The Style Salonista

Into The Light

Hello Blog readers, writers and readers who write! 

I'm not going to bore you with the typical blogger lament apologizing for my long absence/ infrequent posts. In fact I'm not really going to post anything much but a link to another blog, The Style Salonista by Diane Saeks. (hint: it's into the light). And I hope that keeps you a little occupied until we meet again...

Be seeing you!

All Over The Map

LGT corporate cities rendered in Mercator typeface

Lightening followed immediately by thunder, I mean it was that close (!), and torrential rain causing instant flooding. That's where I was mere days ago: Atlanta. It was pretty thrilling, actually, the same way a little seismic action electrifies those people visiting from outside of California. But I am back in L.A. now, though, I was downstairs in Antarctica a little earlier today. I'll explain. It's all part of my restoration process, trying to resurrect past projects from my haphazard, on the fly photography. I re-shot some of my work while I was in Atlanta. More about that later. Today I'm all over the map, my world map mural. Go back to an earlier entry for some history but here I'm posting more in a series of rectified images for my new site.

Assorted compass roses

Installation view of my map mural

See, I told you Antarctica was downstairs.

Make it work. I know someone lays claim that phrase but really, it so describes what I do from the beginning to the end of my painting projects and beyond. Right now I'm in the beyond stage which is where I make selections from terrible photographs of my work and make them work with a little help from Photoshop, a lot actually. Then I cut and paste together a collage of impressions to give some sense of what it's all about. My Liechtenstein Global Trust World Map Mural was never lit properly, well maybe, but when I was there to shoot it wasn't so that's a challenge.

Coat of Arms and Crest for the Liechtensteins

Top center of my map mural.

Assorted map icons.

So it is my hope that with a little detail here, a scribbly sketch there, some paint dabs on a card, and various camera angles you'll put it all together in your head and will be transported to the best vantage point to view my work. Is it working? If not or if it is I suggest you acquire my work for yourself. That's the best solution yet. 

Another installed view and sketches.

Palette, details, and Antarctica at the bottom of the stairs.

Cut it Out!

Cut it out!

My San Francisco flat, 20th century.

My Los Angeles studio, 21st century.

It has come to my attention that I like cut-outs; a fact so obvious I was sure I'd already created a blogpost on this subject. The joke is totally on me because in the past I have tried to locate my post on cut-outs to show someone or another and have been so frustrated in not being able to find it. So here we go. I'm posting about cut-outs now!

My Oakland studio, 2001: a space odyssey.

For me the act of creating a cut-out is born of two things, collages and stencils. I've been making collages longer than I can remember and I really got into stencils when I worked on the restoration of The Ponce. My "chests" post dealt with stencils on another scale. Now, in this paragraph I've referenced three different blog posts that touch on the subject. But let's move on to new business shall we?

A little Japanese cut-out and my big cut-out behind it.

While researching this subject, delving into my picture files, I came across a painting I did in 2001 that represents a curious intersection of collage, cut-out, and trompe l'oeil. A cut-out is my model for the painting and what it showed was the negative space left over from a tiny figure used in a collage.I took this little cut-out  and inflated its importance by enlarging to life size for the painting. I found a photograph of the painting taken in my wonderful Oakland studio. Another shot I came across taken in Oakland shows a marvelous Japanese cut-out against one of my own. Both of those cut-outs became paintings as well.

Big cut-outs.

Another big cut-out

Medium size cut-out.

Small cut-outs.

Back in my little San Francisco flat in the early 90s I filled my floor to ceiling windows with cut-outs. It was quick, easy, and a cheap way to postpone shelling out for curtains. And this presents a third manifestation of the cut-out after collages and stencils. This is folded paper cut-out as one would do in kindergarten to make a snowflake.  Remarkably I still have all those cutouts made in San Francisco. Around that same time I made what is, I suppose, my most important cut-out. It too became a painting. Actually I can remember specifically creating that particular painting. My flat was going to be photographed for some shelter magazine or perhaps a book and I thought I should have something on my wall that would read well on the printed page. Turns out it did help make a good photograph.

Big painting made from a small cut-out.

Triptych version.

My Triptych at the Four Season Resort.

My work adapted as a logo.

Years later two different designers, Orlando Diaz Azcuy and Pamela Babey, came calling wanting that painting. The first designer bought the painting and another one, very similar. The second designer called too late. So I recreated it. Actually it worked out for the best because I recreated it as a triptych. It was made for a resort near Buenos Aires. The resort was built by a private developer who was so enamored of the piece he wanted it to play a big part in his project. And so my image was adapted as a graphic design appearing on stationery, chef's hats, guest slippers, and more. The resort, Madison, soon after its completion became part of the Four Seasons chain so their logo took over.

What follows are some establishing shots of the Four Season Resort at Carmelo. I'm establishing that my work is there, it's a beautiful place, and wouldn't we all like to stay there?  Be seeing you!

Four Seasons Resort Carmelo. Can you spot my work?

Four Seasons Resort Carmelo

Four Seasons Resort Carmelo

Four Seasons Resort Carmelo

Four Seasons Resort Carmelo

Adorned The Wall

Have you ever wondered what they think of you in Italy? No? Me neither, but I got the chance to find out, I guess. I mean, I've been published a couple of times in Italian shelter magazines so I guess they told me what they thought of me. I haven't translated the articles in a while. You're welcome to go for it. Download my .pdf files and give me your best translation. I imagine it will turn out something like: “Me Talk Pretty One Day” or “Adorned The Wall” which is what you get from Il Muro Ornato with a free online translator. Il Muro Ornato is the title of the first article about me in Casa Vogue from October of 1991.







However, I've decided to reproduce here pages from the second article about my place in San Francisco that came out five years later: Casa Vogue, May 1995. What's interesting to me is that my blog is not the random ramblings I sometimes think it to be but instead a coherent message with a common thread. In my last post I showed pictures of the Pontormo figures I painted on a bed and you will note that the panels from that bed are sitting on my mantle, blank, and awaiting my touch. They're there on the page of Casa Vogue. Do you see them?




The other reason I thought to share these pages is because of Hollywood Forever Kevin. Do you know him? Check my comments! He really gets my work and I love his enthusiasm. So much so that I invited him over. Come see for yourself I told him. It's hard to believe that's my first meeting with a fellow L.A. Blogger. There are so many of them you'd think we'd be tripping over one another. Oh, no, that's wrong. I did meet Brooke Giannetti but that's before I was also a blogger myself.






Anyway, back to Kevin. While Kevin was here he reminded me how much people love my giant leaf. “You haven't blogged about it?” he demanded, as if “Why not?!”. So I hereby present my gunera leaf, plucked from my cutting garden in the Sunset District of San Francisco and published in Casa Vogue. My cutting garden, some people call it Golden Gate Park. Golden Gate Park is one of the perks of living in the foggiest part of San Francisco and I really appreciated it! Now I invite you too to appreciate my adorned walls. They're long gone but preserved for history.





Credits:

The marvelous doyenne of design Diane Dorrans Saeks brought the talented photog, Alan Weintraub, out to shoot my place for inclusion in her book San Francisco Interiors. Alan later sold the same images to Casa Vogue through his European agent. They repackaged the images for a magazine and see? That's how it all works.