Erik Moe Art & Design

Some fun with panoramic photography from a lazy Sunday at Clark Park last month (click to enlarge). If you look closely, you’ll see that a ghost is doing Rachel’s painting homework for her. The source images were taken on a cellphone camera – believe it or not.

Rachel and I spotted this giant metallic dragonfly heading west on Spring Garden Street yesterday.

I have no idea where where it came from or where it was going, but it provided a brief moment of magic after a Sunday morning brunch in Northern Liberties. Presumably it is some kind of public art installation (click images for enlargements).

One of my recent Flash projects went live a few days ago. It’s a timeline! Who doesn’t love timelines? Sure, it isn’t exactly the Met’s timeline of all things visual in the history of planet Earth, but it does have a cool zoom effect if you skip around a bit. You can launch the timeline from the sidebar on this page.

While I’m talking design, have a gander at my latest portfolio (beta). I’ll be adding more samples to it in the coming days.

If you are in Philadelphia this weekend, check out Rachel’s show on the 3rd floor of the Gilbert building (where Vox Populi, Highwire Gallery, and the Fabric Workshop are). She is showing some of her yarn creations and paintings. She says that the other artists are going to be superstars someday (t00), so you should buy their work now.

Back in August, Rachel and I captured this mysterious flicker in the basement of my parents’ house. Lets call it “Experimental Film No. 1.”

Note that this post is filed in a new category: “podcasts.” Wordpress has built-in support for podcasting, which means that you can grab my RSS feed (bottom of the page) and use it to automatically download this movie and any future audio/video craziness I post. Enjoy!

Writing in Thursday’s Inquirer, architecture critic Inga Saffron cuts Sheldon Bonovitz and the Duane Morris mega lawfirm down to size. The lawfirm has been bragging about the Roy Lichtenstein sculpture it has so generously arranged to bring to Philadelphia (for five years) as its contribution to the city’s amazing public art collection. Art critic Ed Sozanski had previously raved about the new installation, but in reality the sculpture is barely visible to the public because the plaza it stands in has been fenced off and converted to private space for Duane Morris employees! The lawfirm has committed a huge crime by subtracting valuable public space from Center City and now is trying to get good press by passing off a corporate art trophy as a public service. Saffron also points out that Bonovitz sits on the board of the Philadelphia Museum of Art and the Barnes Foundation, and used those “public service” connections to secure the sculpture for his lawfirm.

STANDINGS:
                    W L  PCT GB Streak
Phila. Phanatics:   3 3 .500  - Lost 1
Phila. Frustration: 3 3 .500  1 Won 1


I’m continuing to work on some animation ideas. I’ve been working on these two cuties lately. They need names. I like the name “Mr. Grumbles,” which appeared in a recent NY Times article with several quotes from one Benjamin H. Grumbles at the EPA. I don’t think either of these guys feel like a Mr. Grumbles, though. Check out the new placeholder on the animation page and let me know if you have any name ideas.

Over the Memorial Day weekend, Rachel and I drove up to Boston. It was the first time either of us spent any real time there and I left wondering why it took me four years on the east coast to begin exploring the gems it has to offer.

The clear highlight of the trip was the DeCordova Museum and Sculpture Park. The museum is just north of Boston in a scenic wilderness area next to Walden Pond (yes, that Walden Pond). On the grounds of the museum are dozens of memorable sculptures including the Trojan Piggybank (pictured) by Aristotle Georgiades and Gail Simpson. Though many of the works were whimsical like that pig, the most impressive were somewhat understated and played off the natural beauty of the outdoor environment. Jim Dine’s Two Big Black Hearts was especially suited to the landscape. Our consensus favorite was Kitty Wales Pine Sharks. The metal creatures were oddly peaceful swimming above our heads.

The DeCordova’s indoor galleries were equally impressive. We had a hard time picking favorites from the annual exhibition of New England artists that had just opened the week before. The museum’s staff were also very welcoming and helpful, a nice and unexpected plus.

The rest of the trip had a hard time competing with DeCordova. We accidentally stumbled upon the home of Bauhaus founder Walter Gropius. We got lost on our way to Salem and met a very young gas station attendant who asked us why we’d want to go to Salem, anyway (”there’s just a bunch of old people there,” he said). Salem was a bit of a disappointment, mainly because we arrived well after the town went to sleep (including the pirate museum). Our jaunt through New England towns the next day was rather idyllic, however.

Exploring the actual city of Boston was a real pleasure. While exploring the neighborhoods, we wandered into the Boston Center for the Arts where a subtle installation filled the main gallery with the soothing blue light of slow-motion surfing scenes and the sounds of the waves falling on a beach. Again, we were impressed with the friendliness of the staff/volunteers on hand. We were most fascinated by some oddly shaped pillows sitting on the reception couch that weren’t even part of the BCA’s exhibitions. They were cone-shaped with lots of eyes and reminded me somewhat of Yoshitomo Nara’s creations. When Rachel expressed interest, the volunteers brought out some tinier creations and suggested that we leave a note for the unknown artist. Still no word in response…

Gallery: Boston Photos

During the hype of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s Central Park Gates project, I was reading quite a bit about the Maysles Brothers’ series of documentaries about previous landscape transformations by the pair. Over the past couple of weeks, I finally had a chance to see them and I can’t recommend them highly enough. David and Albert Maysles developed a very close friendship with Christo and Jeanne-Claude over the course of their many collaborations. Their love for their subject comes through in the films – even when their subjects are bickering and yelling at each other, worn down by the logistics and lack of sleep demanded by massive installation projects.

The first film in the series documents the Valley Curtain installation in Colorado. Christo and Jean-Claude are very young and there are a number of amusing/endearing moments between them and the rugged cowboy construction workers of Colorado in the 1970’s. When a chain-smoking Jeanne-Claude laying in the grass lifts her head to yell “Does anybody know what is going on now?” we start to wonder what her role is in these collaborations (later films clarify her role well). This first film is not as well-rounded because the Maysles’ were not brought in until the final week of the project. The film does not even mention the failed first attempt at installing Valley Curtain some years prior.

Later films Running Fence, Islands, Christo in Paris, and Umbrellas have more well-rounded plotlines and offer more insights on the art duo. Christo in Paris has the most biographical content (the duo rifle through boxes of old photos and reminisce about the fascinating courtship between the Romanian refugee artist and the wealthy daughter of a French General). The projects in these films are more accessible than Valley Curtain as well. Both because they were installed in more populous areas and because they were all installed not by construction workers but by armies of local artworkers hired by Christo and Jeanne-Claude. The long process of gaining approval formally (from government committees) and informally (from neighbors and landholders) is what most of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s time goes into during these projects, and the Maysles’ films provide this essential documentation alongside gorgeous views of these temporary works.

Related: Albert Maysles’ concise advice for documentary filmmakers | In-depth summary and trailer for The Gates (mayslesfilms.com) | The Gates at imdb | My take on The Gates.

Yesterday, I took a quick trip up to NYC for a stroll through Central Park and Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s Gates project with friends. I eat this kind of landscape transformation up, of course, so I’ve been excited about the prospect of seeing this since first reading about it a year or so ago. Much has been written and said about the gates, but this sort of thing is really about the experience of being there, so I’m only going to contribute a couple of thoughts to the chatter…

1. The color orange - at least for the moment - has become art all by itself. While walking around Brooklyn, the subways, and today in Philly I couldn’t help feeling like people wearing orange clothes were part of Christo and Jeanne-Claude’s work. Even a tower under construction near the park was transformed (at right). The orange safety fences on each floor of the shell seemed to become part of the experience.

2. The impression of the landscape reminded me very much of Minneapolis parks in wintertime. Often orange snow fences are put in place to keep people from straying onto dangerous ice.

3. It was interesting to observe everyone’s tendency to try to find a perfect vista, as though the work was a painting to be taken in from one spot rather than an experience to be taken in over however many miles of pathways.

4. The whole thing is, in fact, magical.

5. OLMSTEAD is the name of the landscape architect who designed Central Park. I couldn’t think of it yesterday. Some have suggested that he must be rolling in his grave right now. I disagree. I think the gates are consistent with his approach to landscape design as painting. The placement of colors in the landscape was central to Olmstead’s approach, and the installation calls attention to this fundamental aspect of Central Park. The gates highlights distance and contrast in a way that is difficult to see if you don’t take the time to meditate on it. When the gates are taken down and recycled, we may all see Olmstead’s compositions for the first time. (aside: Erik Larson’s The Devil in the White City includes Olmstead as one of many characters involved with the great Chicago World’s Exposition, and is a fun read).