Sorrow

The art of life is the art of avoiding pain, (and) the most effectual means of being secure against pain is to retire within ourselves.  - Thomas Jefferson

Linda, my wife of 27 years died late last year from complications in the treatment of Lymphoma.  In the months since her death I have been taking a crash course in grieving, and the blog has been on hold.  Thomas Jefferson was an idealist, and a retreat into "intellectual pleasures" is an ideal that few can afford, and fewer are equipped to accomplish.

However, everyone edits the painful events of daily life, creating something of value, and that is my goal.  The last quarter century is a rich mine of experiences which I intend to distil into an array of clear, glowing memories.

So... what can I make of the deep sorrow of the last few months?  As an architectural Illustrator I try to inject emotion into concrete, glass and steel.  But I have found that deep sorrow is an enervating emotion.  Quotidian tasks are mindlessly taken up, but anything demanding a fine tuned balance is exhausting.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death.
- Shakespeare

I cannot express my grief in architectural rendering, but I can in anything expressly human or human scaled.  A specific rendering job will take me away from the pain, but will not serve to distil the memory.  The human form and the personal objects of everyday life are a touchstone that will bring me home.

I said that I inject emotion into inanimate objects, but there is a practical lesson to be learned here.  Sorrow is an emotion that doesn't sell.  Grief is an intimate feeling that, in my experience prefers solitude.  When faced with death it is best not to preach, but instead to simply be available for support.  This is not an emotion to inspire grandiose plans, or paint glowing visions of the future.  The personal and intimate is the domain of sorrow and wisdom.  Other emotions can build buildings.

So, it is back to the drawing board.  Linda is gone, and I must carry on.  But she would not have had it any other way.  She once said that if I died before her that she would still follow me.  It sounded morbid and silly at the time, but I can see the wisdom now.  She took a piece of me with her, and some of her is living in me.  That is how life works, and it is only sad that it took this long for me to realize it.

Keep me away

from the wisdom

which does not cry,

the philosophy

which does not laugh

and the greatest

which does not bow

before children.

- Kahlil Gibran

Creativity: Blogs & Balance

I just listened to an interview of a journalist who began his career covering the freedom marches that were a part of the civil rights movement in the 1960's.  His anecdotes were fascinating, but as he talked about his work in the 40 years since then, I realized that he saw everything through a 1960's lens.  The world was black and white - not racially, but in terms of good and evil.  This made me wonder how much of our lives and worldview are set in our 20's never to be changed or even questioned.  The reporter was obviously smart and well educated, but he seemed to have lost his curiosity and creativity 45 years ago.  Or perhaps he had simply limited his curiosity and creativity to non-journalistic parts of his life.

This line of thought led me to consider the creative people I have known.  The pattern I see in my "artsy" friends is that they are very creative and adventurous in one part of their lives, but very settled and staid in other parts.  Several excellent artists I know have developed a "style" which is a constant in an otherwise scattered life.  Most architects have a style of design and drawing which is consistent, but is developed in a number of ways, like variations on a theme.  Imagine the bureaucrat that "swings" on the weekend, or the rock star who has a traditional home life.  It's all a balance.

I found the interview noted above on the internet.  And, since this blog and a large portion of the stuff I browse through each day is on the internet, this seems a good place to make an observation on creativity and blogs.  I remember reading a blog comment stating that "an essay was like a painting, but a blog was like a mosaic."  Now many blogs are simply electronic essays, but it is true that most have the granularity of a mosaic's field of different stones.  Each post is often a world of its own, but taken together, a blog of a hundred posts reveals a pattern that reflects the author's view of the world.  An essay perhaps starts with a worldview, while a blog ends with a worldview.  Or said another way, the essayist begins with a clear idea of the point he wants to make, while the blogger is daily groping around for an elusive theme which becomes more clear as the blog develops.

So, which approach is right?  Which is more useful?  It seems to me that it depends on what kind of world you are living in.  A world that is confidently coherent is an essay world, but a world that is redefining itself is a blog world.  And in the same vein, a person confident in their understanding of their world will tend to write in an essay-like way with arguments and bold statements.  A person trying to make sense of a new and uncomfortable situation will write in a scattered and questioning way, which will mature and develop over time.

And what about creativity?

I would say that creativity is more likely to develop in an uncomfortable, searching, blogger format, but will eventually be expressed in its highest form via the essay.

Aliens and Aphrodite

Two articles caught my eye recently. Both address the problem of design and beauty, which is central to my book.

Michael Mehaffy and Nikos A. Salingaros: The Architect Has No Clothes, in Guernica, an on-line magazine of art & politics, analyses the alienation of designers and the society that they serve...

Empire State Plaza, Albany, NY (wikimedia commons)

"Have you ever looked at a bizarre building design and wondered, “What were the architects thinking?” Have you looked at a supposedly “ecological” industrial-looking building, and questioned how it could be truly ecological? Or have you simply felt frustrated by a building that made you uncomfortable, or felt anger when a beautiful old building was razed and replaced with a contemporary eyesore? You might be forgiven for thinking “these architects must be blind!” New research shows that in a real sense, you might actually be right."

The authors go on to cite a number of studies that show that architects see the world differently than ordinary people (they call it 'Architectural Myopia'). To any second year architectural student this is obvious (and the parents of said student are seen as kindly but boorish). To any "ordinary" person who has dealt with an architect, it is equally obvious that said architect is interesting and perhaps brilliant, but has a curiously inhuman view of reality.

This is one of those times when "nurture", or the education of a person, makes a profound change that can overwhelm the natural human inclinations. It is also important to note that the most "out there" architects are below the age of 30. Older architects seem to settle back into a design attitude that takes into account the need for architecture to accommodate real people, while keeping an "architectural" sense.

The authors go on to date this Architectural Myopia to the early 1900's, driven by the industrial revolution and the breakdown of the traditional order. "Peter Behrens, the father of corporate branding, was given the challenge of developing the first architectural “branding” for the buildings of the German Electrical Equipment Firm AEG. He did so by using elementary industrial geometries, formed into a romantic and iconic expressive shape. The building itself was now a kind of billboard for the company—an attention-getting new product design in its own right. It was not a coincidence that three of his young colleagues went on to profoundly shape architecture in the 20th Century: Le Corbusier, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, and Walter Gropius."

I am not sold on their solutions to this problem (community involvement, etc.), but the article certainly nails the problem. Read the whole thing.

Old New York State Capitol Building, Albany, NY (wikimedia Commons)

Beauty Now in the Eye of the Algorithm - New image recognition technology judges photographic aesthetics looks at a new computerized way of recognizing "beauty"...



"New technology from Xerox can sort photos not just by their content but also according to their aesthetic qualities, such as which portraits are close-in and well-lit, or which wildlife shots are least cluttered."

This lead paragraph covers the strengths and the limitations of such a program. "Close-in", "well-lit", and "uncluttered" are all good rules to follow in getting a pleasing image. And I'm sure that an algorithm can be created that covers a dozen other rules. This computerized system is especially useful in portraits, where the focus is on a familiar thing, but the "beauty" is in studying the variation in detail.

What is missing here is that humans are drawn to more then a set of rules. Once the rules are established and applied regularly, someone will do the exact opposite, just to stand out. Eventually lots of people will be "rebelling", and you will find a new "style" that is surrounded by its own rules. The new style gets established, new rebels go to work, and the cycle keeps going. The Style magazines of the New York Times are a constant reminder of this never ending rebirth.

As much as I like new technology, I doubt that computers will ever "settle" the definition of beauty. However, using new programs to explore the question sounds like fun.

Hard and Soft Shadows

Back when I was just a "kid with a dream" I met the preeminent architectural perspectivist, Steve Oles.  He was one of those rare people who are both a genius and a gentleman.  The gentleman was soft spoken and courteous,  with a barely noticeable southern accent.  The genius manifested itself as we walked through midtown Manhattan, and he pointed out the various effects of light in the city canyons.

One of his comments regarded the play of sharp and fuzzy shadows cast by the tall buildings and closer structures.  I had seen the shadows before, but I hadn't "seen" them.  And so, some examples and comments on hard and soft shadows...

This watercolor shows sunset light casting shadows on the wall.  Soft shadows on the right from the window opening, and sharp shadows from the lamp and chair.

The same effect shows up in this pastel of the New York Public Library.  The soft shadow is cast by the building across 5th Avenue.

The soft gradation on the Woolworth Building above, assumes a low sun catching the tower top only, producing a strong articulation in the sunlight, and a more subdued modeling in the cool shadows.

The typical Beaux-Art elevation, like the entrance above, assumes sharp shadows cast by the elements of the building itself.

This rendering of the same building shows a complex interplay of soft and hard shadows, and window reflections.  It is a very un Beaux-Art effect.

Although soft shadows occur most naturally (and usefully) in exterior renderings, a large interior space with glass roof can produce the same soft shadow, which can also be very useful in framing and composing a rendering.

Whereas the sunlit areas show soft and hard shadows, the areas like the parking lot above produce ambient light shadows below and between the cars.  These are the "occlusion shadows" that show up as pools of soft darkness between objects in ambient light situations.

These shadows occur all around you all the time.  Everyone expects them without realizing it consciously.  So use that expectation to rearrange your composition and refocus your rendering.

See also Natural Spotlights.

Using Dark and Light 1

Illness in the family is keeping me busy, so this will be quick.

I saw this photo in the Economist magazine.

It reminded me that I should throw out some examples that use dark and light to define an object.  You might think that a blue industrial building against a blue sky would yield a building that "melts" into the background.  It can, but does not have to.  The sky has an amazing amount of variation, even if it is cloudless.  Try taking a series of photographs of a clear blue sky, pointing in all directions including straight up.  When you compare the photos side by side, you will notice a lighter horizon area, and also a lightening toward the area near the sun.  This is not new or earthshaking, but is good to know if you are illustrating architecture.

So, if you are interested in making a building stand out you can simply reverse the grading of light to dark so as to make it contrast with the background.  Again, simple and obvious, but all too often overlooked.

This pastel shows the same trick, except that (being an aerial view) it uses the light sky and darkish city streets as the foil for the tower's reversing values.

This sketch of a proposed cottage in Maine (from Arthur Guptill's Sketching and Rendering in Pencil) shows that anything can be used for the defining contrast.  In this case the sunlit wall at the right is nicely shown off by the dark trees behind. while the dark roof works against the lighter sky.

This watercolor of cherries in a bowl illustrates the natural shadows that can define such a concave shape.

In portraiture the same rule is often applied.  A figure in side or three-quarter lighting will have a dark and a light side.  Playing this off of a graded mid-tone background can pop the subject out nicely.

A reflective glass building can have a lot of complex patterns happening, but it still needs to stand out in some way.  I decided to try a dusk view for this tower in China, creating a glowing facade at the base, and a dark on light contrast at the top.

This pencil drawing of a highrise proposal at Canary Wharf in London uses a reverse value trick that goes back 100 years and more.  Just because it is old doesn't mean that it isn't effective.

In architectural illustration reverse values work best with long structures like towers.  It can also be used with long, low facades.  In the Rainbow Bridge US Customs Inspection Building at Niagara Falls, the sunlit end on the left is placed against a dark rack of clouds, while the other end is dark on light.  This helps to break up the necessarily long building, giving the image more interest.  The rainbow was my own "over the top" idea which was not in any way the responsibility of the architect or client.

There are no limits to the variations you can try once you start playing one plane off another.  And the strong value structure leaves you open to color experiments.

Of course you don't have to paint gradients across the entire image.  You can darken or lighten at the edges where it counts, and let the viewer's imagination do the rest.  The slight shading above the reclining nude defines the shape crisply, while the parallel dark and light lines anchor the figure to the ground.

This barely touches on the subject, so I imagine I'll be back sometime.

Stability and Statues

Politicians are necessary - at least they have existed throughout human history, and have been a part of human progress.  A politician has to take 100's, 1000's, even millions of people, each with different interests and characteristics, and convince them to pursue a common goal, with the politician in charge.  Of course this can be done with violence and coercion, but it is best achieved with persuasion.  Democracy, where the people believe that they originally envisioned the common goal, and are merely handing the management of it to the politician, is the most effective system in that the people are entirely behind the idea and the politician.

On the other hand, following Penn Jillette's piece in the Wall Street Journal of Sept. 10, 2011, titled Who's the Real Illusionist?... I hope this is not too cynical.  Politicians are essentially full time magicians on the public stage.  they have to make a majority of "subjects" believe in, like, and vote for them.  That task is fairly easy in a small tribal group, but a polyglot mix of hundreds of millions of people is harder to crack, even with mass media.  And, note the "politicians" includes high level bureaucrats, union leaders, college presidents, non profit leaders, upper military officers, and any number of minor, over-credentialed, ambitious wannabee organizers.  The game appears to be 3 card monty, and the trick to master is the "lift shuffle", where the result seems random but is actually controlled.  The incentive for the politician to work hard to create the illusion is personal power (and resultant wealth).  The incentive for the public to believe the politician's illusion is stability, or the suppression of uncertainty.

Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed.  -from the Declaration of Independence

Bottom line... in a "free-market" political system (non coercive, multi-party, free-speech) the politician is a necessary "broker", in that he/she listens to voters and tries to find a middle ground amenable to the majority.  Yes, many pols in "safe" districts will be mindlessly partisan (there being no downside), but most pols live in fairly balanced districts (district voter registration doesn't tend to run higher than 60% for the majority party, and only 60-80% of eligible voters tend to be registered).  So when people say "all politicians are corrupt", or "they don't care what I think", they are saying what I used to think; but I was and they are wrong.  Corrupt and unresponsive pols need to be voted out of office, but the rest are at least necessary to a stable society, and the best are worthy of being put on a pedestal (after they are dead, of course).

Camera Clipping

A recent Economist article called "Cameras get cleverer" reports on digital cameras that take multiple images at different exposures and then assembles the optimal pieces into a complete picture, assuring consistent light and detail throughout the final image.  This solves the photographic problem called "clipping".  If you have a digital camera you will occasionally take a photo where sections of your picture will look like they were cut out, or will flash on and off, indicating that the light is too strong or too weak for the sensors to record any detail.  Film cameras have the same problem, but simply give you an image where there is no detail, in spite of what you saw through the viewfinder.  This is why early photography of buildings was always done during an overcast day where sunlit surfaces were not too bright and shadows were not too dark.

The Economist called the resulting computer adjusted image (above) "preternaturally well lit".  I would call it creepy myself.  It saves the details, but loses the reality.

Artists have always wrestled with the same problem, but the adjustment was filtered through the eyes, mind and experience of the artist.  Areas in shadow were subtly detailed, while well lit but non-essential elements were abstracted or ignored.  The choice of emphasis made it Art (The Captives by N.C. Wyeth).

Architectural illustration tends toward the over-lit "preternatural" in too many cases.  Some things need emphasis and detailing, but much can and should be left to the imagination.

The above rendering of an astronaut's memorial gives considerable detailing to the semi-silhouetted memorial, but leaves most everything else an abstract suggestion.

The photo-montage of Broadway near Times Square shows the limits of even a good photograph.  The building details are limited and the lighting is glaring.

This rendering of the north end of Times Square gives the same atmosphere as the photo-montage, but eases the contrast and allows detail at the focus of the view.  The central building is handled in such a way that color and space are understandable without having to blacken the context.

The elimination of clipping comes naturally to anyone sketching.  The shadowed areas under the arch were nearly black in a photograph I took, but the concentric "dentils" were plane to see when sitting across the street. 

Of course the artist's job is not illuminating the shadows.  Sometimes you need to obfuscate to get your point across.  My older brother is brilliant and driven, but we don't always see "eye to eye".  My watercolor of him seems to sum it all nicely.

In art, as in any highly unusual, complex question, be eccentric, be indirect, and always more across the grain looking for the underlying pattern.