sink then swim

2012-02-08T17:20:00.002-06:00

__(artist in clothes)
ED RUSCHA IN BAND OF OUTSIDERS

The universe has no history; it cannot have history. It contains everything including time/history. History cannot therefore extract itself from the universe and then contain the universe. This what I understood from watching the second installment of Art Meets Science and Spirituality in a Changing Economy, The Chaotic Universe. The thought exhausts me——it's difficult to unlearn conventions——but I accept it. In other news, artist Ed Ruscha models for Band of Outsiders. I love.

2012-02-06T23:52:00.000-06:00

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___(garçon manqué)
PATTI SMITH, DIVISIBLE BY 4

Photograph by Renaud Monfourny

Yesterday [few days ago now; I wanted to post this but chickened out but fuck it!] Saint Paul was blurred by fog and not by the snow we expected, like we do every winter, and which has only shown in sporadic, quickly melted quantities. Maybe it's the fog that made me do it but I wanted to unsee this photograph. I wanted all the points that make it to dissipate. I could have squinted my eyes, instead I gathered from google multiples of this image in different sizes (for once, I was looking for the tiniest ones too) and blew them up to fit the parameters I set up for this blog. In other words, I ruined someone else's photograph. All the information is still there, therefore it's still the same exact image.

2012-02-06T23:17:00.000-06:00

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___(garçon manqué)
THIS GIRL, photographed by Valeria Lazareva
On the many ways to wear a denim jacket à la garçonne.

2012-02-01T23:55:00.000-06:00

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__(poem)
HERE by
WISLAWA SZYMBORSKA, who died today.

Blue Marble Earth, from NASA

I can't speak for elsewhere,
but here on Earth we've got a fair supply of everything.
Here we manufacture chairs and sorrows,
scissors, tenderness, transistors, violins,
teacups, dams, and quips.

There may be more of everything elsewhere,
but for reasons left unspecified they lack paintings,
picture tubes, pierogies, handkerchiefs for tears.

Here we have countless places with vicinities.
You may take a liking to some,
give them pet names,
protect them from harm.

There may be comparable places elsewhere,
but no one thinks they're beautiful.

Like nowhere else, or almost nowhere,
you're given your own torso here,
equipped with the accessories required
for adding your own children to the rest.
Not to mention arms, legs, and astounded head.

Ignorance works overtime here,
something is always being counted, compared, measured,
from which roots and conclusions are then drawn.

I know, I know what you're thinking.
Nothing here can last,
since from and to time immemorial the elements hold sway.
But see, even the elements grow weary
and sometimes take extended breaks
before starting up again.

And I know what you're thinking next.
Wars, wars, wars.
But there are pauses in between them too.
Attention!——people are evil.
At ease——people are good.
At attention wastelands are created.
At ease houses are constructed in the sweat of brows,
and quickly inhabited.

Life on Earth is quite a bargain.
Dreams, for one, don't charge admission.
Illusions are costly only when lost.
The body has its own installment plan.

And as an extra, added feature,
you spin on the planet's carousel for free,
and with it you hitch a ride on the intergalactic blizzard,
with times so dizzying
that nothing here on Earth can even tremble.

Just take a closer look:
the tables stands exactly where it stood,
the piece of paper still lies where it was spread,
through the open window comes a breath of air,
the walls reveal no terrifying cracks
through which nowhere might extinguish you.

Photographs of Saturn, a non-Earth where, I trust Szymborska, no one or nothing is eating pierogies,

taken from NASA's web space.

2012-01-14T15:18:00.000-06:00

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__(je veux)
ENVELOPE clutch by Céline
SHAPES AFTER GUY (AND LOST AT SEA) necklaces by RoLu, available at Sight Unseen.

In my mind's eye, these two objects——well, RoLu's object is really a set of objects——would go nicely together. If I were an astute accessory person, that is.

(source)

2012-01-12T10:10:00.000-06:00

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__(experience)
LE REVE DANS LE VIDE

We were still in the airplane and you wanted to go high enough so we could touch the ceiling of the world. It turns out the ceiling is not that far. We quickly reached it, and it looked like a regular dropped white ceiling. We looked around and the whole world, as it revealed itself to us, was just a big music hall, full of old people, somewhere in New York City. The hall, the world, also had shitty plastic window blinds. When the police finally came after us, we were back in a blue sky. Outside the world and into the void.

This part of the dream, originally omitted in the post below, reminds me of Yves Klein's The Void. I swear my dream was a work by Yves Klein. When he made his famous color blue, IKB, short for International Klein Blue, it has been said that he regarded the sky as his greatest work. At least that's what the film Yves Klein: La Revolution Bleue told me. I don't know if that was the factual or the fictional part. In any case, if Klein can claim authorship on what is rightfully nobody's, it is right to say that he also made my dream, almost exactly 50 years after his death.

"Avec le vide, les pleins pouvoirs" ___Albert Camus

(with the void, full powers)

2012-01-11T14:48:00.000-06:00

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__(experience)

LE REVE BLEU

I was having breakfast with you and a couple of other people (can't remember them), and you kept referring to this Nick guy, I finally asked who he was and you said he was your boyfriend. Confused, I asked what about Jon, and you said you hadn't dated in ages. I was then really mad at you for not telling me until then. I started to walk away but suddenly we were, together again, stealing an airplane and you were flying it and doing all kinds of acrobatics in the air. I was scared but I liked it too. Then the police found us and started shooting at us. At one point, the door on your side of the plane was open and you almost fell out but I held you by the hand. You were dangling on the side, wearing this blue dress that looked really cool in the wind, against the sky. And you were smiling. I was so scared you were going to be shot. We got away somehow and ended up in Australia. The plane then crashed in a tree. We ran in separate ways, trying to hide from the police. I found myself in a geological site with all these amazing, beautiful rock formations but I didn't know where to go from there. Then I saw this man, a mixture of aborigine and white blood, who worked there. I asked him for directions. He told me I could go home with him since he was done with his shift. As we walked to the train station, I was still scared but I was falling in love. He then held my hand and I felt fine. We had to jump, with our bodies super straight, feet first, into this blue lake and go to the bottom of it (that's where the train station was). While I was still sinking, I looked around and there were a lot of people doing the same thing. I held my breath, scared because I can't swim but trusted the man that I would indeed get to the bottom, safe. I got to the bottom safe and there he was, waiting for me. Then I woke up.

This morning, I wrote to my friend about a dream I had just dreamt. She was in it. The airplane part feels like my own version of Thelma & Louise, which I recently saw for the first time and loved! It is now one of my favorite films of all time. The blueness of the whole dream——sky, dress, rocks, lake——is probably because my mind is still tinted in blue by Yves Klein: La Revolution Bleue, a fantastic partially fictional documentary on the artist that I recently purchased from the Walker Art Center sale. Here are images I captured of the film.

2012-01-05T18:07:00.000-06:00

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__(photographer, photographed)
SAM HOOLIHAN, at JC PENNY

Sam Hoolihan on portraiture,

Out of all possible subject matter, I find human faces and bodies the most engaging and powerful. Transforming a breathing, thinking, warm body into a two-dimensional frozen image is a profound abstraction that generates so many questions. The more mystery left in a portrait the more my imagination gets to chew on the missing pieces.

On being photographed at JC Penny's,

I have found that when I create elaborate structures or obstacle courses around a portrait sitting, it sculpts a certain expression and atmosphere in the photograph. When I leave my house, travel down highways and into suburbs, navigate shopping mall parking lots and escalators, and walk through the different clothing sections of JCPenney’s, I arrive in a totally different state of mind for the portrait than if I was shooting in the comfort of my own home. I have a twenty-minute session to work with and can’t touch the camera. All of these obstacles affect my expression, body language, and shake my self-confidence. It forces me to embrace imperfections and lose control for a bit. My recent Falling series is exploring a fullbody loss of control.There is also the performative aspect of a portrait sitting that has always fascinated me. Even as a child I thought portrait studios were like small stages. I guess I’ve chosen to fully embrace that idea and see how far I can push it. There are so many more possibilities for the stage at Penney’s. The trick is to keep it subtle.

Images and text taken from an InDigest interview with Sam. I had the pleasure of working with him what seems like forever ago. You can see my posts about the project, here / here / and here.

2011-12-26T21:05:00.000-06:00

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__(object)
ROLU 4 OMMU

This next year will start on a great note for this African. I walk into 2012 in great company. More precisely, in the company of three curious men who spend their time and capacities thinking up ingenious things. I am talking about my brothers Matt, Mike and Sammie of ROLU who, as of few weeks ago, have so graciously welcomed me as an intern in their world. I can't wait to see what lies ahead. One thing I am sure of is that this blog is going to be heavily informed by what I about to encounter at ROLU. So stay tuned. But first, please have a look at their recently launched project, rolu 4 ommu, for which I lent my body. All the shapes on the site can be moved around and about, so go ahead and make your own new compositions. Also, read more about the project on ROLU's blog. A Happy New Year to all!!!!

ROLU 4 OMMU is four pieces of furniture, two large modular adaptable chairs, Chair 1 and Chair 2, as well as A Desk and A Desk Chair, that are part of a new design ROLU made for OMMU's store in Athens. Also produced in this project was a bookshelf that is based on a work by the artist Seth Price and a ladder. Price's essay Décor Holes came to be an important part of our thinking as these pieces started to emerge. The writing discusses, in part, the "sample" as it exists in modern music and questions it raises about ownership. We started to ask ourselves "When does something... become something else?" We wanted the work we produced for this project to have a theoretical basis that pointed towards language. We also wanted to think about motion. We like to use the term "sitting as seeing" to describe a philosophical ghost we are chasing. The forms of these pieces are, in a sense, like "visual samples." They are based on shapes found in drawings the choreographer Trisha Brown made in the early seventies. These drawings contain a sense of motion and it's easy to see their visual connection to dance but, they also look like typography... like a written language we don't quite recognize. And so we ask ourselves: When does a dance become a drawing? When does a drawing become a chair? Can a chair act as a kind of choreographer? Maybe we'll never know but we love how they turned out and hope you do too!

(images, videos and text taken from rolu4ommu.com)

2011-12-26T20:54:00.000-06:00

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__(times)
CHRISTMAS

I hitched a ride to the Great Plains of North Dakota to go see family for Christmas. While there, I also saw old friends; it was as though it hadn't been close to ten years since we acted that foolish. I like being a fool. Christmas was spent at a cabin overlooking a beautiful frozen lake on a Indian reservation. The historical circumstances that allowed me and my family to be on that reservation, as guests of not a Native American, are frankly a bit sad to recount here but there we were, merry with too much champagne... for baby Jesus, I suppose. And grateful I was, regardless.

2011-12-26T20:04:00.003-06:00

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__(photograph of a photograph)
MERCE CUNNINGHAM
by RICHARD AVEDON
by yours truly

2011-12-17T00:21:00.000-06:00

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__(object)
DRESS BY REI KAWAKUBO
of COMME DES GARÇONS

This dress is made of double-layered stretch material with an internal pad. It is part of the Body Meets Dress, Dress Meets Body collection [Spring/Summer 1997], through which the designer intended to unify body lines with the dress.In 20th century fashion, the natural beauty of the human body was valued above all. However, this trend placed restrictions on dressmaking. Kawakubo tried to eliminate the stagnant relationship between the human body and the clothes that limited each other's development; that is, the human body restricted the clothes, while the clothes restricted the body. Her efforts resulted in Kawakubo creating designs with a fresh beauty, as seen in this one-piece dress, that had an impact throughout the world. Merce Cunningham (1919–2009), an eminent choreographer, was inspired by this dress to produce the dance performance Scenario (1997).

(Text and image taken from Kyoto Costume Institute. Images from the CDG collection can be seen here.)

2011-12-15T18:18:00.000-06:00

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__(je veux)
COMME des GARÇONS, LARGE ZIP POUCH

(As seen on La Garçonne)

2011-12-08T23:10:00.000-06:00

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__(photographer)

LAURIE FRANCK
part deux

I work on fascination
What we trust
What we don't
I work with fears

Michel François's work reminded of one of my favorite young photographers working today: Laurie Franck. I have shown her work once before. Like Michel, Laurie admits to exacerbating the oddness of the mundane in her photography. But the similarities stop there! The way I see it, if Michel=sculpture, then Laurie=performance art. In addition, Michel's portraits as shown in the previous post read like landscapes (he closes in unto his subjects, eliminating the contours of the body, which makes the body virtually infinite. Look at the Michel's third portrait and tell me you don't see land, horizon and sky.) Laurie, on the other hand, steps back farther and lets the viewer take in the setting and the characters in the unfolding drama of her portraits. To my great surprise, Laurie contacted me a couple months ago. We exchanged several emails and I learned first hand about her process as a photographer. I have translated a small portion. I know Laurie won't mind if I share (n'est ce pas, Laurie?)

ps. Speaking of drama, this is fantastic!

I have always loved reinterpreting things, appropriating them for myself. I have done the same thing with photography. I shoot what fascinates me, also what scares me. I work with the idea of hesitation... As a photographer, I am trying to highlight strange moments from daily life. I sometimes stage those moments to expose the strangeness within. I imagine that at times this works, and at other times, it doesn’t. However, I would like to say is that, beyond the fact that my creative process is a work in progress and that it might still have some gaps, it nonetheless posits an effort of understanding that every viewer is free to exercise.

(See Laurie photos on her Tumblr, also her recent entry on Get It On The Neg.)

2011-12-05T16:46:00.000-06:00

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__(photographer)
MICHEL FRANÇOIS

In his photographs, [Michel François] finds his subjects in the real ordinary world but what is registered by the artist is the unexpected in the familiar. According to him, "L’ art, de toute façon, c’est la vie que l’on sculpte." or, how I would translate it, "Art, in any case, is life itself sculpted."

(Images and text first seen at We Find Wildness)

2011-12-03T01:24:00.001-06:00

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__(project)
A KICK IN MY OWN LADY NUTS

part 5/7

Part 6 and 7 will never be. The week's end has come and gone. The "project" was only meant to last this long. It all started with a set of words. I called it an idiom. Most idioms are lost on me. I use them incorrectly or I just make them up. A kick in one's own lady nuts, for example, is not really a thing people say. The words formed in my troubled head and instantly took on a meaning of their own. This happens often. Last week someone told me that her family was "ripping carpet" and it sure sounded like something deep was happening. The family had to be going through tough times. I was about to say that I, too, had been ripping carpet, but paused for a moment and asked her to explain what that meant. Please. She casually said that they were taking an old carpet out of the family house... Like, an actual carpet. I was mildly disappointed. What a waste——not that I wish tough times on anybody——of a set of words that could mean so much more. Ripping carpet should be an idiom for working through a difficult situation. Perhaps unlike a lighter version of confronting demons. A kick in my own lady nuts is synonymous to that thought. This past week I have posted images taken with my phone. Images I dare call photographs. Of my home, friends, myself and other things. It has not been easy to put myself out there to this extent and, on top of that, to think of what I was doing as photography (this I know is untrue, but what is photography anyway?) It had to be done, though. Somehow, I had to bring myself down from a suspended state of inexplicable fear that plagued me for a while. And a kick in my own lady nuts was the only way I knew to do it.

2011-12-02T01:02:00.001-06:00

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__(project)
A KICK IN MY OWN LADY NUTS

part 4/7

2011-11-30T10:39:00.001-06:00

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__(project)
A KICK IN MY OWN LADY NUTS

part 3/7

2011-11-29T00:26:00.005-06:00

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__(project)
A KICK IN MY OWN LADY NUTS

part 2/7

2011-11-28T08:32:00.002-06:00

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__(project)
A KICK IN MY OWN LADY NUTS

part 1/7

2011-11-27T20:43:00.018-06:00

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__(photographs)
THE FAMILY OF WOMAN

There is no savor

more sweet, more salt

Than to be glad to be

what, woman.

and who, myself

I am

Denise Levertov

Pages from The Family of Woman: A World-Wide Photographic Perception of Female Life and Being (1980). I guess I chose these images (not exactly a telling sample of the female experience as suggested on pages of the fantastic volume) for the following traits: angst, strangeness, nudity. The stoic posture of the two ladies directly below makes the image my favorite of the bunch. Looking at the intently listening woman, I imagine the heaviness of secret words filling that sliver of space between her and her confident.

ps. Thank You, Amelia, beautiful new friend, for letting me steal this book for a while.

SPAIN / Eva Rubinstein

U.S.A. / Louis Stettner

U.S.A. / Frances McLaughlin-Gill

U.S.A. / Shelly Rusten / Black Star

U.S.A. / Mary Mark / Magnum

NEPAL / Elaine Brière

2011-11-08T21:49:00.159-06:00

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__(photograph)

MYRIAM and BOTTICELLI
in MORROCCO

I've never been, yet I imagine northern Africa might feel like the sunny photographs over at Myriam Nassir Zadeh. It's a very specific sunniness. It shines brightly but it is perhaps not scorching hot. Morrocco comes to mind whenever I find myself on MNZ's website. This image speaks to me, though it is not the sunniest because the light has been diffused by what appears to be a screen between the photographer and the woman. Its strength as a portrait, if you were to ask me, is that it possesses the linear grace of an early Renaissance painting.* It is indeed as though Botticelli's Venus stepped away from the shell of her birth and dressed herself in pant and turtleneck. She now (change of tense is here intentional) turns away from us but keeps her elegantly broken stance. The moment captured is also so damn surrealist with that shadow (an art element mostly attributed to surrealism.) The shadow is so pronounced that the woman is no longer facing just a wall, rather she is staring at herself. Wall turned mirror by the sun.

* I stole that line from wiki's page on Sandro Botticelli.

2011-11-03T23:10:00.008-05:00

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__(photographer)
UTA BARTH

This one is my blog version of a thank you note and it goes out to Matt of ROLU. There is no better feeling, in my opinion, than meeting a kindred spirit. Perhaps better is when the spirit is question is also a kind and genius soul which is precisely what Matt is. Thanks for great conversation and lunch (btw, I never got that avocado on the BLT, smileyface... um, how does one include a ;-) right before the closing parenthesis?)

2011-11-03T17:54:00.004-05:00

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__(clothes)
DESTRUCTION

When it comes to do-it-yourselves, I am a destroyer. I can't afford traditional therapy; taking out my angst on my wardrobe has proven to be an apt substitute. I rip; I tear; I stretch. Sometimes I stain, too, but this is usually an inadvertent result of my careless ——ahem, carefree—— nature.

2011-10-11T14:10:00.015-05:00

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__(imagined biography)
the gentleman in the photographs of
ROBERT DOISNEAU and MALICK SIDIBE

The first photograph is by French photographer Robert Doisneau, probably taken in the fifties. The second by Malick Sidibe of Mali is one of my all time favorites, most certainly taken in the sixties after Mali's independence from the French. Sidibe is mostly known for his portraits of the country's youth, negotiating what it was to be young and African in the new post-colonial era. But look at the resemblance between the two images: a black and white square of a party scene, a couple dancing away while others, seated, seem completely uninterested in the spectacle in front of them. The most striking resemblance, however, is the dapper gentlemen entertaining the ladies with sweet, smooth moves. I choose to believe that it's the same gentleman, singular, an adventurous type moving in time and space looking for a good time, charming the ladies. On two occasions (that we know of), he finds himself in front of would be world famous photographers.

2011-10-09T01:31:00.013-05:00

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__(clothes)
THE COLOR OF A SHIRT

So much of it left the shirt. Color chose tap water over silk. I doubt the shirt is even clean; I was afraid it might disintegrate if I kept on rubbing. It has shape and fit and silk but, to me, the shirt is the color. What would be left of it if the water and its vampiric greed did not stop? It saddens me to know that my shirt is now part of Saint Paul's sewage system. I'm certain it was meant to be cleaned by other means but it seemed fine in the end. Which leads me to wonder: How much color does it really hold if it can survive such bleeding?

2011-09-29T03:06:00.006-05:00

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__(object)

GARBAGE

PACKING PAPER

Out of the garbage, I picked this packing paper and made this. It slowly and forever turns around and around. But how? I'll tell you how. Magic. I listened (in preparation for tomorrow's show) to Poliça when I hung it from the ceiling. Poliça is a brand new outfit that Chris is part of. Probably the best part. Chris is a great man to all but most importantly to Sara, a good friend.

2011-09-25T22:38:00.011-05:00

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__(photographer)
LISETTE MODEL

When I proclaimed that the woman in this photograph had mad style, someone asked me what exactly did I considered to be style. I don't know, I said. What is style? I am not afraid to say I see it when compelled to do so. Taste is subjective, so they say, I should therefore be able to answer that question since whatever style I am referring to only pertains to my own sensibilities. I looked hard in an effort to gather all the amorphous thoughts/concepts in my head into a half decent response to the question. Still, nothing. I took in more of the photograph and all I said, passingly, was that I am most inspired when clothes seem to have a utility. A purpose, if you will.

I consider 20th century photographs to be primary texts for all kinds of modern truths including truths about personal style. You see, being truly a modern invention, photography even in its earlier forms depicts realities not completely alien to my own——unlike art depictions of life from a time far more removed from now, say Dutch paintings of Johannes Vermeer from the 17th century, another obsession of mine——I can always draw conclusions and/or lessons from my favorite photographs. Take this portrait for example. This woman is amazing. Her stance is as sedentary as it is purposeful. Is the strength I detect derived from the woman ostensibly resisting being photographed? I consider this to be an action shot, a frozen series of movement, a movie. Her very reservation from being photographed is the heart of this movie. Where was that glare in her eye directed the second before and after the shutter went off? Time has immortalized that face the way I see it, but did it ever have a different expression? That is irrelevant now. Everything in the frame seems to be a character in the movie. The woman, the protagonist. Cloth and shoe, the supporting roles. In this instance, the purpose of clothes is protect the woman and help her protest the violation of photography. Because of that purpose, perhaps that is why I see serious, angry style. Sign me up, man! If pressed, I would also add that here we have oversized heavy knits, brogues and cropped jeans. If this woman were still alive and wearing the same things, in that exact composition, I am pretty sure she would be on trend.

Photograph first seen at Dossier Journal.

2011-09-17T10:26:00.008-05:00

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__(season)
AUTUMN

There's little romance to Autumn in these parts of the world. Blink an eye once and you might miss the beauty of leaves changing colors. Autumn is a messenger, here for a very short while to warn about the dread of cold days ahead. Everything starts to close in and from here on forward, it's all about self-preservation. The body is the measure; the warmth it needs, the goal. I think and talk about clothes the most in Autumn. I also "do" more with clothes this time of the year because of the volume and variety of clothing I am allowed to stack on my person. Layers are great but even better is that some exposed skin is still permissible in small dosage without looking ridiculous. The fun begins. And it begins with a hand-knit sweater I picked up at a resale shop last year. My wild guess is that some crafty childless aunt made it for a relative, gave it to them and the stupid, lucky bastard was like "What the hell? There goes crazy Aunty and her weird gifts. I will sell this for 5 dollars and use the money to buy me some drugs." Or something along those lines. That was just my first thought. In any case, what a fool they were. Their loss, my gain.

The two self-portraits below are taken from inside and outside the sweater, as I was sniffing away the months the poor thing spent in a box of "cold seasons clothes" without air. Right now, the thing smells like it photographs. Slightly musty, definitely earthy. This thing, my friends, will be my closest companion for the next months, well beyond Autumn and into Winter, when it will be covered with some other garment. Of the warmest sort.

2011-09-05T04:20:00.009-05:00

__(photographer, film maker, clothes maker)
MAX VADAKUL / WIM WENDERS
/ YOHJI YAMAMOTO

You live wherever you live,
You do whatever work you do,
You talk however you talk,
You eat whatever you eat,
You wear whatever clothes you wear,
You look at whatever images you see…

YOU'RE LIVING HOWEVER YOU CAN.

YOU ARE WHOEVER YOU ARE.

"Identity"…

of a person,

of a thing,

of a place.

"Identity",

The word itself gives me shivers.

It rings of calm, comfort, contendedness.

What is it, identity?

To know where you belong?

To know you self worth?

To know who you are?

How do you recognize identity?

We are creating an image of ourselves.

We are attempting to resemble this image…

Is that what we call identity?

The accord

between the image we have created of ourselves

and … ourselves?

Just who is that, "ourselves"?

We live in the cities.

The cities live in us …

time passes.

We move from one city to another,

from one country to another.

We change languages,

we change habits,

we change opinions,

we change clothes,

we change everything.

Everything changes. And fast.

When they made me the book buyer for the Art / Design section, little did the folks at the bookstore realize that I would set out to build that perfect visual library that I wished were mine but could never afford. For my own gazing, in trickle wonderful photographers, architects, designers and artists in beautiful tomes that sometimes I can hardly believe I am beholding ——I am blessed—— Tears are shed when they sell, but I suppose selling them is the idea.

Yohji Yamamoto has been on the shelf for some time and just the other day I finally picked him up. When my eyes fell on the first image above shown, that all too familiar unrelenting sensation of a budding obsession took over me. Evidently, photographer Max Vadakul has worked and grown with Yohji since the 1980s. He is given carte blanche on the campaign photoshoots. He works however and with whomever he wishes and the results are...well, I am in love! The first three images were taken for the Fall collection of 1984; the last two, Fall 2000.

Aesthetically speaking, I always say that I am into "modern ugliness." It's an awkward term but I don't know what else to call it. It's something I am working through and this blog might even be my platform for that exercise. In an earlier post, I quoted Miuccia Prada saying that her greatest contribution to the world of fashion was that she changed ugly into cool. I agreed, then. Now I see things differently. What she arguably did was changing ugly into chic. There is a difference. Between chic and cool. Yohji has never bothered with chic but his clothes are undeniably cool. Therefore, Yohji deserves that credit. He works with ugly——modern ugly——and turns it into clothes and anyone wearing them would, I assume, feel so damn cool. Although, I doubt Yohji cares for cool either. I got that feeling as I watched Notebook on Cities and Clothes, a documentary on Yohji by the great German film maker Wim Wenders who also narrates, rather philosophically, the whole thing. He introduces it with the words, or is it a poem, that I put in between the images. A kind soul uploaded the film on YouTube. The quality of the videos is mediocre; subtitles are missing where they ought to be; and it's missing one portion but it's still super amazing! I have come to learn the patience that great cinematic works sometimes require of us. Especially when the work itself is an incomplete, blurry copy of the original, fragmented and appropriated for YouTube. Who am I to say anything, after all, I've appropriated Vadakul's photographs into shapeless images because of the way I snapped the pages of the book.

2011-08-26T21:32:00.011-05:00

_(magazine)
A MAGAZINE CURATED
BY GIAMBATTISTA VALLI

These not so great scans are from A Magazine, specifically from the 'Timeless Influence' feature, a page by page juxtaposition of Valli's dresses in the making and the art pieces that informed the silhouettes and, at times, the colors.

1. Louise Bourgeois / Black Flames , 1947-1949

2. Giambattista Valli / Fitting VIII

More after the jump.

3. Louise Bourgeois / The Good Mother , 2006

4. Giambattista Valli / Fitting II

5. Lucio Fontana / Concetto Spaziale (Vaso Nero), 1957

6. Giambattista Valli, Fitting VII

2011-08-19T21:22:00.011-05:00

_(color)
YELLOW

The folks who lived in my apartment before me took to heart the idea of a sun room. Why else would they paint it the very color of the sun? To be fair, the camera of my phone changed the already bright color into this brain-aneurysm-inducing shade. Ever the problem solver, I employed my voodoo powers to change the room, with one single touch of my hand, into my favorite color for walls: white. I am rusty with my animist magic abilities because the color now resides in my fingernails, as can be clearly seen.

2011-08-19T20:48:00.011-05:00

_(photographer)
ELGER ESSER

In the last two installments, I was among stars, then descended unto mountain tops, now I come down further and crash into waters with Elger Esser's photographs. That's all well and good but allow me to say this: Selecting and stacking thumbnails of any art work within a footlong of a blog post's vertical real estate feels grossly irreverent. To the artist and consequently to the work itself. If, in real life, I were to encounter all the photographs that I have come to love and I were standing there facing the work and the work facing me, I am fairly certain——at least, I hope——that one of the things I would feel would be shame. Shame that at one point in my life, I reduced the photographs to puny pale shadows of themselves. Art, forgive me.

Nothing threatens, not clouds, or surf, or wind, or activity of any kind. Everything is tranquil, settled. The range of color is extremely narrow, encompassing sky, water, sand, plants, buildings. Within this compass, and even because it is so narrow, so compressed, the range of color, movement, and light, and of emotion, is enormous. The browns of brick or stone or dried plants seem all the same brown, but of course they are not; they are infinitely varied. The horizon line seems featureless but is full of incident that suggests another horizon line behind it. The movements of water and of clouds in Esser's photographs are merged, so that timed modulation becomes the vessel of all movement; every molecule is understood to be in play. ——Donal Goddard reviews Elger Esser's photographs.

2011-08-10T15:32:00.002-05:00

__(phenomenon)
THE TRIANGULAR

SHADOWS OF MOUNTAINS

Seen from their summits almost all mountain shadows look triangular regardless of the mountain's shape. This is a perspective effect. You are standing at the top edge of a long tunnel of shadowed air and looking along its length. The tunnel's cross section is the shape of the mountain but its "end" is so far away that it looks insignificant. The finite size of the sun also causes the umbral (fully shaded) parts of the shadow to converge and eventually taper away. The tapering sets limits to the umbral length of shadows. That of the Earth is over a million miles. That of a high mountain can be two to three hundred miles. Triangular shadows are not seen from objects much smaller than mountains because their shadows are not long enough.

source

(text taken from Atmospheric Optics)

2011-08-10T15:25:00.015-05:00

__(hobby)

ASTROPHOTOGRAPHY

Late summer is a time for vacation-type travel. Since my current financial situation does not afford me such luxury, I have let myself travel otherwise. My mind has been in the stars. Literally. All last week was spent with the peeps at NASA's website, as they took me into worlds above and beyond, one picture-a-day at a time. That's how I came across other fellow cosmic travelers: astrophotographers. Astrophotography is a large sub-discipline in amateur astronomy. It is essentially a hobby. Other hobbyists buy metal detectors and the like from late-night informercials to fulfill their curiosity, but these star gazers are in a serious league of their own. Some even build their own intricate telescopic contraptions to look into and capture the cosmos, well beyond the human eye's limitations. This, they do for the beauty, not the science. There are two types of astrophotography: Planetary and deep sky. I looove the deep sky stuff, like the work of Takayuki Yoshida shown below. We all have seen such images before but it is my argument that the beauty within is so grand, so unrelatable that it is nearly impossible to fully grasp and truly appreciate. Maybe that's why they end up on cheesy greeting cards and covers of every imaginable New Age publication. The stuff that any sensible person would call too hippy dippy to be taken seriously.

I recognize, with mild amusement, that New Age has been enjoying a moment with the cool kids. Here's one effective example. I can't tell if the fascination is tinged with the same irony that afflicted all things aesthetic for a while (irony is over, right?), or if this is a sincere undertaking. Will some members of this young generation in fact grow to be the weird old people who dress like pagan druids and chant and cast spells and things like that? Time will tell. I don't mind references to the mystical majesty of the skies. I even enjoy the New Age sort. I think Stevie Nicks is cool. I take notes from the witchy vibes of the likes of Tavi and stores like Maryam Nassir Zadeh. What I am really drawn to, however, is the sort of work that seems to be emotionally removed from the subject that is being referenced. Most notably, Christopher Kane's resort collection for 2011. The tunic below, by a certain Stine Goya is a fantastic example as well.

2011-08-05T02:05:00.013-05:00

_(place)

TWIN CITIES

+ COSTELLO'S

It was the river that made them two——

The mills on one side,

The cathedral on the other.

(from Twin Cities, a poem by Carol Muske-Dukes)

Rebellion took a rather pathetic form two years ago. Before then, life happened on one side of the Mississippi river and since the "drastic" decision, it now happens here. Here, the other side, is at best 5 miles east of there. An outsider would notice little difference between the two sides; it's one big sprawling Midwestern monoculture with its timid stances on urbanity and modern life. But to the locals, the difference couldn't be clearer. There, you will find beautiful youth and culture. It's very au courant. Here, we have no culture. At least not one to be excited about. Instead, we have enclaves of the poor and the immigrant neighboring the old and rich, comfortably nestled in the beautiful remains of glory days gone by, inherited from the likes of F. Scott Fitzgerald who, almost a century ago, lived not very far from where Garrison Keillor now lives. The gist of the rebellion is that I no longer wanted to be there with the youth and its ostensible culture. Here appealed to me mainly because it was, well, not there.

On this side of the river, halfway between the poor and the rich is a drinking bar, one that most would call a dive (in actuality, there's plenty of these around but I'm partial to this one): Costello's. We congregate here. Us the poor, the sad, the amorous, the studious, the old, the queer, the young, the creepy, the heartbroken, the hopeful, the jaded, and sometimes even the rich. We come here and sit in the dim light to enjoy a pint of Summit beer or whatever. I often look up at the photos on the walls; the two shown below are the most striking. These two women (of the original Costello family, I am told) wouldn't probably fit in here now. But maybe they would. Maybe, at the time these portraits were taken, they were like, "Fuck you F. Scott and your rollicking twenties. We are going to wear awesome unfeminine clothes and ride motorcycles wherever the wind takes us." Just like me, they seem like rebels. Ok, I am not that rebellious. Sigh.

2011-07-28T19:58:00.002-05:00

_(photographer)

MICHAEL WESELY

still lifes

2011-07-27T03:32:00.005-05:00

_(photographer)

LAURIE

FRANCK

Just her greens. This selection doesn't do justice to the photographer's work, really. She is rather one part Francesca Woodman, one part Viviane Sassen and other parts I don't recognize. All of which merge into one. Her very own. Here is her great tumblr.

2011-07-22T01:16:00.002-05:00

_(garçon manqué)

TILDA SWINTON

I haven't bought a copy of W Magazine in years. That is until I saw Tilda on the cover of the current issue. (There must be change in the air for the magazine, now that Edward Enninful is the new fashion and style director. I mean, after all, he was part of the rawest fashion time in recent history: The early nineties. With all the grittiness and angst. Yes!) So, Tilda. What a modern being, eh. I don't even know how else to describe her given that she glides along the spectrum of gender with such ease. A difficult one to love for some but I am a big fan. Her intelligence, singular voice, and insight in the ways of dress are always arresting. Shot by the fanciful Tim Walker for the expansive pages of W, this editorial, Planet Tilda, is sick. Just sick!

2011-07-22T01:15:00.001-05:00

_(clothes)

REJINA PYO
FALL 11

(link)

Mumus!!! Or boubous, like they are referred to by my fellow Africans. There's something about them that's calling out to me this summer. People talk about t-shirts and jeans as basics. When I think of basic, I think of the least altered form. A sheath, a sheet. Shouldn't that be the most basic of all garments?

(collection first seen at the blog that has scarred me for life, Hologram City)

2011-07-21T19:34:00.009-05:00

_(space)

MODERNITY
without THE
MODERN

(part deux, part une ici)

Space has been on my mind. It's always there. On my mind. Lately more so than ever. It could be because of my new place, the first one that really feels like home. In the last few years, I have been something of a vagabond when it comes to my living situation, always moving, always unconvinced with where I am, who I am. Hope to god that that's changing now. Slowly, I grow to accept a lot of things. The restlessness remains but perhaps it could be calmed down a bit. In the new home. I imagine a safe anchor around which everything else whirls. I read somewhere that it's quiet/still at the inner most part of a cyclone.

(These images are two superimposed halves of one larger, whole image. Love the space within. I did the splitting myself!
---Gordon Matta-Clark would be proud--- Following a link from i heart photograph, I saw it at Hologram City, a blog
that caters to the most perverse curiosity. It is really, really a hard one to take. I am not even going to link it.
You can google it if you have the heart.)

2011-07-19T00:41:00.017-05:00

_(place)

HOME

Today I felt I had to post something. Anything. Too much time has passed away from this computer which is sitting in its new home: the sunroom of the new apartment. I have occasionally looked up from my book and glanced at it ——the computer—— from the adjacent living room, feeling alienated from it, from our normally easy encounters and dialogues. Here's the fancy problem: the new place has more space than I have become used to. Not long ago, I slept in a closet that I had also turned into a bedroom. I would sleep with my face and body mere inches away from the hanging clothes that often resembled ominous ghostly figures when I would wake up in the middle of the night in that windowless hole of a room. At the time, the computer was just 2 paces from the kitchen in a tiny corner of the tiny living room (no dining room), at an arm's length of the couch. Our encounters were inevitable. The sleek frame of the iMac taunted all the time. I happily obliged. Now I have a sunroom for god sake. And a porch on the other end of the unit and, get this, a dining room! That's where among other things Joseph Beuys (the framed poster with the sun's glare that looks like tie made of an exclamation point) lives with Henry Bertoia (the chair, half of the pair I just acquired through Craigslist). By most standards, the place is not that big or fancy. To me, it's an entire universe. Mine to conquer and style. Hehe. I am still struggling to find balance on how to naturally navigate it all. And finally rule it.

Oh, there's also a backyard where wild flowers grow. I smile.

2011-07-09T17:47:00.005-05:00

_(photographer)

MARK BORTHWICK

of people and things

"in the back of thing`s is behind

the front of thing`s in the heart

of thing`s is behind the love of

thing`s is everything"

photographs and text taken from the monograph, Mark Borthwick: Not In Fashion

2011-07-06T17:11:00.004-05:00

_(garçons manqués)

LOUISE BOURGEOIS

GEORGIA O'KEEFFE

Photographed by IRVING PENN

(first seen at Everyday I Show)

2011-07-01T17:00:00.007-05:00

_(plausibe juxtaposition)

text by SHALA MONROQUE for A Magazine Curated By GIAMBATTISTA VALLI

photographs by ESTELLE HANANIA

Beauty is a dream. There is beauty in a dream, and it is the beauty of dreams that we reach for. There is so much pain in beauty, one person I am convinced who knew that very well is Alexander McQueen. When I am asked about beauty I can’t help but think of him, seeing how beauty literally killed him. He went so far, reached so far in his dreams, to pluck out of the ether, out of his sleep, his nightmares, his fantasies, his love and the vast expanse of knowledge to bring us beauty. ||| This same dream maker, is also a heartbreaker. I also think of Picasso and his voracity for creating beauty, the energy it required of him and everyone and everything around him to bring his vision of beauty to the world. ||| Dream maker, heartbreaker. My heart breaks for Van Gogh, when I think of his love letters to his brother Theo, when I think of the pain he endured just to have the world look at the beauty of peasants, the beauty of the working class. No one bought his beauty when he was alive, but he was so convinced of its value that nothing else mattered. He had to materialize, had to make matter and by that I mean materialize, make tangible the beauty of what was at the time ordinary… ||| And what of the Africans? What of them who made beautiful objects of ivory, of wood, of metal, of clay, of skin, of hair, of blood, of sound? Where did their beauty come from? I am speaking of centuries ago, millennia ago where a carver, or a drummer had no theatre, or museum to reference. Did their beauty not come from dreams, from visions, from feeling, from love? The beauty of the Africans is so tangible, so palpable that Picasso and Brancusi could not resist, were drawn to it, convinced to transform it, bring it to a new world. Once again taking what was ordinary, obscure, even ugly at that time and presenting it to the world as beauty.

Shala Monroque writes for A Magazine Curated By Giambattista Valli , text first read at
Shala's Rabbit Hole. Estelle Hanania photographs for MASKIMUM

2011-06-26T21:18:00.000-05:00

_(photographer)

EIRIK JOHNSON
/

ANIMAL HOLES

(link)

2011-06-20T23:26:00.006-05:00

_(object)

NEW, OLD BROGUES

Obviously, this is not a personal style blog. Who plops a leg on a desk to take a photo of their shoe? Someone who doesn't know what they're doing, that's who. That's me. I am just so into these babies. Found them second hand today. Don't know their make; they are totally nondescript in that regard. All I know is that they are navy blue leather ——I've never been able to resist that color——, made in Italy some time ago and that they vaguely remind me of the infamous Prada's brogue/creeper things. Like the less audacious, super poor man's version. Maybe?

2011-06-19T15:28:00.002-05:00

_(photographer)

JOEL MEYEROWITZ

/ WILDFLOWERS

(part deux)

(part une, ici)

(found here)

2011-06-16T20:39:00.011-05:00

_(object)

COLORED

VASES

AI WEIWEI

Too inept to write anything remotely intellectual, I am just going to give facts. These objects are the work of an important/international/modern cultural figure, Ai Weiwei, a prolific Chinese artist and social activist who lives and works in China, often exposing the country's stifling climate for free thinkers. In this piece, he dipped precious, quite ancient (from 5000 - 3000 BC, approximately) Chinese urns in industrial paint. The Architectural Review sums up the artist's intention with this piece this way: "Despite their seemingly innocent pigmentation, the rainbow defacement with industrial paint of these precious Han Dynasty pots form part of the artist’s larger critique of the Chinese state’s cultural and historical vandalism." It is well known that the state has not taken too well to the artist's work. Since the 3rd of April, Ai Weiwei has been detained by the Chinese government. He has not been seen or heard from ever since.

(Further reading on Ai Weiwei, on Colored Vases, FREE AI WEIWEI)

2011-06-16T02:21:00.001-05:00

_(object)

TRIFT /
JUDITH SENG

(link)

2011-06-15T18:43:00.005-05:00

_(portrait)

by DANIEL JACKSON

for ACNE PAPER

I. can't. wait. to get my hands on this issue. I wonder what the theme will be this time. (link)

edit: the issue is dedicated to the subject of youth. (link)

2011-06-14T23:55:00.005-05:00

_(clip)

NOT-SO-FASHION
FASHION VIDEOS

Personally, I react to the stories ——if they can be called that—— within these fashion videos before I even notice the clothes. Act da Fool, a film made by Harmony Korine for Proenza Schouler, is the most provocative. Yes, it's a punch of one black stereotype after another, but above everything and the reason why it's my favorite, it's a story of rebels and dreamers (Loveship did a great post on the piece a while back). I see the same us-against-the-world attitude in Ksubi's Kolors. What attracts me to Top Man's Ballad of a Lonely Masturbator video is that one is more transfixed on the naked woman than the dressed man who is basically perving out to the woman and her fantastic drawing-like body. I argue that to be the strength of the video. As a witness to the scene, the viewer somehow partakes in that perversion. I see it as admiration.

2011-06-08T03:10:00.008-05:00

_(editorial)

...KINEE DIOUF +

JUERGEN TELLER

(for TANK magazine, winter 2008,

10th anniversary issue)

The best editorial of all time. In my humble, biased opinion. (I've shared it before.)

I wouldn't change a single detail about these images. But if I could transplant myself in the next two, I would take away the belt, swap the Yves Saint Laurent heels for some Supergas and there I would have what I believe to be the best summer uniform. Summer is for undressing, figuratively. It's time to think the least about what you put on. Let the sun soak into you. Let it stick to you. Let it change the color and the feel of your skin however it may. Turn off the air conditioner and doze off to the humming of the loud fan. Walk around your home half-naked drinking Campari/sparkling mineral water/ice. I am not saying that I do any of the things I just mentioned. But I am and I do. Le smile. Also, jump in the lake (or for those of us who can't swim, slowly walk into the lake and stay close to the shore.)

2011-06-06T04:01:00.008-05:00

_(photographer)

HARRY

CALLAHAN

Of the same photographer, I couldn't find any other image that spoke as precisely as this one. I searched high and low (on the interwebs) but my efforts yielded nothing. So here's the lone gem. A fantastic moment. Photography stole my heart. Go to the Walker Art Center right about fucking now and see this with your own eyes. Your heart will skip a beat, too.

2011-06-04T19:36:00.002-05:00

_(impromptu
sculptures)

SPIDER WEB
COCOONED TREES

(photographs by Russell Watkins)

(first seen here)

2011-06-04T19:14:00.004-05:00

_(object)

ANIMALS
/

MICHAEL
SCHONER

(link)

2011-05-29T00:02:00.003-05:00

_(photographer)

FRANCESCA

WOODMAN

part deux

2011-05-25T14:27:00.017-05:00

_(clothes)

ON BEING A SHEEP

+ PHOTOGRAPH

by OLA RINDAL

Not long ago, I convinced myself that I was going to live a post-fashion life. I would stick with clothes that were devoid of tricks, clothes that nicely complemented my adult self. At the time these thoughts were circling in my head, it seemed the whole clothes-obsessed world ——with Phoebe Philo as the messiah—— was agreeing with me and along the way, helping me think through this transition. It was a time of growing up gracefully in an interesting way but scaling back on gimmickry. Even though I believed that fashion was, just like me, growing up, I should have also known that there is no cruise control on the fashion machine. I was soon betrayed. Yes, I take the change back to fun-times fashion very personally. Why fix something that ain't broke, man? Bananas, monkeys and bright colors among other things are totally of the moment now. I feel like Ms. Prada is making an African joke, that cheeky monkey! Don't get me wrong, I love fun times big time. Just not on my body. I also think I am taking myself too seriously, so I need to take a deep breath and chillax a bit. So, please, hit me with color (but hold the bananas and the monkeys!)

Here I am, excited to be the owner of a brightly colored item, totally outside my color palette comfort zone. This silk blouse was purchased for 4 dollars at the sad but amazing The Animal Ark thrift store in Saint Paul. Thanks Elizabeth for convincing me to get it! Knowing that it is more of a nod to Bowerbirds/Jil Sander than Prada, this is going to be my one item of clothing connecting me to the colorful state of fashion... In my dreams, I would like to feel like this photograph by Ola Rindal that I saw in latest apartamento magazine. In a volume that is loaded with images that commend the reader's attention and love, this one somehow stood out the most to me. That harsh ray of sunlight whiting out the woman's face makes this a brilliant portrait, but I love how the woman seems still at ease. In her clothes, in her home. It's very Margaret Howell and that is what I would like to achieve in the long run. For now, I am a sheep and I am in the market for a backbone.

2011-05-16T13:33:00.017-05:00

_(photographer)

JOEL MEYEROWITZ

/ REDHEADS

"Bare skin in summer sunlight! That time of year when we expose ourselves most, when we put aside the mask of social distinction that clothing so often represents. I wanted to see the way skin covers our bones, how it shines or is dappled, its creases and its marks, its color, and ——for the few clothes we do wear—— the way they fit and feel. So my curiosity led me to an aspect of photography and a set of questions that were new to me: What is a portrait? Who is it really of? Does it tell the truth? (Does it need to tell the truth?) Whose truth? How does one go about making a portrait?......

....... I have a feeling that it was a combination of summertime, when we all expose ourselves, and of being on the Cape [Cod] with that blueness of the sea and the sky that, more than anything else, drew me particularly to the flamboyant qualities of redheads. Their hair and the exotic flourish of their skin in sunlight were even redder and more visible in that blue surround. They, as we, are heliotropic——but more so. Like film itself, redheads are transformed by sunlight."

The text excerpts are taken from the foreword to Meyerowitz's monograph "REDHEADS."

The entire text can be found here. See more portraits after the jump...

2011-05-13T17:01:00.003-05:00

_(object)

IMPROMPTU
SCULPTURES

Muji packing paper
with Ikea curtain

I fail to see an ordinary piece of paper as ordinary. The weight, the flatness, the sound, the movement, the lines. It's all very beautiful to me. Paper becomes even more beautiful whenever those attributes are altered. Take packing paper for example: it is crumpled, shredded, and/or perforated (to serve and protect the packed objects). I only see sculpture, like this paper used by MUJI. This might make me sound crazy but I have always had a suspicion that I am crazy anyway, so it suits me fine. Ha. Anyway, I was saving the paper because I couldn't bring myself to throw it away quite yet. So, I "styled" it with a curtain (crazy!) and took these rather yellow photos. Now I can let the paper go.

2011-05-04T02:19:00.011-05:00

_(people)

PORTRAITS OF

MY ANCESTORS

Chances are that I am a descendant of the Burundian men in these portraits. The country of Burundi is a tiny speckle on the map of the world, claiming only a population of less than 9 million, already an exponential growth from the 6 million of about 20 years ago, let alone whatever the count was when these photographs were taken. My guess, as a former ——amateur—— archivist of printed matter, is that they date back to the 1910's and 20's. It is not far fetched to think that these royal gentlemen are distant relatives of mine, especially since I have been told that I have some, ahem, royal blood (mostly peasant blood runs through my veins!) I could be just wishing this relation to be true. As sad as it is, I don't know enough about my own history. What I have are fragmented stories and memories of my childhood, which I have pieced together and mythologized into some grand African adventure. To be honest, I am really only drawn to the portraits of two men wrapped in sheaths of cotton with their unreal hair structures. The fact that they originate from whence I come is just added bonus.

(the photographer is unknown to me, probably some nameless anthropologist's assistant)

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2011-04-26T19:14:00.018-05:00

_(photographer)

ALEC SOTH

One thing I came to believe by the end of architecture school is that space is all wrapped up in perception. When two people face each other, they are indeed engaged in an architectural instance; the bodies define the boundaries, no walls or roof, just by pure poetry. Architecture without architecture, in a sense. How about a grassy field with an armchair (with a chicken) or a discarded bed frame? Is that architectural? Because these objects are traditionally intended for enclosed spaces, I personally see rooms in the two images by Soth. Soth! It is hard for me to talk about Alec Soth. Even though my favorite section about my own blog is the work of great photographers (or photographs of time* which is how I label the section), I haven't let myself post his work. I might as well be talking about my mother or my significant other; that is how personal my affinity to the photographer feels. Soth is from Minnesota and is still based here, in my own Saint Paul. That is largely why he is appealing to me. I am not from around here but I have lived here long enough that I often see the world as a Midwesterner. Maybe it is that sensibility, whether it is conscious or not, that resonates with me. I chose to show Soth's images of rooms, both imagined and real, even though he does fantastic portraiture as well. Head over to his website and spend lots of time taking in the genius of Alec Soth. How generous is he to share so much? It's not easy to come across a large digital portfolio for a artist of his caliber and fame.

ps. MONDOBLOGO posted some photographs by the great William Eggleston, who, incidentally, is one of Soth's mentors.

*The name photographs of time is borrowed from Fistful of Love, my favorite song by Antony and the Johnsons.

I picked up an inexpensive, SIGNED copy of the image above at the Walker Art Center shop.

(all images taken from Alec Soth's website)

2011-04-23T21:56:00.018-05:00

_(magazine)

APARTAMENTO

Someone, somewhere, made a mistake. To my benefit. I never, EVER get my apartamento magazine early. By the time it makes it to my own little Minnesotan apartamento, I feel as though I have already read the magazine because it has been plastered and re-plastered all over the interwebs. But, yesterday, there was the package on my door step. Oh, happiness! I haven't even seen this cover before. I was so stoked, I put it on top of my current reads. Just to illustrate how long it takes to get my hands on my favorite magazines, I received The Gentlewoman the same day. This issue has been out like forever. I am not complaining, though. Knowing that I live on the edge of the cool world, I have patience for these beautiful papers. On a related note, it is no mystery that I love paper so much; in fact I have been researching paper arts——not to be confused with crafts——. With projects in mind, I have been practicing my paper folding/crushing/shredding.

2011-04-17T10:30:00.057-05:00

_(je veux)

SPRING
SHOES

(Vena Cava by way of
Opening Ceremory)

2011-04-17T00:53:00.002-05:00

_(photographer)

ROBERT

POLIDORI

I hesitate to talk about this photograph. To decontextualize it and just take it at face value would, I admit, show my ignorance in whatever cultural circumstances produced the moment here captured. The photograph does, however, stand alone for a couple reasons: Polidori is best known for photographing buildings (often without a single person in sight) which makes this portrait an oddity in the photographer's work. Polidori also alludes to knowing little about the instance by captioning it this way: “This boy was all by himself, I didn’t notice any one else with that face paint. Just a curious thing, but I think it’s an amazing image.” And that is exactly why I love it. It is as vague as it is potent. The young Yemeni boy seems to materialize out of the dust of his surroundings with that ingenious composition of clothes. Talk about denim on denim. To that, add stripes, florals and turbans. It is as though the boy is making a mockery of things I love, at the same time inspiring me on a deep, deep level. And about that blackface, I am going to go on a limb here and guess that his has nothing to do with what is historically associated with blackface in the Western hemisphere. Just a curious thing.

(first seen at Heading East)

2011-04-10T18:38:00.001-05:00

_(clothing)

MAXI

Last summer I gave maxi lengths a sincere try. I found one skirt at the great Animal Ark thrift store in Saint Paul where in a subsequent trip I also found a boys' Duluth Trading Co. jacket ——the jacket that almost got me a job at JCrew Corporate after it received a direct compliment from none other than Mickey Drexler. I said almost. It was a 6 dollar jacket after all; it couldn't possibly have pulled off such a task as to land me a job, but it did get me a free trip to New York, so thank you jacket and Animal Ark——. The maxi skirt in question, which incidentally goes well with the jacket, was by all appearances unappealing at the very least. The store had a whole slew of them, in the same color, forgotten in one corner. This led me to wonder if the entire collection had been donated because no one wanted the damn skirt. I fell in love with the poor thing right away. It was simple, light and very long. This spring/summer I am going to great lengths, again.

(dress from Maryam Nassir Zadeh)

2011-03-30T13:02:00.000-05:00

_(photographer, wife)

JOANN VERBURG / JIM MOORE (model, husband, poet)

portrait

You want me lying down and I, too, love the unbuckling,

the slow lowering, alone, onto the old green couch, eyes now

barely open. The camera stands stiffly on its tripod,

a kind of disciple in need of focusing from

someone like you who fusses over sleepers and serves

the world by preserving loss, one image at a time.

At first I track you as you move above my body.
Stretched out near sleep, I am the helpless universe you need,

someone about to lose himself to dreams, to disappear

beyond any purpose or hope a waking world can solve.

Alert and intense, you hover above me.

Meanwhile, I fall asleep. For me, it’s just another nap.

This time I’m gone longer than usual. When I wake

you’ve moved the gladioli behind my pillowed head.

Arms crossed over my chest, I feel refreshed and calm,

as if, waking at my own funeral, I find that death is simple,

not like life at all. I lie still and wait for you to finish.

It’s love that lets me trust you with my sleep, arrange my death.

Death brings out the best in me. These portraits help me see the soul

I might have been, set free from useless fears. I see a man

I forgot I knew, someone subsumed by stillness without

regret. I wake to see myself as you do, a calm one

at rest, a little dazed, still posing from his sleep, as if

first comes the letting go of life; and only then, the wakefulness.

Poem taken from Photography Changes How We Perceive Ourselves, written by Jim Moore, the subject in these images. Moore has been Verburg's model for at least 25 years. The images were snapped from JoAnn Verburg's book, Present Tense.

2011-03-27T20:44:00.002-05:00

_(animal)

BOWERBIRDS

FOR SPRING

2011

source.......

I will be the first to admit that I know little about nature, even though publicly admitting so will occasionally incite the "But you are African and you grew up in Africa." To this, I generally try to indulge the person's ignorance by saying that "Having lived in a tree and worn nothing but banana leaf loin cloths did not guarantee me any expertise on nature, I am afraid" and then I want to add "You've always lived in built structures, so teach me all about Architecture," but I digress. As I was saying, I know little of the natural world. On the other hand, I am fascinated with the strange and nature has plenty of it. Combine that with references to aesthetics and you have my full attention. Imagine my excitement when I first heard about designing birds: the bowerbirds. Do you know about these Australo-new-guinean beauties? Evidently, bowerbirds are most known for their unique courtship behavior, where males build a structure [a bower] and decorate it with sticks and brightly colored objects in an attempt to attract a mate.* Say wha?!

source.......

The males will hunt for objects ——flowers, feathers, stones, berries, plastic items, what have you—— and spend a lot of time meticulously arranging them in the "front yard" of their already glorious edifice of sticks. They borrow the color palette from their own plumage to heighten their desirability to the ladies. Accordingly, there are variations in these displays depending on the species. I am mostly attracted to the work of the Satin Bowerbird ——what a lovely name—— and their choice of that electric blue.

That electric blue is SO NOW! We're shifting from nature talk into clothes talk; stay with me. When the economy went downward few years ago, we were told that fashion responded to the times by ditching the glam and cloaking itself in stylish humility. We saw less skin as the hemlines dropped and the love of voluminous comfort continued. Most importantly, however, it's the colors that took the biggest hit. Everything was washed out, lest those who care about these things be seen as impervious to tough times. Grey, camel, white, light blue and other colors of the demure sort reigned supreme. That was what, two years ago? The economy hasn't improved that much since but fashion recently took a 180 on itself. It's now color therapy, if you will. Two different reactions to the same situation. The first acknowledges and respects, the second rebels or, I suppose, moves on by accepting the unchanging situation as just another fact of life. Maybe this color love affair is that return to normal, frivolous times I was talking about in the last post. I don't know where the world will be two years from now, economically or fashion wise, but I know the bowerbirds will still be using design and color to try to have sex with each other, like they have for eons. They win.

source.......

jil sander / style.com.......

*Learn more about bowerbirds from reliable wiki........

2011-03-25T22:32:00.000-05:00

_(je veux)

ANVE

LEATHER

BAG, iko iko

(link)

Back into the usual, frivolous wanting of things, after many days thinking the world is ablaze and what the hell am I doing, blogging about what seems to be ultimately insignificant in the grand scheme of things. That said, the world will unfortunately always have its catastrophe after catastrophe but eventually, hopefully, normalcy ——in some version of its former self—— should find its way back into life. In a sense, I almost believe it's my obligation to the world to continue with my frivolous ways. After all, harmless frivolity is a sign of normal times. Easy times. I say all this to justify a post about a leather bag ——that brilliantly borrows its shape from an ordinary brown paper bag—— because I often entertain the thought that there are lot of people reading this, people who are keeping tabs on me. It's a silly thought since I know for a fact that my visual antics entertain mostly just myself and a few others. I still find it necessary to question myself. Once I press that "post" button, the eyes of whom my ramblings fall upon are really left to the internets' whims. I seek to keep my grace at all times, however much of it I might possess. (this sounds self-helpy but I going to stick with it, damnit.)

2011-03-18T01:36:00.000-05:00

_(places)

JAPAN

There are more important things in life.

give give give give

photograph by Emily Shur.

2011-03-17T02:53:00.001-05:00

_(styling)
STEVIE
MAGIC

with SARA BISCHOFF
photographed by DANIEL CORDELL

Last weekend, Sara joined Vampire Hands for The Fleetwood Magic: A Tribute to the Mac night; she braved that stage ——pretty much unknown territory—— and in that unassuming voice of hers surprised everyone with her spectacular rendition of Stevie Nicks. Sara fucking killed. She and Molly, the other lovely addition to the group, shared the Stevie role and what those two ladies gave the crowd, and what a crowd we were, was indeed magic. I cried like a friend bear, I was so proud.

Only a true devotee of Stevie could pull off such a performance so gracefully. In the years I have known Sara, Stevie has often been a central figure in our conversations. The admiration is so sincere and complete that after listening to Sara talk about her heroine, all the while listening to all those Fleetwood Mac tapes ——real tapes—— , she turned even a skeptic like myself into a fan.

In anticipation of the show, Sara and I played dress-up earlier that week. The clothes were, in essence, derived from Stevie and her sense of style ——essence was the main operative word—— It was our understanding all along that our experiment would not be a literal iteration of our subject's choice of dress. It would be too much of a gimmick because, arguably, Stevie already hinges on the edge of being costume-y, even though she sees her own look as a uniform, which is understandable (the woman hasn't changed her look in decades; that is truly what a uniform is by definition.) Instead, we deconstructed Stevie into concepts; we really took liberties with this one. Mostly referencing the image shown directly below, we focused on the following:

blackness, coveredness. Other concepts we played with include movement of clothes, witchy vibes, naughtiness.

movement is briefly shown in the first image, coveredness is everywhere except it is challenged with naughtiness which happened by just having Sara take off her pants, boom! This reminds me of something I recently read in British Vogue on Miuccia Prada. At one point in the feature she says "Yes, I like naughtiness... What's strange is that those gossip magazines explore only one kind of sexiness, when there are so many more interesting kinds." I like that sentiment. Going into this I actually was inspired by Prada's fall 2008 collection. It was full of black lace, which I am sure would have made Stevie Nicks quite happy, if she was into modern ugliness like I am (another thing Ms. Prada touched on... "If I have anything, what I probably changed deeply was making ugly cool" Yes, indeed.)

Our playtime session was captured into photographs by Daniel Cordell of Buck Young Americans, and of course modeled by none other than Sara... my dear friend Sara Bischoff of GOLD AND BRAID and Dylan, her dog.

clothes and shoes : thrifted material j.crew rachel comey via spiga oak

2011-03-08T21:13:00.001-06:00

_(object

+ studio)

I'M TOO SAD

TO SEPARATE CUPS

/ JOON&JUNG

(link)

I have been following the work of these two designers for a little while. So inspired by their design disposition, I long to make objects again. "Our abstract level of design initiation is simply human based. We both not only like adorable shape of design, but story base design from everyday." I, too, like adorable shape of design. smileyface. It is through their blog that I found the Victor Hunt videos. The one about their work is certainly my favorite.

(The cups were in part influenced by the I'm Too Sad to Tell You piece by artist Bas Jan Ader.)

2011-03-08T20:05:00.000-06:00

_(object)

BALLOON
BOWLS

/ MAARTEN

DE CEULAER

(link)

About the maker: His designs are mostly based on one strong, simple and pure concept. With his objects he tries to bring comfort, beauty and enjoyment in people’s lives. He wants to surprise, create emotions, or give a subtle wink. He questions the world around him, and translates his answers in objects. Poetry, humour and the communication of ideas are very important aspects of his designs. But conceptual as they may start, he wants his designs to be more then just whimsy thoughts or clever but unusable ideas. A good concept in a good product is what he hopes to achieve. Please watch this video for a glimpse into how these beauties came to be.

2011-03-04T17:17:00.000-06:00

_(garçon

manqué)

GRACE

CODDINGTON

As captured by Yara De Nicola for Self Service magazine

2011-02-21T17:42:00.001-06:00

_(designer,
illustrator,
futurist,
enfant
terrible)
BRUNO

MUNARI

A room, a chair, paper ——stacks of it——, even clothes and some radical shoes. And a nap. These perfectly grainy images have a lot of the things I find interesting. Maybe, a cup of coffee somewhere would make it all perfecter but perfect is just enough. In this exercise ——I would even call it performance——, the Italian designer engages in what has been described as "a playful commentary on the polished and impersonal modernistic design of the fifties."

(discovered at WE FIND WILDNESS

but it appears the post disappeared,

for what reason, I don't know)

2011-02-19T17:35:00.001-06:00

_(magazine)

POP'AFRICANA

(images from Dazed Digital)

2011-02-04T21:15:00.001-06:00

_(editorial)

ATELIER
AFRIQUE
in ACNE
PAPER

The things I will do for a magazine. Today I drove for several miles to the one place that has a decent ——albeit very, very limited—— magazine selection: The Walker. (Am I missing something here? Is there any other shop that carries good magazines in these Twin Cities of ours?) I went with the sole intention of picking up the last remaining copy of the latest Acne Paper, the one entirely dedicated to artists studios, Yes!. It was well worth the hour and a half I wasted in rush hour traffic. I am particularly partial to the Atelier Afrique feature. Unglossy, unpretty kind of awesome, these images make you think. Photographed by Andrea Spotorno and styled Mattias Karlsson. Whoever they are, I want to be friends with them.

(more)

2011-01-27T20:31:00.000-06:00

_(photographer)

TEREZA VLCKOVA

2011-01-26T12:30:00.000-06:00

_(song)

HYPERNUIT /

BERTRAND

BELIN

The internets ate most of the songs I put on here. It'll teach me not to use "free" websites to store mystuff (uh oh... photobucket, blogger? what's going to happen to you guys?) When the site in question decided to sell out to evil facebook, with it went my little collection of tunes. I have been sadfaced ever since. Now, I am looking to relink everything because, even though I haven't shared songs in a long time, I like to think that they are an important part of what this space is all about.

Anyway, I am in love. Deep in love with Bertrand Belin's music. I think of him as the French parallel to my other love, Bill Callahan. Callahan isn't as sensuel —that's a French thing anyway, non?—, but what both men seem to have is a certain resignation about the world and they resort to their musical genius to let it go. It's very beautiful but deceptively so. It's dark and perhaps even adult and I love it.

(listen to my Callahan HERE and HERE)

2011-01-08T19:07:00.000-06:00

_(photographer)

MIKE BRODIE

A long time ago (time only relevant to the existence of this blog, so I mean about a year and a half ago), I saw photographs by Mike Brodie. I loved them so I put some here. I trusted that the photographs would be forever, but nothing is really forever in the ether of the interwebs. The links are now gone and the post is without the photographs. I decided to revisit the work, once again.

These portraits are truly some of my favorites, largely because they remind me of the time I lived in Fargo, North Dakota. That was ten years ago and all things American were still very new to me. The portraits remind me of a dear friend, Castle Danger (his given name). For a while, he and I did everything and nothing together. ___Castle introduced me to a lot music. The Neutral Milk Hotel, Nina Simone, Leonard Cohen, Fugazi. Castle also bound his own poetry in beautiful booklets. I still have the ones he gave me___ One Fall, he went to see some friends who had "taken" the train from the Western parts of the country to Fargo for seasonal work at the beet harvest. I went along. A lot of these friends looked like the people in these portraits. Back then, it was quite a sight for a little African like myself. I was definitely out of place but I liked the strangeness. These days, I often find myself in the same out-of-placeness. Like last night at the Skoal Kodiak show. I found myself among kids who remind me of these portraits and Castle.

2011-01-03T19:13:00.001-06:00

_(object)

BLACKCREEK

MERCANTILE

& TRADING, CO.

(link)

I try to force myself not to share stuff I just came across. I have done it but I am trying to give myself time, to let things stew in my head for a bit, look into it further. After a few days if the novelty has already worn off then I know it's not worth it. But if the feeling lingers, then I share whatever it is. But this was not the case, sometimes certain things are so empirically good that there's no question that that good feeling won't stay. I saw these today, inspired to look into it from The Scout. I couldn't resist. These objects are too beautiful.

2010-12-28T01:23:00.000-06:00

_(photographer)

HECTOR

MEDIAVILLA

The Congolese Sape

"Sapeurs adhere to a subculture of high fashion,

often against a backdrop of extreme poverty."

A great series of photographs on an interesting phenomenon. In a rather hyperbolic way, these images touch on the two subjects that interest me the most (for the blog, specifically): how we dress and where we live. These well-dressed men, the "sapeurs", are quite impressive at first impression, exactly because of the stark contrast of their sartorial sense against the world around them. (I should know, I spent my childhood in that world) But then you read something like this, and you know what it takes to keep up le sape and...poof! the thing that makes all of it magical is somewhat lost.

2010-12-27T00:43:00.000-06:00

_(travels)

CHRISTMAS

IN TORONTO

Nothing but pure decadence, à la Française en plus.

I never remember to take photographs of anything. (Perhaps because I am no photographer and I respect the medium too much to attempt even a casual shot.) I managed to take a few, really bad photos of the Christmas Eve's after-meal. The actual Christmas Day or the other days I am spending here? Nada. Zilch. Rien. I have nothing to show for it. But it is, as always, a great time. I wish similar fun times for everyone.

2010-12-15T01:02:00.000-06:00

_(photographer)

FRANCESCA

WOODMAN

google image link

2010-12-13T19:58:00.001-06:00

_(je veux)
SURFACE TO AIR
SHAWL COAT

Image taken from Surface to Air's store.

First seen here.

2010-12-10T22:55:00.000-06:00

_(spaces)

MODERNITY

without THE

MODERN

Let's not kid ourselves, kids. It takes lots of money to really live a contemporary life surrounded with modern, sleek things. Those who have that kind of money either botch modernity with their general bad taste or if they actually know what they're doing and the rectalinear is their thing, sometimes the result can be one cold, concrete -pun intended- reality. (as wonderfully satirized by the hilarious Unhappy Hipsters.) For the rest us, there are bandages. IKEA comes to mind. But if you're like me, you buy the products but often you are left with a cheap feeling. No? Maybe it's just me. It is possible to be modern without any of the usual fixings. With very ordinary, unsleek objects. It's all in their arrangement. The styling, if you will. Will you? One thing remains true for me: WHITE WALLS! (as beautifully shown here)

Then again, maybe I am confusing modernity with minimalism.

image taken from mousse magazine.

2010-12-10T20:36:00.000-06:00

_(short film)

THE MODEL
starring
SEU
JORGE

These stills are taken

from a great two-part short film

starring Brazilian musician Seu Jorge.

Seu Jorge and Almaz is his latest album, the music

from which can be heard - in gorgeous vignettes -

as part of the film's narrative. This is no music video.

And the man himself reminds us when he says:

"I don't make music videos, I make films."

Seen at NOWNESS, from a feature

on the director, Kahlil Joseph.

2010-12-06T04:33:00.000-06:00

_(photographer)

WENDY

BEVAN

I don't mean to be that person.

The one who curses the winter for being cold (and yes, it is fucking cold).

I don't care for that person because, inevitably, he/she/I will find summer to be hot.
With that disclaimer, I share these summery photographs by Wendy Bevan.

I am just forever drawn to such images. Water, sky, speckles of people.

(a quick look at earlier posts on this blog would prove me right.)

--Speaking of Summer... I just saw Summer Hours by Olivier Assayas.

If the French language doesn't do it for you as much as it does me,

then how about space, art and other artifacts and the meaning

(if any) they hold to those who are in and around them? Or the
value that time and the collective conscience add to or subtract

from them things? In any case, the film is brilliant.--

2010-11-28T19:34:00.000-06:00

_(poet +

garçon

manqué)

WISLAWA

SZYMBORSKA

2010-11-28T19:32:00.000-06:00

_(poem +
painting)

VERMEER
by WISLAWA

SZYMBORSKA

........................So long as that woman from the Rijksmuseum

.....in painted quiet and concentration

...keeps pouring milk day after day

from the pitcher to the bowl.....

the World hasn't earned............

the world's end.........................

(I love Vermeer. I love Szymborska.)

2010-11-27T19:44:00.002-06:00

_(clothes)

SOFT + TOUGH,
point final

(am I already giving up?)

I baffle myself. I have an acute ability to change my entire outlook on clothes (or any given subject, for that matter) at any moment. Just like that. All it takes is one look at one person who I feel I'd like to be. In the last few months I have seen images of amazeballs women, like Yasmin, wearing the soft and tough clothes combo. It looked so refreshing, so I was hooked. I wanted that to me my look. I am a follower. But, today at work, the prettiest girl walked in and she had black jeans with a knitted sweater under a dark coat. Some nice flat boots, too. In that moment, I wanted to be her. I think it was the proportions, the simplicity, the nonchalance, and the au courantness of her look that I loved.

I do think the soft/tough styling thing is great, but I am realizing this is a budding trend. Expect to see this soon in your upcoming U.O. catalog. I am an impressionable girl, so I get excited when I see something new. But one thing is sure, I get bored very easily so I give up quickly. I would rather do the simple clothes and I find that when everything seems transient including my own interests I gravitate more and more in that direction.

(The prettiest girl from work reminded me of this post from All The Pretty Birds. I multiplied the image to better illustrate the fact that I like it!)

2010-11-22T15:37:00.001-06:00

_(space)
ROMAN &
WILLIAMS

(from The Scout)

I could just listen to the words and sounds of this video
and it would still be as incredible as it is with the images.
I am forever envious of people who can talk so well about
their work, especially when their work is guided more so
by intuition and a sweet, practical sense of curiosity.

2010-11-15T12:07:00.005-06:00

_(clothes)
SOFT + TOUGH

There is a shift in how I view clothes lately. I still love dressing like a boy. Half of my wardrobe is basically borrowed from my boyfriend's. I don't feel right if I don't wear one of his shirts or sweaters. But now, I feel the urge to add something super soft. For example, a skirt or a dress that freely flows against the solid anchor of the manly pieces.

Yasmin Sewell does it best.

2010-11-15T11:28:00.001-06:00

_(book)
JUST KIDS /
PATTY SMITH

"We were just ourselves that day, without a care. It was our good fortune that this moment in time was frozen in a box camera. It was our first real New York portrait. Who we were. Only weeks before we had been at the bottom, but our blue star, as Robert called it, was rising."

2010-11-10T20:12:00.002-06:00

_(design studio)
ROLU

It is true that the different, weird, creative kid will most likely have the urge
to leave his small world and want to go where he will not be considered as such.
Different and weird. And many such a kid do leave and go looking for bigger worlds.

It takes real guts, as they say, to stay put in that small world --I guess I am here arguing
that Minneapolis/St Paul is a small world-- and successfully do what it is that makes
a kid different. That is the case for the "kids" at RO/LU, the Minneapolis
based studio of modern landscapers, well-researched bloggers, and now
furniture designers. Honestly, I think at the moment these kids
are holding the torch of all young and true "modernists"
living in this small world.

Images from 01magazine. Update: read the recently added interview with RO/LU's Matt Olson

Here are some "grad-school-y" words
that have been used to define the new line:

"ROLU’s new furniture line blends a disparate range
of formal and constructive ‘cousins’ through the material
immediacy and angular rigor of brutalism, arriving at a
collection at once heart-on-sleeve reverential and harshly,
honestly literal."

um, okay. That is exactly what I was thinking.

2010-11-02T01:08:00.001-05:00

_(photograher)
DAVID
BLACK

(link)

2010-10-28T13:42:00.001-05:00

_(magazine)
SELF SERVICE

All these are copied from the THE NOW section of the magazine's blog.
When looking at photos, I normally think the bigger the images
the better. I pretend that they're all landscapes, and I get
to explore them using my very own Ken Burns effect.

Self Service blog prefers to deliver its images in teasing
small dimensions. But I quite love them. -The styling,
the photography- It's all very excellent. I have yet
to see the actual magazine, but if these are
any indication, it's right up my alley.
A slightly anti-fashion, fashion
magazine.

2010-10-26T00:13:00.000-05:00

_(photographer)
NOA EMBERSON

From the photographer's Reaching for Imperfection series.
(The first image is intentionally flipped. I hope it's okay that I did that.)
(I just wanted the sky to touch itself. For once.)