In search of a gift for a friend obsessed with oranges, I discovered vintage fruit crate labels. These are the labels that were affixed to the ends and tops of produce-filled wooden crates from the 1890s to 1950s. Sellers had to find creative ways of attracting buyers to their produce so they produced wonderfully designed labels. Sadly, this practice ended when the pre-printed, cheaper cardboard box was introduced. I found some really cool labels with great fonts, imagery and colors on Etsy, but it looks like there are other websites that sell the original labels too. It’s too bad that a need for efficiency and less expensive methods trumped the production of these little graphic design gems, but it’s very cool that they are easy to find and collect.
Like many of the beautiful and architecturally significant buildings in Detroit, the station fell victim to abuse and neglect when the city began to deteriorate. These photos below show how the train station looks today. I find it completely heartbreaking.
To really get a feel, take a virtual tour here.
David Bates’ exhibition at the Kemper Museum of Contemporary Art is a sincere and powerful tribute to Katrina survivors. Unfortunately the reproductions don’t do justice to the paintings. In real life, they are extremely textural with paint daubs jutting out more than a quarter of an inch from the canvas at times. If you are in the area, go see this show. If you cant make it, read my review here from Review Magazine.
But there's more going on here than just beautiful finishes and gorgeous sculptural furniture. Many aspects of the apartment are directly linked to the script and designed to help fans understand Carrie's story on a deeper level.
This blue ottoman deliberately alludes to the electric blue walls of Carrie's old apartment and was chosen specifically for the moment in the script when Carrie reconciles her old single self with her new life as a wife.
To see more awesome movie sets, click here.
I can’t identify a single Rush song. So you can imagine my hesitation when my boyfriend got me a ticket to see the documentary Rush: Beyond the Lighted Stage. I am so glad I went. While I’m not into their music, it’s impossible not to appreciate their musicianship, work ethic and their charming personalities. Unlike most rock docs, this one didn’t include any mention of drug addiction, rehab, sex with groupies and inter-band fighting. After shows, you could most likely find the band in their hotel room watching TV or writing songs for their next album. Unlike most rock stars, they never rejected their nerdiness or compromised their standards for a record label even when their most diehard fans weren’t totally on board with what they were doing. They never rested on their laurels, they were constantly evolving and experimenting. In fact, Neal Peart learned an entirely new way to drum when he was arguably already one of the best drummers of all time. The film is incredibly entertaining and inspiring. See it immediately.
If I were hired to consult FLOR on their marketing strategies, I would tell them to incorporate more dogs. That’s right, dogs. The reclining Boxer above is not only a stunningly gorgeous model, but he sends a subtle message that FLOR tiles are perfect for pets since you can simply replace the section they peed on or scratched to death. Think about it, FLOR. Dogs.
Ironically his statement made me think of a project that accomplished just the opposite—the recent wing of the Denver Art Museum. Designed by Daniel Libeskind, it’s a glaring example of the architecture overpowering the art. While it’s striking angles look great from the outside, it poses a number of obvious problems on the inside.
For one, how do you hang paintings on slanted walls? This isn’t just an issue for the museum’s prep crew, it makes for an awkward building for a visitor to navigate.
Surely Libeskind is too accomplished to have forgotten the two most important things when designing an art museum—the art and the visitors. So was this strategic or a classic case of an artist’s ego clouding the fundamental task at hand? I appreciate Libeskind’s rejection of the boring white cube in favor of something more interesting, but he went too far in Denver. Is there a museum expansion project out there that is aesthetically spectacular and still allows the art to be the center of attention? Phifer thinks so. The real question is, do the visitors and staff agree?