balding angrily

This morning I got the chance to go to a press preview (sounds so official, right?) of a new exhibit of architectural models at the Nasher Sculpture Center. It’s called The Art of Architecture: Foster + Partners, and it was planned in conjunction with the eminent opening of Dallas’ new Winspear Opera House, designed by Foster + Partners.

Aside from the room dedicated to the Winspear, there were approximately twenty other architectural models of bass wood, plastic, lights, and, in one case, a working elevator. Spencer de Grey, Head of Design at Foster + Partners walked the various reporters around the exhibition space and talked about each project.

But this is all about me. It’s my website, dammit. I got the invitation through my work with The Advocate, even though The Advocate doesn’t cover Dallas’ expanding arts district—the Winspear and Nasher being key components— so I took the opportunity to shoot a whole lot of photographs of beautiful models. The Nasher doesn’t usually permit photography, so, score!

A photography teacher once told my class, “The only difference between professional photographers and you is that the professional photographers don’t show you their mistakes.” In that vein, I’m only showing you my favorites.

One note: the Nasher Sculpture Center is just an amazing indoor space for photography. Only one of these photographs required a flash. It’s always awesome to get good photographs with ambient light. I also got to play with photoshop to correct lens distortions—I made vertical lines true.

De Grey talks about one of the models in the exhibition.

 A model of The Great Court at the British Museum in London. I would like to be able to erase myself out of the reflection. I like the other reflections.

I tried to capture the eagles’ nest that the model builders had placed on this tower platform. The nest didn’t come out clearly, but I still like the tower structure against the beautiful ceiling treatment inside the Nasher.

He’s a little man doing his little job.

This is the only photo that has a flash, and I’m very proud of myself that I was able to manipulate the flash control on my camera so that it doesn’t look like a flash photo. I love macro photography; I think I need to get a macro lens.

As you can tell, the updates for my blog have started to dwindle. Yeah, it may be a cop-out to say I’m busy, but it’s the truth. And I’m busy doing stuff that I find exciting. So I guess I can at least update you on those small things that are keeping me from you, my beloved fan. (Do I really still have any of those?)

The Advocate Magazine - On the three days I’m not at my job in architecture, I’m interning at a local magazine. I just finished my first article for them that will get published in March. The article tells a few stories about a specific intersection that’s getting a lot of attention locally. Whole Foods is building a new store at this intersection which is really the center of this particular community. I’m really proud of my work on the article, and I’m looking forward to seeing it published.

Right now I’m working on a couple of photograph-heavy pieces for the magazine’s annual design issue. I’m interviewing some architects and trying to line up some photo-shoots of remodeled bathrooms. These are a nice break from the intensive research I had to do for the other article.

Working Out/Maintaining Health - Again, it seems silly to write about this, but I do spend a lot of time in the gym. That takes me away from you, dear reader. And instead of being apologetic about it, I might as well admit to it and be proud of what I’ve accomplished. Since early 2007 I’ve taken 20 pounds off, and it just feels really, really great. I like looking at myself in the mirror now. And I feel good, up, happy. All those things that lead to boring writing.

Editing the YAF Connection - In Salt Lake City, at our end-of-year meeting, I received a lot of strokes from my colleagues on the work I did last year for the YAF Connection. They said that I greatly exceeded expectations, and that I was a valuable asset to the group. These things gathered together validate that I’m not making a mistake by pursuing this “writing” thing.

Miscellanea - Jerry and I have been going to a lot of open houses; we’re feeling out the Dallas real estate market, finding out what our money can buy. When we decide to buy, we’ll be educated.

Tonight Jerry and I are hosting our open house at our loft. Every month our building picks a floor, and the tenants on that floor open up their lofts if they want. The rest of the building comes to the open lofts and judges them. Jerry’s been working himself into a lather to make sure that we win “best loft.” I don’t think we will, or maybe it’s more correct to say that I don’t care a whole lot. I just hope people enjoy our loft.

Sunday we’re pulling hosting duties for my family. Over the holidays we didn’t connect with them, so this is to make up for that. I’ll be cooking two recipes, one from our new favorite Food TV personality, Ina Garten.

That’s about it. I can’t promise more frequent updates because, like I said, I’m enjoying the work that’s keeping me away from the blog. Plus I’m pretty proud of the posts I HAVE been putting up. Lately, I’m thinking that I’d rather have fewer quality posts than more frequent “blah” posts. Lately, anyway. Except for this one. This one’s shit.

This chandelier is located under the children’s section of the Ikea catalog. Why is Ikea encouraging insufferableness in our young ones? In a child’s room, this says to me, “I want my nanny.” In an adult’s room, it says to me, “I took the night off from my scrap-booking group and put this together. You like?”

Verdict: Ick.

I never understood brown paper bags as a lighting option. They appear on the edges of front lawns around Halloween, and they don’t go away until after the New Year. I’m sure Crate & Barrel borrowed some little-known custom from an Asian culture and told the U.S., “Look! It’s the same bag you used to bring your lunch to school! But instead of soggy tuna fish sandwiches, this paper bag is full of light!”

Ikea has done C&B three better. They grouped the bags in a little choir, colored the bags and stuck them on a wall. Now instead of spoiled mayonnaise, I think of Valentine’s Day “mailboxes” lined next to the blackboard. And mine’s empty. Thanks for the painful memories, Ikea.

Verdict: Boo-hoo.

Lighting should never have to do double duty. Either a thing is an uplight or a reading light. Not both. If we are really in need of a multi-function light, why not 3, 4, or 5 different functions? Why not create a Swiss Army Lamp? A decorative sconce, a chandelier, a nightlight, a desk lamp, and, for kicks, an overhead projector, all in one fixture. Why not? Because it would look like an electrical monster grafting itself onto the ceilings and walls of your living room. You would be frightened of such a light. Well, this uplight/reading light thing is the evolutionary ancestor to that monster.

Verdict: Run away.

With three negative reviews written, I had to find a light that I liked. This reminds me of a gift I got for college graduation, a carved wood piper with a wood dowel stuck up its ass planted into a section of a small tree trunk. It was a heinous little sculpture, and I hope to Jesus that the giver never finds my website. That said, this light reminds me of that abomination if it were flipped on its head, the piper replaced with a black bowling ball, and the whole thing given a polish and gloss. I like the result.

Verdict: Better graduation gift than carved driftwood.

This little fella’s name is Spöka. He or she has two siblings named Spöka and Spöka. When did George Foreman move to Sweden and start naming children’s nightlights for Ikea?

Verdict: I fucking love Spöka. He or she makes me pee my bed with glee.

Thank you, Keith for this post. You are always welcome here, you dirty centrist.

Here’s the promised follow-up. I mentioned in the comments to the last post that there was a news crew taping my time in the wheelchair. Here it is. Bask in my luminescence.

Also, for Nick, the charity is Winners on Wheels. I would link to it, but the website is down. One of the people in charge of the event, the contact with Winners on Wheels, tried explaining why the website was down, but I was too busy bitching about getting water to hear her.

I spent today in a wheelchair; my company sponsored my time, giving money to a local charity. I’ll post the name of the charity when I can find it. The event is designed to make architects aware of the specific challenges of the wheelchair-bound.

I knew it was going to be difficult, in general terms. Therefore, I’ll focus on a specific.

When did we become so lazy and/or absent-minded that we need a device to close a door for us? I can think of only one place where a door closer is appropriate - at a door that closes in the event of a fire.

You might say, “But Alex, what about at shop entrances? Isn’t that a matter of security? Aren’t automatically closing and locking doors appropriate there?”

No. No they’re not. If we have become so averse to turning around to close the door behind us, we deserve to have our shit stolen. If we have trained generations of people that the door will close itself, then it is our own damn fault. If our national security is at risk because someone forgot to close the damn door, we were never really secure.

You might say, “But Alex, what about doors into bathrooms? Surely, we need to protect the public from seeing dirty bathrooms and/or male body parts.”

No. No we don’t. Again, if you can’t turn around to close a door, you deserve to have your wang looked upon. And again, if, as a society, we have become so lazy that we’re not training people to close doors, we deserve an unwelcome peepshow.

Swinging doors are cloves of garlic to a person in a wheelchair - if a person in a wheelchair is a vampire. Door closers are prickly spines on that garlic - if garlic had prickly spines. Do this. Pick up one of those hand-held counters popular with amusement park line attendants. Carry it around with you one day and click it every time you go through a swinging door. Click it twice if the door has a closer. Fuck it; forget the counter. Just count how many times you have to open a swinging door in a day.

Imagine the number you get is the amount of times you spilled hot coffee on yourself. You would be justifiably afraid of coffee. But you can’t give up coffee, and you can’t NOT spill coffee on yourself. In order to function, every day is a constant barrage of messing your shirt and burning your nipples.

By the end of the day, I feared doors. I feared leaving my cubicle to go to the bathroom. I feared my daily [walk] to Starbuck’s. I feared going to the kitchenette to get a glass of water. I preferred gas pains and a screaming bladder to negotiating the path to the bathroom. I preferred the dull boredom of my computer screen to turning around in my cramped cubicle to look out the window.

But don’t let me discourage you from doing a similar exercise, especially for charity. I’ll do it again next year if only to remind myself how the smallest things can be huge for someone else.

I got a very nice note from Frank aka Lynch, the man behind Crackspotting telling me he checks the site regularly.  So, hello Frank!  He assured me that people are reading, and that I ought to install some sort of tracker to find out who’s coming to the site.  If I ever learn how to code for myself, that’s something I’ll try and perhaps maybe think about implementing a plan-of-action for sometime in the future.  I like the idea of peeking back at those who are peeking at me.

In the meantime, J & I are packing and moving, so I don’t have a whole lot of time to think of creative things to say.

So I’ll leave you with this product catalog of a lighting/camera mounting pole that suctions to the floor and ceiling.  I thought it was super-cool when I saw it in Storehouse Furniture, and we intend on installing a screen in our new loft using it.