Sweet Maps

This blog post goes out to all of my fel­low his­tory buffs.

I love fun ways of dis­play­ing data and infor­ma­tion, and while research­ing this month’s blog topic, Information Graphics, I found a trea­sure trove of cool visual time­line maps on History Shots.

Each map dis­plays its data in a way that is aes­thet­i­cally pleas­ing and frankly, pretty darn fun. There’s a lit­tle some­thing for every­one in their web store, whether you’re into music or space travel.

Take a look at a few of my favorites below:

If you were into the space race, or wanted to be an astro­naut grow­ing up:

The his­tory of major ball­parks is avail­able for your favorite sports junkie:

The ENTIRE geneal­ogy of Rock n’ Roll, from the very beginning:

And for all of you out there who love sea crea­tures, there is a chart dis­play­ing where you can find out where the whales are partying:

Storm King

I’ve been liv­ing in NYC for quite some time and I’m embar­rassed to say there are a num­ber of places I’ve yet to visit — this list includes Storm King. From the web­site: “Widely known as one of the world’s out­stand­ing sculp­ture parks, Storm King Art Center is located approx­i­mately one hour north of New York City, in New York’s Hudson Valley. Storm King’s per­ma­nent col­lec­tion of sculp­ture, dat­ing from 1945 to the present, includes works by many of the twen­ti­eth century’s most influ­en­tial artists, inte­grated into a pris­tine, 500-acre land­scape of rolling hills, fields, and woodlands.”

The out­door museum, which opened in 1960, is a lit­tle over an hour out of the city, and is sup­pos­edly a breath­tak­ing look at art from around the globe. It includes works by such vision­ar­ies as Isamu Noguchi (also respon­si­ble for the Noguchi Gardens in Queens, another spot on my list), Richard Serra, and David Smith, whose col­lec­tion inspired the open­ing of the park in the first place.

The per­ma­nent col­lec­tion is impres­sive enough, but this year they are cel­e­brat­ing their 50th anniver­sary and they have asked ten artists to cre­ate a new work or select one to loan to the sculp­ture park. I hope to get there this sum­mer so I don’t miss any­thing! A few works below:

Kenneth Snelson
Free Ride Home, 1974

Isamu Noguchi
Momo Taro, 1977 – 78

Richard Serra
Schunnemunk Fork, 1990 – 91

David Smith
Three Ovals Soar, 1960

Click on each image to find the orig­i­nal photo source.

The Not So Public Art of Julie Mehretu

Source: http://​www​.flickr​.com/​p​h​o​t​o​s​/​s​i​x​t​e​e​n​-​m​i​l​e​s​/​s​e​t​s​/​7​2​1​5​7​6​2​3​8​4​2​8​4​8​5​34/

Way back in 2007, before the finan­cial cri­sis, Goldman Sachs’s com­mis­sioned Ethiopian born artist Julie Mehretu to con­struct a 23′ by 80′ mural in their new steel and plate glass build­ing in lower Manhattan. The now-complete mural has come under a lot of recent con­tro­versy, the obvi­ous being the $5 mil­lion dol­lar com­mis­sion from Goldman Sachs, who played a large role in the crash of 2008. The mural is also sup­posed to be an abstract rep­re­sen­ta­tion of the his­tory and devel­op­ment of cap­i­tal­ism, but Mehretu refuses to actu­ally com­ment on the cur­rent eco­nomic envi­ron­ment or Goldman Sachs’s par­tic­i­pa­tion in the down­turn of the world­wide econ­omy other than: “I don’t see it as an evil insti­tu­tion, but as part of the larger sys­tem that we all par­tic­i­pate in. We’re all a part of it.” Another point of con­tro­versy is the lack of public-ness of this pub­lic art. The wall used for the mural faces plate glass win­dows, but with struc­tural and nat­ural obstruc­tions, as well as glare and reflec­tion, it is hard to actu­ally see the mural.

Source: http://​www​.flickr​.com/​p​h​o​t​o​s​/​s​i​x​t​e​e​n​-​m​i​l​e​s​/​s​e​t​s​/​7​2​1​5​7​6​2​3​8​4​2​8​4​8​5​34/

I per­son­ally have never been a huge fan of abstract art, and in this case I don’t feel much of a con­nec­tion between the growth of cap­i­tal­ism and these bright shapes and col­ors, though I can appre­ci­ate the work and detail that go into such a mas­sive piece of art. I feel like the actual mean­ing of this work is more shared between the artist and Goldman Sachs and holds less value to the public.

To learn more about the artist and her process check out The New Yorker’s pro­file on Mehretu.

Subway Art

We New Yorkers spend quite a bit of time under­ground rid­ing the sub­way. In fact, I wrote the begin­ning of this blog post on my phone while rid­ing the R train.

More often than not, we are rush­ing around, try­ing to get from here to there, and in the mean­time we miss a cool fea­ture of our city’s sub­way sys­tem: pub­lic art. Platforms and hall­ways are laden with funny stat­ues, col­or­ful mosaics and, of course, the occa­sional poster with a mustache.

If you’re up for a lit­tle rainy day adven­ture (or you have an unlim­ited fare Metro Card), there are some really inter­est­ing things to see, some of which I never would have even noticed with­out the handy MTA Arts for Transit web­site.

I went out and had a look for myself, and here are some of my favorites…

If you hap­pen to be in Brooklyn, check out the Metropolitan/Lorimer G sta­tion for:

"Signs of Life"

Signs of Life” by Jackie Cheng

If you’re down by Canal Street, head down to the A and you might see some birds.

"A Gathering, 2001" by Walter Martin and Puloma Munoz (photo courtesy of MTA Arts for Transit)

A Gathering, 2001″ by Walter Martin and Paloma Munoz

Photo cour­tesy of MTA-Arts for Transit

Words from lit­er­ary greats span the walls near the Bryan Park 7 stop:

Under Bryant Park” by Samm Kunce

And finally, the answer to that age old ques­tion about alli­ga­tors exist­ing under­ground in New York City. I found one while wait­ing for the L on 14th and 8th.

Life Underground” by Tom Otterness

Ryden High Off the Art Hog

In honor of design’s holy book, Communication Arts Magazine, putting forth its illus­tra­tion annual, as well as in the spirit of this month’s theme, I sub­mit for your approval: Mark Ryden’s The Gay 90’s Old Tyme Art Show, which begins tonight through June 5th at the Paul Kasmin Gallery. (Yes, tonight!! Opening recep­tion and media leeches, anyone?)

His dream­ily applied oil paints belie his strange, grotesque and oddly jux­ta­posed sub­ject mat­ter, which recur­rently includes Abraham Lincoln, doe-eyed girls, furry pets, cul­tural sym­bol­ism, and cuts of meat. “Hyper-cute,” “goth,” “whim­si­cal,” “dar­ling,” “sur­real,” “metic­u­lous,” “creepy,” “cap­ti­vat­ing,” and “gor­geous,” while among pop­u­lar words used to describe his oeu­vre, don’t quite cap­ture the entirety of his tran­scen­dent work. To see or col­lect Mark Ryden is to join the ranks of art posers such as Leonardo DiCaprio, Stephen King, Bridget Fonda, Tobey Maguire, Ringo Starr, Danny Elfman, Marilyn Manson, and yours truly.

In the tra­di­tion of my being choc full of opin­ion juici­ness, I could rat­tle on with my usual vigor. However, in this case, I’ll let the work (and the meat) speak for itself. See below for time-elapsed doc­u­men­ta­tion of Ryden cre­at­ing his latest.

An explosion of cuteness

Yes, I will say it again, “an explo­sion of cute­ness.” A cou­ple of years ago I stum­bled on to the work of Alex Noriega, a Barcelona-based illus­tra­tor, turned fashion/product designer. His older themes include dreamy cityscapes that are built up with lay­ers of “water­color” tex­ture and are filled with oodles of crit­ters and ran­dom objects that whirl about in the sky. Noriega’s use of a muted, pas­tel palette through­out his work speaks to the grit­ti­ness of urban life while giv­ing the objects within an endear­ing qual­ity that makes his work eas­ily enjoy­able for a broad audi­ence. Personally, I’m a sucker for the clouds that look like hand wound skeins of yarn — they speak to my inner-crafty diva.

After I devel­oped an obses­sion with his work, I couldn’t help but mimic his doo­dles in my own sketch­books and even used screen cap­tures of his illus­tra­tions for my com­puter desk­top. Recently I was search­ing for a cover for my iPod and found some of his work on GelaSkins​.com and imme­di­ately snatched up a copy of “Toxicity” for Sir Fancypants IV. (Yes, I’ve gone through four iPods.) A GelaSkin is a remov­able, 3-M prod­uct that adheres to the face of iPods, cell phones and lap­tops, cov­er­ing it with a cute illus­tra­tion. Now I enjoy his work every­day while I’m plugged in for my commute.

Illustration Inspiration

One thing is for sure, with the extreme preva­lence of blogs and show­case sites — espe­cially those that spe­cial­ize in a par­tic­u­lar sub­ject — there is an end­less sup­ply of inspi­ra­tion resources online. And with so many resources at our fin­ger­tips, it can be tough to weed through the clut­ter and get to the good stuff.

So where do you go if you’re look­ing specif­i­cally for illus­tra­tion inspi­ra­tion? In an attempt to get you started, here’s a list of my top 5 resources for dis­cov­er­ing unique, diverse and cre­ative illustration:

Drawn!

Picture Book Report

Illustration Mundo

Illustration Friday

Ape on the Moon

Did I miss one of your favorites? Add it in the comments!

Doodle Mania

Most of the design­ing these days is done on com­put­ers — a lot of the design­ers in here even sketch elec­tron­i­cally. But that doesn’t mean that all the design soft­ware in the world is any bet­ter than a good old fash­ioned pen or pen­cil sketch on paper. I’ve col­lected some of the var­i­ous “doo­dles” done by the Leibowitz/Sugarspun team (design­ers and account execs alike) — whether it be for a con­cept or (shh!) sit­ting on a long con­fer­ence call. As you can see, our illus­tra­tion styles vary just as much as our per­son­al­i­ties. Take a look and let us know what you think!

Some of our design­ers enjoy cre­at­ing new pat­tern ideas or graph­ics:

Others dream of flora and fauna:

A cou­ple of us like to design our own type­faces or work on let­ter­ing:

And some of us could have been animé artists, car­toon­ists or Tim Burton in another life:

In all hon­esty though, my favorite doo­dles of all are Paul’s. He’s com­bined most of the above ele­ments into mas­ter­pieces such as this one:

Space Turtle!

The Heads of State

Last week a few of us from the office went to Collaboration: The Heads of State AIGA event. The Heads of State is the design and illus­tra­tion stu­dio of Jason Kernevich and Dustin Summers. Brought together by their mutual love for Bob Ross, the duo started out cre­at­ing low-budget con­cert posters from a small stu­dio apart­ment in Philadelphia. Their unique illus­tra­tion work quickly got the eye of bands like REM and Wilco, among many others.

Concept is the most impor­tant ele­ment in the studio’s design and illus­tra­tion work. It is the point where they col­lab­o­rate the most and is essen­tial to cre­at­ing the work the stu­dio is known for. The true test of their col­lab­o­ra­tive style of work­ing came in 2002 when the stu­dio become bi-coastal when Summers moved to Seattle. Through email and tele­phone calls, Kernevich and Summers con­tin­ued to work together to cre­ate award-winning illus­tra­tion and design. After years of work­ing this way, they now share a stu­dio again in Philadelphia.

Their clients have expanded beyond bands and music venues. The Heads of State have become well known for their edi­to­r­ial illus­tra­tion work for the New York Times, the NYT Sunday Magazine and Real Simple among many oth­ers. They also design and illus­trate book cov­ers. The Heads of State con­stantly try to evolve in their design and illus­tra­tion work in hopes that design will also remain intrigu­ing with­out hit­ting the viewer over the head with the style they are known for.

They also revealed a per­sonal project they have been work­ing on: a series of busi­ness card designs based off the fourth chap­ter of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, where the author lists and describes the party-goers of a upscale gath­er­ing. It is not com­plete yet but hope­fully they will be post­ing some images of it soon!

The stu­dio has recently opened an online store sell­ing a series of travel posters done for Real Simple mag­a­zine. Keep check­ing back for the full store com­ing soon!

Charles Addams’ New York

If you’re a fan of Battery Park, I’ve got bad news: Charles Addams has released a lot of mon­sters in that neigh­bor­hood. And they’re eat­ing everybody.

April Fool’s. That’s just from an illus­tra­tion that I saw in a creepy man­sion. The true story is as follows…

A few weeks ago I ven­tured out into a thun­der­storm to visit the Charles Addams exhibit at the Museum of the City of New York. I was a huge fan of Wednesday Addams and all things mon­stery grow­ing up, so nat­u­rally when I heard about “Charles Addams’ New York,” I had to go. Two trains, three rainy blocks and one destroyed umbrella later, I arrived at my des­ti­na­tion, which hap­pened to be a very for­mi­da­ble mansion.

Addams, best known for his cre­ation of the Addams Family, was also a long-time free­lance illus­tra­tor for The New Yorker. He began design­ing witty car­toon com­men­tary for the pub­li­ca­tion in 1932, at the age of 20, and con­tin­ued to do so until three weeks before his death in 1988. As a native New Yorker, I was look­ing for­ward to see­ing Addams’ clever take of the city and its inhab­i­tants that graced the pages of the publication.

The thing I love most about Addams is the dark sense of humor he man­aged to emote from almost all of his work. You can imag­ine how excited I was when I walked in and saw a wall-sized mural of a man walk­ing by his sub­way sta­tion at night, where a giant hand was emerg­ing from the depths, lur­ing him down to the platform.

Between the dozens of illus­tra­tions from The New Yorker, a room ded­i­cated to The Addams Family (com­plete with life-sized por­trait of Morticia) and a sweet battle-axe that Addams hung on his stu­dio wall, there was a lot to see. My favorite piece was of a man walk­ing his dog that gave new mean­ing to the phrase, “Some peo­ple look like their pets.”

Creepy and kooky illus­tra­tions aside, the high­light of the exhibit was hear­ing bursts of laugh­ter in the room; gotta love that dark humor. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to an art museum and heard folks gig­gle at some­thing other than a scant­ily clad maiden hold­ing fruit.

About an hour later, I dashed back out into the storm. I had seen all there was to see: mon­sters, masks and a full wardrobe of Wednesday’s out­fits. All for $10. Not too shabby. The trip was def­i­nitely worth los­ing my umbrella over, even if there wasn’t a giant mon­ster hand in sight as I sprinted to the 6 train.