Santiago, Chile; Las Vegas; and Carmelo. Uruguay. What do they have in common? They're all locations of some of my site specific overscale paintings and a triptych. See them and more on my newly expanded site. https://lnkd.in/dwryYTRh

Wright This Way

Drove to Chicago, all things know, all things know.

But wait. Let’s back up. We’ll start in Los Angeles at Barnsdall Park where the recently renovated Hollyhock House pulled an all-nighter free-for-all; literally, it was open all night and free to get in.  I couldn't resist that plus there’s been a lot of anticipation because the place has been closed for years. It’s Frank Lloyd Wright in his Mayan revival, although, I think that’s a bit superficial. I mean, definitely, you can see the Mayan Temple on the outside but I think the genius of Wright is on the inside.  The interior volumes are thrilling. Maybe that’s just me but I find really thoughtful architecture thrilling. That quality does not translate into photos, I don’t think, but anyway, here you are:

You're welcome!

This is the west facade and those are the living room windows.

This court yard is 180° from the above. 

Inside, at last. The living room with a view of the city on one side and courtyard on the other.

Night view of the courtyard and the eponymous hollyhocks.

Closer and closest.

Dining room and kitchen beyond.

Little did I know, because it wasn't planned at the time, but a short while after seeing Hollyhock House I would see where it all began for Wright in Oak Park, IL.  And just like Sufjan Stevens I really did drive to Chicago (from South Bend, Indiana –a story for another post).  I love to visit Chicago but always in the past have stayed close to The Loop, which is all I knew until now. Of course I knew about Oak Park but thought, oh that’s so far away. It’s really not, although when Wright first moved there all his windows facing north looked to open prairie. That’s hard to picture today. What you can see in his home and his studio is a relentlessly creative mind germinating one idea after another and it continues around the corner and down the street. 

A shot only possible in the winter, though winter is long in Oak Park.

Front and side of FLW Oak Park. The side view highlights the evolution of his thinking and  expanded practice.

Here's the master bedroom and flanking murals. No doubt the Native Am. figures were inspired by the prairie view.

The playroom from both sides. Wouldn't you love to?

Detail of the playroom mural.

I know the broad strokes of Wright’s life but seeing so much of his work all at once really whetted my appetite for more. Actually my interest goes back to my teenage years since I considered the possibility of enrolling at Taliesin. I wish I still had the application materials. My recollection is that the packet was beautifully designed and printed on fine stock. I was a little shocked and intrigued by some of the requirements. There were specific instructions about what to bring to wear, how to dress for dinner, and there was the requirement that each student design and build his own habitation. Actually, I saw some of those little “forts” scattered about the property at Taliesin West in Scottsdale when I visited years ago. 

The studio with it's low overhead drawing boards and soaring central atrium.

The walking tour just around the corner.

Long story short I became a painter rather than an architect but as readers of this blog know I have often combined my painting with architecture. It was gratifying to hear from the tour guide at the Wright home that FLW really preferred art be a part of the architecture rather than a framed pictures hung on the wall. I think architects who feel that way may be as rare as Wright. I don’t understand that but I think that’s pretty true. What do you think?

Water, water, everywhere

Xmas tree seen on the Winter Park Scenic Boat tour.

Here’s how it works: I think up a subject, gather the pictures then write words to go with it.  I had one subject in mind, a recent painting project but when I viewed my images for this post I realized the real subject is water. It should have been obvious to me since I just got back from Florida, a peninsula surrounded by water, and as it happens I spent every day looking  at water (in a lap pool), crossing over water by car, paddling on water in a canoe, standing on water in a yacht, and oh yes, I painted water. The painting is the main reason I brought you here yet the water depicted in it is hardly noticeable -but you can decide that for yourself.

The Winter Park home of Mr. Rogers of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood fame.

So,  picking up where I left off last blog post, yes, I spent the final days of 2013 in Orlando with side trips to Palm Beach and Wekiva, (from the Creek Indian word for "flowing water”).  All of Florida sits on top of water that is often just barely underground and in many cases is at the surface in the form of ponds, lakes, and rivers which are often connected, chained they call it. Getting in and on that water means you’re visiting the real Florida as far as I’m concerned.  On my last full day in Florida I took the Scenic Boat Tour of the Winter Park chain of Lakes, established in 1938.  The boat drivers give a kind of schmaltzy description and there are moments that feel like a Hollywood tour of stars homes, “straight ahead the twenty-two thousand square foot lakefront home of…” but the scenery was so lovely and the weather so beautiful that a little drippy chatter hardly mattered.

Google map view showing the start/end point of our canoe trip (race).

My canoe mate.

Great blue heron as seen from my canoe. Can you find it?

Let’s Active! Even better to be active on the water, we chose canoeing. And with two pairs in two boats it became an impromptu race: out to our furthest point and back to the start. My boat won, btw. Along the way I saw some would be subjects for my painting, water fowl:  the Florida ibis, a great blue heron, a number of vulture, alas no roseate spoonbill which is what I painted. Conveniently I relied on Audubon rather than direct observation for my work.

These are the elements that made up my painting.

“Paint the Roseate Spoonbill but with a twist” –that was my directive for the commission; a painting for Bricktop’s a restaurant in Palm Beach. Optimistically they initially scheduled an opening for Thanksgiving. I easily made that deadline and actually another deadline, a seemingly impossible deadline, to create four more paintings, more about those later.

Here is my (almost) final collage before I started painting.

I added these words which makes almost as much sense as "Let's Active".

The completed painting in my studio.

 Here I thought you might be interested in some behind the scenes of how I often put my projects together so I included the separate disparate elements I collaged to create my final composition. I think this is one of my strangest commissions to date but let’s hope it will keep diners and imbibers entertained and returning to solve the riddle wrapped in an enigma surrounded by a mystery.

My work is hung on the open air porch and this shot is so new the dining tables haven't even arrived.

My little side trip to Palm Beach was partly to view and photograph my work installed at the restaurant which unfortunately was a little behind schedule so my work was not yet up. However, the manager, John Becker, very kindly emailed me a couple of photos today that show my big painting hung. Later I’ll show you the rest of my work there when the restaurant is in full swing. It’s the perfect time open a new bistro and catch the wintering crowd. Balmy South Florida is the place you want to be in the U.S. when it’s winter. Current forecast predict 36 hours of frozen fury for about 100 million Americans.