I don't think it's any big secret that I enjoy talking about myself. If there's any doubt, read below—read it all, really take it in—and then click through the archives of narcissism, organized into handy weekly sections in the links column at the right of your screen.
Well, believe it or not, I actually run out of opinions and riveting self-analysis occasionally—so it was with great pleasure that I received some pointed questions to answer from Christine Wong—designer, illustrator, renegade crafter extraordinaire, and the editorial force behind the excellent blog Wonting—as part of her "Five Whats" interview series. Click here to learn what I had for breakfast and other amazing things about me.
P.S. – She posted some images of pages from my black books, and here are a few more. Since I moved to New York I've been taping stuff into these big sketch books from Pearl Paint, as a way to collect design inspiration and ideas in one place. There are ten books so far—I'll start posting some images from them every week as the circus of self-focus continues.
Emily and I have both been working a lot and/or had family in town, and haven't had a chance lately to get out and walk around the city together—so it was really nice to kick off the weekend with a leisurely brunch at Jones (always uncrowded in the summer) and some quick art and design appreciation for as long as we could handle cutting the 100ยบ concrete.
On the way from the subway to Jones we stopped by Posteritati, one of the best purveyors of vintage movie posters in the city. They have a searchable online database. Go nuts here.
Next on the agenda was a trip to the venerable Madame Paulette, the best cleaner and tailor in the city, at least if you take the Met's word for it (Paulette handles all that stuff for the Costume Institute).
The cost is a little prohibitive for day-to-day stuff, but if you ever need some serious cleaning or tailoring, that's the spot. You know when a vinyl-covered bench in a bar gets torn, and they fix it with electrical tape, but then the tape gets gross and they remove it—and then there's that sticky black stuff on the vinyl? Madame Paulette had to be called into action because Emily got that on a cream-colored skirt Thursday night.
After that we slouched toward MoMA for the pre-fab preview. It was so hot out, I couldn't believe it. On the way we checked out this installation of big painted bronze figures (including Hello, Kitty) by Tom Sachs, in the courtyard of Lever House. They all have fountains coming out of their eyes.
Here's a photo by Genevieve Hanson of Sachs sitting on one of his works in progress, from a recent article in The New York Times.
Lever House is a really beautiful building, I want to spend some more time there. More about that later.
Then it was on to MoMA for the new show, Home Delivery: Fabricating the Modern Dwelling. Definitely check out the website, there's a ton of information, video, and more pictures there.
The exhibition is in two parts, with renderings, models, and material studies on the sixth floor, and actual pre-fab houses set up in the empty lot between 53rd and 54th streets. To me it seemed like there were some notable exclusions, but in terms of being a cross-section of the most cutting-edge/avant-garde developments in the history and future of pre-fab, it was a great show.
This little metal house was pretty amazing. I can't see spending much time inside it, but the amount of functionality they fit into a tiny space is crazy. There's a bed, a table that seats four and doubles as a desk, a kitchen, and a bathroom—and a little deck with room enough for a few chairs. The whole thing is solar powered.
I liked this one the most. The main thing that interests me about pre-fab houses is the idea of getting the most usability/livability out of the least amount of space possible. There are of course many other interesting things about pre-fabrication, but that's just what I'm into—I guess it appeals to the organizational freak in me. This house is aesthetically attractive, highly functional, and relatively small—but not so small that it would feel cramped. In the picture below you can see there's a stairway leading up to a roof deck. It would be pretty sweet to have a place like this in the San Juans or the North Cascades.
One last point though. Obviously the focus of a show at the MoMA should not be How to Make Pre-Fab Attractive to Mainstream America, and that's not even necessarily the focus of architects working on these types of houses. Regardless, relating the work to my own potential needs, I came away with a feeling that overall there's still a lot to be done toward making pre-fab houses relaxing and comfortable as real homes. Any casual reader of this run-on sentence of a blog knows I am a huge proponent of minimal, modern design—but at what point do you feel like you're living in an office? Fairly subtle moves with color and material would go a long way toward finding a balance between design and real human experience.
Seriously though, I just made all that stuff up, I don't really know what I'm talking about.
The show is up through October 20th. Go check it out and tell me what you think.
After MoMA, we went home, cranked the air conditioner and watched Superbad on Starz in a prone position. Then we drank some micheladas and BBQ'd in the backyard. There were tons of fireflies and our burgers and wieners were delicious, The End.
. This show at Yossi Milo has been bloggedabout quite a bit already, but I'm really psyched about it, so here it is. Photographer Asako Narahashi takes pictures with her camera close to the water or half-submerged, and what results—aside from beautiful images with really amazing colors—is that unique combination of relaxation and fright that comes with swimming in open water.
I am a terrible swimmer, always have been, but that hasn't stopped me from spending as much time as possible on or near the water. I used to guide kayak trips in the San Juan Islands and there is nothing more calming than gliding silently through the waves. I'm looking forward to doing some more of that soon.
Asako Narahashi's Half Awake and Half Asleep In the Water is up through August 22nd at Yossi Milo Gallery (525 West 25th Street, NYC). See more of her work here.
... Bonus. Chris Watson, formerly of Cabaret Voltaire, now a specialist in recording wildlife and nautre, contributed this field recording of water to the Visionaire Sound issue. Telegraph Cove is at the North end of Vancouver Island, British Columbia.
I'm looking forward to reading this book. This coming Sunday's New York Times Magazine will preview it, and David Carr's website has some interesting video interviews with the people who figure into his story.
Last Saturday we went up to Harriman State Park, the second largest state park in New York, named for the politician, businessman, horse racer, and rich dude of yore Averell Harriman. There are 31 lakes in Harriman State Park.
It's only 30 miles North of the city but parts of it may as well be 300 miles away.
During the Revolutionary War, the Americans put a bunch of chains across the Hudson to stop British boats from coming up the river. It didn't work very well—the British captured the two forts you can sort of see in this picture, and terrorized the Hudson valley with their guns and funny talk and pretty red jackets.
Evidence of beavers.
Evidence of jerks.
"When I was a kid...." No, but seriously, when I was a kid, it was not cool to litter. Kids would actually tell other kids not to do it. I remember this one dude actually caught kind of a severe beat down on the playground for throwing his corndog stick on the ground—and it was made of wood. This manner of cleanliness and stewardship of the land (or...playground) was clearly not observed by many in the Northeast, as it often seems the city and the countryside around it are like a gigantic spread-out landfill. I once saw a family in Park Slope—a mom, a dad, and two boys—walking along the sidewalk, all drinking Big Gulps. When they got near their car, the dad said "Everyone get rid of your drinks, no drinks in the car." All four people in this dirty dirty family threw their Big Gulps on the ground, got in the car, and left. That is gross and it's just bad manners.
The New York Times has an article today on the North Cascades Highway, and videos to go with it on their website. William Yardley and photographer Stuart Issett took a trip across SR20, comparing and contrasting their experience with the North Cascades described in this Works Progress Administration guide book from the 1930s:
The WPA's Federal Writers' Project sent photographers and writers (including people such as Eudora Welty, Zora Neale Hurston, and Saul Bellow) around the country to experience and describe the states, and published books on each. Inspired by that, the Times is doing its own roadtrip series this summer. Wyoming is next.
On Friday afternoon my brother and my dad and I took the LIRR deep into Queens for a day at Belmont, with refreshments and 6-foot subs courtesy of the FDNY Engine 3, Ladder 12.
I came close a few times but in the end I didn't win anything. After playing it safe for the first two races and coming away with nothing, I decided to go for the longest of the long shots the rest of the time, just because, why not. That didn't pay off either. No matter, it was fun as heck.
The guys from my brother's firehouse brought these huge coolers full of beer and staked a place out in the backyard, where the recreational race fans all hang out between races.
The people-watching is amazing. This group of fans was particularly fun to talk to—they were having a grand old time hanging out in the yard and speculating on the ponies.
The super hardcore bettors often stay inside, studying their racing forms like their lives depend on it. They don't even watch the races half the time. You can bet as little as a dime so things get a little dire.
This was the most interesting race. One of the horses scratched before the race, because as he was walking onto the track he went nuts, bucked his rider and took off. If you click to enlarge, you can see that another horse lost its jockey on the other side of the track, and finished second.
The facilities are super old school—no fancy remodeling needed, thank you.
There are posters of all the great horses and trainers lining the walls.
I liked watching the people who work there. I bet these three groundskeepers have an interesting time, walking around filling divots and shooting the shit. I'm sure it doesn't pay well or anything but there are worse jobs out there, for sure.
When we left, we climbed up on the roof of the train station and walked around.
Even having done it many times, riding the train is always exciting to me. Improving and expanding the railways should be a top priority right now, but is unfortunately, and predictably, running into all kinds of complications.
We had our own complications leaving the track, when we realized we were about three hours early for the next train—so we bussed it to the very end of the F line in Jamaica, and rode the subway all the way back.
Being that far out in any of the boroughs makes you realize how gigantic New York City is. It still blows me away—the size and the density.
Pacific Standard issue no.1 covers: top, Abby Brothers by Michael Donovan; bottom, Alexis Schuster by Charlie Schuck. Select image above for more information.
