Wakges: September 2010

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Tokyo Snaps

Looking at Andy Warhol polaroids.

It should be pretty clear that I'm crazy about Tokyo. Unfortunately this last trip was nearly all work, but here a few snaps of some of the things and people who caught my eye.

Burberry baby.

Louise Bourgeois sculpture at the Mori plaza.

Yoshioka Tokujin installation at the Mori Museum. The artist uses technology to recreate natural phenomena such as the snowstorm pictured here.

Murakami dolls in the museum shop.

Mika Ninagawa books and merchandise.

The pool and whirlpool at the Grand Hyatt.

My last breakfast at the hotel.

William Morris and the Daisy Wallpaper

Illustration: William Morris. Daisy wallpaper design, 1864.

The Daisy pattern, along with Pomegranate were the first William Morris wallpapers to be produced, appearing in 1864. Daisy was in fact designed in 1862, but was not released on that date because of problems Morris was having in achieving a high enough standard of production. Eventually he had to admit defeat and the printing of wallpapers was taken over by the very reliable wallpaper manufacturers Jeffrey & Co. However, Daisy was a strictly hand-produced wallpaper using the block print method and Jeffrey & Co never wavered from Morris strict and closed instructions.

The use of and insistence by Morris of hand production wherever available, had the inevitable result of raising the cost of manufacturing the wallpapers involved. This had a direct and inevitable effect on the price of Morris wallpapers in general, which resulted in limiting their access, with only the small wealthy upper class being able to afford to buy from Morris. This was in direct conflict with Morris initial attempt to produce high quality interior products for all classes and ranges of budget. It appears that Morris exacting demands and his insistence on perfection which were always a large part of his character, won the battle between quality and the masses.

Illustration: Brussels tapestry in wool and silk, 16th century.

The Daisy pattern itself was derived from late medieval styled tapestry motifs. The sixteenth century example above should give some idea as to the origin of one of Morris most successful decorative works. It was a conscious decision on the part of Morris to use both a medieval styled pattern and one that was much more naturalistic in content than was perhaps usual for the time period. Daisy fuelled Morris desire to achieve a medieval simplicity along with a form of synchronicity with the era, that while accepting the contemporary world that Morris lived in, also recognised the relevant and superior points of decorative pattern work from the late medieval, at least as Morris saw it.

Daisy came in a number of colourways and proved to be hugely successful, still being printed fifty years after its initial printing in 1864. Although perhaps less involved than some of his later wallpaper creations, Daisy has a charm all of its own. Its defined, yet easily accessible late medievalism made it an extremely attractive proposition and was particularly popular with artistic and creative circles who often saw it as both refined and naively refreshing. Morris kept over-stylisation to a gentle minimum, although the daisy motifs are far from any strict form of realism. The compositional parameters of the pattern work are both harmonious and seemingly effortless. Along with its clear, concise and well balanced colours and tones, it is easy to see why it proved to be so effective and enduring.

Illustration: William Morris. Daisy wallpaper design, 1864.

Morris himself was never convinced as to the legitimacy of wallpaper and often referred to it as a poor substitution for fabric covered walls. In his estimation of the importance and effectiveness of the different interior products that Morris & Co produced over the decades, wallpaper was consistently at the bottom. There was a certain element of snobbery on Morris part as fabric wallcoverings were always perceived, particularly in the eighteenth century as infinitely superior to that of wallpaper. However, in the nineteenth century even those wealthy enough to afford fabric wallcoverings, were buying smart and fashionable contemporary wallpapers in which to decorate their homes. That Morris continued throughout his career to both design and sell wallpaper pattern work, shows that despite his reservations he was pragmatic enough to understand both the appeal and the money it accrued for the company.

Daisy is an interesting example of Morris early work and shows clearly where his ideas and initial interests and enthusiasm lay. These became more indistinct and complex as his career progressed, but at this early stage a love of nature as seen through the lens of late medievalism, is as obvious as his very direct inspirational copying from late medieval and early renaissance textile works shows.

Meet Lloyd Ziff

In what is fast becoming a "Meet the Legendary Art Directors" series, tonight we are having a book signing for Lloyd Ziff. The former art director of magazines including Vanity Fair, House & Garden, and Travel & Leisure, Ziff has always been a keen snapper and his new book "Near North" presents a collection of photographs shot in Alaska and the Yukon. Not surprisingly, Ziff brings his graphic sense to the remote and vast wilderness, along with a strong sense of the strangeness and uniqueness of the place.

The book signing is from 6 to 8 p.m..

Favorites List --- Alan Ladd and Appointment With Danger

Ladd Always Pleases Here: Boy, for the number of times I've read that exhibitor comment in trade journals. So why's Alan Ladd so forgotten now? Well, partly it's films out of circulation. Most of his good Paramounts are below ground, and don't ask about ones he produced of which negatives his family came heir to. Some of those played television in syndication years, then vamoosed. Remember Drum Beat, Hell On Frisco Bay, Guns Of The Timberland? They were Jaguar Productions. That was Alan's company. He was plenty big enough to have his own company. Jack Warner said there was nobody more reliable for boxoffice (AL moved to WB in the fifties). Like Warners' Errol Flynn, Ladd was an action man, easiest to sell in that capacity and welcome in all venues ... first-run, drive-in, or grind. You could call him a half-pint Flynn were size the issue. For too many people it was, and that's part of what tortured Laddie (was that nickname inspired by his diminutive stature?). Maybe they forgot that little guys often move fastest, and believe me (or your eyes), AL was like a gazelle when time came to lift off. He's another I'll watch no matter the film. There's depth to Ladd no one could have got while he was alive and darker truths of his life were unknown. All that was well concealed by happy time merchants who made him seem essence of fame and family in harmony, when in fact he was Sad Ladd from start to a lonely finish. Those that knew him got to live longer to tell how melancholy it all was. Herbert Coleman gave a chapter of his Hollywood memoir to meditation of final inning Ladd trying to put together ill-starred projects and dodging a wife who seemingly ran every aspect of his micro-managed life. Just dare me to jump out that window shouted Ladd at a 1963 low-point, shortly before the end.

My sixth-grade band teacher and former Our Gang-er whom I've talked about before was represented by Sue Carol, actress turned agent who took over Ladd and went about said micro-doings. Well, she also handled Priscilla Lyon's teenage castings and invited her out for barbecues from time to time. Priscilla recalled to me how parties around the grill were usually minus by-then husband to Sue, Alan Ladd having repaired poolside and alone. He was cordial but distant, she said. This year's Columbus Cinevent gave opportunity to meet onetime kid actor Charles Herbert, who'd worked with Ladd at age ten when they did The Man In The Net (1959). He told me AL was way to himself and had nothing to do off-camera with several youngsters that figured into Net's story. By then, Ladd was deep also into cups and decline that followed. His features got puffy and reactions slowed. The lithe figure that monkeyed up a slick pole in The Iron Mistress was thicker and far less alert. He'd die early (at 50) before his last, The Carpetbaggers, was released. You knew from watching that starring days were done in any event. Carroll Baker spoke later of crew folk at Paramount being glad to have well-liked Ladd back on the lot, even as younger and less gracious George Peppard showed little respect for this star who'd really kept the studio in chips over a long, lucrative haul.

So this rambling brings me round to out-on-DVD Appointment With Danger, one of my favorite Ladds and a sterling film noir if you prefer slapping a more commercial label on it. I'm very much for reviving Alan Ladd. Back when I collected vintage scrapbooks, there was no male name that filled more of them. Good gravy, he was huge in the day. But enough of that for a moment. Consider Appointment With Danger. Ladd's a postal inspector who goes undercover to bust up a mail robbery. Jack Webb and Harry Morgan are among the heavies, and Jan Sterling is a quasi-bad girl. Here is about the most pleasurable investment of 89 minutes you could make. It was part of a noir cycle where enforcement agencies were methodically glorified badge by badge. T-Men, C-Men, and immigration watchdogs had been celebrated. Now it was the post office's moment. That institution could use a back-pat right now for all I'm hearing about them going broke, but we're too cynical to extend plaudits for fed employees on any job, so Appointment won't likely get remade, but 1951 being that simpler time we keep hearing about, Paramount sent out bands blaring for the USPS and put flyers into (wow!) 21,000 post offices tieing-in across the land. There was even a commendation letter from ye Postmaster General himself (below). If real-life inspectors went about business as ruthlessly as Alan Ladd in Appointment With Danger, there must surely have been fewer letters (and payrolls) lost in 1951. His character was by then a patented one ... the loner, only friend is his gun, women don't melt him, etc. Ladd had played that in everything back to This Gun For Hire, and each time it worked because folks liked him best silent and deadly. AL moved forward by holding back and made underplaying a signature. Talent like this wasn't much rewarded except at cash registers, but hey, where else did it matter?

Ladd loved his fans and treated them like pen pals. These at-home with secretaries shots were no puff. AL with wife's (no doubt hovering) assist made business of being Alan Ladd a 24-7 proposition. He needed an athlete's build for stamina that required. Ladd's screen character seemed always to be coming in from the outside and going out the same way --- alone. Audiences were well prepared for him as Shane. That one's the definitive statement of what it was to be Alan Ladd. Without him, it wouldn't have been near the show it was. AL used to joke about his abbreviated gestures, not appreciating (because maybe no one told him) just how effective they were. I gave a really good "look" today was how he summed up performing so close to the vest. Could be that look he referred to happened in Appointment With Danger when bad guy Paul Stewart slams a bar counter on his fingers. Well, for that split moment, Laddie's eyes widen but slightly to reveal a panther's quickness held barely in check, letting us wonder when he'll cut loose (he does, in short bursts like on a handball court with Jack Webb, and it's magical). Should this kind of coiled quality be revered over acting chops easier to spot and applaud? In movies, where action always speaks more effectively than words, I'd say yes. Women went kooky for Ladd because he could never quite be reached . The pistol that doesn't jam was his preferred date, but gals could dream, couldn't they? Teaming him with a nun in Appointment With Danger was inspired outcome of a Ladd image going into Decade Two. He offers this untouchable counterpart protection and tender concern withheld from mainstream reps of the opposite sex who might want more commitment than he's got to give.

Graphic Medicine

I’m not a great aficionado of comics or graphic novels. I know who Alan Moore and Stan Lee are; various (male) friends and family have raised my awareness of Marvel and DC Comics; I’ve read the odd issue of Swamp Thing, but the term graphic medicine was new to me. I came across it when a list of recommendations for the Library’s Medicine & Society Collection landed on my desk. They all came from the Graphic Medicine website created by Dr Ian Williams. This excellent website identifies and reviews graphic novels relating to all aspects of health and medical culture. Since the Medicine & Society Collection is all about exploring key medical and health themes in contemporary society, graphic medicine seemed like a perfect fit.

Definitions
A quick aside here: The distinction between graphic novels and comic books is imprecise, but graphic novels tend to come in bound book format and are usually a single continuous narrative, they can be fiction, biography or non-fiction. The term ‘comic books’ is generally used for single unbound pamphlets that serialise a story in weekly issues traditionally bought from newsagents. The Wellcome Library also has a selection of comic books, most of which are public health information pamphlets.

Variety
Having had a chance to examine some of the graphic novels in more detail, I’ve been impressed by the range of topics covered and by the diversity of authors working in this relatively small field:

There are patient accounts of illness and treatment, such as Cancer made me a shallower person by Miriam Engelberg and Spiral Cage, Al Davison’s autobiographical account of living with spina bifida.

There are views from inside the health care system such as Psychiatric Tales by Darryl Cunningham who worked as a health care assistant in an acute psychiatric ward, and Couch Fiction, an account of a therapy session from the points of view of both the patient and the therapist.

Perhaps surprisingly, there were quite a few accounts of carers and family members’ experiences of living with a sick person, such as Epileptic, a memoir of growing up with a brother who has epilepsy, and Blue Pills, a love story about a man’s relationship with a woman and her son, both of whom have HIV.

There are also more traditional comic formats such as the manga style Monster, a thriller about a hospital doctor tracking down a serial killer. The manga novels offer an extra challenge to readers in English because, although they are translated from the original Japanese, they still read from right to left, which can take some getting used to.

The authors are a mix of ages and sexes, and come from Japan, the United States, France and the UK, and there are almost as many different and styles and techniques as there are authors.

Medical education

Along with the development of medical humanities, literature and arts are proving to be useful tools in medical education and patient care. Patient narratives can give health care professionals a valuable insight into the patient’s point of view, but a recent BMJ article on graphic medicine suggested that by using techniques such manipulation of scale, text and image, graphic novels have “the ability to convey visceral understanding in ways that conventional texts cannot” [i]. Their ‘unreal’ quality can also make it easier for trainee health practitioners to discuss difficult or complex issues of ethics or interpersonal communication. In the increasingly global field of public health, they can be particularly useful for reaching young people or non-native speakers.

Pay attention here’s the library bit...
All the titles can be found at the same location in the Library, a specially created classification for graphic novels in the Medicine & Society Collection: HHLC. This allows readers to see the variety of themes amongst the graphic novels and directly compare their different styles. Library catalogue users can also search by genre for ‘graphic novels’ to see what is available across the collections.

As an emerging genre, graphic medicine offers a vivid representation of how illness, disability and health issues can touch people in so many different ways: personally, professionally, directly and indirectly. They are an exciting addition to the Library collections, and one that I look forward to expanding in the future.

[i] Green, Michael J. and Myers, Kimberly R.; Graphic medicine: use of comics in medical education and patient care in BMJ Vol. 340 Iss. 7746, 13 March 2010

Author: Lalita Kaplish

Feeding the Swans

Watch out some of them bite.

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

"Having New Eyes"

On my calendar this week:

The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.
Marcel Proust

So true, so true.

Graslitz Lace School

Illustration: Graslitz Lace School. Collar in needlepoint lace, c1905.

The Graslitz Lace School was one of a series set up and maintained by the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Graslitz, which is present day Kraslice in the Czech Republic, was by no means the only school in the area that dealt with the teaching of traditional crafts. Bohemia was a particularly rich area for craft disciplines and the Austro-Hungarian authorities set up a number of schools that concentrated on furniture, stone carving, glass, metal, jewellery and ceramics craft work, as well as textile based disciplines such as weaving, embroidery, lace, rug making and basketry.

Many of the schools were founded at the end of the nineteenth century and the system itself was up and running well before 1900. However, this also means that all of the disciplines were firmly affected and influenced by the Art Nouveau movement and much of the lace work produced in the school was certainly affected by the decorative movement. However, the actual reasoning behind the craft school system was one based on the Arts & Crafts ideas and ideals of John Ruskin, whereby local sustainability and the propagation and continuation of traditional regional skills was actively encouraged.

Illustration: Graslitz Lace School. Lace pocket handkerchief, c1905.

The schools were set in place to encourage and diversify the various craft traditions throughout the Empire. Strangely they were both provincial and central at the same time. While regional characteristics and ethnic diversity was encouraged, at least to a certain extent, most of the design work which the students used in order to practice and perfect their skills base, was sent out from Vienna where a handful of experienced artists and designers produced the design work. This is particularly true of the Graslitz Lace School where decorative pattern work used by the students was directly derived from designs by Franziska Hofmanninger, Mathilde Hrdlicka and a small number of other designers who all worked in Vienna.

Interestingly, schools like the one set up in Graslitz, did have a certain amount of independence despite the fact that they were tied into a state framework. The language that schools used for teaching for example was not necessarily the official German or Hungarian language, but could reflect the local ethnic makeup of regions. Also, in the case of Graslitz, the local Bohemian traditions and styles were incorporated as much as possible into the design work, so that although Art Nouveau designs were sent out by Central Government, they could be tempered by local lace making techniques and practices. After all, the lace produced at Graslitz was by students who would have been expected to have graduated and then worked or taught within the local Bohemian lace craft industry.

Illustration: Graslitz Lace School. Drawn thread work, c1905.

The system was regularly monitored from Vienna, where a number of added initiatives were included such as regular touring exhibitions and libraries that kept many of the regions in contact with the latest ideas and stylistic thinking that was present in the capital.

All of the examples shown in this article were produced by students at the Graslitz Lace School in about 1905. They do range in both style and sophistication, some of which is down to the ability of the individual student, but also that of the designer in Vienna.

Although state run initiatives tend to be problematic and prone to funding and political problems, the Austro-Hungarian applied art schools network proved to be extraordinarily successful and found praise throughout Europe, as well as North America. The fact that the authorities within the Empire actually wanted the system to work, which is not always the case with government initiatives and programmes, added to its likelihood to succeed.

Illustration: Graslitz Lace School. Drawn thread work, c1905.

Although with the advent of the First World War and the eventual collapse and partition of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, which also proved to be the end of the applied arts network, the system had worked. By producing an optimistic blueprint for the practical and successful application of craft schools in a world dominated by industrial mass production, the Austro-Hungarian government had proved that hand-craft could be both a part of the contemporary world and organised in a fashion that made it work. That this was one of the few successful attempts to highlight and emphasise the craft tradition and the art of hand-work is perhaps a reflection of the institutional neglect by successive central governments of the importance that these traditions played and still could play within the economy and larger cultural heritage of both nations and regions of a contemporary Europe.

Further reading links:

Contemporary Bohemian Lace

Pictorial Archive of Lace Designs: 325 Historic Examples (Dover Pictorial Archive Series)

Art & Society: The New Art Movement in Vienna, 1897-1914

Vienna, 1890-1920

Vienna 1900 (Memoires)

Vojtech Preissig: Art nouveau from a flourishing period of Czech culture

Art-Nouveau Prague

Prague 1900

Identification of Lace (Shire Library)

Pictorial Archive of Lace Designs: 325 Historic Examples (Dover Pictorial Archive Series)

Beginner's Guide to Bobbin Lace