Azeda Booth Big Fists mp3
I also just picked up Broken Social Scene Presents Brendan Canning Something for All of Us..., the best record of the bunch, but not the best album cover. Here's a video instead:
Azeda Booth Big Fists mp3
I also just picked up Broken Social Scene Presents Brendan Canning Something for All of Us..., the best record of the bunch, but not the best album cover. Here's a video instead:
2. Generation Kill is also a well-designed package—from the seemingly endless, haunting radio chatter that hangs over the end credits, to the logo, which makes uniquely smart use of this distressed typeface, evoking destruction, death metal, targeting, sand, maybe even a bit of religious/crusade overtone—and if you really read into it, does the middle cross look a little like an iconic image from Abu Ghraib? I don't know, that might be a little overreaching, who knows.
Premier Issues is a website dedicated to showing the first issues of a wide range of magazines. There's a lot missing but it's still an interesting survey and worth a quick look. It's also a reminder of how many magazines start out, get a ton of attention, and then disappear. List was an amazing idea, for example—the entire magazine was made up of lists, and images to go with them. It was beautifully designed and I was excited about it ... and unless I'm mistaken there was only one issue ever. Here are some spreads:
Recycled inspiration
Bulletin Boards
Last Suppers on Death Row
Hair Wars
This is SE Racing's OM Flyer model. The OM stands for "Old Man," which was the nickname of Scot Breithaupt, the founder of SE Racing way back in the day. I'd rather have an old one, but if I could get it in black and chrome I would immediately sell my mountain bike and get the re-issue. It looks small but it's a 26" cruiser, which I need because my original Torker 2 is way too small.
This next installment in my NW/NY interview series is with renaissance woman Sarah Honda. I first met Sarah in Seattle in the early '90s, when she was an editor at The Flavor magazine, and I started working there. Sarah and I spent many late nights in the office, editing and organizing to the sounds of Mobb Deep and Raekwon. Her roommate at the University of Washington was this girl named Emily. Sarah introduced Emily and me at RKCNDY one night, and to make a long story short, we ended up getting married a couple years later.
Sarah moved to New York and worked at the legendary Payday Records before taking a job at Empire Management, handling the day to day careers of DJ Premier and Gang Starr, among others. We used to hang out and go to brunch a lot, and walk around the city—actually, she walks so fast, it's more like trotting around the city. It was really fun and a good way to see the sights. The way I see it, Sarah has been an ever-present force during two of the goldenest of golden eras of my life.
Three years ago, Sarah moved back to her hometown of Honolulu and started a fashion magazine called Smart. (They have a blog now too...you can tell which posts are Sarah's because they have titles like "Protect Ya Neck-lace.") Sarah also produces the film festival there, has a radio show, promotes a bunch of club nights, and lives the fast life in fast cars.
This week she was in New York for her annual pilgrimage and I forced her to sit down and answer my questions.
Emily and Sarah at Wildwood Barbecue
Emily and Sarah blazing up Diamond Head past slow Hawaiians last summer
Acai bowls
Alexandre Herchcovitch
Mexican loteria cards
Bliss Lau body jewelry
You know what? I do wear my Bone t-shirt. Don’t doubt me kid!
I didn't plan on writing about the New Yorker cover that won't go away, but I came across some analysis from Pentagram's Paula Scher, guest-blogging at Design Observer, and thought I would link to it. Here's an excerpt, bold parts mine:The problem with the Obama joke is not that it’s dangerous and tasteless. The problem is that it isn’t dangerous or tasteless enough. There’s nothing wrong with a joke, it’s how its executed. It’s just not that shocking, and it isn’t funny. It’s simply bad art direction. The cover is an illustration when it should have been a photograph. It’s a cartoonish illustration at that, not even a realistic painting. It's not what you said, it’s how you said it.To be effective, this kind of political outrageousness has to appear to be absolutely real. You have to look at it and think, "Oh my God, I can’t believe it! Did they actually do that?" It has to be so tasteless that it becomes good. Lois achieved that with his cover for Esquire of Lieutenant Calley, then accused of leading the Mai Lai massacre in Vietnam, posing with a bunch of smiling Vietnamese children—an actual real photograph. In this portrait, Calley was a villain or an innocent, depending on your point of view. When it appeared on the newsstands, the cover was so shocking, so appalling, so unbelievable in its mere existence, you didn’t stop to think about whether or not it was offensive or tasteless. Other Lois covers such as his cover of Muhammad Ali or President Nixon work similarly.













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 100º 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.