Black interspersed

It's the third Thursday of the month: time for September's installment of the ROY G BIV photo challenge. Since we've already gone through the colors of the rainbow, you may recall (after last month's "pink") that we are exploring other colors for the rest of the year. This month it's "black."

Over the past few weeks I've been keeping an eye out for how black shows up in my day-to-day life. A few of these images digress somewhat from black (as does my writing), but that is still the point from which I began.

Black has cropped up in the studio quite a bit lately. Among the hodgepodge of my work space, the first photo (above) shows a recent purchase: a Moleskine address book, which I am using as a way to be more organized in documenting/collecting my ideas & thoughts. Day-to-day, I use a large sketchbook to record my notes & creative process (as well as the usual rescued grocery lists, backs of test prints, receipts, etc.), but since ideas can get lost/buried this way the Moleskine will serve as an index of sorts.

 

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This spring I reread several of Natalie Goldberg's books, an experience that always offers much inspiration and food for thought. (Several of the books have blue covers, and I had actually meant to photograph/discuss them for ROY G BIV's "blue" month.) In Thunder and Lightening, Natalie recalls how she discovered the writing of Wallace Stenger. She had picked up his Crossing to Safely several times, but could never bring herself to buy it. She writes:

"Penguin had done a good job with the cover, a beautiful photo of golden leaves covering the ground and some still on thick-trunked trees, a stone wall through a field——autumn at its best. And the book had good, clear print inside, made to lure a reader into sinking in. But then I'd turn to the back cover: "A grand, rich, beautifully written novel about a long, not-always-easy friendship between two couples." BORING. I imagined the smug recounting of four upper-class lives. I wasn't interested. I put it back on the shelf. This routine——picking it up, being enticed by the cover and repelled by the back——probably went on for five years."

But, finally, the right person gave her a recommendation she couldn't ignore. I figured if this book had won over Natalie Goldberg after such resistance, it must be good! And it was. I'm not one for "page-turners," and Crossing to Safety is most certainly not one. But it's just the kind of thoughtful, deep, engaging writing that I love, and I am now on my third Wallace Stegner, Angle of Repose——which has a (mainly) black cover, seen below left, at the front.

On the right is the little slate I use to make to-do lists; I can prop it up on my desk to remind myself of what I am supposed to be working on (often, not surprisingly, I do digress). The forged, black-handled scissors in the foreground are my favorites, and follow me around the house...

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Another black-covered book that's been keeping me company is Italo Calvino's Le Città Invisibili. I am using it as a punto di riferimento for my latest A Letter a Week (ALaW) project. I photocopied the English version and have arranged the brief, poem-like chapters according to the eleven themes Calvino explores in this sublime book (the themes are interspersed, but I wanted to be able to more easily consider the five stories of each theme at once). Below, on the left are the annotated photocopies; on the right are my copies of both the original Italian and the English translation. I love the cover of the translation. As some of you may know, Invisible Cities is woven around Marco Polo's recounting of his travels to Kublai Khan, but in fact all of the stories are describing Venice (and its many facets)——I love how the title alludes to this Venetian connection.

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And speaking of ALaW, the copper wire words seen on the Moleskine book in the photo at the top of the post have come about, belatedly, as a response to ALaW 2013's "peace"-themed letters. Though I worked on the project intermittently during the course of 2013, I never did commit to a direction for my alphabet. International Peace Day is coming up on 21 September, so I've been preparing a small installation in honor of the day, inspired by the work I did for ALaW. Incidentally, the wire words have turned out to be more of an "exercise" for the final piece, as I took yet another direction in the last few weeks——or more like returned to an earlier idea. But I liked how the words caught the light as they recede, below. (The explanation for the "x...y...z" will be forthcoming in a post dedicated to the project.)

The photo that follows it, though not black-themed, seemed to carry forward the feeling I got from the wire word one. I just love the effect of the early sun when it's beginning to warm up the roof tiles, and yesterday morning I picked up my camera to capture it (not the first September I have been inspired to do so!)...

 

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This is another photo taken upon waking yesterday——such an intense light next to such a strong shadow...

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And this pair came about on different days last month, when the late summer light helped to create such rich contrasts.

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And this final image shows the last light glancing on Borgo La Croce, as the shadows begin to deepen...

 

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The kids went back to school this week and though summer is not officially over, the mood is definitely autumnal. I have been reminded many times lately of how beautifully the month of September frames Florence. There's also the nostalgia factor...my first visit to Florence was eighteen Septembers ago, and it happens to be the month we moved here as well (September 2nd marked ten years). While I sometimes think that ten years is a good, long, time, and that maybe——just maybe——I might "be able" to live somewhere else, I realize that I actually love living here more and more as the years pass. Even after being in Florence for ten years, I don't think a day goes by that I don't feel grateful that this is where I am...
 

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{The ROY G BIV photo challenge was created by artists Jennifer Coyne
Qudeen & Julie Booth. Each month is devoted to a different color,
and all are welcome to join in the search. Guidelines are here.}

Countless cubes: How "Mise en place" came to be

In trying to summarize piles and pages of notes for my BookArtObject project, Mise en place,  I have been asking myself "where hasn't it been?" in the two+ years since I chose my title. I mean this conceptually, theme-wise and media-wise.

There have been "countless cubes" over the last couple of years, both for this project and others that popped up along the way. The photo above shows a selection of mockups, mostly from the later stages; the row of four cubes at the front comprises a full set. And here, at last, are some notes on this whole process, beginning with why I chose "Mise en place" as my title...

Most of the one-hundred titles had already been taken by the time I discovered Edition 4 of BookArtObject (BAO), but "Mise en place" was an easy choice for me. I am fascinated by the role that food——and, in the context of my title, its preparation——plays in our daily lives, and in the last several years it seems the line between the studio and the kitchen has begun to blur for me. The kitchen can be such a creative space when you consider how many variations you can get from even the most basic set of ingredients simply by varying which herbs, spices and other enhancements you pair them with. And I enjoy the challenge, or "game," of seeing what I can come up with based on what's on hand at any given time.

Though I once considered myself a reluctant cook (I begrudged that cooking took me out of the studio and consumed so much time/had to be repeated day in, day out), I've come to see the appeal——its immediacy/spontaneity, for one. In the studio, the work is often so painstakingly precise. There’s a lot of experimentation, which is accompanied by an equal measure of anxiety, because taking an idea from concept to completion is not usually a smooth process. In the kitchen, though, I don’t worry about whether a new soup, a spur-of-the-moment pasta sauce or my favorite pork roast will come out okay; it just about always does (and is quickly forgotten on the odd occasion that it does not). I find a certain satisfaction in organizing the ingredients, as well as doing the repetitive tasks entailed in mise en place——and the "presentation" of the completed mise en place can be as visually pleasing as the presentation of the meal itself. I like, too, that getting everything in place first allows me more freedom during the actual cooking part; the hands are busy, but somehow the mind is freer. Many a studio dilemma has been solved while chopping onions...

Just as in the studio, I have my favorite kitchen "tools" (a flat-ended wooden "spoon," the marble mortar & pestle, a rubber spatula, the rollicking mezzaluna). I also take pleasure from my collection of containers——curvy white porcelain cups that are perfect for mise en place, a large yellow ceramic bowl I use for hand-mixing, a set of laboratory-inspired glass measuring containers. I believe that material, shape, size and color affect——and have the potential to enhance——experiences, and am always conscious of such qualities. I am the kind of person who would, for example, rather pour tonic water from a tiny glass bottle than a liter-sized plastic one (into a short glass the same shade as the rind of the sliver of lime!).

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Many of the actions that take place in the studio parallel those involved in mise en place, so my initial thought was to make comparisons between the studio and the kitchen. I considered a book with left-hand pages devoted to mise en place in the kitchen, with right-hand pages portraying similar actions in the studio (choosing ingredients versus choosing materials; organizing kitchen tools & equipment versus those for a studio project; measuring & cutting things to size). I collected bits and pieces with the idea creating a series of collages to portray the commonalities between work in the studio and kitchen; I played with abstract designs that derived from the creative process that occurs in both spaces; and I spent a lot of time photographing ingredients, crockery and other kitchen accoutrement.

As I went about exploring these and other ideas in the studio, I made a point of paying attention to what happened each time I went into the kitchen: I noticed the thoughts that floated through my head as I was preparing meals, the aesthetics of the experience——how the process engaged my senses.

I examined blossom-like artichokes and leathery pomegranates, heavy in my hand...noted the clinking of the shiny stainless steel bowls, cool to the touch...appreciated the reflections and light captured by the glass measuring containers. I breathed in the delicious smells when zesting an orange or grinding a handful of cardamom seeds with the mortar and pestle, discovered the star-shape that appeared when slicing an apple through its middle (then succumbed to the nostalgia for those back-to-school days of every childhood autumn while grating it for apple cake). I noticed how the tears that fell when slicing an onion refreshed my skin...listened to the rhythmic chop, chop, chop, then the sizzle, when I slipped them into the warm olive oil, enjoying how they instantly filled the house with that welcoming and familiar "nearly-dinner-time" feeling.

As I took time to appreciate the qualities of the ingredients, tools & containers, the content for my BAO title began to reflect my direct experience of doing the mise en place for our meals, and I found a new enthusiasm for spending time in the kitchen. Once I decided my artist's book would be primarily kitchen-based, I played with different ways to convey the concept of mise en place: taking the reader through the mise en place for a recipe step-by-step...writing a text about a specific kitchen experience...creating original designs/patterns printed with ingredients/items from the kitchen.

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Ideas came and went, but Mise en place found its form fairly early in the process: four gradated cubes, ranging from 5x5x5 to 8x8x8 cm (just under two-inches-cubed to a bit over three-inches-cubed), which could "nest" within each other. The nesting idea was of course borrowed from the ubiquitous measuring cups, measuring spoons & sets of mise en place-type bowls that are stacked when not in use. Once I settled on the cube structure, I experimented with different nets (i.e. the organization of cube faces). These I printed onto A3 paper to serve as the basis for sketching out ideas and notes before trimming/folding them to see how they played out in three dimensions.

The imagery of "the voluptuous curves of a pear" was with me from the very beginning, as was the desire to use text creatively. When I came up with the idea to shape the text to follow the curves of a pear, everything finally started to fall in place.

Another image that I am quite fond of is the pomegranate, a fruit that has perhaps inspired more contemplation for me than any other ingredient. I love the leathery red skin, the little "crown" left behind by the blossom, the experience of removing the gem-like seeds, with their contrast of sweet and tart as they burst in my mouth. Deseeding a pomegranate must be one of the more intense mise en place tasks! From quite early on I wanted to somehow include a text about the process of extracting the seeds from a pomegranate, to explain how I consider it "a meditation of sorts——a reminder to pause and notice the beauty of everyday moments." The text wraps around the largest cube and can be read one long line at a time, by spinning the cube.

After exploring several media for conveying the content (drawing, collaging, printing from handmade stamps), I eventually gravitated toward designing on the computer. One reason was for the sake of practicality: this was my first experience creating an edition (as opposed to a one-of-a-kind piece), and being able to replicate everything seventeen times (the number I chose for my edition) was vastly simplified by being able to design and print digitally. In choosing this route I was able to avoid the scanning/reproducing step, which never seems to replicate an original painting/drawing as well as I would like. Another benefit was that computer-generated text allowed me to include more content on the relatively small "page" dimensions than hand-written text would have. I chose the streamlined Avenir Next Condensed for much of the text, and contrasted it with the more flowing, though still compact, Respective; the shaped text is Myanmar MN. The palette was inspired by the illustrations of the fruits & vegetables.

Working with Adobe Illustrator (most of the illustrations were complete by
this point, but some of the individual elements can be distinguished)...

I created the text/images in Adobe Illustrator (I must say I quite enjoy "drawing" with the "pens"), then printed the cubes with Epson UltraChrome K3 inks on Epson Radiant White Watercolor Paper. I tried many papers, of various weights and textures, but my Epson performs best with fine art papers that are coated. I needed something that could be scored & folded easily, but was sturdy enough to hold the form of a cube, and finally discovered the 192g Epson "watercolor" paper (though, oddly, the texture of the back/non-printable side is more similar to watercolor paper than the coated side).

In the spirit of the mise en place concept, I had (a bit cheekily) considered at one point simply letting each BAO recipient do the full assembly, but opted instead for fairly minimal "interaction" on their part. As I mentioned in an earlier blog post, the cubes would have arrived already trimmed & scored, and packaged in one of the papers used for wrapping oranges (in any given crate of oranges a handful will be wrapped in colorful paper printed with the name of the fruit producer &/or address &/or logo/design). In keeping with the kitchen-theme, each paper-wrapped package was then tied with a length of kitchen string.

A reminder of the packaging up of Mise en place

...and of the contents of each package once opened

I arranged the cubes such that when the package is turned over to undo the paper the largest cube is on top (recognized by the title/definition of "mise en place"). Under Cube I are Cubes II, III & IV, respectively. I folded each cube into an accordion, for its initial "reading" (see photos below), but these are easily assembled into cubes——one of the side faces has a flap with a strip of double-sided adhesive to join the tab to what becomes the adjacent side.

The top & bottom faces fold in to complete the cube; I suggested the recipients use a bit of glue on the edge of each flap to permanently close them, although if the top flap of each is left unattached the cubes can be nested. In the photo below you can see Cube III nested within Cube IV, with Cube III stacked on top of Cube IV (and earlier trials behind them).

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One thing is definitely true: I have come to enjoy and appreciate mise en place——and my time in the kitchen in general——considerably more since taking on my BAO title. And along the way, other things have become clearer to me...for example that, as much as I love the getting-my-hands-dirty kind of studio work, I have a great time designing on the computer too. I've also realized that I want to continue to pursue both my love affair with photographing food and a growing interest in experimenting with/developing recipes. These discoveries have guided me toward a couple of new long-term projects.

I am also thrilled about my growing collection of books from the other artists in my group; it’s always wonderful to see images on the web, but there is nothing like holding a piece and experiencing it with all of your senses. My thanks to all of the artists for the many months of inspiration as each book was completed and posted on the BAO blog—and to Sara Bowen, BAO's founding artist.

Shades of Venetian Rose (Pink Part II)

As you can see, the sun did come out in Venice...interesting to contrast the cooler pinks on my first day there with the photos I took on a sunnier day. While pink is not a color I am normally drawn to (unless it's as "hot" as pink can be, as in fuchsia), I do love the endless rosy shades everywhere you look in Venice. In fact, I realized on this trip that Venice wouldn't be Venice without pink!

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{P.S. I haven't made it to see everyone else's PINK yet,

but am looking forward to this month's ROY G BIV tour.}

Strawberry pink

 

Now that we've gone through the whole rainbow, ROY G BIV photo challenge founding artists Jennifer Coyne Qudeen & Julie Booth have proposed we continue with some additional colors for the remaining months of the year. August's color is pink, and there are few pink things (maybe no pink things!) I like better than a strawberry gelato. Recorded with my daughter's cell phone earlier this month (hence the not-so-great resolution), I do wish I could share a taste of the cono di gelato alla fragola. This one is from a gelateria my daughter and I discovered when we started going out to Gavinana (a suburb of Florence) to refill our contact lens prescriptions; while we usually grumble about the time-consuming bus excursion, stopping in at Il Sorriso is always a sweet note. With a perfect balance of lightness, smoothness, creaminess and flavorful-ness, Il Sorriso's  gelato definitely ranks among our top few absolute favorites.

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And on another note... Earlier this week I took the train to Venice——a place where rosy shades abound——and collected a handful of pink-inspired photos as I made my way over to the Lido (spending a few beach days here has become a tradition each summer). Unfortunately the sun barely poked through the clouds the afternoon of my arrival, so before posting the photos I will see if I find some more light-filled shots before I leave. The weather has been a very un-summer-like, so fingers crossed!
 
But for now, here is a photo from earlier in the summer, taken from the balcony of our Rockaway Beach hotel (in Oregon, USA). What a delightful spot that was, with a sunset so delicate and gentle, and which seemed to last for hours...

 

{Guidelines are here if you would like to join in the extended ROY G BIV search.}

Signed, sealed & delivered

Countless cubes and months later, my title for BookArtObject Edition #4, Mise en place, has finally been designed, printed, scored, trimmed, folded, packaged up & sent into the world.

The process of creating a finished book from that first tiny seed of an idea is always quite an undertaking. I was grateful for the loose deadline afforded by BAO; though I feel I somewhat abused it, the piece was able to take as long as it needed to find its natural conclusion.

I finished production of the BAO edition just before leaving for the US in early June, and decided I might as well send them from there since the recipients in my BAO group all live in North America. But I didn't actually manage to get them mailed until the day I flew back to Italy——too much going on, and too many people & places to see! Everyone should have received them by now, so here are some photos...

The image above shows what each artist in my group would have found once they loosened the kitchen string used to tie up the small package. (The wrapping is one of those papers encasing the odd orange here in Italy; these are always kind of special to find, so I collect them.) I also included a note written on a flat card printed with the pomegranate that appears on the first/largest little booklet-cube in the set. Via email each artist received instructions on how to assemble the accordion-folded booklets into a set of four gradated cubes ranging from 5x5x5 to 8x8x8 centimeters (just under 2" to a little over 3").

I am continuing to sort through the notes I kept during the project, so more on the process/evolution/method/media——plus photos of the cubes assembled——yet to come...

Violet in Seattle

A section of the wall in the EMP museum shop.

 

This month's edition of the ROY G BIV Challenge* was a lot of fun to photograph, and came together in a single afternoon during a recent visit to Seattle. After turning in the cute little Chevy Spark that had gotten us safely up the west coast of the US, we had a single night & day in Seattle before our red-eye to the east coast. Much of the morning disappeared in pursuit of sampling various downtown coffee shops, checking out the Pike Place Market and generally enjoying the city bustle before heading over to the Experience Music Project (EMP) museum.

While my daughter was there for the music aspect of the EMP——much of her time was spent in the practice rooms of the Sound Lab since she was missing her instruments by this point of our trip——I was especially looking forward to experiencing the architecture. And the fluid, multi-color metal surface and constantly changing reflections of the Frank Gehry-designed building did not disappoint. By the time we exited to a clear evening several hours later the center section had transformed into to more of a fuchsia color, but the effect was purple when we first entered under rain-threatening skies. Thus began my quest for VIOLET...

It wasn't hard to find. Just as the exterior of the building offered several glimpses of violet, so did the space within...lights & color joined and reflected on the metal panels that also line the interior. With its enormous screen, hi-tech sounds system and light effects, watching music videos in the Sky Church makes you feel like you could be at a concert (complete with lots of blue, red——& purple——lights; a few of the purple-y moments are shown below). In fact, I suppose you could say that (Psychedelic) Purple is pretty much ingrained in the spirit of rock 'n roll.

Umbrellas hang from the Sky Church's seventy-foot ceiling.

The sense of drama above this set of stairs (right) matched that of the Sky Church (left).

Intersecting ceiling panels/reflections

This ceiling/wall inside (left) could easily be confused with the building's exterior (right).

Another view of the intersecting ceiling elements

 

There is a general impression of letting go of a sense of time and place in this sculptural, ambiguous wonder of a building——a feeling that seems perfectly suited to the scope of the Experience Music Project. You can discover more about the EMP by following this link.

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I still have some catch-up to do with everyone's explorations of June's ROY G BIV——I can never seem to manage much time on the computer while traveling——but am excited to see both the INDIGO and VIOLET discoveries. Also, I am sorry to not have replied yet to those of you who kindly took the time to leave comments on my quick "indigo" entry, but I look forward to reading them properly and finally answering il prima possibile.

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The ROY G BIV photo challenge was created by artists Jennifer Coyne
Qudeen & Julie Booth. Each month is devoted to a different color of
the rainbow——red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo & violet——and
all are welcome to join in the search. (Guidelines are here.)