links for 2009-04-21

links for 2009-04-20

1,725 browser tabs

I tend to read too much online, surfing idly, reading industry publications, spawning legions of browser tabs, skimming things, saving things for later and never coming back to them. My ability to read long pieces gradually atrophies, and time that could have otherwise been used for creation is, well, consumed by consumption. In an effort to bring my habit to the surface and get on top of it, I decided to tally by hand every browser tab I closed until I had a page's worth.

1,725 browser tabs closed, 12 Feb - 19 Mar 09

Well, I read a fair few web pages between 12th February and 19th March, but as it turned out, half of those were spent in work's ticket-tracking website. But still, 1,700+ of them.

Did the manual tallying work? Initially, yes. But then I began to sense that I risked adding a new habit that would amplify the original one: it was starting to become a game of feed the tally-list, a delicious chore-ladder. It's like that thing of putting items on your todo list that you've already done, so you can have a tiny and immediate quantum of un-deferred GTD-pleasure of ticking them off. (I do that too sometimes.)

So I've stopped doing the tallying now, and am reading a bit less. And I have started writing a little bit more.

The file-burning stove

One technique for managing paperwork that's fairly common in productivity circles is the Noguchi filing system, in which files are always re-filed on the left of a shelf. This results in a gradient of freshness, with old or stale files naturally sorting themselves to the right, whence they can be discarded or permanently archived.

It's a nice system, but the archiving/discarding triage takes such effort doesn't it? Once those files have made their way to the back or the bottom of the filing cabinet, wouldn't it be nice if your filing system automatically and judiciously took care of that for you.

File-burning stove
And kept you warm.

Postmodern is not dead: Altermodern

Tate Britain's Altermodern is a mixed bag. Some of it is great. Darren Almond's full-moon long-exposures in China are beautiful (he's always good), and Tacita Dean's photogravures of shipwrecks and war landscapes reportage are lovely novelistic storyboards.

Tacita Dean Ship of Death 2001

Mike Nelson's The Projection Room (Triple Bluff Canyon) (2004) installation slowly draws you in by presenting an obsessive's study, every detail placed precisely. Gustav Metzger's Liquid Crystal Environment is a remake of a 1965 piece that uses liquid crystals and rotating polarising filters to create a mesmeric/brain-washing kaleidoscope. For a moment it looked like we'd lost Antimega to a chroma-coma.

Charles Avery The Hunter's Cabin 2004

The find of the show is an excellent draughtsman, Charles Avery - his drawings have the confident graphic line of comics, and his island world is an interesting story machine. He's like a cross between Paul Noble and Barry McGee. One to watch much more closely.

Charles Avery Untitled (Ceci n'est pas un bar) 2008

Some of it is very poor: Franz Ackermann, Spartacus Chetwynd, Marcus Coates, Rachel Harrison... tiresome. And some of it is in between: Simon Starling's second- to fourth-generation copies of a desk Francis Bacon made - ok, but as with antiques you get only so far with repro furniture. Nathaniel Mellors's excremental installation raises a chuckle. Subodh Gupta has a striking borderland mushroom cloud of stainless steel domestic implements.

The theoretical underpinning is confusing though. Here are three of Bourriaud's descriptions of "altermodern". On the show's website, behind a friendly EXPLAIN button, is a manifesto:

POSTMODERNISM IS DEAD

A new modernity is emerging, reconfigured to an age of globalisation – understood in its economic, political and cultural aspects: an altermodern culture

Increased communication, travel and migration are affecting the way we live

Our daily lives consist of journeys in a chaotic and teeming universe

Multiculturalism and identity is being overtaken by creolisation: Artists are now starting from a globalised state of culture

This new universalism is based on translations, subtitling and generalised dubbing

Today’s art explores the bonds that text and image, time and space, weave between themselves

Artists are responding to a new globalised perception. They traverse a cultural landscape saturated with signs and create new pathways between multiple formats of expression and communication.

The Tate Triennial 2009 at Tate Britain presents a collective discussion around this premise that postmodernism is coming to an end, and we are experiencing the emergence of a global altermodernity.

Second, altermodern as translation and trajectory:

characterised by translation, unlike modernism of the twentieth century, which spoke the abstract language of the colonial West, and postmodernism, which encloses artistic phenomena in origins and identities [...] This evolution can be seen in the way works are made: a new type of form is appearing, the journey-form, made of lines drawn in time and space, materialising trajectories rather than destinations.

Thirdly, as post-historicist era:

Altermodernism can be defined as that moment when it became possible for us to produce something that made sense starting from an assumed heterochrony, that is, from a vision of human history as constituted of multiple temporalities, disdaining the nostalgia for the avant-garde and indeed for any kind of era - a positive vision of chaos and complexity.

(Oh and there are some more here, critiqued.) So Bourriaud proclaims that the post-modern era has ended, and been replaced by a post- (or is it hyper-?)globalisation, anti-commercial, post-geographic, post-historic ("heterochronic"), rootless, nomadic altermodernism. And this is the bit that confuses me: if the theoretical positioning is an attempt to confidently stake out a new territory and era, wouldn't that gesture immediately undermine the claim that the altermodern sweeps aside specificities of space and history? But perhaps I don't understand it - my art-theory synapses are atrophied. Maybe I should read Bourriaud's Relational Aesthetics or his new book Radicant (whose organising metaphor is surely a rhizomous echo of D&G?).

Most of the show doesn't look like a new new thing, which is the other thing complicating the claim to a different trajectory.

Charles Avery Untitled Bourriaud 2008

Afterwards, we nipped around the Drawing show. Some lovely stuff: Blake's Flea, a tiny Cozens landscape, this Tyson facing three Nobles in a room, a lovely Bill Jacklin.... great stuff.

250m between

An October 2008 revision to the tube map adds a few distance markers to the map. It's 250m between White City on the Central line and Wood lane on the Hammersmith & City. And to the right, 100m between Shepherd's Bush Central line and overland. There's a similar thing at Canary Wharf Jubilee line: it's 200m from Canary Wharf DLR and 150m from Heron Quays DLR. I particularly like the angle they're drawn at - like an elegant version of the walklines I was trying out a long time ago.

250m, 100m walklines (nice angles)

But this isn't quite so successful: there's 100m between West Hampstead overland and West Hampstead Jubilee line, and the latter also has a comment that West Hampstead Thameslink is 200m away from the tube. The tube map used to simply show the tube and overland stations as a single node on the map, which I think was better.

Previously: Tube Map with walklines showing when it's quicker to walk. See also Walk the Tube to get healthy, Walkers Tube Map and Adjacent stations.

We're hiring a BlackBerry/.Net developer in Brighton

We're hiring a developer to build mobile software products that help police forces and other government orgs communicate quicker/better. Messaging, photos, maps, presence, ajax, compliance, etc. Technically, it's generally BlackBerry J2ME mobile client and ASP.Net web/backend. More details on the role here.

We do scrum. We are nice people and have a shiny office in the middle of Brighton.

We're also looking for a good QA person in Brighton.

Ping us with your story at hello at mobbu dot com.

Books in 2008

Books by colour, blurred

I read 50 books this year, fewer than in the years before. Notably these:

  • Audrey Niffenegger's The Time Traveler's Wife, 2003 - a rather beautiful and moving novel on memory, anticipation and loss.
  • Dave Hickey's Air Guitar, 1997 - Hickey is funny and provocative on music, art and aesthetics, lightly excavating truths that, once they're in front of your eyes, feel utterly self-evident.
  • Ian Fleming's James Bond books, 1953-66 - as a body these comprise a great double-portrait of Fleming the self-exiled, nostalgic author and his self-loathing, consumption-addicted and often incapacitated character Bond.
  • James Wood's How Fiction Works, 2008 - like Hickey, Wood is a great handler of words. As a critic he's sometimes accused of privileging psychological realism above all else, though the last sections of his book address this fairly directly.
  • JM Coetzee's Disgrace, 1999 - extraordinary and pessimistic post-colonial novel of relationships tested, torn and abused, of the costs of wielding power, of cultural and gendered difference.

Going forward I plan to consume ever fewer books, and instead to create more writing, art, and other stuff.

(Elsewhere in 2008: Matt Webb's, many others', and books I wish I'd read.)

History painting permutations

Keith Tyson's 2004 project History Paintings comprised fifteen paintings, each with 49 vertical strips of powder-coated aluminium in black, red and green - the colours of a roulette wheel (Tyson has always liked gambling). The three larger ones are reconfigured each time they're shown. The dozen smaller ones are tied to the months of the year. Michael Archer (of both Ruskin and Guardian) wrote: "In their bringing together of time, geography and randomness, the History Paintings address the question of how the individual relates to, participates in and attempts to make sense of historical events." I'm not quite feeling that, much preferring his scrappier drawing work from years previous, but they look ok.

Keith Tyson: History Painting, 2008 (Hackney)

(An aside: "history painting" generally presents man at the centre of the universe in order to yoke scenes of historic, religious or mythic narrative to an intellectual or moral message. Joshua Reynolds prescribed something "in the action, or in the object, in which men are universally concerned, and which powerfully strikes upon the publick sympathy [...] the painting of man". It was usually done in a grand, heroic, archetypal style. Félibien and the Académie française had identified it as the grand genre of painting among a list of others: history, portrait, genre (scenes of everyday life), landscapes, and, last, still-life. The hierarchy gets killed off with Impressionism in the 1860s. Anyway.)

A couple of days ago, Tyson did a spin-off (or spin of the wheel, we might say) project with The Guardian: a free edition of 5,000 pdf files, each delivered to the website visitor as a customised file. The arrangement of the coloured strips is partly determined by the location typed into Tyson's website: you can't tell if each is unique, or merely potentially-unique. Once experienced as the flat colour of a downloaded PDF file on your desktop - rather than as photographs of aluminium - the image hints at the bureaucratic ephemera of public transport and tube diagrams.

Duchamp: Monte Carlo Bond, 1924

Another aside: they immediately recall Duchamp's imitated/rectified readymade Monte Carlo Bond of 1924: an unfinished collaboration between Duchamp, his alter ego Rrose Sélavy and Man Ray, an art-financial work that parodied company stock certificates and speculative get-rich-quick schemes. "The annual income is derived from a cumulative system which is experimentally based on one hundred thousand rolls of the ball; the system is the exclusive property of the Board of Directors" its verso proclaims. Of course, it never achieved his aim of breaking the bank at Monte Carlo. Later editions of the same work sometimes come up: here's one of the 1938 edition for $4,000.

Keith Tyson: History Painting, 2008 (Brighton)

What value has an art work that was free, is potentially unique, was distributed first-come-first-served, and in the form of a digital file with no physical instance? (on which topic, Danny Birchall reminds us that reproducability at zero marginal cost comes more naturally to the internet than does the concept of inherent value via the limited edition.) At the time of writing, some of them have gone onto Flickr (where they will hopefully be geotagged), and sellers on Ebay value them in the £101,000 range, though none have bids yet. And there's a Facebook group that aims "to create a piece of crowd sourced internet art with the community of winners that we can gift back to Keith Tyson". (My own view is that if the resident artist doesn't like them, we might stick them in the office.)

Regardless of the dubious value of trying to dubiously value the art, one thing is immediately clear: in a reversal of casino logic, we value the rarity of the green stripe: 0, house wins.

See also: Danny Birchall's Unlimited.

How we work: Jorn Utzon, architect

Utzon, the architect responsible - with Arup - for one of the world's most recognisable buildings, was happy to draw anywhere:

Utzon rarely used a sketchbook, but would draw on anything that was available. He drew the initial plan for an art museum at Silkeborg, in Denmark, with poured salt on a restaurant table in Sydney, which he then photographed with a borrowed camera. The design was based on Buddhist caves he had visited near the Gobi Desert, but the museum was never built.

Another friend recalled Utzon using a charred stick on a pavement to sketch the cross-section of a cave-room he had seen in China, which was to form the basis for his design for a new house; sadly the sketch was washed away by a thunderstorm that same night.

From the same article:

It was thanks to the architect Eero Saarinen that Utzon, much to his surprise, won the competition to build the opera house in 1957. Saarinen appeared late, after several entries had already been assessed, to find Utzon’s scheme among those already rejected. He pulled it out and returned to the jury announcing: “Gentlemen, this is the first prize.”


See also: Calatrava, Niemeyer. More How we work.

How we work: Felipe Massa, Formula 1 driver

Perhaps, after his somewhat unlucky end to the 2007-08 season, Mass has retired his Y-fronts:

When Felipe Massa rolls out of bed on Sunday morning and starts preparing for the biggest race of his life, he will slip into the lucky white underpants which have been a constant travel companion since his first grand prix victory in Turkey in 2006. This weekend, at the Brazilian grand prix, he will need them more than ever.

"These pants have 10 victories and 14 pole positions," Massa said in Sao Paulo this week. "It's time to retire them. Who knows, if I am champion maybe I'll put them to rest."


See also: Jensen Button and Fernando Alonso. More How we work.

All that is solid melts into lair

(Never apologise for weak puns when writing about Bond.)

It was very annoying to notice the Ken Adam discussion with Christopher Frayling at the V&A too late to attend, but it sounds like it was good. In Who Stole My Volcano? Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Dematerialisation of Supervillain Architecture, Matt Jones noted that Frayling (his book on Adam is very good) commented in passing that "the modern Bond villain (and he might have added, villains in pop culture in general) is placeless, ubiquitous, mobile".

Matt entertainingly explores the idea of the grand architectural gestures - under-volcano bunkers, sub-swallowing ships and other "gantries and Baroque" - de-materialising and dispersing into networks, mobile phones, briefcases, go-bags, spreadsheets, etc. And perhaps also into the sports franchises and art objects so loved of those who are as rich as supervillains. It's good stuff.

But a problem remains for the film-maker: how to show us multiplicity, power and scale (Mr White in Quantum of Solace: "we are everywhere") - and how to do it with Adamian grandeur and spectacle - in a world whose secret mountain redoubts and dark-side moon bases have been somewhat disappointingly replaced by the physical objects of ubiquitous computing and the ubiquitous metaphoric objects of power...

So satellite imagery abounds, and those terse-but-narratively-essential phone calls beloved of 24 get added to the mix. The villain becomes the panopti-cratic eye; you see much re-working of the conspiracy thrillers of the 70s - Enemy of the State, Bourne passim. And, picking up on Dan's work on wi-fi shapes in public spaces,  the use of menacing penumbral aurae would have been a more effective visualisation than the distracting touch-table that M16 toy with. But more is required. Plot also drives forward quickly, the edit is much faster - see Bourne, and the godfather of the edit, Murch the gun-slinger.)

One solution in the Quantum of Solace film isn't bad - the many members of the villainous organisation conduct a board meeting hidden in plain view in the audience of an opera, its set a monstrous eye staring at them. They mutter managerially about logistics and financing on earpieces, and Bond's immediate job is to reveal them against the camouflaging ground of hundreds of fellow evening-weared Euro-elites. It's the best sequence of a good film, though it's a little disappointing that both Bond and the villains are disciplined enough not to be distracted by the opera they're attending.

Though they're often sneered at these days, you could argue that the use of gadgets in previous Bond films represented an acknowledgement of this globalising, dispersing effect: Q is everywhere, Bond in some sense became his magnetised watches, exploding pens and performative quips. But the books didn't go in for gadgets much, and generally the Quantum of Solace film also turns away from these and back toward the architectural. Steve Rose notes that the recent films have seen Bond visit and destroy as much villain-architecture as ever ("The villains are the creators; Bond is the destroyer. He's basically an enemy of architecture"), and suggests this can be traced back to Fleming's difficulties with Modernist architects.

Previously:

Frieze and crash

Martin Westwood at The Approach

We are at Frieze, looking at an excess of art and spectators. We will see a couple of thousand works in the space of a two or three hours - this plenitude means that the works that are visually arresting are necessarily privileged as we scan the corridors. This is no bad thing though: having mulled on Phil Gyford's question about the opacity of art and artists, I'd have to say that the intentions and ideas of the artist and the wider context of the art work don't really matter unless there's an aesthetic response first. You have to like looking at it, or experiencing it.

Generally it felt as if there was a retreat to safer, more saleable work from name artists (though not much from the old school names of the 50s and so on). Fewer monstrous installations. Lots of paintings and easily installable work. Less video than in previous years. Tillmans, Shrigley, Ruff et al at multiple galleries.

Lots of photographs, but too many porny ones. Lots of painting, much of which has either strongly representational elements together with the abstract, or representation appearing to operate at large and small scales. But too much faux-naif painting. Quite a few works which comprised aggregations of smaller framed pieces, some of which were signed, faked celebrity photos. There's a resurgence of coloured pencil drawing, perhaps displacing monchromatic trend of the last few years (it's very foolish to attempt trends from a single show).

The media are (finally) in no doubt that the art market is in trouble. The Art Newspaper reported sales down and buyers haggling in its free daily at Frieze, and auctions since Damien Hirst's celebrated £95m Sotheby's sale in September have been getting low bids. Speculation in young artists is over. UBS head of art banking: "Every gallery and auction house is trying to leverage quality". Small dealers are feeling the pinch, large dealers are getting squeezed by auction houses. Interesting times. Despite the exodus to the private sector in the last couple of years, will there be a return to power for public museums, curators and critics?

My photos are here. These are the ones I liked the most:

Martin Westwood at The Approach

The Approach's space was brilliant: Martin Westwood, John Stezaker et al. Westwood is new to me, and very strong: assemblages of drawing, collage, sculture, cut paper, iconography of 1980s corporate culture. I need to come back to Westwood, but in the meantime: at The Approach, Strange Flowers, Art Now at the Tate, Approach show 2007.

Sea Hyun Lee? at Gagosian

Sea Hyun Lee at Gagosian (well, it looks like Sea Hyun Lee but Gagosian annoyingly don't identify their artists). Paul Noble at Maureen Paley. Peter Peri (as ever) at Carl Freedman. Darren Almond at Matthew Marks - the thing about Almond is that his work is always solid.

Leslie Shows at Jack Hanley

Leslie Shows (painting and collage) and Ajit Chauhan (ink drawings) at Jack Hanley. Also, Ged Quinn at Wilkinson. Felix Gmelin at Vilma Gold had some beautiful atomic explosions in clay. Thomas Bayrle at Barbara Weiss anthropomorphises graphs and data. Dr Lakra at Kate MacGarry.

Previously: Year_07, Zoo 2007, Frieze 2006, Frieze 2005, and Sandpaper for the eye: Frieze 2004, London.

Maintenance, or the keeping of too much at hand, having delivered too much

The crossed tools of maintenance

Henry VII passed a law against "maintenance", the keeping at hand of too many male "servants" - contracted men-at-arms, private armies financially retained by powerful noblemen in the power vacuum after the Wars of the Roses. (The word maintenance derives from the Latin manu tenere, to hold in the hand, ie: to keep in a condition of effective functional condition: keeping at hand functionally.)

The visual evidence of this surplus and illegal retainer was the overuse of a nobleman's livery (whereas the visual evidence these days of maintenance, seems to be a spanner - a tool rather than an emblem). In legal terms at least - "retaining", "livery" and "maintenance" seem to have had the same meaning. And the term livery derives from the French livrée, meaning delivered: typically the object or a servant/messenger bore the livery of the noble that owned, retained or had sent them.

Thus maintenance would become a punishment for delivery, which may be a hollow joke for some of us working in technology. And every now and then, when reading contracts, I would like to follow Henry VII's lead and pass a law against maintenance.

Policing news; BlackBerry management tips

The Cabinet Office is providing £75m to get 25,000 mobile devices in the hands of police officers, the funding being managed by the National Policing Improvement Agency. It's quite hard to find consistent coverage of the story in the mainstream press, so we're tracking the story on the Mobbu blog as it unfolds:

And Alex is starting to post some useful tips on device and application management with BlackBerry Enterprise Manager:

London Art fairs in October 2008

And just like that, another year comes round and it's art fair week in London again. The big story is that it's getting tough for the satellite fairs - three haven't returned (Year09 being a particular shame), though there are now some free fairs filling the gaps. So here's a map of the art fairs in London in October 2008.


View Larger Map

Zoo
Now a well-established fair, Zoo looked better last year than Frieze's (so if you're short of time, this will be a good bet). Exhibitors list is here.
Fri 17-Mon 20 Oct, 12-8pm (12-5pm on Mon), £12.
At the Royal Academy, 6 Burlington Gardens, W1S 3EX (the entrance will be from the Burlington Gardens side).
Nearest tube: Piccadilly Circus, Green Park.

Frieze
This is a monster of a show (you could spend a day here) and it gets super-crowded at the weekend so try go on Thursday or Friday. The exhibitors list is here, and the talk/projects programme here. The bookshop always has good deals. Rodcorp at previous at Friezes: 2004, 2005, 2006.
Thurs 16-Sun 19 Oct, 11am-7pm (11am-6pm on Sun), £20.
In Regent's Park, entrance from Outer Circle.
Nearest tube: Great Portland St, Regent's Park, Baker St.

Free Art Fair
Jasper Joffe and friends return with the art fair "where all the work is given away at the end".
Mon 13 - Sun 19 Oct, 11-6pm, free.
5, 8, and 16 Seymour Place, Portman Village, W1H

And there are a bunch of others, though I doubt I'll make it to them:

Scope
This year (at last), Scope's website has some useful details. Galleries showing. It's across the park from Frieze.
Fri 17-Sun 19 Oct, 11am-8pm (12am-6pm on Sun), £15.
At Lord's Cricket Ground, St John's Wood Road, NW8
Nearest tube: Baker Street, St John's Wood, Warwick Avenue, Marylebone.

New!: Kounter Kulture
A new fair in Brick Lane. The artist roster looks like it leans toward that slick, decorative, often figurative, gothic/urban/folksy school "sprouting from and largely influenced by visual subcultures".
Wed 15 - Sun 19 Oct, 11-6pm, free.
Truman Brewery - T3 and T4, 146 Brick Lane, London, E1 (Wilkes St entrance)

New!: The Future Can Wait
Also on at the Truman Brewery.
Wed 15 - Sun 19 Oct, 11-6pm, free.
The Old Truman Brewery, 81 Brick Lane, E1 6QL

Red Dot London

"Concurrent with Frieze Art Fair and Zoo Art Fair", Red Dot is another of the satellite fairs, and can't make up its mind whether it's free or £5.
Thu 16-Sun 19 Oct, 11am-8pm (11am-7pm on Sun), Free or £5, maybe.
Radisson Edwardian Grafton London, 130 Tottenham Court Road, W1T 5AY
Nearest tube: Warren Street.

Affordable Art Fair
Will Ramsey's fair tends to show "relatively unknown artists" and all work is under £3,000.
Thu 23-Sun 26 Oct, 11am-6pm, £10.
Battersea Park Events Arena, London SW11 4NJ.
Nearest tube: Sloane Square, where there are free shuttle buses, or you're on the train to Battersea Park, or on the bus.

Art Sleuth suggests that there may also be some action on Vyner Street, if Wilkinson, Nettie Horn et al haven't all gone quiet whilst Frieze is on.

Gone but not forgotten...

Year 08
The Keith Talent Gallery-organised show has been a strong youthful upstart for the last couple of years, but has been cancelled. What a shame. Last year: Year 07.

Pulse hasn't returned to London in 2008, and Bridge claims it is skipping 2008 only.

.

See also: Alternative Art Fairs in London Art Week, All the fun of the art fairs, The beginning of the end for satellite fairs?,How to plan and run a successful art fair (by Matthew Slotover of Frieze), Art Fairs, Oct 2008, Last year.

Design inviting imagination

The blank slate.
Blank slate
Most mobile companies show devices in use or an indicative user interface on the device. But O2 often present their devices as if they were blank but beautiful slates, ready to display anything or receive the impression of your literate texts. Here's the XDA Mantle, a device aimed at enterprise and field operations with "an in-built fingerprint scanner, so your data stays in safe hands". (Its name evokes safety and a sense of history: mantle-pieces and fireguards, organs that generate protective shell in molluscs, geological structure, orthodox garments...)

Ghosts (outside the machine).
Ghosts
Wheels, a Lego set in the Supplementary range. Sadly, the translucent blue ghosts on the packaging indicate building-potential - grander scenarios that the set might become a constituent part of - rather than the presence of a range of spectral figures, vehicles and structures suitable for restaging Pictish conflicts...

In both cases, blue as a colour indicating possibility.

Fast colour. Fugitive colour - Derek Jarman: Chroma, 1994

This is from Jarman's book on colour, written as he grew ill in 1993 in hospitals and Dungeness. He died in 1994. It's perhaps unsurprising that he returns to themes of time, of pigments fading to ghostly whites and greys, of memory, erasure and fading vision, particularly in the blue chapter.

It's literate, historical and above all personal, and rather than argument or thesis the method is an accumulation of coloured impressions and traces. A rather meditative, often beautiful book. It's primarily about painter's colour - there's not much on natural, printer's or electr[on]ic colour. My comments below are in square brackets.

Books by colour, blurred

Introduction:

Fast colour. Fugitive colour. [p1]

[on the surface this is about colour-fastness - some colours being bleached by long-term exposure light, others being resistant - but both "fast" and "fugitive" seem to hint at neuro-optic or psycho-optic properties of colour...]

Chemistry and romantic names - manganese violet [...] distant places, Naples yellow. The geography of colour, Antwerp blue [...] Colour stretching to the distant planets - Mars violet; named after Old Masters - Van Dyke brown. Contradicatory - Lamp-black. [p3]

White lies:

White is the colour of mourning except in the Christian West where it is black - but the object of mourning is white. Whoever heard of a corpse in a black shroud? [lilies] [p11]

All the ancient monuments are ghostly white, the statues of Greece and Rome were washed of their colours by time. So, when the Italian artists revived antiquity, they sculpted in white marble unaware that their exemplars were once polychrome [...] The world had become a ghost for artists. [p13]

The advance of white in the twentieth century was delayed  by the Second World War. [...] In the ruins of war, colour was reinstated. The pastels of the 1950s, each wall a different shade, pale shades of Mondrian's bright and scintillating Broadway Boogie-Woogie. [p17]

On the television the battle for purity raged: Persil washes whiter than white, blue-white [p18]

Shadow is the queen of colour:

Pliny [Natural History] says that painters wore bladder masks to protect themselves from the dust of vermilion as they painted the statue of Jupiter. We must explore this subject more closely, he says. [p23]

[Citing burnt ashes Aristotle thinks the earth is naturally white, deriving its colour from moist dye. His On Colour doesn't mention painting, and the Younger Pliny reads it one afternoon during a thunderstorm.] [pp24-6]

Pliny is eloquent [...] because he puts himself and his prejudices so strongly into his writing. Most later books on colour fail to do this, and therefore remain colourless. [p27]

On seeing red:

Red protects itself. No colour is as territorial. It stakes a claim, is on the alert against the spectrum. [p31]

[Until the flourescent yellows and oranges of health and safety warnings.]

Red tetroxide of lead, the classical minium secondarium or 'sandarach'. Gave its name to the miniature. It is the colour of red letter days in a medieval manuscript. These days it's used as a rust resistant more than an artists' pigment. [p36]

Four stages are distinguished in alchemy: MELANOSIS (blackening), LEUCOSIS (whitening), XANTHOSIS (yellowing) and IOSIS (reddening). It is in these colours that the modern pharmaceutical industry was born. [p38]

I've placed no colour photos in this book, as that would be a futile attempt to imprison them. [...] I prefer that the colours should float and take flight in your minds. [p42]

The romance of the rose and the sleep of colour:

The long sleep of Aristotle descended on the Middle Ages. Colour went on a Crusade, and came back with strange heraldic names: Sable, Purpure, Tanne, Sanguine, Gules, Azure, Vert, on a host of fluttering flags. [p45]

It's not until our time that colour sparkles in the colour fields of contemporary American painting with this strength and purpose [as it did in medieval painting...] flying buttresses made possible large windows filled with stained glass which reached its apogee in the Sainte-Chapelle, a dancing glass kaleidoscope. [pp46-7]

the passing centuries rubbed the colour off old walls, but in the manuscripts hidden from the light that creates and destroys, you can see colour bright as the day it was laid down by the illuminator. [p48]

[This characteristic, that light both constitutes organic or camera vision possible, whilst in excess being what prevents vision via a blindness or bleaching, is worth returning to.]

Grey matter:

[Augustine] Shadow is the Queen of Colour. Colour sings in the grey. Painters often have grey studio walls, for instance the grey-papered walls on which Gericault hung his paintings. [And Matisse.] [...] Grey allowed the high-key colour to rush over it in the future but retained a presence [Mantegna, Giacometti, Johns, Beuys, Kiefer] [pp51-2]

At the edge of the horizon, behind the grey bulk of the nuclear power station, lies the grey area of secrecy. Home of the colourless atom, but grey in the mind's eye. The cornerstone of the half-truth on which governments build their defence, atomic half-truths [half-lives] which we live here. [p54]

Marsilio Ficino:

Uccello [...] shut himself in his studio for days on end. His angry wife believed he had taken Perspective as a mistress. [p57]

[Ficino, godfather of the renaissance, dies 1499]

Green fingers:

[Dark Ages:] woods claimed back the Roman roads and palaces. These woods were the home of the Green Man.

Archaic green colours time. Passing centuries are evergreen. To mauve belongs a decade. [...] Blue is infinite. [...] We feel green has more shades than any other colour. [p66-7]

Napoleon died from arsenic poison as the green wallpaper in his prison on St Helena rotted in the damp. [p71] [Remember too the green-black fingers and tongues of the poisoned monks in The Name of the Rose.]

Reynolds's use of bitumen turned his portraits a ghostly grey. Some colours faded, like the death of the copper greens in Venetian paintings, the violets that turned to white. The soot-black reds. Now they seem to be the artists' intention. Other colours, like the lapis blue, with which the Venetians painted distance, scream at you from the horizon [...] It was this that led Caravaggio to say, 'Blue is poison'.

The most stable of the greens is Terre Vert. The most elusive, the copper greens [...] Fugitive colour flies in time, and leaves us in a perpetual autumn. [...] The under painting of many Renaissance paintings is green, which gobbles up the pink, so the face of Masaccio's Madonna has taken on the green hue of a ghost. [p72]

Green is a colour which exists in narratives [Oz] ... it always returns. The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. [p74]

How now brown cow:

There are more browns than greens. The names of the browns [pigments] give us a clearer picture [...] Cooking is present in brown [raw, burnt umbers] Sepia is the odd one out - the ink of the cuttlefish [... Dyes:] are sweet and edible. You can buy a coat in caramel, toffee... [p79]

[Eliot: Unreal City... brown fog ... brown as the slow colour of] returning spring. The smell of damp humus, rich, slow, somnolent. Brown is a slow colour. [pp81-2]

[And of comforting/intensifying food: HP and Worcester sauces.]

The perils of yellow:

[A bunch of noxious, dangerous, warning, evil yellows, anti-semitism, thieves... p89-93]

Ultraviolet reflects yellow strongly, so insects fall over themselves and hallucinate. Although yellow occupies one-twentieth of the spectrum, it is the brightest colour. [pp 89-90]

Indian yellow, banned. Cows were poisoned with mango leaves and the colour was made from their urine.

Orpiment poisonous arsenic sulphide [... Cennini:] 'Beware of soiling your mouth with it' [or Zappa: don't you eat that yellow snow]

Naples yellow, lead antimonate [...] lasts forever, and is manufactured from a mineral found in volcanoes. [p93]

Orange tip:

What came first?
The name or the fruit?
Naranga, za Faran the saffron. [p95]

Leonardo:

invented chiaroscuro which was taken up by Caravaggio in the next century. [L: shadow is a diminution of light, darkness is the absence of light... a luminous body will appear less brilliant when surrounded by a bright background... the more brilliant a light, the deeper the shadows..., p99]

[Jarman's imagined backstory, The Smile on the Face of the Mona Lisa: L completes the portrait of a chattering banker's wife without the mouth, then substitutes the smile of her boy servant. p100-1]

Poor Mona Lisa has faded, drained of colour by time. Yet of all the paintings it has achieved the impossible. You can see her with your eyes shut. [p101]

Into the blue:

[This is the voiceover, or an adaptation of it, of his film Blue.]

Tacitus tells us of a spectral tattooed army, the Pictish Britons nude in the colour of the Ethiopians, Caeruleus. Dark blue, not the sharp blue from the paint tube.

Gun metal blue. The patina of copper, Verdigris on the edge of green. [Blue as discolouration, evidence of change. p103]

The blue work clothes of France. The blue overalls here in England, and the blue Levis that conquered the world. [cheap, hard-wearing blue? p104]

Bluebeard [pirate? Vonnegut?]

[Indigo arrives in Europe and is banned because it threatens the woad industry] hedged with legislation [or, we might say, caught up in red tape.]

The Japanese slept under blue mosquito nets to give the illusion of peace and cool. [pp105-6]

[a painful record of illness and fear, pp106-120]

The damaged retina has started to peel away leaving innumerable black floaters, like a flock of starlings swirling around in the twilight. [p122]

Isaac Newton:

He noted:
The most refracted rays produce purple colours and those least refracted red... [p125]

Purple passage:

Mauve is a chimera. It barely exists except as a description of the 1890s, the Mauve Decade. [p127]

Christ's robe in many medieval paintings, Piero della Francesca's Resurrection, for instance, is bright pink. [p128]

When Queen Mary visited my father's RAF station at Kidlington early in the Fifties, a pink lavatory was built for her visit. [...] In the event she never used it. [p129]

Mauve [...] after aniline dye was produced from coal. [...] It seems to have had little time to gather much mystery - where does it appear in poetry? It is confined to the chemistry lesson. [p130]

Tyrian purple. It was extracted in minute quantities from a shell, Murex, and cloth was boiled with dye and exposed to the morning sun on the seashore, turning it into the most costly product antiquity. Its manufacture was controlled by the Imperial Family in the Collegium Tinctorium under the auspices of Melcanth the Phoenician God. As no example of purple cloth remains from antiquity, we do not know what it looked like. [p132]

It was said that Alexander the Great's urine smelled of violets. [Another thing not provable centuries later. Smell: deeply ephemeral, yet clearly powerful temporally (Proust).]

Violet paint is rarely used. [...] The Impressionists created violet shadows in the Mauve Decade. Monet's haystacks awash with pinks and violets in the sunset. [pp134]

Black Arts:

In the black coal fire lives the spirit of storytelling. Flickering blue and scarlet flames. It was around the fire at night that men and women told their stories in the pitchy black. [p139]

Behind the green centre of the Moslem world lies the black stone - the Ka'abo.

The world as black as ink. Books are printed in black. [black boards] [p140]

Silver and gold:

[The difference between silver/gold and the colours.] metals? Is it because of their lustre or their value?

The most golden painting - just a little blue lapis on the virgin's robe - is Simone Martini's Annunciation. Gold medieval paintings. Yves Klein throwing gold bars into the Seine. [p143]

Silver is useful. I can't think of a painting. It's far away from the spectrum. [...] Silver is for the night. Silvery seas [p144]

[Holbein's Henry VIII and Queen Jane Seymour, both c 1536-7: his shirt and her sleeves]

Iridescence:

Who has not gazed in wonder at the snaky shimmer of petrol patterns on a puddle [p145]

[What is iridescence if not (merely) dancing, ephemeral colours?]

Translucence:

Glass is the key to the exploration of our world. It was through glass that Galileo explorer the solar system; it was a glass prism that gave Newton the spectrum. As the manufacture of glass in the seventeenth century advanced so did discovery. Grinding of lenses. Magnifying glass. Glass spectacles [another reflection on The Name of The Rose]. Lustrous, hard and brittle.

It was through an 'absence' of colour - colourlessness - that we measured the stars, created the spectrum. Then came microscopes to reveal the invisible within. [...]

Glass is as vital as oxygen. The Hubble telescope has a lens ground to an accuracy the Galileo could never have imagined [albeit not without inaccuracies still]. Glass is the salt of the intellect - a seeing through, its transparency pushes into dark corners. [pp147-8]

.

See also: Batchelor: Chromatopia, Itten, et al. Some notes on invisible colours. Cabinet magazine's excellent series on colours (to read): mauve, cyan, silver, ivory, pistachio, ultramarine, sulphur, rust, safety orange, hazel, ruby, ash, beige, and bice.

How Lighthouse ticket-tracking currently uses Markdown for lists

We are gradually switching from Mantis to Lighthouse for ticket tracking at work because it's a great ticketing system, and more customer-friendly than Mantis because it's simpler. Lighthouse uses Markdown as its text-formatting "language". But we've had some problems getting text formatting to work well, partly because we're habituated to writing content in Textile-format in Basecamp, partly because we do lots of structured lists in our tickets, and partly because Lighthouse's implementation of Markdown lists is currently a bit idiosyncratic.

So here are some rules of thumb for making lists work in Lighthouse. As the developers improve it, I'll come back and edit this post. (I hope this also helps the developers updating the documentation and, preferably, the code: Lighthouse is a great product but we'd love to see a less brittle and more consistent implementation of Markdown lists.)

  1. Every list must have a blank line above it and one beneath it. Else, your list will break horribly. (Also don't do a numbered list, then have a blank line, then do another list: it'll continue your first list.)
  2. Nested/hierarchic lists work slightly differently for numbers and bullets:
    • To do a second-level bullet (a "child") you do space-space-*
    • To do a second-level number (a "child") you do space-space-space-1. That it's different from the way bullets are handled is probably a bug.
    • To do a third-level bullet (a "grand-child") you do tab-*
    • To do a third-level number (a "grand-child") you do tab-tab-1.
    • To do a fourth-level bullet (a "great grand-child") you do tab-tab-*
    • To do a fourth-level number (a "great grand-child") you do tab-tab-tab-1.
  3. Mix numbers and bullets very carefully in nested lists: numbers should not contain bullets as children because the bullets tend to kill the number order of the parents...

Some examples. A list of bullets that works:

* parent
  * child (space-space-bullet)
    * grandchild (tab-bullet)
        * great-grandchild (tab-tab-bullet)
* parent
  * child (space-space-bullet)
    * grandchild (tab-bullet)
        * great-grandchild (tab-tab-bullet)
    * grandchild (tab-bullet)
  * child (space-space-bullet)
* parent

A list of numbers that works:

1. parent
   1. child (space-space-space-number) - nb, here it's a triple-space, not the double-space you'd do for a child bullet
   1. child (space-space-space-number)
        1. grandchild (tab-tab-number) - again, not the same as it is with bullets. And nb now you can't do a fourth, great-grandchild, level of numbers.
1. parent
   1. child (space-space-space-number)
   1. child (space-space-space-number)
        1. grandchild (tab-tab-number)
   1. child (space-space-space-number)
1. parent

And a list with both bullets and numbers that doesn't work in Lighthouse:

1. parent
   1. child (space-space-space-number)
   1. child (space-space-space-number)
    * grandchild (tab-bullet)
        * great-grandchild (tab-tab-bullet)
   1. child (space-space-space-number) - here the number order has been broken by the preceding bullet
        1. grandchild (tab-tab-number)
        1. grandchild (tab-tab-number)
   1. child (space-space-space-number)
    * grandchild (tab-bullet)
    * grandchild (tab-bullet)
   1. child (space-space-space-number) - again number order broken by preceding bullet
        1. grandchild (tab-tab-number)
        1. grandchild (tab-tab-number)
1. parent
   1. child (space-space-space-number)

There may be a better/more robust way to do nested lists, but I haven't found it yet. (Nested lists seem to work quite differently in Markdown, but to be fair to Lighthouse here, it does all seem a bit arbitrary in Markdown. Markdown seems more powerful than Textile, but also more complex, so maybe I don't understand it well enough yet.)

See also: Lighthouse commits to Markdown over Textile; Markdown syntax and testing doobry; a Lighthouse ticket discussing this very matter.

A chimney on one floor, Duchamp's final work

Duchamp's final work: the fireplace/chimney in Cadaques
Duchamp's final artwork, an internal chimney in an apartment in Cadaques, has been found:

The artist is believed to be responsible for a corner fireplace built within the residence in the resort of Cadaques in Catalonia where he spent the final months before his death in October 1968. [...]

"We knew about the chimney from references but it couldn't be found in the home Duchamp owned for the final seven years of his life," Mr Malla told The Daily Telegraph. "So I naturally thought it didn't exist until I met Richard Hamilton."

The British pop artist [...] directed him to a house that Duchamp had rented when he became too frail to climb the stairs of his own residence.

And at the top there we see Hamilton casually propping up the chimney.

Duchamp, Preliminary Studies and Tools for "Anaglyphic Chimney" (Cheminée anaglyphe), 1968

A few precursors to the chimney are known: the assemblage Preliminary Studies and Tools for "Anaglyphic Chimney" (Cheminée anaglyphe), 1968 (video here, via Tout Fait), and the altogether sketchier Anaglyphic chimney, 1968 (ignore the menacing bee watermark hovering over it). Until now, there had merely been rumours of the physical existence of the chimney.

(There's much to write on chimneys, on smoke (married with the smell of a mouth or otherwise), on beautiful breath (Belle Haleine) and on the un-definable Duchampian un-concept of inframince. But let's leave these parenthetic breaths aside for now.)

The chimney stands at one end of a significant list of work that addressed, amongst other interests, spatial concerns:

And that list could no doubt grow - it makes me wonder whether a solid architectural view of Duchamp could be developed. There are clear secondary themes of optics and loss/vanished spaces to explore too.

Duchamp, View March 1945 rear cover See also:
Why Duchamp?: The Influence of Marcel Duchamp on Contemporary Architectural Theory and Practice; Duchamp & Architecture!!!???; Psycho Buildings at the Hayward Gallery; and bistre: "A colour made of chimney soot boiled, and then diluted with water, used by painters in washing their designs."

Cy Twombly at Tate Modern, 19 Jun - 14 Sep 2008

Cy Twombly, Untitled VII Bacchus, 1995

Cy Twombly is an American gone to the bad - a decadent exile who [...] is dirty-minded, and history-minded. Somehow, the two go together for this genius of rot.

Twombly looks like a man in a hurry: he violently pencils the canvas, claws through paint with his fingers, then wipes them on the canvases. There's a sense of hysteria: bodies, body parts, bodies in action, desire...

You'd go further than hurry and hysteria and think him barking mad, scrawling words as a babble. (He was conscripted into the Army in the 50s and trained as a cryptographer, and while on duty in the night would perform the automatic drawing of the Surrealists blindly. So imagine a Twombly who, during a top-secret cryptographic experiment, had inadvertently encrypted himself - his vision, brain, language - on a one-time pad, the drawings and paintings becoming desperate essays at auto-decryption or communication.) However, there's clear evidence against madness of the careful corrections in the underpainting.

He works in waves, cooler then hotter. The 70s drawings to a dead friend are beautiful and depthless, the Apollo drawings similarly cool and distanced. There's a preoccupation with repetition and the hand performing: many of the canvases have a clear right-handed italic bias - arcs of writing and drawing. The hotter ones are urgent, with frenzies barely repressed. The Hero and Leandro quartet combine the two: a wave of thick impasto and rich colour on the left makes way to a smoother, lighter treatment in the second canvas, minimal paleness by the third, and the smaller, supplementary coda of text.

"White paint is my marble", he said, but against the paintings the white sculptures unfortunately seem like weak filler. The later works, though - the pair of Four Seasons cycles and the muscular, exuberant Bacchus paintings - have meaty impact.

Great show.

.

See also:
Gordon Burns's excellent profile, which has this gem:

Twombly's practice in those years was to cover the whole of a large room with canvas and then start working close to the floor or up under the ceiling, wherever his eye took him. When many days had passed and all the walls were smeared with smudges of paint and fecal-looking stains and spidery unravellings of graffiti, he would hack off a section that looked as if it might have the makings of a painting and nail it to the wall without a stretcher.

Rindy Sam kisses Twombly's Phaedrus. Tate Etc: Lingering at the Threshold; Independent: 'Cycles and Seasons' spotlights an artist who hasn't put a foot wrong in a 60-year career; Observer: Top marks for handwriting; Guardian's sceptic: His scattered dreams and its cheerleader: The last American hurrah.

Command and Control at Standpoint, 11 July – 9 August 2008

Rosie Snell, Stalker, 2005

Ross Hansen, Roger Kelly, Adam Latham, Mariele Neudecker and Rosie Snell in a group show at Standpoint on humanity and natural world, "eulogising and destruction, aestheticising and control".

Ross Hansen's drawings and paintings have undeniable quality in their painstaking detail (see also Glenn Brown), but have variable impact: Memento Mori 2008, a large colour pencil image of a tufted owl, and Potter's Lamb 2007, a rich oil rendering of a chimera - a two-faced lamb, are strong.

Adam Latham's posters are fun. In the mixture of history, science and bawdiness there are obvious hints of Keith Tyson and Archimboldo, but visually they're indebted to Robert Crumb.

Mariele Neudecker, Doppelganger, 2008

Mariele Neudecker's simulated tree trunks aren't quite as evocative of non-place as her work usually manages. What look like real twigs and pines cones are added to fibreglass trunks, the whole then sprayed with paint slightly clumsily. More a question of the convincing fiction than an evocation of the sublime; I prefer the cloudy vitrines from some years ago.

Rosie Snell's paintings of military objects, tanks and buildings camouflaged into their surroundings are great: silent monoliths cached in the landscape like lost - or certainly long-misinterpreted -archaeological cities. They're a bit like Peter Doig with flatter, simpler painting handling and colour. The one at the top - Stalker, 2005 - isn't in the show unfortunately.

The side room has the best work: Neudecker has a matt black cast of an airline black box that vibrates visually, a mute sigil (silence seems to be everywhere in this show) and crypt. Roger Kelly's drawings are extraordinary. Bomb-damaged houses, each with a title ("treasure house of stained glass") are rendered as flat scenes that only gradually reveal their source material. The linework is delicate, a consistent width and pressure (as if inked), giving them a quality of "alloverness" that collapses form and ground (something I'm obsessed with). Buildings with histories transformed, flattened down, teased out, re-storied into mostly abstract patterns. Fantastic.

Roger Kelly, Redux, 2007

This painting isn't in the show, but gives a sense of what he's doing. There's little on the internet about Kelly: a pair of blurry but representative drawings here, a 2007 drawing here, a 2001 painting that perhaps hints at his future directions. Kelly has compatriots in the excellent Peter Peri and Ernesto Caivano, who currently has a great show at White Cube.

Neudecker has always been one to watch, Rosie Snell and Roger Kelly get added to the list.

links for 2008-08-05 [delicious.com]

Kafka Everyman

Zadie Smith on Kafka in the NYRB:

"It is rare that writers of fiction sit behind their desks, actually writing, for more than a few hours a day. Had Kafka been able to use his time efficiently, the work schedule at the Institute would have left him with enough free time for writing. As he recognized, the truth was that he wasted time." [Begley, The Tremendous World I have in My Head]

The truth was that he wasted time! The writer's equivalent of the dater's revelation: He's just not that into you. "Having the Institute and the conditions at his parents' apartment to blame for the long fallow periods when he couldn't write gave Kafka cover: it enabled him to preserve some of his self-esteem." [...]

Obviously, Kafka put it more dramatically:

The impossibility of not writing, the impossibility of writing German, the impossibility of writing differently. One might add a fourth impossibility, the impossibility of writing.... Thus what has resulted was a literature impossible in all respects, a gypsy literature which had stolen the German child out of its cradle and in great haste put it through some kind of training, for someone had to dance on the tightrope. (But it wasn't a German child, it was nothing; people merely said that somebody was dancing.) [Kafka, letter]

links for 2008-07-25

links for 2008-07-24

links for 2008-07-23

links for 2008-07-22

links for 2008-07-20

links for 2008-07-19