Giant pink sheep in the Puerta de Alcalá

I think the only thing the Puerta de Alcalá is missing is a giant pink sheep. Here's why.

Around November 20th every year, shepherds bring their flocks of sheep directly through the center of Madrid, in between these two stone markers (mojones) on the eastern side of Plaza Alcalá. This is supposed to be quite a scene, and it's a tradition that dates back to 1273 during the time of King Alfonso X. Livestock owners founded an organization that was empowered with keeping open livestock paths throughout the country, enabling the sheep to move between the northern and southern provinces and avoid the cold weather.

The pathway marked at Puerta de Alcalá is one of the last of nine remaining in Spain. If you go to look for the mojones, they are really easy to miss. One is to the left of the entrance to Retiro Park, and the other is on the northeast corner of the Plaza de la Independencia.

All of the livestock paths were of varying width, but the widest at 75.23 meters are knows as cañadas reales (royal livestock passageways). The width between the two markers is ceremoniously measured by the shepherds each time they bring their flock into the city, reasserting their rights and confirming the path established 800 years ago.

So back to my giant pink sheep idea. We all need something that disconnects us from our everyday lives sometimes, and encourages us to see our surroundings in a new way. Madrid, as viewed through the arches of the puerta de Alcalá, soaring up the Gran Via, has an entirely different cadence with a giant pink sheep in the foreground. It allows city dwellers to break from reality and enter a bright, colorful fantasy city.

The installation creates its own narrative while at the same time uncovering an existing, forgotten one. Like the artworks I've posted on this blog, this intervention uses an existing viewpoint, and offers a way to experience the landscape with a point of comparison. The visual comparison is any aspect of the form: color, material, shape, angle, scale, etc. The possible material I could use reminds me of my beloved Breyer horses that I used to play with incessantly as a kid - impossibly smooth plastic.

The giant pink sheep would coincide with the actual running of the sheep in November and there would be at least one where the flock enters Madrid (above), and possibly others at different points along the trail.

Making progress - final projects for the semester

All of the roads are leading to the same place now. I think for a while I was exploring many different directions and I feel like now I'm on only one path, which is good!

I have an idea that's still being formed, but it involves a shape/symbol/index framing some part of the cityscape.

Here is the sketch of this idea. The shape frames an otherwise hidden aspect of the street and is an index to the underlying form in our surroundings.







I also took one photo every minute for an hour to capture a slice of community in time and space. Here are a few of those photos - I should put them into a video, but I'm still trying to figure out where I think that's going. It's probably something I can use a little bit down the road.

I set up the camera under an overhang on the eastern section of Rivington street. I have to say, it was really boring to stand there for an hour especially when I'm not even sure what I got out of it. My favorite part of the progression is the hard line between sun and shadow that moves east along the building where ABC No Rio is located. To take it further I could also splice the photos together to create a collage that describes the whole hour.

Ok, here are ideas for final projects this semester:
I'm working on the definition of a neighborhood in New York City. What is a neighborhood? My attempt: A neighborhood is a place with defined boundaries that communicates a distinct essence - unique to that area. How are they defined differently by residents and visitors - what are symbols, landmarks, boundaries, distinct paths? What neighborhoods have strong visual organization? How does each neighborhood communicate to people differently - with ads, storefronts, contours, colors, architecture? How does the visual organization and communication effect the strength of mental image of a place and how does that effect the attachment people feel to neighborhoods?

One project I'm working on for Visual Language incorporates the history of the place as well. I'd like to compare three different locations and create a system of symbols to describe the hidden meaning and story behind them. So far I'm interested in looking at Wall Street, Greenwich Village (or Lower East side) and Chelsea. I chose these neighborhoods because of their unique characteristics and distinction from other areas of the city. They all have distinct communication as well. I need to narrow down the options by taking a walk through the different areas and documenting the forms/signs/sounds I observe.

So I have two different projects going on:
1. An audio experiment to capture the essence of visual form through community perception. I'd like to create a game online where people can play the different audio clips and guess which neighborhood they are listening to or hearing a description of.
2. Describing the hidden meaning of a place/uncovering the history through a symbol system. For this one I want to insert the symbols into the physical environment (like the photo sketch above) in many layers. I like Plexiglass for this project because you can place a symbol on the glass and maintain clear view within and outside the symbol, then it would make the multiple layers possible with sheets of plexi sliding out to reveal a different story. I need to figure out where the text would be written so it's easy to read but out of view.

So for the audio project I need to figure out who I'm going to interview and what questions to ask. I'm thinking that the interviewees need comparable profiles for each neighborhood. So long-term residents and then visitors/tourists plus just the ambient sound of the street. I will ask what their impressions are of the place - what symbolizes this neighborhood, what are common landmarks, paths? Maybe ask what is one word to describe how it feels.

For the history symbol project, I need to do some research into events and interesting anecdotes about buildings in these neighborhoods. Coming soon!

Cittaslow and Girard

I just read a fascinating article by the Italian professor Luigi Fusco Girard. One of his main points is that sustainable conservation and renewable energy usage should go hand-in-hand.

"Conservation of urban heritage can be genuinely sustainable to the extent that it revitalizes communities by creating a dynamic, growth-oriented mix of new functions that regenerate economic and social life, while at the same time reducing energy consumption and increasing the use of renewable resources."

Somehow the new "telecommunications-based" economy needs to valorize the cultural identity of the historic urban core, by connecting with traditional "old economy" activities. Also, beauty is key to quality of life, and this is one of the most important factors to attract economic activities that produce wealth.

"Beauty is linked not only to the existing order in a territory. It reflects the harmony existing among its different elements. It transmits a sense of completeness rising from the perception that some attributes are satisfied at their maximum level. Beauty is the synthesis of different dimensions: it is the perception that every element is mutually interconnected, and fosters a sense of connection between community, capital, and assets."

There are many examples of European cities that are investing in green technologies to reduce their carbon footprint. Local Agenda 21 are urban movements to implement solar cities and sustainable initiatives throughout Europe. This decreases the dangers to human health that naturally arise from living in a city, and contribute to the attractiveness of a place. Our surroundings have a significant effect on our health and well-being, and more integrated surroundings inspire us to feel a greater sense of community and social integration. Girard does a really good job of capturing in words what is important about cultural preservation: 

"Intrinsic value reflects this sense of cultural belonging, resulting from the unified integration of many diverse components that all combine together to express the 'spirit' of the place...The roots of these intrinsic values are in cultural traditions, in the history of a community that reflects itself in the whole of the physical signs, symbols, and spiritual values that inspire it...places represent living embodiments of the collective memory of vital historic events that help determines a sense of co-belonging, of deep unity between people and nature and between individuals, families, and larger communities; of mutual interdependence that connects all of us together as a fundamental characteristic of humanity."

Specifically for me, community is important because I've never had a strong one, and I'd like to be a part of a group of interacting, supportive citizens. People help one another in an ideal community, with practical things (like sharing tools and babysitting) but also for companionship (especially in old age).

Also, preservation of culture is key because if the world all of a sudden became completely homogenized then there are fewer ideas and perspectives, Coming from a different perspective (and learning from others) in one of the most valuable learning experiences in life, and can lead to better problem solving. A different cultural perspective can solve a problem such as how to live a better life, or how to lose weight, how to make your baby sleep better, how to cook chicken curry, etc.

My grandparents and great-grandparents took great pains to Americanize themselves once they arrived in New York, at the loss of language and customs. They tried so hard to fit in that they lost their original voice. Luckily my grandma passed down her many great recipes for traditional Italian meals that her mother taught her, and I will always have their stories. In the interest of retaining the original voice of a community, one must learn their different inherent wisdoms and stories. Story-telling is a vital form of cultural preservation.

Cittaslow is a movement growing from Italy throughout the globe. It takes the main principles of the Slow Food movement and applies them to the city infrastructure.

"We are looking for towns where people are still curious about times past, towns rich in theatres, squares, cafes, workshops, restaurants and spiritual places, towns with untouched landscapes and fascinating craftsmen, where people are still aware of the slow passing of the seasons, marked by genuine products, respecting tastes, health and spontaneous customs...." Original Cittaslow Manifesto

There are 50 goals and principles that each Cittaslow town works to achieve, and a rigorous application process to become designated as a Cittaslow town. The only town in the United States so far is Sonoma Valley, California (according to Wikipedia). The main aims of the movement are to improve quality of life, resist homogenization, and protect the environment. Gosh, I would love to live in one of these towns.

Berenice Abbott/my obsession with historical images of New York

Over the last few weeks of summer, I created a project using historical images of New York City's Lower East Side. After a few trips to the NYPL Image Library (great resource btw), I found images organized by street name and neighborhood that would work. I wanted to capture the timeless essence of the neighborhood by using historical images, and drew the details on rice paper.

I found an incredible book that documents many of the photographer Berenice Abbott's works, and another called "Then and Now", which compares images of the same location at the turn of the century and the mid-70's.

The first image is the large sheet of rice paper with the images juxtaposed next to each other, but I see it as more of a book that you can flip through.

The thing is...

In my thesis I don't want to put more printed matter into the universe or send more needless messages. I want to create something of value, that hopefully decreases the high concentration of visual stimuli in our lives. Today I sat and drew a lamp post in the Lower East side, and was so annoyed at the bar across the street for erecting this cheesy sign of photorealistic monkeys (and blasting bad techno). The reason I was so bothered by it is that they had absolutely no awareness of the historical building in which they occupied the street level space, and the architectural details were obviously not considered when hanging this sign, or the other hideous one that reads 'Hungry? $2.95' with a picture of an unappetizing sandwich.

I couldn't bring myself to post the hideous signage from the bar, but this is the building I was admiring. What if there was a way for store signage to connect with the surroundings and incorporate historical detail? For a neighborhood like the Lower East Side with rich history this would add so much value to the area and connect residents and visitors to the place. This idea is related to the theme of localization because using local/historical patterns is parallel to using local materials for building, local food for eating, and local artists for murals. These are all ways to add value to the community and bring awareness to the unique characteristics of the neighborhood.

I could use the inherent patterns and designs on surfaces and from overhead (i.e. Google Earth) to create place-specific artwork (in many forms, one of which would be signage). Actually, this is a photo I took of the restaurant Spitzers across the street from monkey madness. They did a good job of connecting with the place to deliver the appropriate style of signage, but I wonder if there is more to it than just something hip/urban. I love the lamp posts by the way.

I really want to work with maps in some way. I'm always fascinated by the idea that we're these tiny specks walking along, oblivious to our orientation in the greater surroundings. The awareness of the massiveness of our place/the Earth makes us realize that our lives are actually much simpler than they seem. An artist in Brooklyn seems to think along the same lines. We saw this cool mural, which was really a collage of many different artists, on the way to the Botanical Gardens.