forget about New Mexico (who told them?) all together?
This is one of those perfectly spooky links that make the paranoid me even more paranoid. It was OK when the metafilter linked to this blog, but now the Onion? I also had some visitors from this company called Apple this morning (who are they?). Do we have some food theme going on?, is it because I used to work for Organic? It will probably remain a mystery. Unless of course it was you who linked. Come forward, place your comment below. Do not be shy. I know you really to tell us.
Got this piece of Polish spam yesterday:
Good thing Polish is my mother-language so I will be able to give you a little introduction into this especially cute Spam message.
(others have not been as lucky and receiving Korean Spam
My Polish bundle of love reads as follows (you can scroll down for a translation):
> Przed chwila Twój znajomy byl na naszej stronie, gdzie odwiedzajacy
oceniaja jak podobaja im sie inni, w skali od 1 do 10. Postanowila dac´ Tobie
znac´ o jednym z ciekawych zdjec´, abys´ sam mogl je zobaczyc´!
> Oto adres zdjecia:
> Odwiedz nas! Moze zdecydujesz sie umiescic swoje zdjecie, aby inni Ciebie
Just moments ago a friend of yours visited our site, where visitors can vote on the looks of others by using a 1-10 point system. She decided to let you know about one of her more interesting photographs.
Here is the Picture:
Come to visit us. Maybe you will also decide to place your own picture on the site, so others can rate you?
Lustereczko.pl (Little mirror)
Cute Spam, isn’t it? I would not mind getting more of this non threatening stuff. Keep clicking, some of the pictures are super funny. Oh, and I gave her a 7. ; )
It did not take long and I was able to find several friends and foes in personality stereotypes. Pretty scary? Pretty funny. : ) Try it.
I usually edit the title of a link before I post it, but with Christa... even the title of her blog is dry and funny:Jesus Blogging Christ!. Christa is blogging. Christa and I (and Eric, and Chris, and Jess and many others) worked together on PowerAde a few years ago. And she was the one who made things happen on screen, before others were even dreaming of them. We had a site that was built to be ahead of the then usual web experience, to empower kids with slow modems (and a thirst for PowerAde). You have to read Christa’s blog. It is really good, brief and to the point (and really, really funny).
Eric posted some photographs from a tattoo convention on his site. He took them with a disposable camera. There is a photograph of a Transspecies person in the gallery. (And Boba Fett was there too...)
Great job, Redd! It is a good looking gallery too.
What can we do? Atlanta Geek does not mail me back. I sent him my film roll on May 3rd and have not been able to get in touch with him since. He does not reply to emails and has obviously not posted my photographs.
He obviously shot his pictures and had them posted on the BBC Blog. Atlanta Geek, if you really think that things are going according to plan, then you might be very wrong... I know where you live, Atlantageek... Do I have the keys?... Well... Let’s see...
Visiting stock photography sites, one wouldn’t expect to find not only the image of a Gun, but also a snappy description that helps the designer understand that the thing we are looking at is er than the average laptop, can be easily concealed and just in general does a great job, yeah. Not sure I like this.
Good Morning. It is May 20th. The moment of truth. I am very happy to present twelve Photographs by the wonderful Hilary Johnson of ClutteredLife.com
Hilary sent me a selection of sweet pictures of her two beautiful children and her handsome husband (the dog was also in one of the pictures). It was not an easy choice, but I somehow managed to pick twelve images, as promised. It is a tiny story, it seems... about a sister, her wild baby brother and the happy house and a tree. Hilary experimented a bit with black and white APS film, giving the images a very interesting feeling of suspence. I tried to keep some of that mood in my selection. Enjoy. (Hope you like the selection, Hilary.)
I hope AtlantaGeek has not forgotten about the project and remembered to post my images today. (Click him.)
That’s it. I know the secret. George Lucas is actually a 12 years old clone of himself. We just saw Episode II and it would have been a great movie if only all the characters, their dialogue and their story were not entirely Computer Generated and the director were at least 14. (I take it back, Jar Jar in a Blender would not have been the healthiest kind of fun.) The cities looked most “real”, straight from Blade Runner, except there were more Monsters. Some of the better scenes were actually scenes straight out of Monsters Inc., and Gladiator/Ben Hur. (Obi van Hur.) I also found it very deful that most of the spaceships made sounds as if they were manufactured around 1924. (not quite as bad as this one, but definitely no jet engines.)
Am I getting geeky here?, shall we be in any way surprised? I just saw the origin of Boba Fett. How can I remain the not quite serious self? Boba Fett man! I also saw the inside of Slave1.... Do you know what I mean? You know....
George Lucas is definitely 12. He has seen his older sister kiss, he has heard about relationships from his friends who are 13. And then he went back to his drawing board at Skywalker ranch, called up his former self and told the story in a way that followed the old superbly successful formula, which among other things requires to generate as many merchandisable characters as possible, even if the movie begins to look like a toy commercial. Does the same character appear more than once, they need to wear something different, so there can be several versions of the same toy....
I shall say no more, my vision seems clouded by the dark side.
The movie was packed with fun and I will certainly see it again....
Anni questions?, mom?
See the current Gregory Crewdson show at the Luhring Augustine Gallery in Chelsea. The show is a bit of a blockbuster and because of the crowds it might take some time until it is your turn to bring your nose so close to each one of the Photographs that you can almost smell suburbia, see the and maybe hope to see hints of grain or discoloration in Crewdson’s work. All visitors seem to do this and they seem rewarded by an obsessive richness of detail in each one of the images. The work looks good, the show is plentiful and all so extensive and complex that only the overseas visitor might bear to see it only once. Whoever can will probably return to the scene and take a closer look, again, move their noses even closer to the images, discover new and fascinating details, see the and smell the flowers, or the gutter, or the skin or the police car.
Some of the photographs are a bit like paintings, meticulously composed with drawings and plans and just the right props. Some started as black and white works and seem to have been colored for this show, to give them better consistency. All of the work seems printed on paper, all in the same size, and all of the work seems to have a very nice, high density of information. More so than most of the currently prized work from the Düsseldorfer Schule, which might be larger in scale sometimes, but not quite as dense.
Crewdson just as Wall (thank you for the link, Todd), is a “cinematic” photographer. The images we see here feel like stills shot in elaborately constructed worlds in high budget Hollywood productions. The show sometimes gives the impression of a multiplex with 20 movies on strange aspects of the inside of suburbia, including alien abduction and covered up abuse.
There is probably a thick layer of reality in these stills, but it is sealed in a story, a sculpture, an installation. This might seem like a completely new concept, but in fact is a return to what painting often used to be before there was, well, the silver screen.
The show is free and definitely worth a visit. If you can not go or do not want to travel, take a look at the Twi which could very well be the catalogue for the exhibition. The book will not break your budget and you can move as close to the paper as you want and nobody will get angry if you leave nose stains in your book. You might.
Now (again) you can visit some art at the DIA Center without leaving this browser. The center just recently launched a new project by Jeanne Dunning, called Tom Thumb Notes Towards a Case History. A stunning little collection of pages focused on the exploration of the Tom Thumb fairy tale, among other, quite fascinating little tales. If you have a weak stomach and would like to deal with the theoretical angle of the work and how it relates to Freud, Ödipus, Doctors Wolf and Wolff, as well as Sara Tucker, just read the Introduction to the Introduction. If you always wanted to become a Veterinarian because of the romantic aspects of this work, especially as a country doctor, take a closer look at this deep link.
All in all a wicked little web art project filled with fascinating little animations and well researched illustrations. Intelligent and definitely worth a visit. Thumbs up.
When I dropped off my watch in December of 2001, I could not expect that it would take five months for the work to be completed and for me to have my watch again. It does sound like quite a long time, doesn’t it? I am very glad that the wait is over.
I explained the story of the watch a tiny bit about a month ago. You do not need to click...
I had given my good old black ORIS alarm to Juvelier Pletsch in Frankfurt in December of 2001r. There was nothing wrong with the watch, it is simply a mechanical piece that needs lubrication every two years or so, just like a car needs a change of oil. My Oris alarm had not been opened since 1996, so the oil change was long overdue. My daily interaction with the watch was slowly leaving marks. The winder was almost stripped of chrome, and there seemed to be some resistance whenever the alarm needed to be set. (It is a wrist alarm, a minimal mechanical PDA.) My ORIS wrist alarm will be 10 years old soon, but only on the outside. The reason why I had bought the watch in the first place was its strange age discrepancy between the watch and its inside. The mechanism that runs the watch was built in 1969 by A.Schild , the same year when I was born (the design was from 1930, I think). ORIS bought the last contingent of these alarm mechanisms and repackaged them in 1988. Giving the watch in to Pletsch, I had a s feeling that there would be some sort of complication. This particular ORIS watch is a pretty limited item with a very limited amount of spare parts available to the dealers. (When I dropped off the watch it was one of those moments when the entire store staff comes together to take a look at the thing I brought). Even though there was nothing really wrong with the watch, the Watchmakers concluded that the ORIS needs to be sent home to Biel in Switzerland to get a new glass and a new electroplating on the entire housing. The Chrome had microscopic faults in it by now, which were caused by all the temperature changes over time and my really bad abuse of the watch in the first years. The tiny cracks destroyed the left sleeves of almost all of my shirts and even several sweaters.
I agreed that now was the time for the watch to go onto this serious adventure, to travel back to Switzerland and to get a new lease on life. Pletsch called the Manufacturer in Switzerland just to find out that there were no housings that could be used as replacement, so the entire watch needed to be taken apart, stripped to the brass and re-chromed. Everything. The winders the lugs, all of it. Then the new glass... Then the regular lubrication process, and the simple resealing.
The entire procedure, including shipping took five months. I have the watch back. I have the feeling that the glass was not replaced, but this probably means that there are no replacement glasses for this watch anymore. The chrome looked truly fantastic for the first half hour or so, but there is some sort of a small bubble on the left hand side, which might mean that there will be more trouble. I have a one year guarantee on the work and will probably wait and see what will happen.
I know that I sound really obsessed about this watch, but it has shown me so many good times as bad times. In order to run, it needs my attention, as I have to wind it at the same time every day. It is my alarm and reminder, and by now I almost have the feeling that it is a unique piece. I know it is not, but it seems impossible to find even a picture of a black ORIS wrist alarm online. I knew about the part shortage for quite a while now and have been checking eBay for this particular model for several years now. Not once have I seen this watch. (Other versions of it, maybe, but never this most modest one, a black ORIS wrist alarm.)
Mine has the serial number 420-7387 B (for black) 5520.
I will post a scan tomorrow... (Am I strangely obsessed with the wrong things?)
I have been observing some movement across the street. There is a large truck and a crane and two strangely angled, huge, wrapped packages. They look like straight out of Christo’s dreams. Good thing that there is a URL on everything these days. So now I can be sure that what is being threaded into the entrance of the bank across the street is a set of two Schindler escalators. I guess they are the Schindler 9300 kind, guessing from the size of the packages and the building. How exciting it that.
Crazy that they ship these things in one piece.
You should see how they thread them through these narrow doors... Oh wait, I am taking pictures. So you will see. Soon. What am I, digital?
It is 9:44, a second truck just arrived. Even more Schindler’s gifts. These packages are huge.
A coastline can somehow be a two dimensional experience, there is the water, here is the beach we stand on. The waves take a good aim, lift their white fists and pound them more or less violently against the shore. The ocean comes by and brings some sand.
What I just saw outside the window was a bit like that, except in 3D and with 60 frames per second. Waves of violent rain struck one after the other onto the tar of streets and roofs. Cars with their s on seem to move in channels of dark gray transparent matter, touching not the ground, but the reflection of an identical car upside down emerged in this seemingly very viscose material.
We have big plans for today. We will need to get outside. Break some umbrellas again.
Time for me to lean outside the door and to pick up the Times. My strangely cinematic dreams make me see the world in pseudo poetic colors this morning. I might need a tiny reality check.
We almost did not get into the Hotel. The entire area was packed with visitors and police. We were late. Even in the elevator there were more people than there should be. The room was not very big. It had two windows of which only one opened. I wanted to look him eye to eye. I leaned out. There he was. He was much bigger than I had imagined. The weather was perfect, my camera was very lame. I managed to get a few blurry shots. Now I can say that I saw him. He was very close, very big. Patched up and on his way down to macy’s. It was my first parade. And it was the first time that I was this close to spiderman.
Are you a priest, or a pastor, do you have trouble with your meetings, the holy mass is a mess? For you, my son, there is Worship-Leader a specialized application for Priests and Pastors who want to keep their sheep flock on track and singing in the right key. The interface is confusing, the usability could be better and the colors chosen used green/pink (white and gold would have been nice, or black with little white accents). Oh, just download it and enjoy. Available for Mac-os9.
My friend Martha almost lost her job as a teacher of the United Nations pre school in Kraków, when she decided that it would be nice for the children to draw little Marias and burning hearts for mother’s day a few years ago. In Poland such iconography, while obviously of Christian origin has a sly different meaning. Maria is the mother of the nation and a universal symbol of motherly love, and a burning heart is more a symbol of passion than anything else. The children of diplomats understood. Drawing Marias made sense in the context of Kraków, a city probably more saturated with Christian symbols than Rome. Their parents were a little less understanding of course and for a good reason as well. How would an ambassador of Vatican feel if his 5 year old son decorated his playroom with large Stars of David or a crescent moon, or both. (Oh, wait... Impossible.)
Why all this seemingly unrelated writing? One of the drawings above is obviously more of an expression of passion than it is a drawing of a burning heart. Don’t we all find ourselves looking for symbols of childhood comfort when trapped in moments of helplessness and sadness?
And please do not send me emails that I am renouncing myself from my religion three times before the rooster cries in the morning. I always had my own little angles and views at all this, and this is a longer story and will be dealt with later.
Who knew, who knew. I made it to #6 on Capn Design’s Top 10 List. I would probably not really care. (You know I do care.) But I am right behind Tom Waits. I will not argue with this particular selection. I am certainly not as good as Tom Waits. Never will be. What makes me feel a bit less comfortable is that I am higher on the list that G*d-Man. (G*d!, Man!) and even higher than the author’s sister! Hmm.
I guess I should not complain. The excuse why I did not make it to #1 sounds very honest. It is my writing. It is not quite there yet. Give me some time, please. (I will never be better than Tom Waits though...)
The site also contains one of my favorite Photos on blogs: NYC Reporter can you see this natural posture, or how he holds the microphone? (please also note the traffic .)
A nice snapshot from around ground zero.
I do not even know where to begin. I used to sign my name by adding a little drawing of my face as part of my signature. (Yes, it was all over my credit cards, and even in some legal documents.) I am a left handed, completely right brained person. I have a blog. I even have a T-Shirt that says “I did this.” in German. (It is actually “I was the one who did it”, or “Ich wars”)
Today somebody showed me the website of a guy, who is/does/has all of the above, except he is a funny and very smart writer.
So if you are here because you think that this blog is funny, head over to tremble - I did this, and upgrade yourself. Cheers. I will keep on drawing. ; )
Some of the aero-drawings might at first not seem to be related to flying at all. In drawings as in photography like to amplify elements that seem to be less important to the casual observer sometimes. Just as the 600x250 photographs could be seen as photographic sketches of moments on the margins of daily casual daily perception, the small drawings can simply focus on objects or ideas of objects that are there, but seem to be only a tiny piece of a larger idea. (More is part of a much larger idea than we usually like to admit, and isn’t our perception of wholeness of certain objects also triggered by our very human scale as well? We “are” because of our subjectivity.)
The aero drawings here might be of a terminal and probably windows in a plane? I do not want to be quite sure. The drawings connect to memories of reality on one hand, but they also become independent over time, making them less illustrations of moments passed, and more their own moment generators.
I like flying. I like the strangeness of airports. I like how airplanes almost enter the gates, how the gates almost enter the planes. Air-travel is such an odd mode of transportation. All the waiting for the plane, all the waiting in the plane, all the long, long waiting for the plane to do something. Something quite spectacular. Waiting for the plane to finally arrive. Waiting for the baggage.
There is so much excitement in flying. Passive excitement. Exciting waiting.
I have been drawing small drawings in airports and on planes for several years now. Drawing while waiting.
From now through the end of the month I will post two new images a day from my aero-collection. The drawings are blue-black ink on paper and about 5x8".
First of all, I should not be complaining. They gave me sushi, they gave me wine, they showed me some stationery. All they wanted in return was my address, so they can send me some paper samples. I am an AIGA member after all, so this should be part of my good life. It seems that I have not attended these events for a while now, because it was just me and people I did not know. Not the best scenario at a party. There was great excitement about the presented business cards and about the digital watermarks. The finger-food was quite excellent and the crowd must have been some real big shot designers. (They were all dressed very nicely, spoke loudly and blocked the way to the free bar.)
I guess I should have called all my friends who work in the neighborhood to join me and to make some fun of the crazy Strathmore gallery crowd. But it was too late, I do not know any phone-numbers, and I really thought the event was invitation-only and I found out about it today. How many more excuses can I come up with tonight?
I ended up speaking to some people (they started) who just went on and on complaining about their clients and co-workers. They even wanted me to complain. But why? All of my clients so far were either fantastic or great, or just plain smarter than me. And my co-workers tend to be more talented or more experienced, or if not that, then at least more daring than me. I had nothing to complain about. What am I, a chicken? We talk far too much. We should talk less and draw more. (you will need to scroll down a bit.)
the sky just turned dark blue and brown. another spectacular sunset over the east coast, ladies and gentlemen. We are enjoying a beautiful, beautiful sunset. Oh, and the moon is really cool too. Just FYI. ; )
Looks like the web is a tiny village after all. Beautiful Gardens, ideas, all bloom. It was brought to my attention today that I have a Neighboring blog. That deals with beautiful things like real plants and real places. Real movable land, not just type. I think that this is quite beautiful. I like the site. It is so and so to the point. And I like the products too. Plant carriers and soft planters. And there is also a blog. A beautiful garden. Go visit. Maybe tonight?
Instead of uploading 50 Files at a time, I will upload two or three, to make it a bit easier for all of us to actually see the slowness of the development.
The drawings here are from a more recent dense series. They are drawings that grow organically rather than following classic composition rules. The drawings begin with certain centers of energy (their number and location varies) and then grow from these, until a critical mass is reached. There are certain rules in these drawings, like the drawing direction, numbers of parallels, gravity.
I will eventually add them to a new category in the catalogue, but for now, they do not even seem to have a real name. ( I wanted to call them “complex drawings”, but the word complex seems to have more than just the desired meaning, so I am told.)
Drawings are blue-black ink on paper, size is about 8x10". If you have a suggestion how these could be called, please feel free to comment.
Again, there are many of these in a series. And here are various series, based on various criteria and growth patterns.
Michael Dodt just sent me a link to a great flash site of a new Knoll workstation system which will be available for order entry tomorrow. The new Knoll system is called A3, just like the German paper size. (It is twice as big as A4, and just half as big as A2). The designers of the system are Hani Rashid and Lise Anne Couture.
The site is supposed to be a companion to a printed brochure, but I think it does work great just the way it is. (I have not seen the printed piece, of course.) The site uses flash appropriately, as a tool to display information, not to flash it. I like that.
I sense that A3 is somehow an answer to Herman Miller’s Red. Yes, Red the URL does not seem to work anymore and neither does it seem possible to find “red” furniture on the Herman Miller site. Hmm.
A3 different link) looks like a lot of fun. It looks very intimate and quiet. It might be a tiny bit too large for our apartment but an office filled with these workstations must look like the future seen from 1999. (Bright and happy) I have the feeling that many office managers will still opt for the Swedish alternative. IKEA as the conservative choice. What a strange world do we live in.
Still sly confused about the Herman Miller move. What if I wanted parts?
Today’s sunrise is one of those dark orange ones. One with a blue-black sky. I tried to take pictures of its glow in the surrounding buildings, but the camera seems asleep. The is actually still too weak, so that the exposure times scream for a tripod. I am not awake enough to set one up now.
I am fascinated by the same thought every time I see a spectacular sunrise or sunset. These events take place simultaneously on this planet 24 hours a day. The sun will rise in California in three hours, and my friends and family in Europe are now six hours into the day, while somewhere else, on the other side of the globe, there is definitely a spectacular sunset somewhere. And there might be somebody writing into their blog that they would like to take a picture, but the , the is so weak and they are too tired to setup a tripod. Good morning, good night, have a great, great day.
It is impossible to scan a diamond. I put it on the scanner, and it just turns into this white flash of light. Impossible.
I have found many things in the streets of New York. I found a wallet once. With $300 in cash and all the papers and several credit cards. I found the owner too, with a bit more effort, and gave it right back to her. She pulled out $40 out of the very wallet I gave her and paid me the finders fee. I thought that was very nice.
I found a fur hat once in Times Square. It was in the middle of the night, I was cold. The streets were almost empty. What can I tell you. A nice hat.
I found a jar full of pennies, which a homeless person must have dumped out of frustration, down in TriBeCa. Free Coffee. (I rolled them up first.)
Two days ago: a diamond. At least two, maybe three carat. Big. Cold.
It was just there, in the gutter, on West End Avenue and 93rd street.
Diamonds have this fire. You look into the face of a diamond and it just lights up. No electricity needed. It just goes *bam*. It only goes bam in one direction though. Each diamond is actually one of two twins. Diamonds represent macroscopically what they are microscopically. They look like large carbon molecules. So these objects need to be cut in the middle before they can be further prepared. Not sure what the proper term for that is. The diamond then gets all the facets, all the faces, all of them in the appropiate angles to capture the light, to make the diamond glow. In one direction. Towards its missing twin.
So when the diamond lay there in the gutter, it was face down, not glowing at all. Just a tiny, tiny bit. I walked by it at first. Did not notice it, except from the corner of my eye. I walked back, looked down and yes, there it was, this little white cone. I picked it up and wow: shining little star in the palm of my hand. Millions of years under extreme pressure made this one glow so bright. What was I supposed to do? There was no phone number on this it. It did not come with a driver’s license. Even throwing it into the postal box would probably not be the solution. I carried it home. It was cold, it was big. It was a New York City Street Diamond.
I own a Swiss army knife, one with a magnifying glass. Good enough to give the Diamond a nice inspection. It was a bit like in a movie. It was me and the Diamond of 93rd street. We had a little talk. We looked each other in the eye. The Diamond told me she was Glass. A nice big Glass “diamond”. Bright and shiny, but a bit hurt from the fall into the gutter, tiny scratches on one side. Glass. A diamond is forever. Glass lasts 15 minutes.
I tried to scan my “Diamond” in, so I can show it here in the blog. It does not want to be scanned. It is cut well enough to shine right back into the scanner and to make bright digital streaks. Oh well. Nice piece of Glass.
Just out of fun. In a corner of the scanner area, I pressed the corner of my Glass diamond against the scanner glass. My Glass Diamond, angry as she was, left a deep, tiny scratch. Very interesting. We will need to have another talk.
Mario Lalich has a very nice flash site with exciting photographs. Rounded corners everywhere, smooth movement, minimalistic interface. (o = one, t = two, ss = snapshots, b = bio(graphy), c = contact, i = index page). The images are obviously high quality, some are quite funny, the snapshots look like much more than that. Each Gallery has 17 well picked images. I will definitely add Mario to the link section. Thank you for the link, Sophia.
There was an article in today’s Spiegel, the popular German News magazine comparable maybe to the “Economist” in the English speaking world. The article: Großeinsatz: Mit Pistole und 1000 Schuss Munition ins Kino, tells the story of an 18-year-old in Frankfurt, who went to a cinema to see the movie “Blade II”. He apparently also had some other plans. He showed off an Air Pistol (a Smith & Wesson) to a friend outside the theater, loaded it through and mumbled something of “shooting”. This alarmed the Cinema staff who called the Police. Upon arrival the Police found the man in the last row of the movie theater, the gun on him, and also with him one thousand pieces of ammunition. The man claimed to have bought the weapon on that same day. He was taken into custody and later but there is now a criminal investigation against him for illegal possession of a weapon. Not a surprise after recent events in Erfurt.
I wanted to write about the story, because the amount of ammunition seems quite excessive and because the story took place in Frankfurt, the city where I worked for the last few years before coming to the US.
I was not quite sure if all the terms I used to describe the story were quite correct, so I pasted the short feature into Babelfish, the popular Alta Vista translator.
I found the results so funny, that I decided to let the Babelfish eat its own translation from English to German and then Babel everything back again, maybe three or four times, until the story turned into the following, sly DaDa-esque creation:
Extensive use with ammunition of the pistol and 1000 of the shot in the cinema with an air pistol and ammunition with 1000 shots announced a young person in Frankfurt/Main into a cinema.
Frankfurt/Main - in the opinion of the police the 18-year, which is old to a witness, and comes in as, the cinema was on Friday evening perceptibly been, because it left a weapon of the trousers in the relationship with the words for a shooting case of companion "forms", drew and these through-loaded demonstratively. The causing interest police the changed over cinema and temporarily held the man, who from activity wanted to watch out the film "sheet II" and into the rear cinema row, sat. With holding the officials found an air pistol of the marking Smith and Wesson as well as approximately 1000 balls, which were loaded with round balls. The young man showed weapon and ammunition on the same day in Frankfurt on to have bought. Against the 18-year that, which is newer again old on free foot, adjusts, which represented police an introductory investigation because of the activity against the weapon law became.
Wow. Wild stuff. One thousand balls loaded with round balls.
I recently read somewhere that American soldiers now use some “simple automated translators” to help them find the whereabouts of certain terrorists and to communicate with locals. I hope they use some advanced technology...because otherwise there will be some “Extensive use with ammunition...” again...
It is raining outside and I slept for maybe four hours or so. Today will need to be devoted to those less creative things. Getting rid of at least a portion of my Postcard collection seems like a perfect use of time. I just send about 10 pounds of postcards to the recycling bin. No worries, no important historical Documents among them. The postcards I am throwing away today are those “free” ones, the ones from M@xRacks and GoCard. I have so many of these, that throwing away three boxes does not even feel noticeable. I just used to take ten at a time. Yes, I am one of those people whom I hate myself. I was responsible for some of the good ones missing when you wanted them, maybe. But after browsing through the hundreds and hundreds of them, I think I was only responsible for the bad ones disappearing. My collection are mainly bad postcards. Some really bad. And plenty of them.
There are many more postcards at my parents’ place in Germany. A friend once gave me the half of her parents’ collection. Her Parents used to travel extensively in the 60’s, but had decided not to take any photographs themselves, just buy the postcards available in those various villages and little towns all over Europe. I remember that the postcards were quite good, but this is what I thought of my free post card collection as well.
I am not alone. Martin Parr (what a man!) has his collections of Boring Postcards and as far as I know, (or as far as I learned from McSweeney's Issue 6), Walker Evans’s collection of several thousand postcards is now at the Metropolitan... Hidden somewhere, deep inside the museum.
This one is hard to miss. This one is international. Unlike the obviously locally celebrated Father’s day. Mother’s day is a big deal.
I am an only child. My mother was not. She was the oldest, she was the one who knew all the tricks, who ran the show, who knew how to delegate the troops. She later became a teacher, I only knew her as a teacher. A teacher in my school. I was lucky that she was not my teacher. She was a super tough one. Everybody was a bit afraid of her. She also had one of the highest ranks in ZHP, the Polish Girl and Boy Scout organization. So she was very busy. Teaching, organizing, preparing events. I was the kid that was around when these things happened. I would spend my afternoons in the back of a classroom with older kids. Learning things I was not supposed to know until years later. I would be called in to illustrate certain problems on the black board, or to explain certain things to the class from the perspective of the younger child, or sometimes to explain what the other class had heard.
When it came to these Scout events. I always found myself surrounded by a group of people who somehow cared for me. My mom would care for them.
And then, when I could not come with her, I would stay home, with my father, who would be often so incredibly tired from working through the night, or working on the coal mine emergency team, that he would just sleep.
And then I was alone.
I would find these exciting parenting books and somehow figure out how I was doing compared to children of my age.
My mother is not a teacher anymore. When we moved to Germany, all of us had to learn the new language. Teaching was not an option for her. She now works for a bank.
One story just came to my mind that somehow really illustrates the interaction I had with my mother when I was a child.
Somebody started throwing stones. I am not sure who or why it was. I happened to be on the wrong side. These two boys just would not let me and my friend Zbyszek alone. We tried to hide, but they would just keep picking up new stones and throwing them at us. What I remember very clearly is how I picked up a stone and how I threw it at one of the boys. My logic was that I really did not want to hit him in the eye. So I must have waited for the moment when he turned around to run away. I threw my stone. I swear it was the first and last stone I have ever thrown at anybody. I hit the kid right in the head. Like that. He was so far away. My aim is not the best. This stone just flew so perfectly and hit him right in the back of his head. There was blood everywhere. The stone had cut him so well, he needed to go to the hospital to get several stitches.
I ran home. My mother came home from work hours later. When I told her what happened she listened like a therapist and then just asked me a strange question. She asked me if I had a toy that I really, really wanted. I clearly wanted this fantastic new radio controlled car! (silly question.)
We went to buy the car. The best toy ever. I think it was a police car. The remote control turned on the s and such.
We bought the car. And then... I had to give the car to the boy. With an apology. Well, he was happy. Everybody wanted that car. Now he had it. (and several stitches)
I was not really hurt. I had learned a lesson, but the solution was somehow smarter than I had expected. I was afraid of punishment. My punishment was the reward for the other kid. I never threw a stone again. I never got a real remote controlled car... (until last year, but that’s another story...)
My mother would surprise me with these unexpected solutions to seemingly hopeless situations. I was always very impressed.
Oh yes, and she is a great cook, but I guess every mother is. Except that my mother was not a single child. So even though it was only me and my father (and the dog), we would get the really big, large family portions of food. The serious stuff. My mother is the only person I know who can pile up soup. (she really can...)
And I remember her in the moments of real danger. I remember this one time when we were in the mountains on one of those ski lifts, after a storm. It was us and her class on some excursion in the mountains. This huge tree decided to fall directly on us. A large fir. A serious mountain tree, just came down crashing at us. Hitting the steel line of the lift exactly in the spot where we were sitting. It hit my mother, but not me. She grabbed me and protected me with her body. We then flew up and down several times. The touching the floor with our feet just to shoot up into the sky seconds later. There was a soldier in a seat in front of us who was courageous enough to jump off this vibrating string and to call the station, so they stopped the lift. The tree had to be removed before we could continue our ascend. (We were so lucky the line did not snap, or just fall off the guiding tracks.
The other time seemed more serious personally. A cleaning person had the idea to fill a cleaning agent into a coke bottle and to leave this poison in the teacher-dressing-room. The cleaner was a concentrated, brown liquid, it was a summer day and I was very, very thirsty. My mother was a teacher, so according to school law I would change my shoes in this dressing room, with this “cold coke” waiting for me. It did not even take a second for the chemical to completely burn out the inside of my mouth. The chemical did not have a taste, it only had pain, because it destroyed all taste buds as it “worked” in my mouth. I remember my mother appearing almost out of nowhere and mobilizing half school to get me milk (not an easy one in Poland in the 70’s as I remember), so I could quickly get the poison out of my system. I was very lucky. I had not inhaled enough to actually swallow enough of the substance and so I only destroyed the inside of my mouth.
Just a few days before that, a kid at another school had died as the chemical burned through his esophagus.
I will not be able to visit my mother today. She is in Germany and I am here in New York. I have not seen her for almost a year now. We speak on the phone at least once a week. We make each other laugh.
She taught me quite a lot. More than she might sometimes think. I think the greatest thing is the balance between her and my father. They are so completely different from each other. Both quite wonderful in their very own ways. It must be hard for them. I am their only child and here I am so far away, on another continent, speaking a this third foreign language. They came to visit when it was easier for them to fly. They have not been in New York for almost four years now. Last time they came here was for my wedding.
How could anybody ever read this much online?. If you made it this far, let me post a picture for you. This one is also from Poland. The happy guy is me. And yes, this is my mother. Happy Mother’s day everyone.
The new edition of SHIFT is out. The current issue is #066 (note the leading zero).
Taketo Oguchi brings us more de. Among other things a cover and an interview by the grand British Illustrator, Pete Fowler, father of places like MONSTERISM and also responsible for some Super Furry Animals’ looks. (Hair, or no hair).
Hey, I just discovered that * saas fee * have contributed their greeting cards to this issue as well. Moni and Alex used to be the founding members of Arosa 2000, this little gallery we had in Frankfurt/Main in Germany some time ago in the last century. (Michael Dodt was the major force who made this project possible.) So some of the places you see in the cards are inspired by real Frankfurt locations. It is a tiny world after all. Gute Nacht.
Almost forgot to post a second impression of the Jerry Phillips show at feature inc. The show has a different hanging now then when I saw it the first time, there seem to be more drawings, the hanging is more dense. The bird drawings did not seem as strong now as I remembered them, but probably only because of the excellence of the surrounding, more abstract works. Some of the drawings seem to be like sly out of focus, over exposed photographs. Wires, grass, objects on the outskirts of daily perception. The exhibition was definitely worth a second visit. (will be worth a third and fourth.) The drawings are quite superb. We saw at least two visitors who did not only look at the drawings, but also looked around, to share their astonishment. A private conversation with great art that packs a real punch. I had the camera with me, yet again chose not to take pictures. The drawings are there, but they seem to disapear when looked at through the lens.
Not sure how many of the drawings are still available for sale. We were considering several, but could not quite decide. yet. (I have the feeling we will have to make that decision quickly. I would not be surprised if most of the pieces were already in bought up by collectors.)
I did not come up with this title. One of the advantages of subscribing to the New York Times is to be a day ahead on the weekend. It is nice to get the big parts of the weekend paper on Saturday, not with the “bulldog” on Sunday. The (tiny) disadvantage is that I can not put a link to an article from the Sunday New York Times, because it is not, well, Sunday.
Manhattan Mecca for Art Lovers is a feature by Roberta Smith about the Chelsea-Meatpacking district area of Manhattan, “the arguably world’s largest gallery neighborhood”. 170 Galleries pretty dense together. New restaurants, new places to refuel other senses too, in an area where Taxis were the ones visiting repair shops just a few years ago.
I am keeping this post very short, because I was on my way out to see one of the shows in exactly this area. We are going to see the current Jerry Phillips show at Feature Inc. on 530 West 25th street.
Have a wonderful day. The weather here is fantastic. I also have the feeling that the weather is quite great in Europe too. (Not as many visitors to this site as on a usual Saturday morning.)
Here is some web-inspiration for all of us.
1. sountain:::::inspirations (quite a serious collection of links to sites that bring great joy to all of those creative, or those working with the web, or both, or just those surfing. Why are we here anyway?
2. Designhaus :: Complete List, another list of links, this time sorted by special categories. And the agencies are here too. Some of the links listed are just UFOs, but that is a good thing too, isn’t it?
3. BD4D />.Creative Fight Club* by designers, for designers. (like a wild, wild international blog)
Once you are done with all of them, please make sure to come back.
Thank you for the fantastic links, Shu Hung. : )
I will just make it a separate, minimal post. Read the Tadao Ando interview from the current issue of Architectual Record. It is brief, billiant and to the point.
One should get the Architectural Record at least once a year. For all of those who do not want to deal with yet another subscription, just spend the seven dollars on the May issue of the record. It is a really (really) good one. Yes, the website is good, of course. It is quite worth a visit too. But nothing beats the little journey into articles and interviews with Glenn Murkutt or with the AIA Gold Medal winner this year, Tadao Ando (love his work in concrete), and the unbelievably wild adventures in architecture in general. All tucked away between advertising for products like Copper or Steel.
The May issue discusses the thinking that is due for the World Trade Center site, focuses on ing, sheds on stunning stadium projects from Sapporo to Miami, the Neue Gallerie on New York’s Upper West Side and even the Chancellery in Berlin.
The issue is a great starting point for those who want to know just who is who in current streams of architecture, as it lists those who were distinguished by the American Institute of Architects 2002 honor awards. Pages and pages of pretty stunning projects. No wonder some architects feel as the ultimate artists. (So do some directors too.)
I had great fun browsing through the issue. If you can not get the magazine where you live. Expect some commentary on this site.
The weather is so excellent in New York today. (And probably not only here.) I forgot to bring a camera, but I will take a walk now. I got some of the most encouraging emails in the last few days and they were so good that I was not able to reply right away. I think I have a problem here. It is somehow really difficult for me to reply to really good emails.
I think I am going to have another hiyashi now. The weather is really great in New York, and probably not only here. What is your weather like? Right now. No matter what time it is?. (Talking about the weather seems like a lame escape, doesn’t it?) Leaving the office now. Hiyashi here I come.
The summer is officially back in Manhattan. Hiyashi is available at Sapporo in Midtown. Sapporo is one of those restaurants that are not easy to find online. The place is located on 49th street and 7th avenue. They do not accept credit cards. They only sell Hiyashi during the summer season.
Hiyashi are cold, square noodles with various toppings in a cold sour soup that needs to be mixed with spicy Japanese mustard before consumption. We used to eat Hiyashi a lot when our office was downtown. There was this great little noodle shop just south of the world trade center. It did not even have an English name, I think. The people who worked there were super nice. Mayumi was one of them. She was on the subway when the plane hit the world trade center. The train had stopped and then just like the other trains pulled back, but stayed in the tunnel. She later told me that she was stuck in the train for quite a while, while all the horrible things were happening above ground.
Sapporo is usually very crowded during lunch time, so I was happy to get a real table seat. Their Hiyashi is not quite as good as downtown used to be, but it is still good.
One other advantage of eating at Sapporo is getting this extra minute waiting for the on seventh avenue, staring at the Great Sign on 745 Seventh Avenue, designed by imaginaryforces. Quite a wild experience in itself. Twirling saving banks, shaking hands, bridges and sunsets. Things that one might somehow associate with money.
Crossing the street the other way, allows to look at the reflection of the sign in the polished and still stunning 750 7th Avenue, which I like to call “the finger pointing back at God”. But that’s just me.
I am going off topic again. Time for a completely different post.
How is anybody supposed to know? There is an onslaught for Mother’s day which will happen this weekend. And then, every year, out of the blue, there is the German Father’s day. Surprises me every year, and I usually call too late, or I forget completely taking away from some of my father’s happiness when he is surrounded by celebrating fathers in Germany, who enjoy a day off of work. So how am I supposed to know? I placed a reminder in my date thingy software (no names here this time). And what does this software do to me? (this is why I will mention no names). It reminds me randomly of the “Father’s day in Germany” since. Really. Randomly. It sometimes goes for weeks without reminders and then there are these little spurts of blinking every two days or so. So I have to admit that I am a bit desensitized. I have a computer program that cried “dad” too much.
I need not to say that pretty much lucked out with my dad. He gave me the first pencil and showed me how to draw. He put it in my left hand and boy, tests revealed later that I turned out to be a complete lefty, (I kick the ball with my left foot and even look through the camera with my left eye, to name a few examples here.) My dad was a photographer (he admitted using a package of large photographic paper that he would carry around with him, to draw attention from girls, what a man!) He gave me his camera to “play” with, when I was 6. He took me into the darkroom around that age too. He taught me that movies use actors to show stories that did not necessary happen this way, he taught me that in some rare occasions, news can do the same. He taught me to believe in myself, in the future and in the good in people, he taught me so much, that I do not even want to try to put it all here. I will just attach a picture to this post. My dad is probably somewhere around my current age in the picture, maybe a bit younger. The little guy in the center, that’s me. You see how my dad is holding us? This is because he took the picture on our balcony in Poland, with a self timer, using his Praktina. The same camera I still use to shoot pictures today. (He gave it to me when he came to visit me in New York a few years ago. And do you see that I am holding something in the picture that looks like a little camera? It is the meter. My father had me measure the for this shot. And you can see that I was pretty serious about it.
I just spoke to my dad. He is doing quite well. A state garden show is on in Hanau/Germany, where my parents live. So I am actually quite happy not to be there today, because of my allergies. My dad was very happy that I am doing quite well too. He said that he could have never imagined that one day I would go somewhere, across the ocean and work on projects that he could not have imagined. He also did not think that I would ever write so much in a Language that he does not speak. I know he comes to visit this page sometimes, just to see if I am still OK... So what can I say?
Dziekuje Ci tato za wszystko. Jestes wspanialy i ja bardzo Cie kocham.
I am sure this is what my father would have said to his father, if they had ever had the chance to talk. But because of where we were in Europe after the war they never even had a chance to meet.
It was supposed to be the roll for the film exchange project, but then the was so perfect when I walked by the Gagosian Gallery, that I could not resist. It took so long to take the pictures. There were cabs missing me just sly, honking, to remind me to get back onto the sidewalk. It was all so tempting, such perfect twins are rare. They sit there quietly, on the west side of the gallery, guarding the entrances for large sculpture. The images when united are quite mind boggling. Such miniml amount of information, such closeness, and yet such flimmering, flimmering differences. It begins with the obvious cracks in the sidewalks. These will make the passing viewer pay more attention, maybe. And then the real insecurity begins. How close are they?, how far are they apart? How come the colors are so taken back in full sun? See the tiny differences in the doors? Nothing is perfect in the pictures, but only sly... I need to stop now. You should be the one writing this, not me. I took them. You write about them. If they do anything to you. Do they? Can you imagine them large, not the photographs, the twins?
The image above will be added to the Diptych section of the catalogue
It is supposed to be Damian Loeb's Unofficial Website, but I have the feeling, it is more of a private adventure of his. I was just about to update my link section here on the site and wanted to make sure his site is still up. And what happened?, he added some pretty funny little photo stories. Good fun. Parties, blurry people, a dentist visit, the f to Japan. All shot from the hip. Digitalomography.
Another addition to the site are the square outtake pictures, the smaller, square detail paintings of his more cinematic work. Take a look.
As much as I am not really crazy about his early work, his current stuff is really enjoyable and reminds us that Painting can be quite similar to shooting little movies, and that people used to go “see paintings” long before there were moving pictures or even photography.
I really hope Damian does not move much towards an Eric Fischl style in some of his paintings... (There is the hotel room, and the new small paintings have some sort of layer of rush in them...) Loeb and Fischl are represented by the same Gallery, but I really like Damian’s recent cinematic work much more, and he might be the better painter, if you dare to look at the stuff up close. (Will I be killed for that statement?, is this the end, before it even begun?)...
So let us hope that Damian will keep up his concentration and work hard on better and better paintings... And I am also looking forward to new photos... But that’s a different story...
Make sure you go. And bring your special glue sneakers. (Original Post)
An excellent little show.
Having my very first (this year), very special, not so happy allergy “attack”. Nothing too wild, except that I can not see with one (left) eye and it looks as if the skin around my iris would like to burst any second now, oh, and I can not close my eyelid. Nothing serious really. Not both eyes. It does not hurt anymore, at least not the way it did just a few minutes ago. So things are turning for the better. I completely forgot about my allergies. They got so much better here in New York. Did I mention that this is one more reason why I love this city? It does not give me 10% as many allergies as I used to get in Hanau, in Germany. There in mid May, cars get a neat coat of yellow pollen. I remember not being able to breathe, bad asthma attacks. It is not a good thing when it is so difficult to breathe that the things begin to dim and that there is this certain mild sense of panic.
My allergies were gone completely once I moved to New York. They were really gone. I did not realize that I spent the first two years in an office, working like a madman, 16 hours a day. Every day. Nature was the picture on my desktop. So once I started to understand that this “life” will cost me my life, and once I started to get out of the office again, the allergies came back. Not as harsh as in Germany or in Poland, not quite so bad.
The swelling on my eye got better already. I am able to close the lid now. Tiny happy pleasures. Closing the eyelid is certainly one of them. There is this famous Adam Mickiewicz quote, the first few lines from Pan Tadeusz - Ksiega I
Litwo! Ojczyzno moja! ty jestes jak zdrowie;
Ile cie trzeba cenic, ten tylko sie dowie,
Kto cie stracil. Dzis pieknosc twa w calej ozdobie
Widze i opisuje, bo tesknie po tobie.
Or in (almost plain) English:
O Lithuania, my country, thou
Art like good health; I never knew till now
How precious, till I lost thee. Now I see
The beauty whole, because I yearn for thee.
Not that I have lost Lithuania (guess why my name is Witold?), or lost health, it is just in moments when the body overreacts, or plays some tricks on me that I remember that whatever we perceive as the background, the status quo, the day to day body experience is quite a miracle we should always be thankful for. Really. Being able to walk and talk, me being able to write this, you being able to read this. It all is quite a great, fantastic, unbelievable miracle. This is why it is incredibly important to see the beauty in the tiniest, most normal things.
Swelling almost completely gone.
Now I can think much more clearly. Or so I think.
Today will be a warm, sunny, prefect day. I do not think I want to spend all of it in front of this screen. I will now take a walk. (Maybe a slow one.) I will try to keep my eyes open and rediscover places I thought I knew. It is always good to see things with a fresh set of eyes.
meet the rabbit !!! is quite excellent. 10KB of fun.
Click him. he will cling to you.
One image can maybe tell a thousand words, the space between two images can unveil a far more complex story.
Humans are not able to see except by comparison. Our eyes need to vibrate so sly to allow us to sustain vision at all, we see change best. Beauty is often defined by comparison of two or more states.
We see only what we know. Our vision is ballistic, predetermined, driven by intellect. Perception needs to be taught.
We see the world differently than our ancestors. The generations after us will see the world with different eyes.
The diptychs in the catalogue are worlds locked between two images. The images can be seconds apart, yards apart, some are the unification of reality and a distorted reflection of a completely different place or event. The images sometimes seem to be tiny elements of something larger. Together they sometimes express the idea that unites them, or they tell the story that is between them.
One of the roses below seems to be the original painting, the second one seems to be a good copy of the fist one. We pay more attention to both because of their so s differences. Both are the memory of the idea of a rose, a representation. We see them, understand them as two roses, but they are one and the same idea of a rose thought twice. Reunited at last.
Click on the image to see a larger version. The image will be added to the diptych section of the catalogue.
the sun is on its best behavior, there is spring in the New York air. Why am I not outside now?, why am I not jumping around taking pictures, or at least notes?... Grr.... I am going to leave this desk and just run out. No matter what.
It was a December day at the Louvre. Mona Lisa was waiting for her visitors in a toned, armored, transparent safe. Some of the visitors seemed to be there only for the picture, but did not want to admit it in front of others. Some needed to read about the portrait, while standing in front of it. Some just came to record their presence. Some came to make sure she was still there. Some came to see if she was there at all. Some came only for seconds. Some filmed her for minutes, as if they hoped that in this for her short period of time some miraculous event would happen. She just smiled at all of them equally, did not squint when they used flashes on their cameras. It was not really about her today again. It was about them being there, about them being part of something bigger. It was all about them. It was about their unique presence in time in one of the most easily describable places in this world, in front of one of the most easily recognizable pieces of art.
They were there, in front of *the* Mona Lisa. The one and only.
They were there for a brief private audience. Each one of them special.
She was there before them. I wonder how many of them really saw her.
She is destined to survive them all.
26 Photographs of Louvre visitors in front of the Mona Lisa are now in the catalogue. Enjoy.
While some of us were figuring out how to draw a picture on an amiga, Jørgen was taking timeless pictures of Venice. Just found this new Black and White gallery of photographs by the one and only Joergen Geerds. Some of us will never take pictures as good as these. He took them with 15?, 16?... Not sure. (If he reads this post, I will probably need to rewrite it.) Cheers.
Almost forgot to mention that the South Gallery of Marion Goodman hosts a really great show by Maurizio Cattelan. His work tends to have a great sense of humor. And this time too. It will hopefully make you smile. They are two Police officers. Department of housing. I should have pictures of the installation up soon. (Film is not developed yet.)
We will now leave the house and have some dinner. Most of you are either out to enjoy “datenight” or to see Spiderman?... More about both soon.
Somebody will probably really hate me for this, but the Struth show, well... Struth is an excellent photographer. Maybe his not quite as excellent of a director?, or maybe he should change casting agents? The five photographs, which make the current show at the Marian Goodman Gallery in 57th street, have this subtle feeling of discomfort about them. It was a bit like watching a movie and then one of the actors looks straight into the camera, a move not intended, and suddenly the magic is gone, there are zippers on the backs of monsters, the movie is a movie and not a magical world. The previously published Museum Photographs had a somehow magical feeling to them. The places were the long lived environments, the visitors were just visitors, and after generations the places will remain the same while new humans will move in same ways in front of some of the works of art. Struth’s intention to slow down, not to freeze time seems much better accomplished in his previous work. There is also a certain density fluctuation in the previously published photographs. People tend to crowd around certain pieces they know from books or from the catalogue, they tend to ignore great pieces of art that hang next to those with better reviews. The visitors in Struth’s Pergamon photographs seem like gas molecules, evenly distributed in rooms, because there was space and because they look nice as a composition. Some moving, some standing still, frozen in unusual interactions. (In Pergamon Museum I a visitor is shown a piece of sculpture by a restaurateur. They both look like a diorama from Madame Tussauds, taking on the role of a black hole in the viewer’s attention.) In the Pergamon Museum Photographs there are no real Pergamon visitors, there are actors, characters, types, a mixture of appropriateness. The museum turns into a backdrop, the proportions of importance flip. There seems to be some secret relationship between the photographer and his extras, not a love story between the photographer and the Architecture, or the , or time. I did not go into the show with the intention to be distracted by the actors, but I could not fight my perception of the photographs. I was not looking at the Pergamon, I was not even looking at Struth’s work anymore, I was engaged in finding characters from one image in the others. There is this young guy in blue and green puma sneakers who reappears in three out of the five images in the show. He is grouped with in different “interactions” every single time, plays a sly different role, but he is obviously the same guy, the same clothing. He points to something in the lower right corner of Pergamon Museum I (Which is, btw glued together from two pieces of paper, cutting some of the faces in half) and he is in the lower right corner looking towards the door in Pergamon Museum III. He sits on the bench in Pergamon Museum IV. I know this sounds petty, but there are at least three more people that were employed in various roles in various pictures, never changing clothes, making them quite distinguishable and distracting. I also know that these pictures will probably never hang together in one room again. They will find their way into museum collections and the private rooms of sophisticated collectors, one at a time. They look like what they probably even are, great art. They are quite excellent photographs, there is an almost natural amount of movement in most of them. They just have this uncomfortable aura of sly insecure dialogue in an otherwise perfect setting. Maybe if everything were off. Maybe if the titles were “the guy with blue-green sneakers I”, I would find it quite excellent. Or how about the idea to have new configurations of pictures, named differently. I guess this is a different concept to follow. Probably not by Struth.
The show is definitely worth a visit. It can be interesting to see how unnatural the configurations of visitors on Struth’s photographs seem at first, and how closely they resemble the natural movement of visitors in the gallery itself. Maybe the pictures are quite ingenious. Yes, they probably are. I am just seeing things again. I should just look and be amazed. I really tried. I tried. I will probably need to try again.
It is after one already?, still have not made it out of the house. Will go to see Struth at Marian Goodman Gallery now. Any minute now.
David Crawford had bought a tree for the office. Our office had no plants and he brought the first plant. It was this four foot tall corn plant tree. (I will need to investigate the real name.) David eventually left the company and left the tree for me to water. When the company moved to the Woolworth building, I took it home. It had grown just sly, but we got some serious looks on the subway, the tree and me, yes, even New Yorkers react to others sometimes. I tried to treat the tree well and it grew quite substantially. Today was the day to pass it on. You have to read the adventures of Eric "the Redd" Feliciano, as he picked up the tree from here, which is on 95th street and Broadway, to bring it home to Brooklyn. read the story!.
It was October 2001, the company moved to a temporary office on 21st street. I went out onto the roof after sunset and shot some pictures of the surrounding buildings. This was no Woolworth building anymore. We were in the heart of the Flatiron district again and nobody knew how long we would need to stay in the temporary office before returning downtown. The office never moved back. One of the shots is facing downtown. Where there used to be the towers, in October there was only a smoke cloud and the bright s shining for the rescue workers removing what was left of the World Trade Center.
As I was looking at links of the Filmexchange project participants, I came across this site:Tripledub with probably the craziest clock. Annoying but really funny... (worth a click)
Aboot 66 people know that I am one of the participants in the , a great little project organized by photojunkie from Toronto. I really wanted to shoot some unique pictures using a new stereo extension for my praktina, which I had found on eBay. I eventually realized that using the extension to take the pictures with a camera without a proper TTL meter was a complex experiment, and that the chances were quite good that none of the pictures would have come out. So I had to use the ContaxG2, the camera which does not belong to me and which I will need to give back quite soon, but which at the same time is the most reliable piece of professional photo equipment I could get hold of. My little Minilux is still at Leica, being fixed, and I just received a card yesterday informing me that the part needed for the repairs needs to be rdered from Germany. Maybe because it is a black Minilux, maybe because the shutters brake this often.
I will not disclose too much about the pictures I took, as you will soon see them on the site of AtlantaGeek he is going to be the curator of my roll, while I will be very happy to curate the roll of Hillary@Cluttered Life I really like her cover today.
So things are in motion. I am really looking forward to the further development of the project.
I also really need to thank David of Ten18 for giving me the keys of his downtown apartment so spontaneously. David used to have a close-up view of the World Trade Center. And he still has this great view of the Woolworth building, the first highest building in the world, the first electrically illuminated building in the world, the building that defined the look of all skyscrapers in New York from 1913 through the 60’s... And the building in which our office used to be, until September 11th 2001. So even if some of the photographs will be empty and of buildings or the sky, they will be quite personal and almost intimate. I am giving away too much, am I?
(A special thanks also to Colleen, for taking me to the roof of the current Organic office on 21st street, where there also used to be a great view of the Twin Towers, and where there is still a view of the Empire State Building. Which reminds me that I had found an old roll I had taken after we moved there, which I had scanned and which I should pick up now and also reminds me that I should really post some other pictures quite urgently.)
So please come beck in 2 hours or so. OK? )
When I grew up in Poland in the 70’s, one of the greatest achievements for a boy was to have a collection of those shiny western car catalogues. The paper quality of these print pieces was just superior to anything else we had and there were always these glimpses of the world on the other side of the iron curtain. My parents liked German Quelle and Neckermann catalogues more, of which I only liked the winter versions, as they included toys.
Car catalogues were simply the greatest thing. They were something of a currency among us boys. There were Stamps, of course, there were cans and there were these car catalogues. And as much as there are real shares on a stock exchange, one could also deal with options. The addresses to car dealerships in the west or to manufacturers in the west were like the options for the car catalogue currency. Dealing with them was more risky, of course, since they needed more work to turn them into car catalogues, but the reward of writing a letter to one of these addresses and receiving a shiny big envelope filled with the latest models of cars was one of the greatest things one could think of. The addresses were scarce because nobody wanted to create an “inflation”. The car manufacturer would never send out catalogues to 20 boys. One for sure, two, yes, five not very likely. We knew that they were paying money to send us the advertising material and we knew that we had to offer something. The letters we wrote were a bit like love letters. We would use many colors, draw cars, maybe the company logo. (If we knew what it looked like, of course.) Some brands just did not sound real. Some addresses just sounded too risky to exchange anything for. Who would be stupid enough to write to a company called “Rover”. Rower means Bicycle in Polish, so the Rover cars were a running joke of the playground. Other names were better known. Mercedes was a clear winner. Mercedes-Benz, just the sound of the brand was worth something. I shared the address of Volvo for the address of Mercedes-Benz in Paris. Zbyszek Waskiewicz was a very smart kid in my class. His mother was a teacher, like my mom, and he was smart enough to skip second grade. His worked in France. Zbyszek would deal with trading cards of French soccer players and was able to demand exorbitant amounts for them, because nobody else had “trading cards”. It seemed pretty logical that Zbyszek would give me a Mercedes-Benz address that happened to be in Paris. I thought that maybe his brought him the address. I copied every letter of the piece of paper he gave me onto an envelope, wrote my kind request in Polish, of course, and sent out the request letter to Mercedes-Benz in Paris, France. The letter eventually came back, all stamped up. The address was a fake. Good thing that I already had my Volvo catalogues, so chances were that Zbyszek did not even get his letter back, even though my address was very real.
Later, after we moved to Germany, I only drove Mercedes. They were old cars, but only Mercedes. I sold my last Mercedes just days before moving to the US. I now use public transportation, as having a car in New York City is a bit of a silly thing. (I can see the Subway station as I am writing this.)
I walked by the Mercedes-Benz dealership yesterday. I could not stop myself but to walk in and ask for the new SL catalogue. I am obviously not the little Polish boy anymore and I did not arrive there as a crayon drawn plea letter in Polish. The Salespeople did not want to help me. They claimed that they did not have anything on the new SL. There was a waiting list of a year and a half. One lady went to the back to ask somebody, but she could not find the brochure I was looking for.
I then saw the main Manager of the branch. He asked me why I needed this particular catalogue. I just smiled, oh, just to have the really well designed piece that was made to help sell an expensive car. He smiled. He said something of a “private stack”, went to the back of the dealership and came back with this shiny big brochure of the new Mercedes SL.
I felt like the little boy in Jastrzebie-Zdrój when he gave it to me. So strange. I still like these car catalogues. (I actually also collect stamps.) I guess not much has changed. I wonder where Zbyszek Waskiewicz hangs out these days.
Looks like this happens every time. The days go by and great things happen. I really want to write about them here, but then the event is so good that I do not feel that I could be able to write about it just now, just yet, or properly, or just give the most complete information, so what I end up writing is nothing, which is so much worse than anything. Writing nothing does not even allow pictures to form, later, later, days later, or further, further, across oceans. The memories eventually completely fade away, and some pictures never develop. So sad. it is like spending a day without drawing. Or taking pictures.
Whenever one of the days in the blog just starts looking like yesterday, tiny posts as excuses for what really might have happened, then just remind me to just go ahead, just write about the real life, the real things. Not just the web travelogue. I will try to get my courage together and post more interesting content today. Things that happen here, as I move around the city, not as I click on links and just observe. Hmm... The New York Times just hit the door step. Let me take a look. I will be back.
A thin layer of clouds just moved in from the south. Looks like this will be one of the more beautiful days.
It is late, it was a busy day. While I am asleep, please enjoyDROPPOD. I am usually not too crazy about sites that use plenty of bandwidth just to move around their interface, (witoldriedel.com is as simple as possible, isn’t it?), but sometimes these interfaces are fun. Droppod seems nice. I will look at it again in the morning. Please comment. Good night.
It is easy to forget that the great master of hand drawn icons, Igarashi Susumu aka Mozco, is a planner for law-related publications. So he is not officially an “artist” or a “designer”. His work is quite stunning though. Every single time.
Some Sites only seems to exist in German. It does make sense when the site is directly related to a physical space that is the mother of all art book stores. Buchhandlung Walther Koenig in Cologne (Köln). On our last visit to Germany it was worth traveling several hundred Kilometers out of the way just to visit this incredible space. You can see one of the walls of this unique international art book store on the homepage of its barebones site. Yes, three floors of high quality, hand picked books. And that is just the new stuff. Above all this there is an antiquarian floor, with very rare and sought after books. If in Cologne, don’t miss this great place. You can order online, of course, but that is a completely different experience.
It might be one of those nicer discoveries you can make today. Johannes Hüppi has a new website. You can take a glimpse at some of his paintings of lovers, motorcyclists and waitresses. I think he is preparing an exhibition in New York, I am not quite certain though. I know that there is a new series of painting of “Women and their computers”, which might be what he is going to show here. But I just do not know enough to tell for sure. The site is in German, but it is pretty easy to figure out.
One of the websites I like returning to from time to time is the other AOL. It is AfricaOnline.com. AOL is a portal to many quite fascinating sites from Algeria to Zimbabwe. I probably like the site because it covers news that somehow do not make it to the media here in the US, even though they should.
John Pompa is back in New York. And we are glad to have him back. John spent some time in Berlin polishing up his German at the Goethe Institute Berlin.
John and I met 1998 while working for Organic. John lead the CDNOW marketing solutions team very successfully (for several years). If you ever felt this urge to buy something from CDNOW while surfing the web, chances very, very high are John gave you this feeling (even though he eventually stopped working on the CDNOW account, his design ideas still have a very strong influence on the brand). He is one of the most intelligent art directors out there, and I am a full supporter of his inspiring style with creative teams. I am really happy that he is back in town.
John also takes quite stunning photographs, and he shoots them with a Leica Minilux.
What I did not know was that the New Yorker has actually the Lawrence Weschler article about the David Hockney “discovered” controversy about the use of camera lucidas by some of the old masters. It was until recently impossible to unearth this article and some sites were flooded by requests just because they talked in some way about camera lucidas. Some of the readers might remember the camera lucida lilies I had posted here recently. There will be more camera lucida drawings on this site, of course. In the mean time read the article. Many of us like the work of Lawrence Weschler very much (and David Hockney’s too, of course.) His Boggs : A Comedy of Values, is one of my favorite books. (You know Boggs, he is the artist who makes drawings that look like money, just better, and uses these to buy things. The transactions are part of the art. And all of it is “illegal”. Mother’s day is coming up, bet yourself this fantastic book.)
I also like what Weschler did with McSweeney's Issue 6, the art issue of the magazine that is art itself. I am getting a bit confusing again, am I not?
We just had the best dinner in months. I will need to write all about it. A great restaurant, which you might really enjoy. Unless you are a tourist, of course, then stay away from there. It is a horrible, horrible place... More in a few minutes/hours/days. ; )
Supposedly I am a Metafilter.
A reliable source of constantly updated cool and ridiculous links.
Keep 'em coming.
Take the What Blogging Archetype Are You test at GAZM.org
According to Justin’s Heavily commented stuff the posts on WitoldRiedel.com/MT receive and average 0.538461538461538 comments. “We need to make that pie higher”, feel free to comment. (And a big thanks to all of you who are courageous enough to post any kind of commentary.)
Is it possible that the president just flew by my window?...
First there were two large military helicopters over the hudson river. One after the other flying below the 8th floor level, and then a sly smaller helicopter with a white top followed them after about 30 Seconds.
Chris recently reported about some eye opening martial arts experiences that remind us that there are more powers around us than we might be able to directly and easily understand. Good thing.
Chris’ description is definitely worth the click and a read.
I also like his angry description of his commute. Subways can get packed during rush hour... Maybe there should be a post just about that... Let me see...
The Coffee conversation got a bit out of control. I am not really a very serious coffee drinker, to be quite honest, and this makes it even funnier, at least for me. I like green tea, sen-cha, not too hot. I used to drink cold Coke for Breakfast , until some inner voice told me that this might be one of the bad ideas for my health.
So now the Coffee. I do not own a coffee machine. Not even one of those Italian Stove Top Espresso Brewers. I have a Melitta-Filter holder, but only because it is one of the old original ceramic ones which I would never throw out. I used to have a coffee maker in Germany, but I would experiment with the device quite a bit and mainly use it for those cheap noodle soups.
Two sites in Germany linked to this blog because of the coffee article and both state that I offer a “lengthy description of how to get a good coffee in New York”. Both sites are quite excellent, you should give them a click.
elementarteilchen and Der Schockwellenreiter. Der Schockwellenreiter (“The Shockwave rider”) is a Kantel-Chaos-Team production. Jörg Kantel is the head of the Technology department at the Max Planck Institute for the History of Science. Please read (out loud) the profile of the institute (It is in English). It is a *Gem* of a definition. Schockwellenreiter has nothing to do with the institute, except that it is run by this really smart Jörg Kantel, who happens to have a great sense of humor too...
How did I get from Coffee to here?...
Let me publish this post, so I can start a new attempt to write something interesting. (Or do I actually *need* coffee in the morning?... Should I go and get my and sweet, right now?...)
If you would like to start your May on a bright yet educated note, head straight to Eeksy-Peeksy. His blog might be one of the most poetic out there, and today his observations from Poland focus on Snails and Great Tits (Kohlmeise in German and Sikorka in Polish.) Eeksy-Peeksy is currently in Poland.