Sunday, February 28, 2010

red-orange color mixing









Tuesday, February 23, 2010

paolo ventura



about a month ago, i was gallery-hopping [how strange does that sound!] with a friend of mine in chelsea. desperate for relief from the bitter cold, we ducked into the first open door we found, which happened to be the hasted hunt kraeutler gallery. there, we were welcomed by the photograph above. while my art-going companion was less impressed with these than the ed burtynsky photographs in the back, i couldn't stop staring at the photographs, trying to understand them—their stories, their world, their fabrication! something about them seemed unreal to me, but i couldn't figure out what.





as we rounded the corner into the next space of the gallery, the uncanny feeling i got from the photographs was made clear. these are all photographs, yes—but of carefully constructed models, not of people. the focus & extreme care & attention paid to the tiniest details makes the scale seem feasible at a human size, even though the models are no larger than the average child's doll.





paolo ventura sketches these elaborate scenes [some ink & watercolor sketches were in the back area of the gallery], creates models & props, & then shoots large-scale photographs in replication of his original sketches. the world he creates is often sad & lonely: with this series in particular, there is a quiet desolation both amongst & because of the wintry carnival setting. in one particularly striking photograph [which i can't seem to find on the artist's website!], a man floats above a balcony, his body held aloft by dozens of balloons tied to his back. his shoes and arms dangle down in such a way that while this image of flight might seem joyful, it is also possible that this figure has been hanged by the very balloons that lift him up. this kind of beautiful, surreal, quiet violence is typical of ventura's work.

[& from a color standpoint, his carefully controlled palette adds to the surreality of his images.]

Sunday, February 21, 2010

the freedom eagle has landed



[a flyer / poster i made with thread & paint samples for the gigantic issue 2 release party this weekend.]

oh, & the work in progress:

proof that there is such a thing as creative destruction!

red-orange

for the color forecasting project in our color workshop class, i was given the color red-orange to work with.











red-orange is one of the few colors that is immediately clear to the mind's eye just from the name. unlike blue, or green, or purple, which can embody a great deal of variation in tint or shade or tone, red-orange is platonically bold, carrying a great deal of energy and weight of presence. it is a color of fire, of warning, of exuberance; it calls out to be noticed in any context. as such, it is rare to see red-orange dominating an area, whether a website, a canvas, a physical space, or a wardrobe. it is a color that is best used as contrast, paired [as shown above] with muted blues or greens, or even with monotone greys.

i was at first surprised and cautious of this color when it was assigned. my personal color palette tends towards blues and greys and browns and golds; i have always preferred deeper colors to the highly saturated brights. red-orange seemed contrary to my sense of color—that is, until i started seeing it more & more. i find that it's a cheerful color, able to break up the muted dullness of greys and slate blues with only a tiny area of application. especially in the middle of winter, a little bit of red-orange can serve as a memory of summer or a reminder that spring is on the way: a small glimmer of hope in a time dominated by cloud and darkness.

perhaps this is a good way to start thinking about this color in terms of forecasting. our world today is full of insecurity and tenuousness. we no longer are sure of our footing in anything. we cling to patterns, shades, and relics of eras past—the bygone days of mad men, the glam & lux 80s—but in 2010, we have yet to define a true sense of style for our era. it seems possible to me that this bold, bright, energetic color with its own form of leadership could bring us closer to a firm sense of something—whatever that something may be.

Saturday, February 20, 2010

process post - backlog ii







[this last was part of a project on l'archeometre, about which more can be found in this pdf.]

process post - backlog











Thursday, February 18, 2010

split complemetary









Monday, February 8, 2010

analogous colors, mark ii

still thinking about this!

i keep a private photo-journal, & upon a quick perusal, i realized i have more analogous-colored photos than i'd thought.


[o|y|g]


[o|y|g]


[r|o|y]


admittedly, i couldn't find too many more than these three in my not insubstantial journal. perhaps this will change now that i'm re-tuning my eyes to see these things!

analogous colors

as part of this week's color workshop assignment, i've been trying to be more aware of color schemes & arrangements. i've found this a little more difficult than i'd imagined—i've noticed that i'm much more sensitive to light & dark & contrast rather than color specifically. the emphasis this week on analogous color schemes is particularly difficult, as these tend to be harmonious, & i am far more attracted to some kind of dynamism, whether from opposing colors or just slightly more contrast than analogous colors offer.

i've been eyeing a lot of prints from 20x200, & decided to go through the art on the site with particular attention to color, especially in the pieces i was attracted to initially.


eivind, by michelle arcila

analogous [y|yg|g|c]


collocation no. 14 (nature), right panel, by mickey smith

analogous [o|y|g]


i'm not mad, by kotama bouabane

analogous [yo|y|yg|g]


in the ballpark, by tatsuro kiuchi

analogous [y|yg|g]


these three fit the analogous color scheme assignment, but [with the exception of tatsuro kiuchi's, which has red in the composition as well] i was not considering purchasing any of them. i'm much more drawn to the contrast of these, however:


untitled #17, by matthew tischler



norristown, pennsylvania, by justin james reed



kind intruder, by michelle arcila


[that last one goes full-size because it's so stunning!]

book design: the deckle edge


deckle-edges
Originally uploaded by aesop


i've been thinking a bit about making a book for the typography class i'm taking [&, you know, also about bookmaking in general, as i am wont to do], & i got really excited when i came across this article about deckle edge.

if you read books—physical object books—you may have encountered some that have ragged, unfinished page edges that look almost as if they have been torn by hand. this is known as a deckle-edge page. my beloved copies of fagles' translations of homer's iliad & odyssey [published by penguin] both are produced with deckle-edge pages, & while it gives them a worn, "old-timey" look, it also makes them far more difficult to operate as books: instead of thumbing through easily to the next page, i often found my fingers getting stuck on the ragged edge of the page, not turning quickly enough or going through too many pages at once.

from the article:
The deckle edge dates back to a time when you used to need a knife to read a book. Those rough edges simulate the look of pages that have been sliced open by the reader. The printing happened on large sheets of paper which were then folded into rectangles the size of the finished pages and bound. The reader then sliced open the folds.
...
Perhaps this deckle edge is a way for publishers to prepare for the inevitable. As ebooks and ereaders contrive to make the reading process as simple as pushing a button, physical books will regress to older and older forms, so as to appeal more to the antiquated among us who still prefer them to their digital doppelgangers. Deckle-edges will prevail, uncut pages will re-emerge, embossing will become more elaborate.

this is what i have been saying for years now about books. just as music has split between the easily-consumable intangible [the mp3] & the art object [the deluxe lp edition], i feel books too will fall into a similar path, where value is placed in one instance on content & in another on form.

the act of cutting into a printed book in order to read the pages proves a level of intimacy with the book that i absolutely love. it's engaging, it's interactive, & it's personal in a way that books [even if you don't cut into them anymore] really are. i'm already brainstorming ways i can incorporate that into my own work! but that said, i hope the deckle edge doesn't become standard for book objects, especially mass-produced ones. i think my copies of homer are the last published books i encountered with a deckle edge—& for the sake of readability, i kind of hope it stays that way.

Saturday, February 6, 2010

found functions



i'm kind of in love with nikki graziano's found functions. using her own photographs of things she sees in the world around her [trees; clouds; mountains; sand; shadows; etc], she finds & overlays mathematical functions that describe the organic shapes in the images.

if you saw the first image above, you already understand what she is doing.



these are fascinating to me because they are not only beautiful photographs, with a careful eye for light, composition, color, & mood; nor are they only a geeky mathematical exploration of the natural world. the functions themselves are presented so serenely & harmoniously with the photography that they become more than cold calculations. they inform & are informed by the natural beauty they overlay—after all, don't math & science both set out to help us understand our world & the way it works?

i keep going through this set over & over again, & each time i'm struck by how the colors & light of the photographs draw me in & make me respond emotionally to the mathematical graphs. despite taking calculus in college, & doing pretty well in it, too, i am very much not a 'math person', & if presented with graphs like these on their own, i might be liable to have a meltdown, remembering nightmares of high-school pre-calculus. these works, on the other hand, encourage me to engage with math in a way i hadn't ever really thought about before. [maybe there's a textbook idea in here somewhere.]

Friday, February 5, 2010

interactive typography

i've been thinking a lot lately about interactivity with type or text [like this is a new thought!]—partly because i'm taking a typography class in which we're working with expressive typography, but also partly because i'm interested in seeing what can be done with interactivity.



i came across the book of sand recently, though it's not a recent site, & it got the wheels turning again. the site is an interactive telling of the book of sand by jorge luis borges. as reader, you control the speed of the story—not with your reading speed, but with the placement of sand at the bottom of the page. as the words fly in from right to left [giving the reader the impression of reading naturally, from left to right], they glide over the peaks of the sand, rising and falling with them. if the reader places too much sand on the left, the text stops moving until the slope has been re-established.

my first reaction to this was one of wonder: how does it work? what happens if i click here? can i get it to go backwards? [the answer to that last is, sadly, no.] after a short while of playing with the sand, i began to lose interest, & bookmarked the site for later use.

what never once got through to me was the actual story being told.

even now, writing this, i am ashamed to say i have no idea what the book of sand is about, having never read it before. while this method of telling the story may enhance the reader's experience, & may be related to the text of the story, it ultimately serves as a distraction from the story rather than an enhancement of it.

i'm not dismayed. i think there is still a great deal of potential for a reading experience that enhances the text rather than distracts from it. but this level of interactivity—turning the story itself into a kind of game, a backdrop for a more prominent & more important user experience—is not the way to go.

[but it was fun.]

Thursday, February 4, 2010

compact color

at the intersection of color & tetris:









[works by michael johansson via but does it float]

la tierra desde el cielo


la Tierra desde el cielo
Originally uploaded by titienjen
love the colors on this.

seems particularly appropriate given our recent studies of analogous color schemes!