Leah Evans’ Map Quilts

Congregation

Leah Evans is a Wisconsin artist who works with textiles to create impressions of landscapes. She studies mapping conventions and then recreates imagined places in these beautiful wall hangings. She uses many techniques in each piece including appliqué, piecing, dying, needle-felting, and a number of embroidery stitches. I love the variety of the images she makes, even though they all still relate back to the same theme of the map.

Red Lock System

These images so inspiring—I love textiles, and use printed fabric in some of my own paintings. If you read my blog often you know I travel regularly, flying over the western states to Los Angeles for work. These textiles remind me of those aerial images I hold in mind when I’m working on some of my own paintings.

Pivotal Irrigation

Winter Isolation in Utah

Escalante National Monument from Hwy 12. Photo by Matt McGrath.

Southern Utah. Isolation. Silence. Primitive beauty. The experience of this place is simultaneously one of life and death. I lose my breath. A human life is so small, so insignificant, in a place like this. Yet somehow it is also larger than life, so connected, so at peace, so at one with all else that exists.

We stayed at the Boulder Mountain Lodge in a tiny enclave called Boulder, Utah. The road we took to reach the location was first paved as recently as 1985. We figured it is about a three hour drive from any busy town, and even these towns would be considered small by most: Moab, Cedar City, or Richfield. This is exactly the way we like to spend our holidays, enjoying each other’s company without the distractions and chaos of the season’s crowds.

Snowshoe tracks in Dixie National Forest. Photo by Matt McGrath.

This place is busier in the warmer months, when hoards (relatively speaking) of people drive with their families from one national park to the next: Zion, Bryce, Capitol Reef, and Arches. But here in December, perhaps two or three cars mosey down the road each hour, accompanied by wild turkeys and deer who look on indifferently. There are no restaurants open here at this time of year. We had to bring all our food with us for our week of solitary enjoyment in Escalante National Monument.

Boulder Creek Canyon. You can see about 90 miles off into the distance.

Calf Creek Canyon.

Two pine trees in Dixie National Forest.

I Dreamt of Things...

I dreamt that Matt and I were outrunning some gang-bangers in my dad’s light green 1974 Dodge Dart Swinger. For some reason the gas pedal was really far away and I had to streeeeeeeetch to reach it.

Paul Klee Paintings & Happy Birthday

Parnassum, detail.

I thought today would be a great day to celebrate the work of Paul Klee, since he was born on December 18, 1879, exactly 95 years before I was born. Happy Birthday!

Paul Klee was of German/Swiss descent. He is most known for his study and understanding of color theory, and he wrote extensively about it. He wrote, “Colour has taken possession of me; no longer do I have to chase after it, I know that it has hold of me forever... Colour and I are one. I am a painter.”

Garden.

Klee taught at the famous Bauhaus school of art and architecture, which has now evolved into the Institute of Design at Illinois Institute of Technology. The Bauhaus school originated in Germany and moved to Chicago in the 1930s to avoid Nazi disapproval. The school influenced developments in art and design throughout the first half of the 20th century.

He was deeply inspired by music, and reciprocally, his work has inspired musicians. Rainer Maria Rilke wrote about Klee in 1921, “Even if you hadn’t told me he plays the violin, I would have guessed that on many occasions his drawings were transcriptions of music.”

Ancient sound.

On a completely visceral level, Klee’s paintings are beautiful, spiritual compositions that leave my heart aflutter. But I’m also intrigued by his work as an academic student of design and color. I also live on that line between art and design, and appreciate the interrelationship of a variety of creative expressions.

Word of the Week — CUPOLA

Cupola by Piero Lissoni

Each week, I close my eyes and choose a random word from the dictionary. I then do an image search for that word online, and choose some of the most interesting, unusual, and unexpected results to share with you.

Cupola brooch by Sergey Jivetin
This design is created using nothing but hands from watches.

Judith Leiber Cupola Minaudiere. $2995 at Neiman Marcus.

I Dreamt of Things...

I dreamt that I was trying to speak with a couple people at a yoga studio. I had just eaten a piece of candy that one of them gave me. The candy kept getting bigger and stickier in my mouth, which caused quite a bit of difficulty as I tried to communicate.

Earlier Cranbrook Shows

Here are some images from Cranbrook Degree Shows of earlier years:

I think this was done using a laser cutter. I am determined to have access to a laser cutter at some point in the near future.

Was this also done using a laser cutter?

Cranbrook Graduate Show 2008

I love this... Pattern on pattern, repurposed and loud, yet somehow blending together homogeneously.

I can’t sleep tonight, so I’ve been looking around online. I found someone’s Flickr collection of images from the 2008 Cranbrook Degree Show. Since Cranbrook is my alma mater (MFA 2-d Design), I am always interested to see what’s going on up there. The Flickr images don’t have any credits for the work, which is kind-of a bummer.

I’m not sure why, but over the past months (years?), I’ve found more inspiration looking at the work coming out of disciplines other than design. That’s not to say there aren’t interesting things going on within my own discipline, but there’s something special about studying a variety of visual ideas.

As designers, perhaps it’s even more essential that we become curious about everything around us.

Is this some sort of representation of a 19th-Century massage table, or torture device? I can’t tell.

I’m not sure how I feel about this one. There’s something appealing about it (the colors? the repetition?), but yet somehow it's simultaneously off-putting.

I Dreamt of Things...

I dreamt that I was attacked by a big black raven in a small, dark, musty, old staircase with faded blue carpeting.

Perhaps this dream came to me because I mentioned to Matt last night as we watched the Baltimore Ravens in a football game, “They are called the Ravens because Edgar Allen Poe lived in Baltimore.” Matt replied, “Uh-huh.”

Word of the Week — HERALD

Each week, I close my eyes and choose a random word from the dictionary. I then do an image search for that word online, and choose some of the most interesting, unusual, and unexpected results to share with you.

My New Small Paintings

Wave. 5.5 x 4 inches. Ink and Acrylic on Paper.

I’ve been working on a variety of new projects, and (as promised) would like to share a few of my favorite recent small paintings with you. Please visit my Etsy site to purchase prints. I hope you like them.

Moon Light. 9.5 x 7 inches. Ink and Acrylic on Paper.

Bulb. 7 x 9.5 inches. Ink and Acrylic on Paper.

Word of the Week — LIP

Each week, I close my eyes and choose a random word from the dictionary. I then do an image search for that word online, and choose some of the most interesting, unusual, and unexpected results to share with you.

Terry Winters’ Drawings & Paintings

Point

Terry Winters is known for his drawings, paintings, and prints. He was born in Brooklyn in 1949. What I love about his work is its diversity of style and medium... He is inspired by anatomic and biological forms, as well as the geometries of architecture. I love the varied color palettes he uses and I’m always moved by work that celebrates human imperfection.

Red Group 8

Computational Architecture

Morula III

Los Angeles Architecture Tour

On Thursday, a few of my colleagues from FIDM and myself went on an architectural tour of Los Angeles. It was awe-inspiring!

The first building we visited was the new CalTrans building in downtown LA. I loved that the architect, Thom Mayne of Morphosis, chose to use mostly building materials that are associated with transportation infrastructure, and allowed these materials to become sculptural elements that are raised to the level of art... whereas these features are often simply functional and go unnoticed in their original environments on freeways and overpasses, etc. This building is located at the intersection of 100 Main Street and 100 First Street in downtown, so the huge (4-story) number really becomes a great landmark.

After the CalTrans building, we saw the 19th century Bradbury Building, also in downtown. The interior of the Bradbury building was like a very ornamental Escher drawing, with staircases floating through the interior. I also loved the elevator shafts that were out in the open, with amazing decorative iron work. My photos didn't really come out, because it was too dark in the space...

Later, we visited Richard Neutra’s home in Silverlake, which was in terrible disrepair. I was disappointed, actually... but then we were able to see Neutra’s masterpiece, the Lovell Health House (above), where the current owner/occupant showed us around. The funniest thing about it was when we walked in, many of us immediately recognized it as Pierce Pratchett’s house in the movie LA Confidential.

After lunch, we drove to Santa Monica, where we were able to snoop around the exterior of the house where Frank Gehry currently lives. Pictured is the area where the dining room is located. You could see the original Dutch Colonial home underneath all the geometric protrusions and additions that jut out from the original structure.

We also visited the Case Study House #8, the house built and lived-in by Charles and Ray Eames in Pacific Palisades. The house is left exactly as it was when Ray Eames passed away in the 1980s. They wouldn’t allow us to take photos of the interiors... but the contradiction of the interior space to the exterior is what I found most interesting. The boxy, clean modernist style of the construction was juxtaposed against a multitude of items and nic-nacks that cluttered the house.

Mari Andrews Sculpture & Drawings

Plexus. Color softground etching on
Hosho paper coated in beeswax. 1998.

Mari Andrews is a California artist who is inspired by her lifelong passion for drawing and collecting to create small sculptures built from wire, pine needles, branches, and other linear materials. Many times her small sculptures are grouped together on a large gallery wall in a narrative way.

I’m inspired by this work’s simplicity. I appreciate the imperfections in the materials, the compositions are so natural and have a spontaneity that is refreshing. As a graphic designer, it’s so difficult to make work that seems effortless, whether it’s in my commercial work or my paintings, so that makes Ms. Andrews’ work that much more impressive!

These are beautiful!

Imbricate. Color softground etching on
Hosho paper coated in beeswax. 1998.

Untitled 1318. Baseball and wire. 2006.

Untitled 1216. Wire and tree moss. 2003.

Dusk in Los Angeles

I was in Los Angeles a couple weeks ago, and completely forgot to download some of my photos until now... Matt and I got lucky and scored a room on the top floor of the hotel, just across the street from the new L.A. Live complex and Staples Center. I opened the curtains at dusk to begin my yoga practice, but instead I was stunned by the beauty of the scene out the window.

Word of the Week — NUMB

Autumn leaves

Each week, I close my eyes and choose a random word from the dictionary. I then do an image search for that word online, and choose some of the most interesting, unusual, and unexpected results to share with you.

Polar Bear

Book Cover for The Good Soldier: A Tale of Passion

Stella Im Hultberg, Numb. 6x8 inches. Graphite & Ink Wash on Paper.

Photo from deviantart.com

Strip Mining Conundrum

Every time I fly from Colorado to Los Angeles, I’m always fascinated by the aerial views of the western landscape. Desert valleys are often surrounded by snowy peaks, dry riverbeds and washes streak across the land creating spectacular webs of light and shadow as far as the eye can see. Canyons slice into the earth, and rock formations protrude upward toward the sky. I’ve been working on a series of paintings that are inspired by these wonderful aerial views over the American west.

Yesterday, I came across these aerial photographs of strip mining in the Nevada desert, posted by a geologist in Arizona. I think there is something quite paradoxical about them, which is why I wanted to show them to you. Of course, we need natural resources to support human civilization. I don’t know anything about mining or geology, but my intuition says that this type of mining can’t possibly be good, or even neutral, for the environment. My rational mind tells me that there has to be another way to extract these essential resources from the earth without completely ripping up the land and poisoning what little water is available there.

On the other hand, as I look at these images, I’m struck by their beauty. There is something quite graphic about the way the mining process leaves large steps leading down into the earth. The light and shadows bounce over the landscape in beautiful organic shapes, and the earthtones radiate into the atmosphere. I’m especially in awe of the image above, where geometric farming plots abut the edge of the mine property. I wonder about the environmental and health implications of that.

Somehow I’m still inspired by the scale and beauty of these places, despite what I know must be horrible for the local land, plants, and animals. . . Not to mention what kinds of effects there are on the human residents of the area. I have no idea.