Intentional Observation: Mennonites in flip-flops 1 July 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Color, Handmade, Intentional observation, Northwest Arkansas, Siloam Springs.add a comment
“A little bit of dissonance is really required to have something
that will hold our attention for a longer period of time.”
- Pete Pinnell
Two things in the past few months prompted me to ponder the idea of contrast.
First off, I’ve taken note this year of the mennonites (at least that’s what we assume they are) shopping at our local Walmart. I’ve long had a fascination with Amish (and old order Mennonite, thus) cultures, probably in large part because of what seems to be their slower paced, more relationship and community based lifestyles. Another part of my interest almost certainly stems from the culture’s seeming affirmation of working with your hands.
There are two observations I’ve made with respect to contrast in observing the local mennonites. First of all, the men dress in such a way that you can’t pick them out of a crowd: Boots, jeans and t-shirts, but you know they are mennonite because of the lady on their arm in a very modest handmade dress, with a bonnet or cap in her hair.
Secondly, the women’s more conservative dress is often at odds with their footwear. I’ve seen them wearing tennis shoes for years now, but it was only a few months ago I saw some of them wearing flip-flops for the first time. This wonderfully jarring discrepancy scrawled a grin on my face that lasted all the way into the parking lot. The bright, nearly neon flip-flops next to pale blue, floral handmade dresses worked for me, and apparently work for mennonites too.
I wanted to take a picture with my cameraphone, but abstained from bothering the young ladies. Instead I searched through Flickr and found the fantastic image above, taken by Jizzon, showing a group of mennonite women, some in bright colored flip-flops (click on the image to go to the Flickr page where you can enlarge it). The clothing contrast in Jizzon’s photograph isn’t as stark as it usually is in the Siloam Springs’ Walmart. The girls in his capture are wearing much brighter handmade dresses than I’ve ever seen the group in Northwest Arkansas don.
If you’re craving even more paradox, look at this image of two mennonites in dresses and bonnets on a jet ski.
Secondly, after looking through an album posted by a photographer friend, Aus10, on Facebook I commented as follows:
Interesting to me how so much portraiture (including wedding photography) in the past five years or so has been about creating contrast — or so it seems to me as an observer. The well-groomed subjects are placed in rough and rustic environments: Against decrepit buildings with peeling paint, along derelict railway tracks covered in weeds etc. Seems to me this is a new trend for the media, and one that I like (unlike this everybody jump up in the air phenomenon). Is my observation correct in your professional opinion? And can you talk about why you think this is the case, if you think my assessment is correct?
The photographer’s reply was more or less to say that the high school seniors, in the case of the album I responded to, see their friends’ photos or advertisements for Urban Outfitters and want the same thing. Regardless of these teen’s, um, less than intellectual desire for this aesthetic, I must reiterate that I think it works and works well.
My own senior picture was from one of those gimmicky old-time photo rooms (which is what I wanted it to be, although mom had me submit a color image from a $10 Sears sitting for the actual yearbook.) However, I would have liked something akin to this popular contrasty style if I would have thought it was worth it for my parents to spend $400 (I’m sure it’s much more nowadays) for proper senior photographs.
In a pickle 21 May 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Design, Personal reflection, Siloam Springs.8 comments
I haven’t mentioned the whole moving scenario in a while. After not being comfortable, so to speak, with Enid real estate I decided to pursue a job at John Brown University, more specifically their Soderquist Center for Business and Ethics. A friend had recommended me for the position, a part-time design job which would allow me to continue working for M-DAT through the end of the year as I hope to do.
It seemed like I had a good shot at getting the position. I was qualified — based on the draft of a job description I was sent — and my own design aesthetic fit well with the Center’s intentions. Further, despite figuring there would be competition in an economy like this, it didn’t seem like there were many other candidates. If any. And of course my friend, a JBU professor who helped create the position, gave them my name. Regardless, I learned yesterday afternoon that I was “not selected for this position.”
Upon reading the rejection in my inbox yesterday afternoon, my gut conjured up one of those sinking sensations. Thankfully it didn’t last long, but to say the near future looks comfortable would be quite absurd. A year ago we would have been more comfortable in this kind of situation, but a slew of unexpected expenses over the past six months or so have damaged the savings account.
My wife and I really don’t know where to go from here (although we have some ideas). Two quite promising part-time jobs have not panned out in the past four months, a building we hoped to turn into living/retail seems out of range financially (thanks to mandatory fire sprinklers) and the doors to Enid, Oklahoma — where the in-laws live — seem to have all closed. In all likelihood we’ll have to put the house on the market and hope it sells very quickly.
I’ll conclude this little rant by posting links to my portfolio and resume. While I may not be featured in PRINT magazine any time soon (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing), I am a good designer with a fairly broad level of experience in print media, and a good knowledge of the internet even though I’m not a programmer.
Adding: I’ve published the portfolio and resume. When I posted this entry they were not yet public.
The notable floor plan 13 April 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Architecture, Basis for designing well, Design, Interior design.3 comments
Friday we drove over to Enid, Oklahoma again to look at an almost perfect house — or so it seemed based on our understanding of the house in comparison to our needs.
On paper, the property is indeed just right for us. However, when we walked through it yesterday we both realized this 1,900 square foot building had less space than our current 1,500 square foot bungalow.
Allow me to explain. We knew the second floor of this Enid house would be somewhat cut up simply by observing the dormers from outside. What we didn’t expect was a first floor that was almost as bad, functionally. The largest (i.e. “master”) master bedroom was off of the dining room, which isn’t too unusual in older homes but is particularly strange in this one. The only main floor bathroom is off of the kitchen. A smaller bedroom boasted a bumped out closet and doors on two walls, leaving about six feet of wall space for furniture, and the kitchen was hashed together indiscriminately.
Some of these problems could have been easily dealt with during the home’s recent remodel. Instead, the remodel apparently focused on utilities (with some obligatory new paint, carpet and kitchen cabinets). Most of the money the owners spent went into new HVAC and electrical. From what I could tell, the electrical was done very well, but this doesn’t make up for a poorly laid out interior space.
My wife and I don’t need 1,900 square feet. We don’t even need 1,500 square feet. In fact, to a degree the amount of square footage in a home is irrelevant,
The realtor said there had been a lot of interest in this house, from as far away as California, although we were the first to see it. I know that the house, with it’s chopped up 1,900 square feet, newer utilities and two car garage will be great for some family out there. However, I’m not convinced it’s for us.
The visual credit crisis 19 March 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Affluenza, Design, Modern culture, Sustainable living.add a comment
Earlier this week I posted the following in my Facebook status:
Paul Nielsen :: Realizing I have an eye (and degree) for design, but just don’t fit into the graphic designer’s culture.
Basically, I’ve realized this year, again, that I just don’t share the interests and passions of most serious graphic designers. I don’t look forward to new software; I don’t rant passionately against spec work like a lot of professional graphics people seem to. I have more of a marketing mind now (for good or ill) and realize that the job of a logo isn’t so much to grab attention — and professional accolades — as it is to create a brand. And, like two friends who commented on the Facebook status, I’d rather be getting my hands dirty than sitting in front of a computer all day (although half a day is OK).
That said, however, I’m still acutely aware of the surrounding visual environment, and appreciate good design when I see it. FlowingData posted a significant montage of good graphics related to the current economic crisis earlier this week, 27 visualizations to be exact. The one I appreciated most was the only video in the group.
The video, created by graduate student Jonathan Jarvis, above is the first of two parts posted on YouTube. See the full-length video on Vimeo here (YouTube limits videos to less than 10 minutes, and I can’t embed the Vimeo video because I don’t yet self-host The Aesthetic Elevator.). I also quite liked the following poster, if it can be called that, by Jess Bachman.
Click on the image to see the entire visualization. Bachman’s own website is called WallStats.
IAM Encounter: Billy Collins on subdivisions 9 March 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Basis for designing well, Community planning.1 comment so far
United States Poet Laureate Billy Collins read a number of his works during a plenary at the IAM Encounter 2009 gathering. I was already familiar with some of his work, though couldn’t have told you that without hearing specific poems.
His reading was fantastic, a very somber and almost monotone voice conveying common yet humorous observations. “A lot of poetry is born out of irritation,” he said.
One of his poems, The Golden Years, reminded me of a personal irritation I wrote about way back in 2006 in a post titled How to name a subdivision. In that entry I ask why subdivisions seem to be so randomly named after natural phenomena that bear no relevance to that particular location. Billy Collins asks the same question.
The Golden Years
All I do these drawn-out days
is sit in my kitchen at Pheasant Ridge
where there are no pheasant to be seen
and last time I looked, no ridge.
I could drive over to Quail Falls
and spend the day there playing bridge,
but the lack of a falls and the absence of quail
would just remind me of Pheasant Ridge.
I know a widow at Fox Run
and another with a condo at Smokey Ledge.
One of them smokes, and neither can run,
so I’ll stick to the pledge I made to Midge.
Who frightened the fox and bulldozed the ledge?
I ask in my kitchen at Pheasant Ridge.
The Golden Years is from Collins’ Ballistic: Poems (Amazon link). It’s well worth owning a book or two of his poems; I bought The Art of Drowning at the conference.
Yellow is more yellow on the truck 5 March 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Advertising, Basis for designing well, Color, Design, Siloam Springs.add a comment
For years — and years — I’ve had a fascination with the Yellow trucking company. This stems mainly from the paradox of the business’ name and color of their logo. The name is “Yellow,” but the logo is distinctly orange.
This dichotomy was probably a very intentional part of the company’s original branding scheme, for whatever reason. Even with this knowledge, however, the mismatch still bothers me — which very well may have been their reasoning.
Running to the post office today I spotted a Yellow truck sporting a new logo. This newer, slightly Web 2.0 esque design actually bears a tinge of yellow running through its core.
I must admit that, yellow or orange or both, I approve of this new incarnation of the company’s identity. Alas, it’s apparently not going to last that long. “The trucks and trailers for Akron-based Roadway and Yellow Transportation will soon sport a new, supplemental logo: YRC. And at some point — the parent company won’t say when — the Roadway and Yellow names will be replaced by YRC,” according to Ohio.com. The following image from the Under Consideration blog places Yellow, Roadway and YRC logos next to each other.
I’m not really feeling the new YRC logo; it’s trying to do too much, and the type seems unintentionally askew. I will be, in fact, sad to see the Yellow brand disappear. For whatever twisted reason, it’s been a part of my personal visual iconography since childhood.
Just for kicks, here’s a photo of the old Yellow logo from ToastyKen’s Flickr photostream.
Wordle from Memphis 25 February 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Design.add a comment
As this is being posted I’m hopefully in the Memphis airport awaiting my connecting flight to Newark. Just for fun, I thought I post an image of The Aesthetic Elevator created by Wordle.
Wordle isn’t very new according to my wife, which I was surprised to hear since TechCrunch featured it earlier this week. Regardless, it’s an interesting tool (if you can call it that) for people like me whose graphic design interest is mainly tYpOGraPhiCaL.
The mathematics of beauty 23 February 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Aesthetics, Art, Basis for designing well, Beauty, Design, Furniture.3 comments
Sebastian Smee of the Boston Globe penned a very interesting profile this weekend on one Horace Brock, an imposing man with five degrees under his belt including classical music, mathematics and economics.
Brock claims to have discovered a formula for beauty. From the article:
What about this theory, then?
In truth, it’s satisfyingly simple. Designed objects, Brock writes, can be broken down into “themes” and “transformations.” A theme is a motif, such as an S-curve; a transformation might see that curve appear elsewhere in the design, but stretched, rotated 90 degrees, mirrored, or otherwise reworked . . .
Brock wants to be clear that his theory applies only to beauty in design – in other words, architecture, furniture, and other kinds of decorative art: “That’s very important – I wouldn’t want to claim too much.” But in his catalog essay he claims his account “makes it possible to clarify, and indeed to quantify, one of the deepest principles of aesthetics: People . . . tend to be bored if there is too much simplicity (the kitchen chair, certain Gregorian chants) and overwhelmed if there is too much complexity (pastiche Victorian furniture, much 20th-century classical music).”
In his estimation, the theory also subsumes most previous theories of beauty in design – from Pythagoras’s golden rectangle to Hogarth’s “line of beauty,” from the celebrated golden section to the Fibonacci series – into a neat mathematical equation.
Smee probes a little and questions whether beauty can be reduced so simplistically to an equation. Brock is absolute in his response to the idea that beauty is merely in the eye of the beholder, “It’s absolute crap.”
A man after my own heart. Read the article in its entirety here.
How a bad economy influences art & design 19 February 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Aesthetics, Affluenza, Beauty, Business of art, Design, Fiber, Handmade, Modern culture.3 comments
In this case, design refers specifically to fashion, though I’m thinking in broader terms. NPR’s Ari Shapiro interviewed Sally Singer, Vogue magazine’s fashion news and features director in a Morning Edition spot this morning.
I have a love-hate relationship with fashion — both practical fashion and runway fashion. Runway fashion is easy for the masses to deride. A lot of it appears to lack almost every practical consideration, and us rabble in the middle classes can’t remotely afford it. It rightly births satire such as Ugly Betty. However, artistically and aesthetically fashion design is worthwhile.
“In tough times, why not express yourself by how you dress — whether you’re doing it from what’s in your closet, what’s in a vintage store [or] what you made yourself?” Singer asks. What a person chooses to wear — or live in, drive in, read or listen to if we expand the discussion — communicates, whether we like it or not. Our wardrobe can say that we value our appearance, or that we don’t. It often identifies us with a certain subculture. For better or worse, it sets us apart as lower, middle or upper class.
from the fashion industry reflecting depression era chic.
And, perhaps, fashion serves as an indicator of an economy. Singer talks a little about “depression era chic” in the interview. A New York Post article elaborates on this idea:
The duds say it all — and it’s depressing.
Taking a cue from the grim economy, this fall’s fashions at Banana Republic, Gap and H&M are featuring a distinctly Depression-era trend of cloche hats, pencil skirts, conductor caps and baggy, vintage-style dresses.
I wouldn’t have expected this kind of a trend from the fashion industry (had I been thinking about it). In other artistic segments, possibly: Painting has historically reflected social hardships; film and photography possess similar track records as I recall. While any observant twenty year old is old enough to realize that styles recur, this years’ shift in clothing design is more intentional than what generally appears to be a more simple ebb and flow to this common observer.
That said, props to the fashion industry for taking a culturally relevant direction. I’m not sure, off-hand, if it’s the right direction; one might worry that mimicking the styles of the depression might result in even more dire attitudes. The flip-side — to create elaborate clothing that defies a cultural climate — could instead instill hope.
Then again, it might also create some kind of complex in us, causing us to believe things are better than they are whereby we spend more than we actually have to spend. This is what Singer seems to refer to as morality. Towards the end of the interview, she states that “Not shopping is not a moral act right now.”
There’s actually no indication of whether she expects us to actually spend more than we have, but in the context of American consumerism the inference is believable. And such reckless spending is more-or-less what landed us in this so-called economic mess in the first place.
Photo from the Retro Radar.
Alarm clock aesthetics 12 February 2009
Posted by pcNielsen in Aesthetics, Basis for designing well, Beauty, Design, Modern culture.4 comments
I never thought it would be so difficult to find a well-designed — functionally and aesthetically — alarm clock. The two in our home now are both quite old, and some of their more basic functions recently ceased to operate. Thus we’ve been thinking about purchasing a new model for some months now.
I checked Walmart to no avail before heading over to Amazon.com. They have a large variety of items with competitive prices and a large number of user reviews. I was stunned at the hideous objects that resulted from my search. Apparently alarm clocks haven’t been redesigned in thirty years.
Of course, there are a few space-age exceptions, as well as your more expensive iPod ready fair with decent minimalist aspirations, in line with Apple products. However, I’m not so much into the coldness of the space-age aesthetic, and both of these options cost more than I wanted to pay for a simple alarm clock.
We ended up with the little clock above. It possesses all of the functionality we wanted, which was basically two alarms, a radio and the ability to set times both forward and backward. But you can’t read the time from halfway across the room. The time is backlit, and neither my wife or I can make out the digits from the bed to the dresser. Further, it’s quite bright and potentially interferes with sleep.
Oh, and the wife doesn’t like the looks of it either. I still contend it’s the best from among the options I found, but she’s correct when observing that the design is more or less blah, and that the white color pops whereas black would recede.
This is problematic. The little thing just won’t work for us, but I dread starting the seemingly futile search over again. I don’t need gimmicks, which there are an abundance of. I just want something that looks good and functions.
Perhaps we need to bring back certain principles espoused by the Bauhaus, where aesthetics were at least some part of industrial design.
