Archive for the ‘Digital Manipulation’ Category
The Schism Series I- Digital Manipulation. October 6, 2013.
Posted in Architecture, art, Calabria Diaries, Digital Collage, Digital Manipulation, Photography, Poetry, Writing, tagged night photography, night sky, stars over the mediterrenean on September 4, 2013 | 2 Comments »
Posted in art, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, Ernest Hemingway, Poetry, Writing, tagged digital manipulation, Drawing, Hemingway, honesty, ink on paper, mea culpa, photoshop, portrait, sketch, tradigital drawing, writing on September 2, 2013 | 4 Comments »
Sometimes it takes finding a portrait you do not remember drawing….a sketch you do not immediately recognize as your own- yet find intriguing and technically correct, to remind you you are an artist, you can do these things.
You, in fact, do these things- it is your work, a beloved toil- your ink on paper is like rubber on the road for others.
Days with no art are never complete, nor true – or honest, as Papa Hemingway would say.
I can’t help but thinking one should not need such reminders….
Posted in Architectural Photography, Architecture, art, Collage, Design, Digital Collage, Digital Manipulation, Experiments, F R A G M E N T S, Featured Architects, History of Architecture, Photography, Quotes, Research, School Work, Spontaneous Constructs, Theory and Criticism, Writing, tagged Architecture, collage, deconstructionist, dream, jim kazanjian, Photography, Rumi on February 4, 2013 | 1 Comment »
You have to keep breaking your heart
until it opens.
Without the use of a camera Portland-based artist Jim Kazanjian sifts through a library of some 25,000 images from which he carefully selects the perfect elements to digitally assemble mysterious buildings born from the mind of an architect gone mad. While the architectural and organic pieces seem wildly random and out of place, Kazanjian brings just enough cohesion to each structure to suggest a fictional purpose or story that begs to be told.
Reblogged from here.
Posted in Architectural Photography, art, Art Gallery, Art Show, Digital Manipulation, Music, NaBloPoMo, Photography, Poetry, Writing, tagged digital manipulation, Gillian Welch, Jenna Ann MacGillis, performance art, Photography, Poetry, san diego space for art, the desperate characters of Mercer county, the way it will be, throw me a rope on November 10, 2012 | 3 Comments »
The set above was designed by Jenna Ann Mac Gillis for the performance
‘The Desperate Characters of Mercer County’ which took place at San Diego Space for Art on November 10, 2012. Read all the lurid details of this Americana story here.
I can feel poetry
rise out of silence
like an undeniable tide,
a Polaroid floats to the surface.
The words appear
Oh honey, just take out your lighter,
they are written in lemon juice
Loving you was like
carrying a cardboard suitcase
in the rain
In the absence of
I collect mugs by my bedside
Ride in empty buses
-straw bale leggings-
and always get to the theather
after the movie ended
I walk among the Saturday night revelers huddled around a screen
-the miniskirts march in lockstep
It’s date night in San Diego
a cold one too
knights in shirt sleeves have donated their coats
and presents are opened inside cars.
I steal glances and compose poems
that don’t help anyone tonight.
The lines start to sound
like a Gillian Welch song.
If you have a mind like a diamond,
expect it to cut.
I was in love with the dream of you
And now I am shackled to a ghost.
Some kinds of pain never die;
they can only ease a little,
and not every day.
Posted in art, Cures for the Nothing, Digital Manipulation, Experiments, F R A G M E N T S, Painting, Thinking with my hands, tagged digital drawings, digital painting apps, experiments, palette, tablet paintings on November 8, 2012 | Leave a Comment »
Posted in Architecture, Competitions and Collaborations, Design, digital collage, photography, writing, architecture, Digital Manipulation, Graphic Design, Research, San Diego, tagged #occupyarchitecture, logo, occupy architects, occupy movement, occupy san diego, occupy wall street on February 21, 2012 | Leave a Comment »
Here’s to the three fearless women who burned the midnight oil mad-drawing, brainstorming, smoking…and listening to a French radio station.
Here’s to completing a full series of state-of-the-art presentation drawings in one night.
Here’s to our kick-ass boards and efficient subversiveness.
Here’s to your question, La Gitane : “How does it feel to be talented?”
Continued catalysts for moments of urbanity (if the city does not give you benches…)
Posted in Architecture, art, Art Gallery, Art Show, Artuesdays, Competitions and Collaborations, Digital Manipulation, Experiments, History of Architecture, Photography, Poetry, Writing, tagged fotografia., Inverno, Photography, Venezia., venice, winter on January 3, 2012 | 3 Comments »
In the winter, Venice is like an abandoned theatre. The play is finished, but the echoes remain.
To build a city where it is impossible to build a city is madness in itself, but to build there one of the most elegant and grandest of cities is the madness of genius.
There is something so different in Venice from any other place in the world, that you leave at once all accustomed habits and everyday sights to enter an enchanted garden.
It is the city of mirrors, the city of mirages, at once solid and liquid, at once air and stone.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
A palace and a prison on each hand.
A train-ride takes you from Milano to Venice..whose real name is Venezia, the Most Serene city and splendid, golden Republic. On the train you think about Byron, his letters written on trains, his Venetian Countess.
Through frozen fields and dormant earth, through fog and long-gone rice paddies , you deboard to the Sublime.
At dusk the lights from bars and cafes shimmer on the dark waters, and you start thinking in cliches, such as temporarily inhabiting an Impressionist painting.
Yet the feeling is fresh and true: each visit to this surrealists’ dream had its poignant moment of suspension of disbelief.
Each time the city grabs you and takes you away with her.
Here’s a taste of today’s acts of flanerie in La Serenissima.
Posted in art, Collage, Design, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, Poetry, Writing, tagged collage, delayed bag, Drawing, essay, madrid, manana llovera, markable folding umbrella, michele foyer, muji, my orange, orange, stolen umbrella, umbrella, Watercolor on November 16, 2011 | 2 Comments »
I was recently reunited with luggage lost 45 days ago.
Three items were missing: a bottle of Cinema Eau De Parfum by Yves Saint Laurent, a beloved collaged orange umbrella bought in Barcelona and a pair of Sketchers shoes. Go figure.
Immediately i set out to substitute my lost umbrella. As said in one Law and Order episode (I paraphrase): “Hardheaded Calabrese: the people there are very stubborn… once something is taken away from them, they don’t rest until …they get it back.”
My mind went back to the orange umbrella I bought for my mom in Milano last Christmas (probably with her money;)), from one of my favorite stores: Muji.
In my quest, I ran into this glorious essay on a particular shade of orange.
I have a box of orange objects in my house that I have been meaning to combine into a series.
Tomorrow seems like a good day for it, and orange thoughts are perfect for winter-short days and too much yin.
Before you read, keep this in mind:
Fire in Arabic is ‘Nar’.
by Michele Foyer
If we lived during the time of the Dutch West Indies Company, I would tell you that the color that so captured me was the child of paprika and chocolate. The world no longer swoons over spice willing to risk a sail beyond the end of the known. And yes, sadly rape and pillage in its desperate greed. I had only to pass the window of the Muji store in Manhattan’s Chelsea to discover this color in an umbrella.
What is it that grabbed me? Is it a vibration for which the color is only a foil? Or is it something about the color itself lodged between memory and desire? This redder orange infused with luxurious chocolate yielded a strangely jazzier yet muter tone than orange. But if we are mapping out its terrain inevitably the orange relation comes up.
My “Muji Orange” is a distant relative of the neon orange of warning, as well as a “tangerine streamlined baby” of sixties psychedelic abandon. Its crazy older paternal cousin might be the Tang of astronauts or maybe the impossible orange of orange Crush soda, or possibly even Blake’s Tyger burning bright, but its doting grandmother, is definitely — yes, most definitely — a bittersweet French marmalade.
There is some mystery to orange. Orange is the only color in the seven-color spectrum besides violet that originates as a noun, naming a particular thing. It refers to the berry fruit of the orange tree, something very concrete and specific and not as abstract as the other colors. Was the experience of the orange fruit so strong that it came to stand for the orange experience?
The Old English Dictionary (OED) states that in Medieval Latin “the forms ‘arangia’, ‘arantia’ (Du Cange) whence ‘aurantia’ have “popular association with ‘aurum’ gold from the colour.” Perhaps, the OED postulates, there is an etymological relationship between the Old French “orenge” for “arauge” after “or” gold. The OED traces the “loss of the initial ‘n‘ in French, English and Italian” as “ascribed to its absorption into the indefinite article” resulting in “narange” absorbing “une” and “narancia” absorbing ”una.”
Also from the OED we understand that the “native country of orange appears to have been the northern frontier of India, where wild oranges are still found and the name may have originated there.” In Late Sankrit the word for orange is “naranga;” in Hindi it is “narangi” (OED, p. 2001)
Is “orange” related to the color of the fruit and/or to gold and the word “ore” (OED, p. 2001)? Are both these not only things, but also perhaps experiences of light? More questions arise as we consider other correspondences that I call “rhymes and ricochets.”
In Persian the world for pomegranate is “nar” (OED, p.2001) which echoes the nar of narange. Is this coincidence or relationship? The OED states it is not certain. Was the “nar” / pomegranate the fateful fruit of the tree in the Garden of Eden myth? It is possible because the pomegranate rather than the apple was the indigenous fruit. If the pomegranate was the tree of knowledge, what was the knowledge that this golden ball embodied? Might it have reflected a relationship of light to dark?
Is there anything other than coincidence to the resonance of the pomegranate which also figures in the myth of Persephone who spends half her days in a descent into Hades when the earth experiences the dark of winter and the other half above ground when the earth experiences the light of spring – alternations or gradients of light and dark?
In one narrative color is dependent upon history and culture. The OED by definition is a history of the English language, tracing the history and values of the western world with its migrations and roots to the East. Today we think oranges are synonymous with the warm climates of Florida and California. We often believe they are indigenous to North America. However, they were planted by conquistador sailors who needed to create supplies of vitamin C to take with them to guard against scurvy on their long sea journeys.
What is orange in cultures outside of the European? In other cultures closed off to our own for so long by the migration and exchange of trade, say the Japanese or Chinese, what is the etymology of the word orange? In Cantonese Chinese (but not in Mandarin), the word for orange is related by sound to the word for gold. At New Year’s the Mandarin orange embodies good wishes for prosperity. Are “gold” and “orange” a conflation of all these color experiences of light?
What about other earlier societies? I wonder whether orange might “rhyme” with “fire.” Fire had the life-giving power that made a large difference to a culture. If gold wasn’t the commodity of value, it might make sense for the word for this experience to be “fire.” Might gold be in part only an imitation of the light of fire?
These richoceting ruminations about gold and fire are vital, because it is precisely the light of gold or fire that starts to go missing in “my” Muji Orange. It is that chocolate brown in addition to the red of the orange that makes the color “step back” toward the shade. Muji Orange recedes from the saturation and almost clear brilliance of an ordinary orange that lags just behind the brilliance of yellow—whether the origin is the light of sun, gold or fire.
Muji is a Japanese company and that perhaps contributes and infuses a measure of its aesthetic into that of the west. The store’s name is related to “mujo” which evokes “transience” in Japanese. I once heard about Japanese “killed colors.” These colors had a little bit of death in them, fading from their original brilliance and glory. I couldn’t find reference to them again but only to the rikuyu colors made from graying. In Muji Orange the quality of orange steps away from the brilliance of the sunny orange into the shade, holding a note of something that is darker. It is not a sinister dark to be avoided but one to be savored like a fine chocolate.
Is my “Muji Orange” so beautiful to me because it captures the life of light and its brilliance — and the life of dark and its recession? To me “Muji Orange” is a kumquat color par excellence. First like the sweet rind of the kumquat there is a “taste” of brilliance and then immediately, almost simultaneously, just as the fruit yields a sour taste, my Muji orange bursts with another very different moody, darker earthy “taste.” Does Muji Orange with its paprika jazzy zest want to dance the tarantula? Is it death or lack of light that gives my Muji color its kick?
I have questioned whether it was the vibration of the color that pulled me into the Chelsea store — the umbrella an extraneous element. But I wonder if the precise color of orange might also be a “rhyme” with the function of “umbrella”? Are the form and the vibration related in the poetry of memory?
Recently I recalled an earlier encounter with umbrellas. When I studied in Madrid in my 20s, I would often take the subway to go downtown to the Turner bookshop. I’d climb the stairs of the appropriately named Sol subway stop that spilled out onto Jose Antonio, emerging more often than not into a scorching sun.
On my way to the bookshop I would pass outside the window of a store that made confectionaries of violets sold in white and purple miniature hatboxes. But my favorite was the neighboring shop entirely devoted to umbrellas with a placard handwritten in a swirly old-fashioned cursive script in the window that read “Manana llovera.” Both its whimsy and its sales-minded craft were not lost in the English translation — “tomorrow it will rain.”
Last December, many years after my sunny Spanish sojourn, when to me it is now irrefutable that night and day, death and life are folded into one another and that Persephone must braid both dark and light — the Muji Orange color caught my eye. Manana llovera. Tomorrow it will rain. Dear Reader, I bought the umbrella.
Bibliographic Note The Compact Edition of the Oxford English Dictionary, Volume I, AO, (Oxford University Press, United States, 1982).
Copyright Michele Foyer. Web: http://michelefoyer.com/news.html
Posted in architecture, art,poetry,writing, Cures for the Nothing, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, Ink, Poetry, Quotes, Thinking with my hands, tagged art, bell jar, Drawing, Murmurations, Poetry, Quote, starlings, Sylvia Plath, thinking with one's hands, visual poetry on November 9, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
“If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time,
then I’m neurotic as hell.
I’ll be flying back and forth between one mutually exclusive thing and another
for the rest of my days.”
Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar, Chapter 8
I have to thank my colleague Alan Rosenblum for sharing the concept of thinking with one’s hands and the visual poetry of The Mystery of a Murmuration. His advice is to watch this in silence.
Posted in art, art,poetry,writing, Books, Collage, Cures for the Nothing, digital collage, photography, writing, architecture, Digital Manipulation, Experiments, Poetry, Writing, tagged Digital Collage, frank o' hara, meditation in an emergency, new york, Poetry, poetry foundation, poets.org, the best american poetry on August 18, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
Frank O’Hara 1926–1966
Am I to become profligate as if I were a blonde? Or religious as if I were
Each time my heart is broken it makes me feel more adventurous (and how the
same names keep recurring on that interminable list!), but one of these days
there’ll be nothing left with which to venture forth.
Why should I share you? Why don’t you get rid of someone else for a
I am the least difficult of men. All I want is boundless love.
Even trees understand me! Good heavens, I lie under them, too, don’t I? I’m
just like a pile of leaves.
However, I have never clogged myself with the praises of pastoral life, nor
with nostalgia for an innocent past of perverted acts in pastures. No. One need
never leave the confines of New York to get all the greenery one wishes—I can’t
even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there’s a subway handy, or a record
store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It is
more important to affirm the least sincere; the clouds get enough attention as
it is and even they continue to pass. Do they know what they’re missing? Uh
My eyes are vague blue, like the sky, and change all the time; they are
indiscriminate but fleeting, entirely specific and disloyal, so that no one
trusts me. I am always looking away. Or again at something after it has given me
up. It makes me restless and that makes me unhappy, but I cannot keep them
still. If only i had grey, green, black, brown, yellow eyes; I would stay at
home and do something. It’s not that I’m curious. On the contrary, I am bored
but it’s my duty to be attentive, I am needed by things as the sky must be above
the earth. And lately, so great has their anxiety become, I can spare
myself little sleep.
Now there is only one man I like to kiss when he is unshaven.
Heterosexuality! you are inexorably approaching. (How best discourage her?)
St. Serapion, I wrap myself in the robes of your whiteness which is like
midnight in Dostoevsky. How I am to become a legend, my dear? I’ve tried love,
but that hides you in the bosom of another and I am always springing forth from
it like the lotus—the ecstasy of always bursting forth! (but one must not be
distracted by it!) or like a hyacinth, “to keep the filth of life away,” yes,
there, even in the heart, where the filth is pumped in and slanders and pollutes
and determines. I will my will, though I may become famous for a mysterious
vacancy in that department, that greenhouse.
Destroy yourself, if you don’t know!
It is easy to be beautiful; it is difficult to appear so. I admire you,
beloved, for the trap you’ve set. It’s like a final chapter no one reads because
the plot is over.
“Fanny Brown is run away—scampered off with a Cornet of Horse; I do love that
little Minx, & hope She may be happy, tho’ She has vexed me by this Exploit
a little too.—Poor silly Cecchina! or F:B: as we used to call her.—I wish She
had a good Whipping and 10,000 pounds.”—Mrs. Thrale.
I’ve got to get out of here. I choose a piece of shawl and my dirtiest
suntans. I’ll be back, I’ll re-emerge, defeated, from the valley; you don’t want
me to go where you go, so I go where you don’t want me to. It’s only afternoon,
there’s a lot ahead. There won’t be any mail downstairs. Turning, I spit in the
lock and the knob turns.
Posted in Architecture, architecture, art, art,poetry,writing, Design, digital collage, photography, writing, architecture, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, Experiments, Jewelry, Spontaneous Constructs, tagged 100%polypropylene, beads, collages, construct, dancing dresses, fabric map, hands. collaborative work, jewelry design, kisses, la gitane, maps, model, mylar, new york, patchwork, Watercolor, yupo watercolor paper on June 24, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
The Fabric City is finally finished! Yay! Back to collages and sketches now.
Tomorrow the ‘city’ will be cut and applied to a presently plain backpack and signed.
I also want to share this impromptu jewelry design, my second, kindly modeled!
Finally, work inspired by New York in form of a guest post:
Posted in Architecture, architecture, art,poetry,writing, Artuesdays, Book Reviews, Books, Collage, Cures for the Nothing, Digital Collage, digital collage, photography, writing, architecture, Digital Manipulation, Featured Artists, Photography, photography, Writing, tagged Arab cities, Cities of Salt, City of Salt, Digital Collage, escapism, fable, fantasy, favorite books, fiction, Invisible cities, Italo Calvino, Miniature cities, nicholas kahn, orientalism, Photography, photography spread, prose, reverie, richard selesnick, tales on May 24, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
“Here is a splendid volume from the Terry Gillam school of fictional photography… The book comes in a sturdy slipcase and features complex landscapes, painstakingly created, and digitally peopled by actors playing out scenes which conjure up a mystical Middle Eastern civilisation. Enigmatic, but beautiful.”
“This is a beautifully structured text with an imaginative use of words and photography. This wondrous book of tales is a complex work of art that will be read throughout our generation.”
Focus: Fine Art Photography Magazine
“City of Salt… creates and documents alternate realities in miniature, accompanied by narratives inspired by Sufi tales, Italo Calvino and more.”
Michelle Wildgen –Publishers Weekly
Posted in art, art,poetry,writing, Design, Digital Manipulation, Experiments, tagged art, as i walked out one evening, binary code, cat, digital manipulation, female cat, gatta, gattamorta, image, Love, Poetry, time, w.h.auden on May 19, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
|As I Walked Out One Evening|
|by W. H. Auden|
As I walked out one evening, Walking down Bristol Street, The crowds upon the pavement Were fields of harvest wheat. And down by the brimming river I heard a lover sing Under an arch of the railway: 'Love has no ending. 'I'll love you, dear, I'll love you Till China and Africa meet, And the river jumps over the mountain And the salmon sing in the street, 'I'll love you till the ocean Is folded and hung up to dry And the seven stars go squawking Like geese about the sky. 'The years shall run like rabbits, For in my arms I hold The Flower of the Ages, And the first love of the world.' But all the clocks in the city Began to whirr and chime: 'O let not Time deceive you, You cannot conquer Time. 'In the burrows of the Nightmare Where Justice naked is, Time watches from the shadow And coughs when you would kiss. 'In headaches and in worry Vaguely life leaks away, And Time will have his fancy To-morrow or to-day. 'Into many a green valley Drifts the appalling snow; Time breaks the threaded dances And the diver's brilliant bow. 'O plunge your hands in water, Plunge them in up to the wrist; Stare, stare in the basin And wonder what you've missed. 'The glacier knocks in the cupboard, The desert sighs in the bed, And the crack in the tea-cup opens A lane to the land of the dead. 'Where the beggars raffle the banknotes And the Giant is enchanting to Jack, And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer, And Jill goes down on her back. 'O look, look in the mirror, O look in your distress: Life remains a blessing Although you cannot bless. 'O stand, stand at the window As the tears scald and start; You shall love your crooked neighbour With your crooked heart.' It was late, late in the evening, The lovers they were gone; The clocks had ceased their chiming, And the deep river ran on.
Posted in art, art,poetry,writing, Collage, Design, Digital Collage, digital collage, photography, writing, architecture, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, Experiments, F R A G M E N T S, Ink, Poetry, San Diego, Thoughts in the alley, Writing, writing, tagged a story that could be true, agata and the storm, agata e la tempesta, Digital Collage, frogs, poem, Poetry, rain, william stafford on May 17, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
Where can I run?
You fill the world.
The only place to run is within you.
From Agata e la Tempesta| Agata and the Storm
They miss the whisper that runs
any day in your mind,
“Who are you really, wanderer?”—
and the answer you have to give
no matter how dark and cold
the world around you is:
“Maybe I’m a king.”
Posted in art, art,poetry,writing, Collage, Design, Digital Manipulation, Experiments, Graphic Design, tagged 3D, arab town, collage, domestic architecture of the arab region, Drawing, fabric, map, marrakesh, medina, old town, traditional arab town, tunis on April 20, 2011 | 1 Comment »
Posted in art, Digital Collage, digital collage, photography, writing, architecture, Digital Manipulation, Experiments, F R A G M E N T S, Photography, photography, Spontaneous Constructs, Uncategorized, tagged android app, digital manipulation, filter, photo illusion, Photography, red, special effects on March 6, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
Posted in Architecture, art, Books, Cures for the Nothing, Design, Digital Collage, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, Featured Architects, Lectures, Museum WOWs, Photography, Poetry, Quotes, San Diego, school, School Work, sketchbook, sketching, Theory and Criticism, Writing, tagged 2011, AIAS NSAD, Allen Ghaida, Autograph, BIG, bjarke ingels, california, danish architect, Drawing, february "%, Hybrid notes, lecture notes, museum of natural history, newschool, NewSchool Arts Foundation, newschool of architecture and design, notes from the lecture, NSAD, NSAF, Review, san diego, sketches, visual notes, yes is more on February 28, 2011 | 2 Comments »
Bjarke Ingels came to speak to our school Friday night.
The venue was the Museum of Natural History in scenic Balboa Park.
I am still blown away by the lecture and, more importantly, the message.
It was truly (r)evolutionary. The fact that BIG’s insanely brilliant concepts not only get built but a) give back to the community in terms of urban interaction b) are socially and ecologically responsible and c) are giving him fame and making him a household name is galvanizing.
Expanding the collective idea of what is possible through architecture: this is the optimism we need after years of gloom, in face of all the naysayers and ‘pie-in-the-sky’ disablers. Something is blooming in the state of Denmark.
What an event. My friend Alan Rosenblum told me it would be as if ‘Lady Gaga came to San Diego’.
And. It. Was. The students loved it. Three days later, and we are all still giddy.
I could not agree more. Thank you Mr. Ingels.
You intensified the dialogue between students and educators, and showed us how the ‘crazy’ ideas that are developed in studio and propose new typologies for the city are not only possible but timely and welcome. This creates a better learning environment, where pragmatism actually means being part of the solution, not propagating the problem.
I had the same dilemma when working in traditional, corporate offices and found refuge in academia. BIG showed us that there is a third way, the ‘Bigamy’ way. You can have it all. You can be good and successful. You can be extremely famous
and not be arrogant. He spoke of pragmatic idealism, and hedonistic sustainability. He demonstrated how to create building that are fun to experience as inhabitants and city neighbors and yet are sustainable. He showed us the intellectual approach and use of hybridization of traditional typologies to achieve new functions and forms. To wit: the Garbage to Energy plant in the middle of Copenhagen, which will be the city’s tallest structure and will house a ski slope (!) and blow smoke rings each time one ton of CO2 is burned. These are usually ‘crazy’ projects that we see coming from the upper studio division, when we ask the students to ‘dream big’ (pun intended) and question the drab, anti-interactive reality of center cities such as San Diego. The students, deep inside, try to dream but are conditioned to think that projects such as the one we saw in the lecture could never be built due to various factors such as financial interests or politics of control, or even lack of relevance of our role as architects.
We have been liberated from all of this because we can now point to BIG’s projects. Here it was demonstrated that the only limits we have as architects and human beings are those self-imposed, or those we feel ‘reality’ has burdened us with. I know that as faculty we felt validated by BIG’s successes ( does it make sense?). The music and videos, the whole presentation and BIG’s infectious enthusiasm, warmth and positive energy were, in the words of a student ‘AWESOME’. Another student told me he learned a lot about diagrams from the lecture.
The lecture also was a model for engaging presentations. I have been toying with the idea, but now I am committed to use music and pop references in my History of Architecture classes; I ran the idea with few students and they were all for it. I will quote Ingels when he says that we need to ‘cease to consider the building as objects but focus on what they do for the city’ : this informs and generates a new approach to ‘sacred architectural monsters’ and teaching history of architecture (or as I like to think, architectural stories).
A big thank you to Allen Ghaida, the AIAS and all my colleagues at the NewSchool Arts Foundation for making this dream of an event a reality.
I sketched feverishly- and took down all the provocative quotes. Here are my hybrid/computer-augmented notes.
I will add all of the proper building names and location as soon as possible.
click to enlarge
…..and this was my present
Posted in Architecture, art, Artuesdays, Cures for the Nothing, Digital Collage, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, History of Architecture, Paper Goods, Photography, Poetry, sketchbook, sketching, Writing, tagged Bramante, card making, digital manipulation, Drawing, hand book sketchbook, Harry Seidler, horizontal sketchbook, Milano, penholder, recipe for sketching, sketches, sketching, sketching in cold weather, tea, The Grand Tour: Travelling the World with an Architect's Eye, travel sketches on January 18, 2011 | Leave a Comment »
In the monastery adjacent this church, just a few minutes’ stroll from my house, one can find Leonardo Da Vinci’s ’Last Supper’. The apse (widely attributed to Donato Bramante, and dated around 1490) is significant as it signals a crucial transition from the Late Gothic style of the nave to a splendid Northern Italian Renaissance in the apse, the choir and cupola.
MITI’S RECIPE FOR SKETCHING:
Day One: Look. (First Encounter)
Day Two: See. (Visual Analysis;walkaround…resist the urge to take photos. Training your eyes will not only lead to better sketches, better lessons learned from the Architecture itself, it will lead to–if you are so inclined–even better photography in the end. Notice, examine and mentally record -on the exterior- connections, details, rhythms, proportions, materials; on the interior: spaces, rituals, light, sequences, apertures, passages…)
Day Three: Sketch. (even quickly…by now you learned the lessons, you acquainted yourself with the building. You begin to understand.) Use the verb ‘to draw’ as in drawing water from a well, draw information (this last advice comes from Travelling the World with an Architect’s Eye)
Tips for cold-weather sketching: stop when your legs fall asleep. Wear half (I call them ‘homeless-style’) gloves to keep the hands free. Listen to warm music on your ipod. Bring a thermos or mug with hot, organic, unsweetened english breakfast tea.
for impromptu urban sketching, carry your pens with the very handy penholder by Muji (did I mention before that I love Muji?)
Posted in art, art,poetry,writing, Cures for the Nothing, Digital Manipulation, Drawing, Photography, tagged diagram, Drawing, multiplication, open culture, think better, visual math on December 20, 2010 | Leave a Comment »