Art from the Ruins

A Conversation with Artist Aaron Moran

A few years ago I took an extension class at the SF Art Institute about creating art from scrap. The truth is I took the class so I could spend more time in the concrete complex, which I love. One of my life regrets is that I didn’t pursue fine art and the SF Art Institute might have been the right place in the late 1970s. In the class I made a couple of three-dimensional sculptures out of scraps that I found. Now everywhere I turn I see litter and garbage I want to transform into small collages. But I worry about the germs.

Aaron Moran isn’t so fearful. He finds art in the waste of building sites near his home outside Vancouver where old houses have been torn down to make way for new condos. A few weeks ago I was posting images in my Art file on Pinterest and came across works by this artist I had never heard of. I tracked Aaron down and we had the following conversation via email.

Did you study artists who liked hard-edged geometric forms like (early) Frank Stella or Kenneth Noland? Did Joseph Cornell influence you in terms of reusing the discards of society?

Frank Stella was definitely someone whose work I have always remembered and admired, but I wouldn’t say I’m influenced by him. Joseph Cornell, not so much, but an artist who also worked with assemblage boxes similar to him who really did influence my work was Karl Fred Dahmen.

What was it about Dahmen’s work that influenced you?

I only stumbled across his work about the time I was in art school, but his assemblages and use of found materials were very intriguing. I loved how he created compositions out of materials regarded as waste (in many case, literally taken from junk yards).

Can you talk about other artists who were important to you growing up?

When I was younger, I enjoyed surrealism, for example Magritte and Dali, but I don’t necessarily see any connection between them and my current practice.

Do you think of your work as based in place? I understand that a lot of the raw material is detritus from sites where homes have been torn down. But is it accidentally about Vancouver and Langley, British Columbia?

The work is certainly about place. It is no accident that the pieces reference the locations they come from. Many of my earlier works are actually named after the addresses where the materials were found. I find a lot of importance in the context of the work—where it’s made, where it’s exhibited, etc. By working in Langley, I feel that the work acts as a primary source regarding the current development practices of the location.

Do you still live in Langley?

I recently moved about 15 minutes east to Surrey, British Columbia, which is experiencing similar developments, but is much further along. Instead of building town homes and condos as in Langley, they are building high-rises and sprawling multilevel malls.

What inspired you move from flat collage to more three-dimensional sculptures?

Actually, it happened the other way around—I began with three-dimensional works and eventually started creating flat ones when I was running low on material and experimenting with painting. Because the material is found, there is only so much of it available to use, so it happened out of necessity more than anything.

Have you continued to pursue larger works?

I have had a hard time working large, mainly because of limited studio space and limited space to store it once it’s complete. I hope to have the opportunity to work large or explore installations while pursuing my MFA.

Did you take shop in high school? Or did you learn to work the equipment in college?

I did take shop in high school, but only for about two years—truth be told, I was quite afraid of certain power tools. My dad has a small woodworking shop, so my confidence with working on the equipment came from experimenting and playing around throughout the years. While I have been successful creating sculptures, I am a poor carpenter.

What did you do in the one-year residency that was different from your regular life? Was it like a sabbatical from your paying job? How did it change your work?

I remained working during the residency (at a nearby university). More than anything, it gave me space and time and removed distractions. I was about 1 hour and 45 minutes from Langley, living alone with nobody nearby. It gave me the time to experiment around the clock, and while I don’t love every piece I created while there, it was responsible for creating a steppingstone for the work I create now.

Do you typically drive around the city looking for scraps?

I walk a lot, so if I find pieces small enough to carry, I pick them up while I’m out. If I find a stash that is too difficult to walk with, I will make note of it and come back with a car to pick it all up.

What is the weirdest thing you ever found?

Weird, but not too uncommon, are the belongings of people who seem to have left their properties in a hurry. Things like personally recorded VHS tapes, kids’ dolls or toys, even a photo album now and then.

A recent blog post suggested you were working with new wood and paint. Is this a different direction?

The wood, while it may appear new, is in fact gathered from bins that are designated as shop waste from several shops around town. I think this hits home the idea that people are throwing away perfectly good material without thinking of its possibilities. The use of painting is something I am exploring, but more in a way to emphasize the materials I found to begin with.

Do you use glue to hold your pieces together? Or nails? Or both?

I use a high-melting-point hot glue and air nails when necessary. Wood glue does not set fast enough for the way I work.

You’ve mentioned the phrase “organized chaos” before. In a video of one of your lectures, there were pictures of your three-dimensional sculptures underneath a photograph of the lot where you found some of the debris that went into the piece. Do the piles influence the shape of your three-dimensional work?

Absolutely—I think more than anything they reference the jagged piles of material from where they came. Also just the chaotic mess left behind by developers who bulldoze everything into unorganized piles. I try to organize them into something aesthetically pleasing.

Are your pieces like a frozen memento of what was lost?

I think that is the best way to put it. They are pieces made from structures of a different time that have been removed and forgotten about by the time something new is built where it once stood.

Does faith play a role in your work?

No.

When you are in a work groove, do you think of that time as spiritual in some way?

Not in any religious sense, but I get a natural high when I am on a roll—I feel incredibly energized. It is my time to myself, and it’s exciting to see what I can do with it.

Does anybody ever throw you off their land for trespassing?

I don’t jump fences or take material from construction lots—I only go on lots that have been abandoned for long periods of time. The worst I’ve had was a security guard asking what I was doing and asking me to leave. It’s easy enough, however, to come back at a later time.

Do you work on several pieces at one time, moving back and forth?

I always work on several pieces at a time, that way I can jump back and forth if I find pieces of material that would work better in a certain situation. Also, when I get frustrated with one piece, I can move on to another until I’m ready to come back to it.

Are you embracing social media as a way to share your art, your sensibility?

I used to have a Tumblr account, but I found it insufficient for creating a professional-looking portfolio. I don’t use Facebook for my art.

I found a number of videos about your work. Is that a medium you want to explore further?

Definitely not—in these cases, I feel that the video worked more as documentation than anything else.

Are you still thinking about pursuing a master’s degree?

I will be beginning my MFA studies this September at the University of Windsor in Ontario.

Why did you choose the University of Windsor?

I’m very interested in the Windsor/Detroit region because of its history as a “failed” manufacturing district. From my research, it seems that entire neighborhoods have turned into ghost towns. I suppose I see the area as a microcosm of the overlying development issues that I explore now.

Given how much your work has been shaped by your immediate environs, how do you think Ontario might influence your work?

I feel like the themes I explore are readily available in that region, just on a much larger scale. Windsor has a far more developed history that Langley, so I can’t help but think that my work will resonate with the place.

All images courtesy aaronsmoran.com.

Summoning Ghosts: The Art of Hung Liu

Through June 30, 2013, at the Oakland Museum

Daughter of the Revolution, 1993
courtesy museumca.org

It took me a while to warm to Hung Liu’s art. Not to the artist herself. As soon as you meet her, she pulls you in. Her combination of humor and seriousness wins you over. She uses her English-as-a-second-language as a device to outmaneuver you. Hung Liu understands how almost everything can become its opposite.

No, it took me a while to warm to the overwhelmingly representational imagery in Hung Liu’s paintings. But like so much art, traditional or conceptual, you just have to give it time.

Hung Liu was educated at the Central Academy of Fine Arts in Beijing. She moved to the United States in 1984 and graduated from UC San Diego in 1986. She draws on her social realist training in China and turns it on its head. When I look at her painting Chinese Profile III, I focus on the old woman’s hand and see a stunning abstract painting. When I rejoin the vignette to the whole, it is, once again, a beautifully rendered hand. Hung is painting realistically and abstractly simultaneously. By redeploying the realistic technique of propagandistic art, she celebrates the individual. Each person in Hung’s world asks the viewer to think about them, their life, their woes, their joy, their unique humanity.

Chinese Profile III, 1998
courtesy museumca.org

I had never seen her small paintings or photographs. In China, fearing persecution by government authorities, she had to create these works out of sight. This is why the series of small paintings are called My Secret Freedom. Art was her freedom symbolically and, eventually, literally. The curator has placed these pieces in a small side gallery that reminds the viewer that this art could not be created in the open. In contrast to the rest of the exhibition, they are small and intimate, like a treasure that has just been discovered. It is no wonder that after she moved to the United States, Hung Liu’s canvases came to be so large and to boldly command the viewer’s attention. Freedom needs to be seen and heard.

Village Photograph 8
courtesy hungliu.com

My Secret Freedom 11
courtesy hungliu.com

To Live
courtesy hungliu.com

She returns to the intimate scale when she records her mother’s belongings after she passed away. These paintings are also tucked away in another side gallery. Be sure to see them.

In a long, horizontal piece like Hua Gang (Flower Ridge), the starving men contrast with beautiful pink flowers. We know these men are likely to be dead, but the viewer can remember each unique being surrounded with beauty. Other reviewers have remarked on Hung’s drip technique, which I think of as evidence of rebellion against the strict social realist training. And as tears.

She remembers the dispossessed. Many pieces are of women in oppressive conditions, whether they are forced to serve as laborers or prostitutes or simply to suffer the restriction of bound feet. One of the most stunning works is Mu Nu (Mother and Daughter), with more shades of gray than I ever imagined.

Mu Nu (Mother and Daughter), 1997
courtesy museumca.org

Shan — Mountain, 2012
courtesy paulsonbottpress.com

The painting that took my breath away was September 2001, where a squawking bird and a child symbolize an unwilling plane and an innocent tower. The fruit, flowers, and feathers of the crown are interdependent. One way to process the enormity of the tragedy of 9/11 is to focus on one child and on the beauty of nature. Despite the preponderance of drips, the fantastic imagery rings clear. Every life matters.

September, 2001
courtesy hungliu.com

For further information:

http://www.hungliu.com/
http://www.museumca.org/gallery/summoning-ghosts-art-hung-liu
http://www.paulsonbottpress.com/artists/liu_hung/liu.html

Who Pays the Piper?

Removing San Francisco’s Urbanity

Pied Piper by Maxfield Parrish
Courtesy thepalacehotel.org

The removal of Maxfield Parrish’s Pied Piper mural from the bar of the same name in the Sheraton Palace Hotel was another moment of loss. Another piece of San Francisco that belonged to my parents’ generation during and after World War II, and the trace I experienced, vanished overnight. Another huge corporation acting in its own short-term interests erased our urbanity.

No doubt the Sheraton bean-counters figured they could make more money turning the space to another “higher” use, like a spa or a high-end celebrity chef restaurant. And get a few million bucks for the Parrish painting at auction. Odd they would want to kill another restaurant space when they had one sitting empty in the southeast corner of the same property.

In college, when we fell in love with abstract expressionist, pop, and conceptual artists, we disdained Parrish as sentimental. But we grew more expansive in middle age and liked the Piper’s big gulp martinis and manhattans and found ourselves celebrating an era before our own under Parrish’s slightly garish and beautifully rendered fairy tale. At least there was his mark.

So a group of cranky folks like your faithful correspondent started complaining. Petitions from change.org and stories in the local media appear to have pressured the Pied Piper owners to bring the painting back to the Palace. But they aren’t promising that it will be in the bar. If we had Facebook when corporate know-nothings tore down the City of Paris and the Fitzhugh Building, we might have a more urbane San Francisco—certainly a more beautiful Union Square (that renovation of the park a few years ago didn’t exactly help!).

Forgive me for getting sentimental about the San Francisco that isn’t. I just don’t want to lose the San Francisco of my childhood forever. This was a San Francisco built by individuals who tried their luck in gold fields, or sold to those who did, and then left their mark. But the gas ran out after a century or so, and the rich sold up to faceless corporations or closed shop. It’s getting harder and harder to find beauty or invention that hasn’t been folded into homogeneity. On this beautiful spring afternoon, we walked along Lakeshore Avenue near our home in Oakland. A beautiful old-fashioned neighborhood street that has been infiltrated with a Chipotle, Gap, Noah’s, and Starbucks. (We tend to forgive Peet’s because they were founded in Berkeley and lots of people knew the man, Alfred Peet.)

Lately I’ve been remembering downtown San Francisco as it was before the tide turned. I loved to go shopping as a kid and teenager because design and retail were connected and, although I didn’t know it then, linked to real people.

If there was a favorite shop, it was Design Research in Ghirardelli Square. A primer on good modern design. I used to fantasize that I lived in that store. Of course, hundreds of people contributed to this shared vision of architect Ben Thompson. There is a fine book by his widow Jane Thompson and design writer Alexandra Lange about the company and the San Francisco store.

I would still buy just about everything they sold! In the late 1960s, Thompson lost control, and over time the store lost its footing. Now the Ghirardelli tourist chocolate emporium has expanded into the downstairs space.

Two shots of D/R San Francisco courtesy Chronicle Books.

Design Research: The Store That Brought 
Modern Living to American Homes ©
by Jane Thompson and Alexandra Lange
Courtesy Chronicle Books

The City of Paris San Francisco’s most magnificent retail building and store was, of course, the City of Paris. Drawing on the design of belle époque retail stores in Paris, Felix Verdier created the finest department store in San Francisco for many generations. It was, in a way, like an early shopping mall, with several vendors selling their wares under one roof, a stained glass roof. In the stained glass roof was the image of the first store, the boat from France that brought goods during the Gold Rush, the Ville de Paris. Beneath the boat was the Latin phrase Fluctuat nec mergitur, which translates as “It floats and never sinks.” That very canopy still exists, somewhat ironically, at the top of the Neiman Marcus rotunda. The rotunda was mostly rebuilt when Neiman replaced the City of Paris store in the early 1980s with that very Texas monstrosity by Philip Johnson, the most chameleon-like of architects. Every year, a beautiful Christmas tree occupied the City of Paris rotunda, which was then located in the center of the store. Although Neiman puts up a tree in the reconstructed space every year, it looks more and more fake.

Courtesy wikipedia.org

The City of Paris demolition, along with the destruction of the Fitzhugh Building on the opposite corner of Union Square, galvanized the preservation community in San Francisco, and many other losses were prevented. But the city lost two anchors on its main outdoor room, and while Union Square prospered, much of its dignity was lost forever. The Saks Fifth Avenue that replaced the Fitzhugh grows blander with each passing year.

Fitzhugh Building

The other family-owned stores all vanished in the second half of the last century: the White House, Ransohoff’s, Livingston Bros., Joseph Magnin, and of course the crown jewel that lasted into the 90s, I. Magnin.

I. Magnin After the City of Paris, my favorite big store was the I. Magnin at Geary and Stockton. By the 1940s, the store was no longer family owned. But it operated independently within the Federated empire until its closure. Also in the 1940s, architect Timothy Pflueger reclad the steel-framed Butler Building—which was under construction at the time of the 1906 earthquake—with a modernist marble façade that looks contemporary today. The air was perfumed, and a middle-class kid could feel posh for an hour or so. For many years, the men’s shop was on the right as you entered the main lobby. When I was a teenager, I loved going to the third floor and walking around the dress circle, where the exclusive women’s clothes were. The haughty sales ladies didn’t bother to say hello, knowing that I wasn’t shopping for my mother or a girlfriend! I didn’t want to be a fashion designer, but I liked the scale of the room, the light, the hush, and a few beautifully curated dresses and coats. Often I wondered what made them different, as I knew nothing about being a seamstress or the nature of fabric. But I was never thrown out, and I could make it my own kind of fantasy world. Then I would go downstairs and buy four bars of that beautiful lanolin soap (photo). The mother of my high school pal Susie Peterson turned me on to the lavender scent. When I. Magnin was closing in the early 1990s, I rushed out and bought several boxes of it. The last bar is now gone.

I. Magnin relocated to its luxurious marble palace
on Union Square in 1948 from and older facility.

Gump’s When Gump’s moved from 248 Post Street eastward, the Asian-eclectic charm vanished. In the old store, I loved the interior decoration department upstairs and the famous jade room; occasionally the gallery had a good show. Around each corner was a surprise. The first floor on the left was reserved for the requisite tourist crap, but everything else had been selected with care. They used to sell those beautiful Palembang chairs that Christopher Isherwood and Don Bachardy had in their home, memorialized forever in David Hockney’s portraits. Another family vision that didn’t last long beyond the family.

Old Gump's

Don Bachardy; Christopher Isherwood
by David Hockney
Courtesy npg.org.uk

Emporium We didn’t shop much at the Emporium, because its suburban branch, Capwell, had a large outpost at our local mall. It was a store for basics, not luxuries. But we did go to the Emporium for the rides on the roof at Christmas after visiting the City of Paris Christmas tree. Would any corporate bigwigs think of putting carnival rides on the roof of their department store in this age? Too much fun. Goes against the brand. Like the city of Paris, the Emporium also featured a central rotunda that was reconstructed when Westfield extended the San Francisco Centre mall behind the Emporium façade. It is odd to look up inside this modern mall and see a relic from the past, much like seeing the City of Paris rotunda preserved in its glass box. Historic elements have been reduced to odd fragments decorating the corporate hegemonic order. They are just political compromises.

Tiffany While Design Research represented casual modern design, Tiffany & Co., located in a narrow store on Grant Avenue in the ground floor of the former White House building, was a jewel box of haute modern. The décor was a collaboration of Tiffany design director Van Day Truex and decorator Billy Baldwin. Van Day Truex’s personal stamp was everywhere in the store. You opened the heavy brass doors and walked down a few steps of sisal carpeting into quiet chic with slipcovered love seats, white table lamps, Bielecky Brothers rattan chairs (adapted by Baldwin from a Jean-Michel Frank design), Parsons tables, and lacquered trolleys filled with beautiful small treasures. It was heaven. Where else did you get to sit down as if you were going to be served tea while your tiny Aalto vase was wrapped in a baby blue box as if it were a Rolex?

The new store on Union Square features a wonderful early Tiffany lamp in the stairway, but as in so many of these places, you can’t feel the individual hand. You can find the great Elsa Peretti, Paloma Picasso, or Frank Gehry designs, but you have to ask. It’s all vaguely luxurious and dull.

One of Billy Baldwin's most famous clients
 used his chairs for Tiffany in her contribution
to The New Tiffany Table Settings.

VC Morris Gift Shop Sometimes change is good. I remember visiting, in high school, the Helga Howie boutique on Maiden Lane by Frank Lloyd Wright, his only building in the city. (He designed some houses outside of San Francisco and, of course, the Marin Civic Center.) When it opened at the VC Morris Gift Shop in 1948, Wright was playing with circular ramps, which would later find its fullest expression at the Guggenheim Museum. By the time I found the shop, Ms. Howie and her husband were selling fancy knitwear and were always courteous to this gawking high schooler. But I can’t say that a high-end dress store really worked in that space. For the last several years, the landmark has been home to an ethnic arts gallery, and it works beautifully for that purpose. There have been at least two significant alterations. The metal security gate compromises the original tunnel-like entrance. And the lights that were embedded in a circular pattern at the entrance are gone. But it’s still the retail gem of Union Square. Frank Lloyd Wright lives; his red chop is still there on the façade.

I don’t mind so many high-rises South of Market, but I do wish the folks who are converting the old phone company building on New Montgomery (again by Timothy Pflueger) would repair the terrible terra cotta work that was done in the last go-around. Instead of following the original brick-like pattern, they introduced a grid. We want to see the mark of the individual, but not if it’s wrong headed! Every day I walk around the city. I look for the sign that a person who cared about urbanity or beauty, whether it is an architect, designer, artist, artisan, chef, or bartender, is still at work holding up the value of the human individual’s contribution. Each time a faceless corporation removes the mark of a person, we lose something beyond the artifact itself.

I’m glad that those folks over at the Palace listened when people spoke up, and I do hope they put the mural back where it belongs. While we like the restored House of Shields saloon, all the hipsters there speak up rather too much, and we can’t hear ourselves!

Some Notes on Mass Customization

A few years ago, I started writing a piece on mass customization. How do well-funded companies make consumers feel like individuals? Recently I was in Palm Springs and wondered, how did the Alexander Company, developer of all those modernist tract homes, figure out this challenge? Most of these small houses (about 1,200 square feet each) had the same plan yet felt unique and even spacious. My friend Jill Pilaroscia, a colorist, has been hired to carefully plan the coloring of new subdivisions in Silicon Valley so homebuyers feel that they are purchasing a unique product. But in this age of advanced algorithms, developers are probably using a great deal more than color and design to make us feel special.

You have to admit, the phrase “mass customization” seems like an oxymoron. Indeed, the concept captures the benefits and drawbacks arising from technology’s evolution. During the industrial revolution, economies of scale in production and distribution led to mass production. Yet the Internet era, with texting, tweeting, and blogging, appears to celebrate the individual voice. Retailers are embracing the concept of mass customization, but how might it apply to the real estate development world?

There are probably all kinds of software that help developers determine where the “heat” is, whether for condo developments or retail centers. But do developers understand that the basic issue is existential in nature? In an era of corporate homogenization, how does the individual feel recognized or seen? Are we all going to be victims of someone who understands us better than we understand ourselves?

Mass customization specifically refers to a process that allows providers of goods and services to enjoy the economies of scale that mass production allows while appearing to customize the product or service to the individual’s preferences. Well-known examples include the Mini Cooper, which allows customers to select options for the automobile they are ordering, and Adidas tennis shoes. Fundamentally, these kinds of customization are limited because they offer predetermined mass-produced products that the consumer can alter slightly. Middlebrow clothing manufacturers such as L.L. Bean, Land’s End, and My Virtual Model allow buyers to customize different outfits for a sense of greater control. Even high-end designers such as Louis Vuitton have also embraced the new technology—at premium prices. Perhaps the most familiar twist has been Amazon’s website, which analyzes browsing and purchasing habits and suggests a book or other product to purchase. It feels custom, although of course it is done entirely by a computer program.

Monogram collection
courtesy louisvuitton.com

Developers and manufacturers can differentiate themselves in a depressed economy by applying ideas drawn from the concept of mass customization. In the simplest of terms, this means listening to consumers and respecting their opinion and their need for individuality. Frank Piller, a German professor and founding faculty member of the MIT Smart Customization Group, wrote on his blog, Mass Customization & Open Innovation News, that attendees at the 2009 Conference on Mass Customization and Personalization (MCPC) see mass customization as the solution to the downturn. This recession differs from the depression of 1929 because there is cash waiting to move. While banks may be restricting lending, wealthy families and individuals are just waiting for real estate prices to drop to even lower levels before they act. This means there will be a new generation of developers, and they will be likely younger and more technologically savvy.

Daniel Schodek, a professor at Harvard and coauthor of the 2004 book Digital Design and Manufacturing: CAD/CAM Applications in Architecture and Design, wrote in some detail about mass customization in the construction products market in a 2005 article for Architecture Week. He brought up the challenge of legality issues, shop drawings, and volume. It’s one thing to modify a high-end handbag, but quite another to alter a window assembly. But this may not be the right scale of intervention. Real estate developers don’t need their clients digging that far into the details, they need more information on basic preferences, which may be more amenable to a process like mass customization.

We have already seen some desire to move away from homogeneity with retail centers moving downtown or becoming pedestrian oriented. The fickle public, glued to rapid visual entertainment, tires of anything gimmicky and wants what it imagines as authentic. However, Berkeley’s famed Fourth Street, studied by retail developers all over, cannot be reproduced in an exurban convergence of highways. With the bankruptcy of major players in the development field, like General Growth, a new generation of land developers will likely arise who are going to be able to cherry-pick preferred demographics and locations and who will begin using new ways of thinking about communicating with their constituencies—perhaps while they are designing.

courtesy fourthstreetshop.com

courtesy fourthstreetshop.com

The obvious opportunity for the development community is in the sale of multifamily housing. Internet sales tools could allow potential buyers to see the views from a unit and the quality of light as well as select various developer finishes and aligned furnishings (such as Design Within Reach or Ethan Allen) to generate an accurate rendering of their potential home.

Single-family home developers have been reluctant to allow their purchasers to select color or alter architectural styles. What would happen if they used new technologies to inform buyers as they began selling homes? Can they move some decisions further along the supply chain in order to partially customize the product and gain valuable information for future projects? In other words, the customer becomes a participant in the design process. According to an article in the MIT Sloan Management Review, when Italian automobile manufacturer Fiat was developing its hip new/old 500 model, it created a forum where thousands of customers commented on the emerging design and engaged in dialog with each other. What if developers reached out to their potential audience in this way before building? There has been some move in the direction of mass customization in Europe and Asia. In Almere, Netherlands, in the early 2000s, district planners created an extension to the city by bringing in more than a dozen builder/architect teams, each assigned the task of creating flexible housing types that would take into account buyer preferences. The idea was that buyers could choose to add or subtract predesigned extensions to their unit. Building regulations did not allow full implementation of the concept, however.

courtesy afewthoughts.co.uk

The next obvious step would be high-end prefabrication that permits several permutations. Might manufactured home companies like Santa Monica–based LivingHomes move into the development business? Philadelphia-based architecture firm KieranTimberlake put forward Cellophane House, included in the New York Museum of Modern Art’s Home Delivery: Fabricating the Modern Dwelling exhibit a few years ago, as a potential model for mass customization of housing. The house’s design is intended to accommodate a variety of options in materials, layout, and size. Likewise, Los Angeles firm Marmol Radziner has come up with its own versions of customizable prefabricated housing that have attracted some press attention. But modifying a few unique houses won’t offer the kind of test that developing an entire community will.

courtesy marmolradzinerprefab.com

courtesy marmolradzinerprefab.com

New developments in technology will allow developers to reach out and gain information about potential clients. For example, Web morphing is a process that allows a site to identify a user’s cognitive styles and adjust the site to adjust to those styles. This may help the developer to both attract the interest of the buyer and also gain information on his or her preferences.

Applying mass customization to real estate development will likely require developers to see a longer horizon and to include feedback from buyers. If new developers are not publically traded companies, they have more flexibility in terms of the timing of returns.

This will require a new mindset, one that understands mass customization first as a process rather than a product. This will likely take place with new actors who bring new ideas to a recovering market. Hopefully, some of them will still want to communicate to individuals.

Postcard from Roosevelt Island, New York

Freedom & Choice

One friend said, “It looks a bit austere.” At first glance, it probably is. But like so many great minimal environments, it asks for patience and generosity. You give, and in turn it gives back.

This is also what the artists Mark Rothko, Richard Serra, Donald Judd, and, more recently, Olafur Eliasson ask. Trust them with your time and you may be rewarded with a small measure of serenity—perhaps even with the connection between art and the divine that Dominique de Menil was so focused on.

Designed by Louis Kahn, the Franklin D. Roosevelt Four Freedoms Park is an outdoor sanctuary at the southern tip of what is now called Roosevelt Island, created as a memorial to FDR. The park opened last fall. Kahn’s gift took 40 years to be realized, but it presents a path for human beings to treat each other to peace.

They couldn’t have been more different: Roosevelt, the Brahmin from Hyde Park, and Kahn, the immigrant from a small Baltic country that endured centuries of foreign rule. And yet they couldn’t have been more similar. Their fundamental vision was a very long one. Roosevelt was trying to save the world for eternity, and Kahn was trying to build places that might transcend time.

This memorial contrasts with Lawrence Halprin’s narrative-heavy memorial to FDR in Washington, D.C. Each memorial celebrates something different. In a city of marble mausoleums, Halprin’s meandering rooms provide an antidote and a history lesson. Across from midtown Manhattan and the U.N., in the middle of the East River, Kahn’s memorial also provides an antidote. A place to pause, revere, and rededicate.

The inscription in the stone is taken from FDR’s famous speech of January 6, 1941:

In the future days, which we seek to make secure, we look forward to a world founded upon four essential human freedoms.

The first is freedom of speech and expression—everywhere in the world.

The second is freedom of every person to worship God in his own way—everywhere in the world.

The third is freedom from want—which, translated into world terms, means economic understandings which will secure to every nation a healthy peacetime life for its inhabitants—everywhere in the world.

The fourth is freedom from fear—which, translated into world terms, means a world-wide reduction of armaments to such a point and in such a thorough fashion that no nation will be in a position to commit an act of physical aggression against any neighbor—anywhere in the world.

That is no vision of a distant millennium. It is a definite basis for a kind of world attainable in our own time and generation.

The inscription reproduced in the new park ends with the word “generation,” omitting the second half of the speech. This truncation must be intentional for reasons beyond space. For example, the phrase, “…and its faith in freedom under the guidance of God” is left out. Perhaps in our secular era, God is left up to the interpretation of each individual.

To achieve these freedoms, we must spend some time alone with ourselves and understand our common purpose. That is what these sequences of spaces can offer everybody.

When the park opened, many of the reviewers wrote about the materials and placement of the stones in the chamber at the conclusion of the journey, a chamber with no roof and the one wall open to the vista out across the water. But the journey to this place of reflection is also worth thinking about. It offers many choices. You can mount the stairs without a clear idea of the conclusion and then proceed down either side of a dramatic allée of trees towards FDR’s statue and the outdoor room. Or you can choose a gentle ramp up the west or east side of the memorial, watching the river but not seeing the destination. All choreographed carefully, but no clear path. I think Kahn’s point is simple. There are different paths to freedom, but we have to choose one and ultimately reckon in some way with ourselves.

Please be sure and check the website for current hours. The park is not open every day.

http://www.fdrfourfreedomspark.org/

Best of 2012

I was going to try and write the Best of 2012 blog in chronological order, because then the images on my Facebook diary could guide me. But that didn’t work, because I had to start with the best thing that happened in 2012!

Favorite Election
The best thing about 2012 was the reelection of Barack Obama. I don’t idolize him, but this was a choice between existence and extinction. I think that deep down, he wants to do what’s right. He understands the needs of the 99% better than any president since FDR. We look forward to the closing of Guantanamo and to gun control! Not to mention general human rights.

Favorite Action in the World
Moving from the global to the personal, I often ask myself, what can be done in the world? The answer is often local and sometimes very personal. Our friends David and Jay began adopting two wonderful kids. We love being around them and got to share in their first Halloween, Christmas, and New Year’s together. What they are doing moves me very deeply.

Favorite Blog
David has been writing about their experience, which leads us to my favorite blog of this year. Reading www.seekingfatherhood.com will make you laugh and cry and renew your faith in human nature.

Favorite Restaurant
This year, we didn’t try many new restaurants. However, I did enjoy St. Vincent in the Mission. No pyrotechnics, but quite good. Big focus on wine.
http://www.stvincentsf.com/about/

Favorite Breakfast Spot in New York
I have eaten at Maialino in Gramercy Park several times for lunch and dinner, but didn’t even know they served breakfast. It’s very close to the apartment where I often stay in New York.

Courtesy maialinonyc.com

Favorite New Hotel (outside US)
Kylesku Hotel in the Scottish Highlands is one of those modest hotels run by people who care. It isn’t luxurious, but the ladies who own it have a simple design sensibility and have hired enthusiastic young folk in the kitchen and dining room. And the view over the lochs is delightfully eerie. We loved it.
http://www.kyleskuhotel.co.uk/www.kyleskuhotel.co.uk/Welcome.html

Favorite New Museum
Piers Art Centre
We also discovered this place on our trip to Scotland. This small museum in Orkney consists of two historic buildings and one new one—all beautifully knit together. We loved the art collection, but also the place.

The institution was created with Margaret Gardiner’s collection. She lived in St. Ives and befriended artists such as Barbara Hepworth, Ben Nicholson, and Patrick Heron. Eventually she bought a place on one of the Orkney Islands. Her son suggested that she donate her collection to the people of Orkney, and this exquisite museum was born. It is located in Stromness right on the water. A must-see on your visit to Orkney when you attend the St. Magnus Festival!
http://www.pierartscentre.com/

Favorite Cathedral and Favorite Music Festival
Speaking of Orkney, we loved the St. Magnus Cathedral, site of Paul’s new work commissioned by the St. Magnus Festival. The cathedral was built in 1137 and belongs to the people of Orkney, not the church. An excellent venue for music and meditation.
http://www.stmagnus.org/
http://www.stmagnusfestival.com/

Favorite New Sculpture Park
Yorkshire Sculpture Park
One of the surprises of our trip to the UK this year. A simple entry building with vast interior sculpture galleries and then hundreds of acres of the Yorkshire countryside filled with modern sculpture. We especially liked the James Turrell piece, of course.

Favorite Writers Retreat
In a world of ambition, it is useful to write for self-exploration. Chris DeLorenzo leads workshops that nurture. On a whim, I went to his retreat in Puerto Vallarta in January, and, to borrow a phrase from the human potential movement, it was transformational. Not only did I find out things about myself, but I also learned to let go of judgment—well, a little. He also holds one-day retreats throughout the year.
http://www.laguna-writers.com/

Favorite Masseur
My pals David and Yosh suggested Mark Haviland, who comes to David’s office for chair massages and also has a private clientele. He has been fantastic. He is guided by something different than most of us. He is now off to India and Africa to share his gifts with those who might not otherwise enjoy them. He will be back in March!
beyondbodywork@gmail.com

Favorite New Memorial
Louis Kahn’s design survived intact for 40 years. It is sublime. There will be a full post in the near future. In the meantime:
http://www.fdrfourfreedomspark.org/

Favorite New Beach
I finally got to Fire Island Pines at 54. I wasn’t the oldest guy on the beach, but.… The restaurants aren’t good, but the long walks along boardwalks and the endless sand and warm ocean make it a perfect place to forget the world. Although the Pines suffered some damage in Hurricane Sandy, no houses were lost. Fire Island isn’t an island at all, but just a sand bar that will disappear one day.

Favorite Art Exhibit
The Matisse show at the Metropolitan reminds me how radical he was. It’s there through the middle of March.
http://www.metmuseum.org/exhibitions/listings/2012/matisse

Courtesy metmuseum.org

Favorite New Retail
Speaking of David and Yosh, the best new retail isn’t quite retail. It’s more like an experiment. David and Yosh have opened something called Storefront Lab. They are changing the world one retail idea at a time.
http://www.storefrontlab.org/

Favorite Fashion Show
Last year it was Alexander McQueen in New York. While not as radical or lavish, Jean Paul Gaultier’s show at the de Young Museum was like a long wonderful dream.
http://deyoung.famsf.org/deyoung/exhibitions/fashion-world-jean-paul-gaultier-sidewalk-catwalk

Favorite Diary
Last year it was The Sixties: Diaries 1960–1969 by Christopher Isherwood. This year it is the next volume, covering 1970 to 1983. The title is Liberation. A good theme for 2013.
http://www.randomhouse.com.au/books/christopher-isherwood/liberation-diaries-vol-3-9780701184490.aspx

Courtesy randomhouse.com

Favorite Evolving Design-Related Online Magazine
Architizer has a new editor, Jenna McKnight, and is adding more content every week. Check it out.
http://www.architizer.com/en_us/

Favorite Old Retail Emporium
Placewares in Gualala captures all that was great about design retailing in the 1960s—Design Research! No surprise, given that the owners, Maynard and Lu Lyndon, were at D/R before founding their own company back in Boston. Next to Sea Ranch, they sell all the right stuff for your Sea Ranch house, including loads of Marimekko! It’s no wonder they get the Sea Ranch aesthetic—Maynard’s brother Donlyn was one of the original architects and also designed Maynard and Lu’s cool house.
www.placewares.com

Favorite House at Sea Ranch
Speaking of Sea Ranch, I am writing this from Barry Elbasani’s recently completed house at Sea Ranch. He bought the lot back in the 1960s and talked about designing this house ever since I met him in 1990. He never saw it finished, but I think he would be thrilled.

Happy New Year! Hoping for more good change in 2013.