Ben Roberts’ series of photographs titled ‘Occupied Spaces’ documents some of the communal and private spaces that have been set up outside St. Paul’s Cathedral in central London by protestors representing the global Occupy movement.
(via Junk Culture)
Interior of the Larkin Administration Building, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, 1904 (demolished in 1950).
Look at this office. Innovative for the time, yes. But do you think anything creative was ever produced in this space? No way!
Fun fact: Wright designed some of the desks so that the chairs were immovable - just screwed right onto the desk. Talk about being chained to your work. Those people could have used access to a yoga dungeon for sure.
For some really great Larkin ephemera click HERE
Have I posted enough dollhouse pictures today? Yes? Great! Here’s one more.
Lucky for you I think I’m done blogging for the day.
Francis Campbell Boileau Cadell
Interior: The Orange Blind
Oil on canvas
Circa 1927
111.8 x 86.4 cm
Glasgow Museums, Art Gallery and Museum, Kelvingrove. Hamilton Bequest 1928.
This autumn the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art launched the first in an annual series of exhibitions devoted to the Scottish Colourists. The Scottish Colourist Series: FCB Cadell is the first major retrospective of his work to be held in a public gallery in almost seventy years and brings together almost 80 paintings, from collections across the UK, many of which have rarely, if ever, been shown in public before.
Francis Campbell Boileau Cadell (1883-1937) is one of the four artists popularly known as ‘The Scottish Colourists’, along with S. J. Peploe, J. D. Fergusson and G. L. Hunter. Cadell’s work is perhaps the most elegant of the four: he is renowned for his stylish portrayals of Edinburgh New Town interiors and the sophisticated society that occupied them; equally celebrated are his vibrantly coloured, daringly simplified still-lives of the 1920s, and his evocative landscapes of the island of Iona. — ArtDaily
(Source: BBC)
Bedroom of Barbara Rutherfurd, 660 Fifth Avenue, New York City, New York. This image, by an uncredited photographer, was published in British “Vogue” in August 1917.
— Source: An Aesthete’s Lament
Pipilotti Rist
Das Zimmer (The Room), 1994/2000
Audio-video installation
Installation view, Kunstmuseum St. Gallen, St. Gallen/CH
Photo: Stefan Rohner
![Grace Court townhouse in Brooklyn Heights is for sale at $5.9 million from Brown Harris Stevens. This is the living room.
[via NY Observer]](http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lqi2h5Q6bf1qzvxbko1_400.jpg)
Grace Court townhouse in Brooklyn Heights is for sale at $5.9 million from Brown Harris Stevens. This is the living room.
[via NY Observer]
Directed by Susan Seidelman - She-Devil (1989)
Production Design by Santo Loquasto
Mary Fisher residence
The blog Hippy Kitchen holds a special place in my heart (exhibits A, B, C), so I’ve decided on creating a hippy kitchen in the Painted Lady dollhouse:
I still have a whole lot more work to do but I think the mellow vibes are getting there. Do you see that loaf of bread back there in the second photo, next to the hunk of cheese? It’s made with buckwheat flour and sweetened with applesauce and molasses, for a super rustic hippie flavor. Just kidding, it’s plastic from China. Those painted ceramic bird figures in the back were my grandfathers - just more of his objects getting a second chance at life from collecting dust as bric-a-brac. The wooden furniture I found on eBay, I think it’s from Japan. The cabinets are vintage Lundby. The table cloth and rug are scraps from one of my epic D&D looting trips and the rest is Re-Ment.
Can you think of anything else that would be found in a proper hippy kitchen? What else? Macrame? Hanging plants? A bong?
In case you haven’t noticed the lack of miniatures blogging lately, my dollhouses have been in storage for the past couple of months while my apartment has been undergoing minor renovations.
Seeing one empty like this gets me super excited for the decorating scenarios to come. I am slowly getting my shit back together over here.
![Marcel van Eeden From his series ‘The Occultist (1920)’ (2011)
Here, as is customary of his work, Van Eeden intertwined appropriated elements from historical documents and his personal history (specifically, that of his wife’s family). The series begins in a factual tone, documenting a house in St. Gallen in 1920; the later drawings reverentially record ectoplasm and other manifestations of ghosts brought forth by the titular spiritualist. From a sceptic’s point of view, the potentially factual takes an abrupt fictional turn. For each of his series of drawings, Van Eeden works from found material printed before his birth in 1965, including archival photographs and illustrations from Life and Paris Match. These sources account for the documentary appearance of some of his drawings, though there are equally frequent allusions to film noir, cartoons, commercial logos and pulp fiction. [Frieze Magazine]](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_llt7raJrVs1qzvxbko1_400.jpg)
Marcel van Eeden
From his series ‘The Occultist (1920)’ (2011)
Here, as is customary of his work, Van Eeden intertwined appropriated elements from historical documents and his personal history (specifically, that of his wife’s family). The series begins in a factual tone, documenting a house in St. Gallen in 1920; the later drawings reverentially record ectoplasm and other manifestations of ghosts brought forth by the titular spiritualist. From a sceptic’s point of view, the potentially factual takes an abrupt fictional turn. For each of his series of drawings, Van Eeden works from found material printed before his birth in 1965, including archival photographs and illustrations from Life and Paris Match. These sources account for the documentary appearance of some of his drawings, though there are equally frequent allusions to film noir, cartoons, commercial logos and pulp fiction. [Frieze Magazine]
Yayoi Kusama, I’m Here, but Nothing, (2000), mixed media installation
Raise your hand if you know where this room is located at The Metropolitan Museum of Art. In all the times I’ve taken some special friends on one of my personal-period-rooms-of-the-Met guided tours (I really do those, wanna go?), I have found a lot of people are not aware of this wonderful room by Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s the living room from the Little House, originally in Wayzata, Minnesota, 1912–14. When the house was demolished in 1972, the living room was disassembled and moved here, where it is now on permanent display.
When you step inside, you are completely transported through time and space into a total environment. You are enveloped in quietness, and in FLW himself, as he designed every last element of the room. Possibly even the pottery (I think?). The room feels like a rhythmic, horizontal expanse of warm color, texture and wood, and would have been filled with light, as two sides of the rooms are curtain walls of classic FLW stained glass. It’s an incredibly peaceful space amidst the hum of the museum crowds. It’s not like, a secret or anything, but I’ve never been in there with more than two other people checking it out at the same time. I only wish I could sit on the furniture and relax awhile with a book. As you can see above, the sofa he designed with tabletop arms was pretty much built for that.
P.S. If you want to find this room, it’s on the first floor in the American Wing, near the back of the grand pavilion, toward the far right side.
Painted glass room divider in a chemist’s shop, date & location unknown.
via The Haunted Lamp
