Nocturne Radio

Now that the thesis proposal is turned in, I have nothing to do but wait. Okay, that's not really true, I have lots of other work to attend to, but when reading this today, I was reminded of seeing a version at the Minneapolis Institute of Arts. Which in turn reminded me of the Nocturne Radio, also at the MIA. (If you give a girl a Bauhaus designer...)

I know that as you're looking at the incredibly blue picture above, you're not overwhelmed. To be honest, neither was I as I memorized facts about it in Survey of Dec Arts 2 at this time last year. Made by Walter Dorwin Teague in 1937, manufactured by the Sparton Corporation, made of glass. Yeah, sure. It's a radio. And I was told it was a giant radio. The measurements on the MIA website list it as "H. 46 x W. 43 1/4 x D. 12 in." But that still doesn't really give you any idea as to how imposing, startling, and life-changing this radio is.

This radio is part of the Northwest Modernism Collection, which is tucked nicely away on the third floor of the institute. I was visiting this fall and looked forward to seeing iconic works by designers I'd come to love over the previous year. But none of this prepared me for what would happen when I would turn the corner into the exhibit space and find myself confronted with this marvel of design. I was speechless. The radio was breathtaking. It was huge, but not imposing. The reflective glass front was inviting, not repelling. I wanted to touch it and absorb all its perfect design glory through my skin. This sounds disturbing, doesn't it? But I was enthralled. It was a religious experience. Sadly, it was against a wall, so I could not fully appreciate it in the round, but I leaned as close as possible to absorb every aspect of it. From the sides and the front--I couldn't pull myself away. But for my deep abiding respect for the rules of "no touching!" in museums, I would have hugged this radio. There are other iconic modern pieces in this collection, and it covers a range of things from American to European to Arts and Crafts to Art Deco. But none struck me or affected me so deeply or so powerfully as the Nocturne Radio.

According to the entry about this radio, it was "intended to appeal to men, who supposedly would be enthralled by its futuristic form and space-age technology." Perhaps I have the same taste of a man of the 1930s, but that's fine by me.

A Brief History of Art v. Craft: Part 2

Secession Style in Austria

After Ruskininan ideals permeated England, they hopped across the Channel and filtered through Europe. In the late 19th century, society underwent great changes and this was reflected in art. Art Nouveau is the name given to the movement that grew out of this desire for change, most closely associated with France and Belgium's "whiplash" lines, like we saw here with Guimard.

But it was Austria and the Secessionists who best embraced the ideas of the artisan-craftsmen. After pulling away from the state-sponsored fine art program (thus the name "Secession") Gustav Klimt, Koloman Moser, Otto Wagner and others created the Wiener Werkstatte to give students of the Secession a place to practice their craft, much like Ashbee's Guild of Handicraft. The leaders of the movement overlapped from fine arts--such as Klimt--and the decorative arts--like Moser--and worked together to created gesamtkunstwerks. Their building in Vienna is imposing, yet with a sense of forward-thinking classicism. With it they combined architecture, fine art, and decorative arts and promoted the ideals of new art that would elevate society. Unlike Morris, the Secessionists realized the expense of handcrafted objects was a limiting factor. Rather than elevate all of society, they specifically targeted the middle class and promoted their quality works to elevating this sector to a greater plane of well-decorated existence. The goal was to "produce good, simple domestic requisites" that would "redeem middle class taste" while simultaneously "proclaiming the nature of the material." (Greenhalgh, Art Nouveau, 305-306)

They were able to do much of their work as a group through the Wiener Werkstatte. As a group, they were given commissions to create homes, furniture, and art that embraced their specific style. The Purkersdorf Sanatorium, built 1904-1905, was designed by Josef Hoffmann, but the furniture (pictured above) and interior decoration were designed by other members of the Werkstatte. They also worked as individuals, each with a unique decorative style that embraced not the ideas of art or craft, but the idea of being artisans. There is no line between the two for the Viennese Secession, they are equal parts of a whole that must work in tandem to produce beautiful and functional objects.

Image from here.

A Brief History of Art v. Craft: Part 1

William Morris and the Arts and Crafts Movement

This is much more difficult than I originally thought it would be when I decided to tackle this prickly subject. There is just so much history at play in the early part, and then so many feelings as we move into the 20th century. But, we'll start with Morris and his beliefs about elevating handicraft to the same level as fine art. He believed there wasn't a difference, and that all art, be it of the "fine" category or "craft" category should be used to elevate people.

The Industrial Revolution allowed mechanization to play a role in the creation of furniture, metal, glass, and other previously only-made-by-hand works in ways that changed the relationship of craft-maker and object. Some people embraced this idea, seeing that more pieces could be produced more quickly and at a lower cost. William Morris, and others, like C.R. Ashbee, wanted to keep the production costs low, while simultaneously re-connecting the maker and the object. Morris, connected to a variety of other artists who were part of the Pre-Raphaelite Movement, designed furniture, wallpaper, textiles (above), and other decorative arts for craftsmen to create in workshops. His goal was to bring the maker back to the forefront of the object and to reject the machine, while keeping things at a low cost for everyone to afford. If he could bring together the craftsman and object, he could also make good design available for everyone and thus change society's inequalities.

Sadly, this model did not make money for Morris, nor did it change social inequality, and he was forced to change his ideas. But the idea of bringing the object and the maker together on a deeper level struck a chord with a number of people, not just in England, but across Europe and into the United States. A new paradigm was created for the role of craftsmen in society.

I'll be honest: I don't feel like I discussed this well at all--I didn't even mention Ruskin! But its hard to explain this in so small a space. So here's a brief bibliography to learn more about the Arts and Crafts movement.

Cumming, Elizabeth, and Kaplan, Wendy, Arts & Crafts Movement. London: Thames & Hudson, 1991.

Naylor, Gillian. The Arts and Crafts Movement: A Study its Sources, Ideals and Influence on Design Theory. London: Studio Vista, 1971.

Pevsner, Nikolaus. Pioneers of Modern Design: From William Morris to Walter Gropius. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2005.

Todd, Pamela. William Morris and the Arts and Crafts Home. Bath, England: Palazzo Editions Limited for Chronicle Books, 2005.

Image from here.

A Brief History of Art v. Craft: Introduction

As requested, the next series will cover the differences between art and craft. Or arts and crafts. Or just what is craft? Aren't crafts those things you made at summer camp with yarn, Elmer's glue, and popsicle sticks? Yes, that's one definition of craft. But the craft I'll explore over the next few posts is the idea behind the contemporary artistic movement, what craftspeople do, who they are, and why I care. I consider myself a craftsperson, as in "one who makes crafts." The more common term would be "potter" but I am like those who work in wood, clay, fiber, metal, plastic, found objects, and other forms in that I work with my hands to create an object.

I plan to write my thesis (should all the stars align properly) on the beginnings of the contemporary craft era. In the post-World War II period in the United States, craft-making changed drastically for a variety of reasons. But this is only one part of the story. I will explore those reasons as we move forward, but I will go chronologically, starting with William Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement in England in the late 19th century. Granted, handmade objects of beauty and fine workmanship were on the scene much earlier, but it was in this time that people began to seek to align such objects with fine art. The Industrial Revolution and mechanization changed attitudes and feelings toward object-making. There is much more to this, but I'll discuss that in my next post. But for now, I'm going to glue some popsicle sticks together.

Up next: William Morris and How Craft Can Save the World.

Image from here.

Top 4 Designers: Part 4

Ceramics:

I saved this one for the last post so I could savor the process of narrowing it down. As a potter (or ceramicist, if you will) I feel most intimately connected to designers and creators in this medium. And yet, I spent almost no time at all deciding on my favorite designer for ceramics. But before I reveal it (if you can't tell by the photo), I want to note the artists and designers that provide me with inspiration for my own work. While I posted "honorable mentions" with my other posts, I can't narrow it down to just one when it comes to ceramics. Knowing the process of working clay as intimately as I do, I'm always searching for designs that speak to me, awe me, and make me want to sit at the wheel and turn something out. The following designers and artists inspire me to do just that.

Russell Wright: Wright's greatest work is often cited as his American Modern Dinnerware. Designed in the 1950s with a decidedly Post-War aesthetic, the smooth lines and muted colors re-create the falsely glossy images we have of the era following World War II.

Eva Zeisel: Best known for her Town and Country dinnerware service, Zeisel's cuddly pieces evoke warmth and a sense of home. Not only is she a great designer, her life story is pretty amazing!

Viktor Schreckengost: I love the Jazz Bowl series. An industrial designer of all types, Schreckengost's Jazz Bowl captures the movement, line, tone, and color of jazz in ceramic.

David Pier: I actually just learned about Pier from last month's Ceramics Monthly where he discussed the development of his Ultimate Coffee Cup. A contemporary designer working to solve contemporary problems, I'm inspired by his work and what he seeks to do.

Now, onto my favorite designer in ceramics: Shoji Hamada.

A Japanese potter who moved to England to work with the renown Bernard Leach in the 1920s, Hamada's work combines the Japanese aesthetic and understanding of clay with Leach's studio approach to pottery. Leach is often considered the grandfather of the studio clay movement, but I believe it is Hamada's works with their simplicity of line, simple brushstrokes in glazing, and attention to detail that make him more of an influence in ceramic design today. The Japanese tradition of ceramics goes back much farther than any of us of European descent can imagine, and that tradition carries through Hamada's designs. Credited with bringing back the ideas of the folk potter to Japan, Hamada returned from his time in England with Leach in 1923 and opened the studio where he would spend the rest of his life working.

I don't know as much about Hamada as I would like. I was fortunate enough to handle one of his pieces when on a "behind the scenes" object-handling tour at the Freer Gallery last spring. My ceramics class was allowed into storage and each of us chose a piece we wanted to to handle as part of the lesson. Everyone walked around choosing what they thought would be interesting to see and touch, but I was instantly drawn to the case of 20th century works. When I pointed out my piece to the curator, he looked at me and said, "That's a Hamada, good choice" in a very surprised, yet approving tone. I wasn't sure how I knew it was a Hamada as it was unlabeled, but I knew I liked and and wanted the chance to touch it. I'm a tactile learner, after all. It was a deep iron-red glazed bowl with ink-black lines in a linear pattern. I was enamored. Those are the moments that make me want to stay in the museum world. Being close to a hero through the power of an object, being connected to the past, and looking forward to what as a potter I can create from that connection. Photo from here.

As an additional note: I've very much enjoyed these entries, so please feel free to suggest ideas for more series you'd like to see me write. Be it museums, more specific designers, or other things you'd like to know my thoughts on, I'm happy to write if I'm inspired!

Top 4 Designers: Part 3

Metal:

This Top 4 Designers task is starting to seem a bit daunting. I've had over a week to dwell on it, but somehow choosing a metal artist/craftsman/designer seems so difficult. I feel I know even less about metal than I do about furniture! I've been reading Objects: USA (1969) and Nordness, the curator, is playing in my mind in how I decide what makes people designers. I've tended toward the more Modern approach on the last two, but for this, I'm harkening back to an earlier era for my favorite designer in metal.

Rejected in the furniture category (yes, he designed furniture), Guimard's easily recognized Metro entrances and powerful Art Nouveau style never cease to leave me with my mouth hanging open in worshipful awe. Walking around Paris this past summer made me feel like I had an old friend as I would turn corners and see his plant-like forms rising from the pavement. His Castel Beranger building entrance gate undulates in a way that is sensual, evocative, and makes my skin tingle. Guimard designed the entire building as a gesamtkunstwerk with the desire to connect the interior of the building with the exterior world of Paris. Other designers of the period designed whole buildings in the "whiplash style" as well, but it was Guimard's adherence to the progressive ideals of his day that makes his memorable and unique. Younger than his design contemporaries, Guimard quickly embraced new technology--incorporating electricity into his designs--and pushing metal to new limits of design. Even though the Art Nouveau style ended soon after the turn of the century, Guimard's innovations still stand as a testament to his design genius.

The photo for this post comes from the Victoria and Albert museum. (Yet again, I know.) This gate can be found in their Ironwork Gallery, and as soon as I saw it I knew it was Guimard. I love identifying pieces without the label as it makes me feel like my education is not wasted.

Up next: My top ceramics designer.

Honorable mention: Stuart Golder because he emailed me back when I wrote a paper on his work.

Top 4 Designers: Part 2

Furniture:

I thought about this one for a long time. Known for once saying, "I hate furniture," I struggled to choose a designer I could easily call my favorite. While I appreciate furniture for it's functionality--I do love my bed--it's often hard for me to appreciate it from a design standpoint. I waffled between Le Corbusier, Charlotte Perriand, Emile Galle, Josef Hoffmann (can you tell I like the early 20th century?) and many others before deciding that Charles and Ray Eames win this one. (They're also featured on Frasier!)

They began designing and producing when decorative arts and industrial design collided and their resulting body of work is eye-catching, Modern, and elegant, yet homey. Unlike Chihuly, I didn't know the Eameses until last year's survey class, where I discovered the Lounge Chair, Wood, designed in the mid-1940s, and was immediately captured. The photo above is the LCW I found in the 20th Century Gallery at the Victoria and Albert Museum. The smooth wood, the rounded edges, and the stable four-legged form all speak volumes about design, comfort, and use of new materials. They were able to use modern machining techniques and materials like plywood in the Post-War era to create affordable and comfortable furniture.

I also love the lounge chair and ottoman for it's molded plywood, which they don't try to hide, and the leather upholstery that always makes me feel as though it belongs somewhere between an office and a rec room. Charles and Ray Eames also experimented with molded fiberglass, after working with their friend Eero Saarinen on his womb chair. Charles and Ray, however, were the first to leave the new material exposed and are credited with developing a modern, sleeker aesthetic for their furniture.

Their designs are now available through Herman Miller, should you too fall in love.

Honorable Mention: John Belter and his fabulous tete-a-tete.