click image to enlarge
Content Web site design -- as www.2x4.org -- have not gone unnoticed among designers (first pointed out to me by my friend/colleague Abby Goldstein), but so far, seem to be been seen as just a web-based gimmick, not real "design." As you might surmise from the side-by-side screen caps above, 2x4, appears as text, then opens to reveal content in the form of text and images. All very semantic, no Flash, just good "old-fashioned" text/Javascript.
I am not proclaiming this as non-design, but it springs from a different well than traditional "web design."
When I first began looking at the web in 1994, like most, I filled my pages with links built with little icons, and images -- and this method of navigation has persisted to this day, reaching its awful zenith in sites like www.cnn.com, so busy you can barely find the content, in the clutter.
Print designers keep attempting to re-purpose book/magazine design to somehow organize the jumble, but frankly, even on the best sites, like the NY Times, it is not totally successful (close though, by my eyes, since it uses a browsing-based layout).
Web design can [should?] find its roots and inspiration in web function, rather than from print. Not that I want to return to - every page looking like Jacob Nielson non-designed it. But I am seeking an understanding of logical design based on function.
It is a battle not easily won. Talk of blog-design, removing traditional navigation, using browsing rather than searching, limiting the number of images to essential (as in traditional book publication) do not meet with enthusiastic understanding. But I am making minor headway as I find a voice for the design principals.
And there is the problem, explaining web-based design, so it does not appear I am trying to give design back to the geeks in the IT department, who in some ways are responsible for all these zillion-image web site designs in the first place.
The core of this code-wise has been beaten into my head by my designer/coder/partner Rick Frankel, who's mantra is "logical markup" -- an H1 tag is a header, not just big bold text, in a nutshell.
But I am seeking more, a clearer design sense - more clearly articulated, outside of showing examples like 2x4.org. Programmers are talking about "logical," but the results are marginal, except "under the hood."
I continue looking for fellow travelers.
Logical vs. Physical
Friend Tally
I resisted Facebook, thinking it was just for kids (Silly rabbit), but recently I noticed that many of my friends were there, and it seemed like a good way to keep in contact. Frankly since lower Manhattan emptied itself of artists, I seem to seldom see anyone, except occasionally at openings.
While you can list yourself publicly on Facebook, the majority of users don't, so you have to gather a group of friends around you, to actually view anything meaningful.
So you search your address book and begin adding friends. The first thing you notice is that you have very few friends compared to some who seem to be the most popular kids at school, with 500 or more "friends."
Accepting you will never be that much of a star, you begin comparing your friend list, with those of your friends, ex-friends, ex-lovers, and those you remember as losers. It is not always a pretty picture -- this friend tally.
Anything is better than that first screen you get, when you join, the disturbing statement "Fred has no friends." Last time I looked after a week I had 26 friends, including some of my students, and a couple of friends I was glad to reconnect with.
Facebook does appear to be a great place to connect with other creative people, since each of your friends opens you up to posts from their friends. Pretty close to the way the real world works, or at least used to work for me, when I first came to NYC.
Subliminal Messages
Lately I have been sleeping with my books. Two years ago I started to revisit photography and writing, after years of being on vacation building web sites. Not that web site consulting has not been ...
I remained convinced I could just pick up where I left off in the early '90s and make images again. I inherited mantra of many artists, working in commercial or educational careers, "when I have a block of time, I will make some art."
So far it has not worked out for me. I like some of the work I have been doing, as do others, but it seem to lack something that I have lost over the years, and I am not currently sure what "it" is.
Summer Ends Early [Buddha Amitaba]
I sold my red couch on Craigslist.com, it reminded me too much of lazy sleeping, I did not want to do anymore. So now I am back to straight back chairs, and tables, everywhere.
My life has taken unexpected [expected] turns lately, comings and goings of friends from my life.
I helped a friend reduce household possessions to 400 pounds for shipping by air, it forces one to think about what is important, in the George Carlin "stuff" kind of way. I have been simplifying my life, selling possessions is almost as cathartic as parting with a lover.
I have returned for the fall to teaching, having been invited to spend a semester at Fordham University discussing web design.
The sweet dog, mentioned elsewhere, has gone to visit my poet friend's mother for the next two years, so there is no longer dog hair everywhere. I have taken to strange thoughts of keeping some of the little clumps that keep showing up around my house. Then the thought turns odd, as I imagine a little ribbon around the hair, pressed in a book. So I reluctantly put the hair in the kitchen trash, and just miss that dog.
I have been talking to myself on the street more, riding my bicycle more, and meet unexpectedly with quiet genius everywhere I go.
One of my dearest old friends is fighting losing her eyesight, but having a show of her paintings, and life appears more stable for that.
sleeping/dreaming
I slept though the first half hour of Amos Poe's film Empire II, shown at the Tribecca Film Festival, this weekend. It started at 11 pm, I was exhausted and dosed off immediately to Patti Smith.
Now normally -- being asleep at the beginning of film would be a issue, however in this case I woke up into the blast of the film's soundtrack and breathtaking color as though I had directly entered Robert Smithson's experience of [art as] filmic art. Once resident in Poe's landscape, I reveled in it like a dream, upset to be returned to the theater at the end of 2 1/2 more hours.
"A tone-poem meditation on the city of our dreams. With music by Patti Smith, Jim Carroll, Lucinda Williams, Jeff Buckley, Jimmie James, Steve Earle, Cassis Staudt, Max Nova, Gram Rabbit, Peggy Lee, Allison Moorer, Hysterics, Debbie Harry, B.B. King, Pink Martini, ... and many more."
my life on the mend...
would not, from all the borders of itself,
burst like a star: for here there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.
-Rainer Maria Rilke (except from Archaic Torso of Apollo)
Too cold to go to the park today, no humans around, but a sweet dog is visiting my house, for a week (on the left). The TV has been on and off all day, I bought "art supplies" at Lowe's home center.
Making photographs is always [easier] to talk about, than the actual doing. A friend of mine came over tonight, we ended up talking about the ink on the pages of Aperture magazine, rather than the photographs themselves. Reminded me of all the photo-geeks online who write about equipment. As I become increasingly unsure of what art is -- a website which seems to have transcended geek-speak, and taken on a life of its own (hundreds of camera lens tests) comes to mind; www.ksmt.com.
After my friend left, I ate a pint of ice cream, while looking through the phonebook-sized April issue of Artforum, my confusion -- not lifted, but I am looking forward to my studio tomorrow.
I had so longed, all weekend, to talk about the art, rather than the ink.
Delivery
UPS just delivered a sheet of miniature "grass," browned from not receiving enough water during the hot summer months, or perhaps the "grass" died during the winter?
Since it is very tiny, and it's plastic, I don't have to mow it. I hated mowing grass when I was a kid.
Fumbling around in the past / words rambling
I was poking through my film-based photographs today, searching for bridges and water -- I found this photo from one of my first visits to NYC. I took it in the '60s, my college [girl]friend Paula and I, riding the Staten Island Ferry. Paula looking all "Jackie."
I remember clearly the Nikon F camera I used, its weight, even the smell of metal and leatherette. The camera made me feel, even as a student, I could make real art.
Cameras always subtly excite me. I studied painting, but I never found harmony with the materials, the way I did with those little photography machines. Paula's father Frank loaned us a Miranda camera, the first precision Japanese camera I had ever seen -- started photography for me (I think I might have broken the camera!).
Paula had a friend in the architecture school, at Washington U, who sold me my first Nikon F [first serious camera]. While taking that photo I realized we both wanted to live in NYC. Eventually Paula and I moved to NYC, she first, to study and eventually become an illustrator. I stayed in St. Louis 4 more years. We were so sure, that day in NYC, we would be artists.
Today my working camera is digital, not such a visceral instrument, but still, the act of recording moments in time...
addendum: Finding that photo forced me to drift around in the past, reminded me how easily beauty escapes our grasp. The last time I saw Paula she rollerbladed into De Robertis Pasticceria on 1st Ave., beautiful as ever. She talked happily about her husband, her life in NYC. I never saw her again, she died in 1988, from breast cancer.
Just one of those days, when I can smell spring, when art and life are on my mind. Back to work now. Enough.
"Dot-Com Throne"
Tomorrow I get my Aeron chair back from Sam Flax. The seat needed repairing and the arms were worn out. Herman Miller offers a 12 year warranty so all I had to do was pay for pickup and delivery. Sam Flax has been great, personal emails, and a three personal phone calls!
Target's Kool Kolors Task Chair
Sometimes the Aeron seems a bit pretentious now that the dot-com era is "over." Like I am harboring a fugitive that escaped the Nasdaq debacle. In the interem I bought a couple of inexpensive green desk chairs from Target, gave one to a friend, smaller, nice colors, less showy, they fit into my smaller Brooklyn studio nicely.
I miss my Aeron, not just because it is comfortable, dare I say cozy? The NY Times called it the "dot-com throne," when the Aeron's designer, Bill Stumpf, died in September of 2006. My favorite quote from that article, "Aerons piled up in a corner as a kind of corporate graveyard after they laid off 95 percent of the staff in about two months."
I survived -- and so did my Aeron, both the Nasdaq and 9/11. I brought mine from Manhattan to Brooklyn in 2003, I will be glad to have it back home.
(It just came via messenger, and they rebuilt it like new, new seat, arms, and pneumatic cylinder! www.samflax.com)
After a few days, I am not sure I will keep it, maybe I have finally outgrown it, now that I have been with the little green cutie from Target.
Spend the day...
Look at these links when you are reminded, by a visit to eBay or CNN, how really awful most of the web is designed. There are enough designers to keep you busy for days, especially if you follow their links too.
Both print and web design, linked from a brilliantly simple homepage. www.forestyoung.com
"equivalent reproduction"
Lately I have been wanting to put something online about how [and maybe why] some of my photographs exist.
I had model trains when I was a kid. My mother built my first "train board" for me, and my younger brother, when I was about 6. My mother painted with great economy, I knew at the time she had created something unusual, no other kids I knew had. I wish I had better, color, photos.
my mother's highway around the lake
When I was 15, building a models, in my parents' basement, no one seemed to grasp I was building an alternative reality to inhabit. The "real" world was excruciatingly boring, just endless hours at school, watching the hands tick off the minutes until lunch, nothing to do but figure out ways to cheat on the the next exam. No video games or the internet to escape to.
Jean Baudrillard was still in school, but there I was, right in the midst of his future words,
"The very definition of the real has become: that of which it is possible to give an equivalent reproduction. . . The real is not only what can be reproduced, but that which is always already reproduced: that is the hyperreal… which is entirely in simulation."
Well maybe more in the world of the Matrix? Baudrillard is, after all, more political in his arguements, and I am more interested in the paradoxes of reality and illusion. But his name does come up.
Reality has never been as satisfying as I had hoped, but still, I am not really commenting on Baudrillard's lament on the disappearance of the real, "the most important event of modern history."
I meant this post to be less convoluted [abstract] than it actually is, I was thinking, originally, to just show a photo of a model during construction. It is hard to be Charlie Brown.
"New" video
After seeing DISBAND perform, I was drawn into looking through some of my video tapes from the '70s. While at Washington University my friend Danny Dries bought one of the earliest portable video recorders, the SONY 3400, I was crazy to have one too. At that same time the magazine Radical Software showed up in my life:
"The historic video magazine Radical Software was started by Beryl Korot, Phyllis Gershuny, and Ira Schneider and first appeared in Spring of 1970, soon after low-cost portable video equipment became available to artists" http://www.radicalsoftware.org/e/
I finally found a way to buy a SONY 3400 in the summer of 1972 (it cost as much as my car!). Video tapes from then were reel-to-reel 1/2 inch, and when I tried to play them back in the '90s they just sat on the machine and squeaked! Nothing would play! But in about 2001 I read it was possible to "bake" old SONY tapes in the oven, driving out the water that was causing the problem, and they would play. So I cranked up my oven, and managed to re-record many of my old tapes.
My old 1/2 video now is jumpy, and has scan lines (it looks like an iMovie effect) but they do play, and I just put the first one on my web site as a flash movie.
They really are historical documents (in the words of Galaxy Quest). In 1972 having a personal video recorder was like having the first Brownie camera! The first video I converted to flash is here, http://www.romdog.com/art/more.html
DISBAND
30th Anniversary Reunion of DISBAND featuring Ilona Granet, Donna Hennes, Diane Torr and Martha Wilson.
Ilona Granet, photographed today at P.S.1
"DISBAND consisted of women artists, none of whom knew how to play any instruments so we used Kentucky Fried Chicken buckets, hammer, radio, flag, bedsheet, party hats, flour and fake braids to perform songs like "Every Day Same Old Way," "Sad," and "Iran-y." DISBAND included Daile Kaplan, Barbara Kruger, and April Gornik in the early days. Later, Martha Wilson, Donna Henes, Diane Torr and Ingrid Sischy were joined by Ilona Granet. Then Diane dropped out when we were in Italy, and we disbanded in 1982."
-- Franklin Furnace
I was sitting in the audience with artists Carolee Schneemann, Julie Harrison, and photographer Terry Slotkin, realizing how fortunate I was to be among interesting, brilliant, courageous, and beautiful women!
WACK! ART AND THE FEMINIST REVOLUTION - at P.S. 1 MOMA
BOMB All-Stars
Rick and I just finished putting the Kitchen readings online at BOMB. Created by the BOMB staff in-house, they are incredible readings and performances!
new videos
BOMB All-Stars: Kimiko Hahn, Matthea Harvey,
Jaime Manrique, Robert Polito and Ned Sublette
The Kitchen, NYC, June 14, 2006
BOMB’s 25th Anniversary Reading
"BOMB Magazine celebrated its 25th Anniversary year of publishing legendary interviews with an all-star literary line-up of its esteemed contributing editors on June 14, 2006, at The Kitchen in New York City. The event included readings by Kimiko Hahn, Matthea Harvey, Jaime Manrique, Robert Polito, and performances by writer and musician Ned Sublette."
BOMB Magazine
www.BOMBsite.com
In 2007 I was priviliged to begin work on the redesign of BOMB magazine's web site with my long time programmer partner Rick Frankel. Rick is a genius when it comes to designing web forms to allow the creation of web pages without programming. He designed a database to present all of the past BOMB issues on the web.
We are beginning a new year with BOMB, putting video interviews on the web, and further refining their web site. I have known Betsy Sussler, Co-Founder, Publisher & Editor-in-Chief, since my first years in NYC, fresh out of Art School. I left the art world in the mid '90s to work on the web, but BOMB has brought me back. I have found BOMB interviews a real source of inspiration!
For those not familiar with BOMB here is what they say about themselves:
BOMB Magazine was founded in 1981 as an artists’ and writers’ quarterly dedicated to presenting work in its own light, and artists’ and writers’ conversations in their own words.
6 years later, more than 800 visual artists, writers, musicians, directors, architects, and actors have taken that idea and run with it. Their voices comprise an ongoing conversation—published in the pages of BOMB — that has changed the nature of cultural discourse.
BOMB has since grown to become an international magazine with an editorial board of over 80 professional artists, writers, actors, directors, architects, and musicians serving as our Contributing Editors.
Revelations happen in conversations. They make art more accessible, not only to the reader, but to the artists themselves. For 26 years,
BOMB’s mission has remained intact: To reveal the intellectual heart of the matter, and to promote an understanding and appreciation of the arts through carefully developed conversations about the arts, by the people who make the arts.
Focusing on ideas rather than personalities, BOMB interviews delve into discussions of process and aesthetics, allowing for the emergence of complex and varied positions on art making and life throughout editorial revisions. These interviews have become primary documents of American cultural history because artists, the primary source of the creative process, are the authors of their own tales. This simple idea of complex proportions has changed the way in which contemporary culture is understood. The pendulum has swung from the days the critic held sway.
Today, universities, museums, and art institutions across America include the artist’s voice as integral to their programming, a direct result of BOMB ’s effect on the culture. And when the pendulum swings again, BOMB will remain an artists’ and writers’ spokespiece. That is BOMB’s mandate: its commitment to the artists.
In 2005, Columbia University’s Rare Book and Manuscript Library acquired the last quarter-century of BOMB’s archive—including audio files, marginalia, and multiple drafts of hundreds of our interviews—where they will be accessible to students and scholars worldwide—a true testament to BOMB’s legacy.
