Nov. 28 2011

slantback:

The airline artist has recruited Dante Rossetti’s 1877 Mary Magdalene, with perhaps an ironic nod to Botticelli’s Venus, as the heroine of our worst-case scenario. Thus the “fallen woman” motif is reimagined in the most urgent terms: this airline Magdalene is a woman who has quite literally fallen. And this is where we find her, floating in limbo, clutching a lily-white life preserver to her breast (instead of a vase, as in the 1877 portrait). Like Rossetti’s romantic Pre-Raphaelite Magdalene, this woman’s lowly state serves only to magnify her elemental beauty. Here she is, Our Lady of the Plane Crash. “I will make you fishers of men,” says the Christ. “We will rescue you in any corner of the globe,” says a Pan Am safety card. The fallen woman will not remain cast away forever—and, if we follow her lead, the artist assures us, neither will we. (via Paris Review – The Unlikely Event, Avi Steinberg)

this.

Apr. 12 2011

One thing TV does is help us deny that we’re lonely. With televised images, we can have the facsimile of a relationship without the work of a real relationship. It’s an anesthesia of “form.” The interesting thing is why we’re so desperate for this anesthetic against loneliness. You don’t have to think very hard to realize that our dread of both relationships and loneliness, both of which are like sub-dreads of our dread of being trapped inside a self (a psychic self, not just a physical self), has to do with angst about death, the recognition that I’m going to die, and die very much alone, and the rest of the world is going to go merrily on without me. I’m not sure I could give you a steeple-fingered theoretical justification, but I strongly suspect a big part of real art fiction’s job is to aggravate this sense of entrapment and loneliness and death in people, to move people to countenance it, since any possible human redemption requires us first to face what’s dreadful, what we want to deny.

David Foster Wallace (via eudaimonist)

never really got into DFW but this is true.

Nov. 11 2010

I don’t use the accident. I deny the accident.

Jackson Pollock

I believe this quote was in reference to his style of painting at the time. The way he splattered the paint on the canvas without having the brush touch would raise a question to the effect of how precise can one be with this style?  How much can the artist take responsibility for?  Pollock won’t use the accident but rather, quite egotistically, deny the accident, accepting complete ownership.  What purpose does this claim serve, if only for the sake of the artist?  To say a dancer moved someone to tears is understandable; but how conscious can the dancer be of the effect that they create.  There comes a point.  The art will always be more than the artist. 

(via tratlee)

little bro turns 21 monday.  taking him to his first nfl game sunday.

Sep. 24 2010

Art without commerce is a hobby.

May. 10 2010

Mar. 28 2010

bobulate:

LA-based artist Mark Bennett is a seasoned television watcher who pays homage to the medium in his work. More than just amateur blueprints, these detailed drawings can be found in the collections of both the Los Angeles County Museum of Art and The Museum of Modern Art. See also: TV Sets: Fantasy Blueprints of Classic TV Homes. [via]

click-through to see the jetsons & wayne manor.  great stuff.

Feb. 21 2010

tratlee:

Andrew showed me this one night.  the timing is pretty insane.  It reminded me how cool the process can be regardless of the outcome.  Each picture was finished only long enough for her to grab more sand.

wow, again.

Feb. 20 2010

homeofthevain:

Alain Resnais, L’Année dernière à Marienbad (poster)

I don’t know if you know: everything comes apart if you find the strand, and even the shadows lie.

wow.

Nov. 08 2009

I believe in science and art, and the promise and potential of design to bring them together to change the world.

In our intellectual institutions, and our society in general, science and art live mostly separate lives- developing separate worldviews, distinct methods, specialist language, and segregated communities of thought and practice.

But the more I work as a designer- a practice that demands the constant negotiation of the boundaries and intersections of these two worlds, where every creative relies on a scientific base- the more deeply committed I am to the foundation of science.

The historic scientific project has built a common language of human knowledge that allows any scientist working anywhere to challenge and revise and add to our shared resource. It was open source before that idea was named. And it is on this human foundation of knowledge that we solve the challenges we face as a global society.

It is science that has opened up the electromagnetic spectrum so that we can explore the universe in all its complexity. It is science that has allowed us the wonders of communication so that you can read my words, and we can connect across borders and cultures and time zones. And that has built the tools to overcome diseases like smallpox and SARS, and soon polio and others. And that has also built the pathway out of the dark night of ignorance, mythology, and superstition, allowing us to replace imaginary stories with hard-won empirical knowledge.

But my commitment to scientific knowledge in no way diminishes my belief in the mystery and power of the arts.

It is art that sings to us and opens our hearts to one another. It is art that gives meaning to things that would otherwise go unnoticed. And that connects us to our past. And that laughs at our hubris and limitations, while speaking to us of the darkness we cannot say out loud.

In the end, it is art that allows us to understand, express, and share science. While science works to order the matter of the world, art orders the meaning of the world.

In my practice of design these two worlds of meaning and matter, of aesthetics and scientific knowledge, of quality and quantity, of mystery and certainty, of intuition and expertise, come together to create new possibilities for shaping our world.

As a designer, everything I do draws on the arts and the aesthetic dimensions of cultural life, and also rests on the foundation of the scientific project. Everything I do summons up the mystery of beauty and the history of form, but demands the technical base of knowledge for its success. Nothing we make can succeed that does not draw on our technical expertise and the science of material and energy and process. Nothing we make is relevant if it doesn’t “work”. But nothing we make is relevant if it is not cultural, and beautiful in some dimension.

Buckminster Fuller once wrote, “When I am working on a problem, I never think about beauty, but when I have finished, if the solution is not beautiful, I know it is wrong.”

Without the dimension that we call art- color and texture, form and material, juxtaposition and composition, humor and metaphor- the full potential is somehow unrealized. No matter how efficient or effective, no matter how “smart,” without language of art, the things we make are limited in meaning and potential. It is art that connects to our life, to human needs and emotions- and that allows us to build a bridge to new possibilities.

At no time in human history has the potential for designing solutions that contribute to the benefit of humankind been greater than it is today. Because of the glowing knowledge in both science and the arts, our possibilities will be even greater tomorrow.

Design Is The Art of Science by Bruce Mau in a great new book, Glimmer. I think this is so fundementally important for all of us to understand and put into practice in our work. (via wearethedigitalkids)

bruce is the man.  i have a book that isn’t readily available elsewhere.  his firm designed and created it for mdc partners.  in other words, why do i pay so much attention to “design?”

because it matters.

Mar. 26 2009