The Importance of Being Foolish -- Public Performances as Low-Cost Therapy

I mean this with no disrespect to the performers involved:  Being foolish in public is a public service.  Last week I went to the Parlour, a bar in Chicago's Edgewater neighborhood.  Part of the entertainment was performances by two women, Rocco Granite and Saucy Cocteau (top and bottom photos, respectively).  Rocco's performance was in the vein of drag, with over-the-top emotion.  Ms. Cocteau's was a combination exercise video/strip-tease.  In every case, I knew I was witnessing something special.

 
Part of the beauty of communal life is the catharsis of the ridiculous.  Unlike watching comedy privately, you are invited to share in being foolish as well.  What a relief!  For this, I thank Rocco Granite, Saucy Cocteau, their fellow performers and the bars and nightclubs that host them.

Coffee Art

If life is powered by sugar, sex, and coffee, these images may be close to pornographic.  

(The photos are of various coffee drinks.  Specifically, they are mochas and, probably, one latte, seen around Chicago.  The top mocha is from Uncommon Ground.  The others are likely from Intelligentsia).

Vibrant and Vibrating Art -- New Installation by BJ Krivanek at the Brown Line's Chicago Avenue Station

On a recent wintery day, leaving the Brown Line at Chicago Avenue, I was greeted by the sight at left (view of the east platform).  My first reaction was that I was looking at a remarkably colorful and dynamic advertisement.  Then I thought it had something to do with Christmas or the upcoming Chinese new year, due to the vibrant red and image on the left panel, which reads like half of an inverted double-happiness character (see middle photo).  

I realized it was an art installation.  By BJ Krivanek, Reflections>Expressions is part of a cooperative effort between the city of Chicago and the Chicago Transit Authority to add art to stations (see http://www.chicago-l.org/stations/chicago.html and http://www.krivanek-breaux.com/index.html).  In addition to the commercial and Chinese associations, this installation refers to music (treble and bass clefs), math (plus and sum signs, for example), money, and language.  This last subject appears to be a (re)new(ed) theme in current art (see http://andrewvesselinovitch.blogspot.com/2010/11/todd-palmers-dna-art.html).

A most interesting element is the delta symbol, the two equilateral triangles that appear as parts of panels two and three (from the left) and four and five.  Delta is the mathematical symbol for change.  This installation supports the notion that change is part of, or comes from, interaction, both with each other and our environment.  The single deltas are literally formed of two panels, each of which, in turn, appears to be composed of six smaller panels.  The panels themselves appear to be made of sheet metal and move with the vibrations of the passing trains and, of course, the wind.  Kinetic and colorful, this installation lives one of its possible messages.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, when I wrote this post I knew nothing about this work.  Unfortunately, because I like to know the artist's (stated) intent and any back-story.  Fortunately, because I can rely on my eyes and knowledge.  Since I wrote it, Mr. Krivanek has provided me with a statement.  I was particularly amused by the following assumption, which would drive the fabrication of the piece:  

Commissioned as part of the first system-wide renovation of the CTA Brown Line in exactly 100 years, this public art program is expected to survive a similar period of institutional neglect. Its design and fabrication is decidedly low-tech---mechanical pivot points that will never be lubricated, mirror-polished color-anodized surfaces that shed rain and will never be cleaned....

View of West Installation

Make Chicago's Broadway More Social -- Remove Lanes and Add Landscaping, Seating, and Kiosks

The best practice today is to have urban streets with no more than three moving lanes (one for each direction of travel and a shared one for turning). The city of Chicago recently rebuilt sidewalks and reconfigured the roadway on a stretch of Broadway in Uptown. Instead of converting some of this overly wide right-of-way to more people-friendly uses, the street gained travel lanes.

Three lane streets are safer than those with more lanes and can carry about as many motor vehicles. Having more encourages constant lane switching, each maneuver an opportunity for a crash. In the new configuration on Broadway, there are as many as six moving lanes (see middle photo, looking north from Montrose Avenue).

Broadway could be Chicago's Lincoln Road (in Miami Beach) or Ramblas (in Barcelona). Limiting the travel lanes to three, one could create a wide median that would have room landscaping, places to sit, and kiosks for small businesses (see the top and bottom images of a proposal for the median at Broadway and Argyle Street). Let's make Broadway a living room, market place, and garden for Uptown.

My Days at the Beach -- Garbage/Art as a Way to Observe Your Environment

When I go to the beach, I troll for garbage. It is my way of claiming the beach, loving the beach, and, most importantly, seeing it. Looking for cigarettes is not my goal. Looking for cigarettes is the process I use to make me look at the sand, water, and sky. It is also a great excuse to walk around and see what people are up to.

Last summer, at Chicago's gayish Hollywood Beach, I used my trash collecting as a source of material to make collages that commemorated the days. It is a bit cyclical -- I went to the beach, found some cigarettes, and glued them into my journal as a memorial of looking for cigarettes. I generated some garbage of my own, the "Blue Bunny Sundae Crunch" wrapper and stick (see bottom photo). This treat reminds me of the strawberry shortcake bars I got as a kid from ice cream trucks on Chicago's South Side.

The top collage is a bit more complicated. I call it "Bicycle and Ladder go to the Beach". I bought an eight-foot ladder for a project and knew that if I took it home, I would not have enough desire to go back out to the beach. So, the ladder accompanied me (and the bicycle) to the beach.

Decorate a Bicycle for Christmas -- A Softer Celebration with Garbage

I am very fond of cars with wreaths attached to their grills at Christmas. There is something both festive and hostile about it. A delicate, loving baby was born, and we mark that event by dressing up a potentially deadly machine.

In recent days I came upon two bits of garbage. The first was a short length of red ribbon. This made it to the handlebars of one of my bicycles.

A few days later, I found several feet of evergreen branches that were bound together, something that might have been used to wrap the lamp posts of a Chicago commercial district. It was sitting in the street as I rode by. I turned back and picked it up. It is now wrapped around the top tube of the bike, with the red ribbon securing an end to the handlebars.

Andrew Gets a New/Old Stove

The oven has not been working since I moved into my apartment this summer. I didn't like the range much -- It didn't look like a quality product and certainly was not cared for. Instead of repairing it or buying a new stove, I wanted to get an old stove, one from the 1940s, 50s, or 60s. I grew up with such a stove, which my grandmother, Milosava Petković, used to make many tasty meals. She was a great cook.

While I prefer old and used things to new ones, I can see their flaws. In a car, no matter how beautiful an old one may be, I would prefer a new one. They are (usually) safer. When it comes to gas stoves, however, there is no benefit to having a new one. The old ones are sturdy, have a clumsy grace, and they seem to burn bluer (see top photo).

The search for an old stove wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. When I lived in San Francisco, there were salvage yards and used appliance stores that carried stoves of this age. They were esteemed objects.

Chicago is a more difficult environment for old stoves. The few stores that carried decades-old stoves have closed. An appliance retailer, who appreciates the old, says that Chicagoans seem to prefer certain homogeneous looks (currently it is granite and stainless steel everything).

Fortunately, I asked a friend if he knew where I could find an old stove. He had recently bought a century-old worker's cottage in Chicago's Logan Square district. He told me that he had two stoves he no longer wanted (maybe he, too, was going for granite and stainless steel). In every case, Jonathan sold me a beautiful, (probably) 1950s, Cribben & Sexton Universal stove (see photo of it in the garage in Logan Square). It has an atomic-era logo that seems to promise that, if the stove cannot protect you from annihilation, at least it can cook as well as a nuclear bomb (see photo, second from the bottom).

Yesterday, the stove was loaded onto a truck, carried up three flights of stairs, and installed in my home. The flame burns bluer. A repairman is coming tomorrow. The oven doesn't work (and that's fine).

Todd Palmer's codeswitch -- Multiple Languages and Colors for One People

The new Chicago Police Department District 23 station opened to the public last Saturday with a bit of fanfare. The artist Todd Palmer, my friend, had been commissioned by the city to produce two artworks for the new building. One of these, codeswitch, is prominently installed in the lobby (see photos at bottom of Mr. Palmer below the installation).

codeswitch consists of images of Braille and of hands, in a variety of colors, signing. Both Braille and signs are of the letters used to (de)code DNA, the material said to define us. Using lenticular technology, the images on each panel change as one passes by them (this is the same type of printing used for the images of Jesus opening and closing his eyes).

I believe this work is a comment, on many levels, on human difference and similarity. A code, denoted by a few repeated letters, defines all of us. The code is manifested in us physically in ways that can affect how we are treated (skin color, hair color, texture, and presence, height, sex, etc.). DNA is also commonly used in forensics, helping determine the guilty and the innocent.

There is an ambiguous aspect of codeswitch that I particularly like. It is a commanding piece in the lobby. This is a place where the police and the public, there either to seek help with a crime or to fish out someone who has been arrested, will conduct business. Some of the hands seem to be pointing accusingly (see top photo of the installation, with Mayor Richard M. Daley in the foreground). Who is being accused? The police? The mayor? Residents of Chicago? All of us!

Chicago's Miami Beach -- The Fantastical Granville Tower

Since I moved back to Chicago, I've become fascinated with North Sheridan Road, especially the section between Hollywood Avenue (5700 North) and where it turns west (6400 North) in Edgewater. This almost mile-long stretch reminds me of the best and worst of "Condo Canyon" in Miami Beach (the ten blocks of Collins Avenue south of 63 Street): Residential high-rises of varying degrees of whimsy, on a car-centric street, with a squandered waterfront. Let's look at the first part -- Some of these buildings have a high level of good-natured humour, if not outright beauty.

My favorite is a building that a friend and I refer to as "The Sert" because it reminds us of the work of Josep Lluis Sert on Roosevelt Island in New York City (see second photo from the top). This building is the Granville Tower (6166 N. Sheridan Road), designed by Seymour S. Goldstein and completed in 1966.

The Granville Tower is initially notable for two related reasons: Its unique and alternating floor plans, which correspond to the all-duplex apartments within (see top photo). The lower level of each south- and north-facing duplex is cantilevered and angled towards (potential) views of Lake Michigan (see approximation of the floor plan). The upper (bedroom) level's facade is more traditional in its orientation. On the east and west facades, bays (lower level) alternate with (almost) flat facades (upper level) (see third photo).

Socially, the Granville Tower has piqued my interest. It has ties to South Shore, a neighborhood about as far south of downtown as Sheridan Road in Edgewater is to the north. The Granville Tower's rental agent was Harry A. Zisook & Sons, with offices at 1711 E. 71 Street in South Shore. In the 1960s, South Shore changed from a virtually all-white neighborhood to a virtually all-black one. Was the Granville Tower a destination for white people leaving South Shore?

For answers to this and other questions (i.e. What is Harry A. Zisook & Sons? Who is the architect, Seymour S. Goldstein? What are the stories of the other buildings in Chicago's Miami Beach?), stay tuned.

Halloween Redux -- Halsted Street's Fantasies Improve Public Life

As I wrote the other day, Halloween is an important revelatory event ("Terror and Tacos in Portage and Albany Parks, Respectively"). For the first time, I went to the Halsted Street Halloween parade in Boystown in Lakeview. The juxtaposition of images and characters can be very creatively stimulating: Pacman chased by a dominatrix (really a by a ghost, but the "lady" with a whip is not far behind); a chicken appearing to hold a news conference; and guys with an excuse not to wear much.

These types of events -- carnivals, parades, street fairs -- can also be remarkably important in developing and maintaining a civil and, dare I say, a loving public life. We can learn about, learn from, and value difference. Most human differences -- food, clothing, speech patterns, etc. -- are utterly unimportant, but acquire monstrous meaning in a vacuum. With a human (or Pacman) face, these differences can be seen as harmless, and as enriching, as they have the potential to be.

Next year I will be in the parade itself and, perhaps, outdo the chicken.

Robie House on Fire -- Luftwerk Interprets Frank Lloyd Wright's Iconic Prairie House with Light and Sound

Last night I went to an event at the Robie House in Hyde Park. There were two treats for attendees. The first was that virtually the entire house was open for casual viewing. Usually, one can only take a guided tour.

The second treat was "Projecting Modern", a one-time, site-specific installation developed by Petra Poul Bachmaier and Sean Michael Gallero, jointly Luftwerk. A sound and light installation focused on the third floor, part of the exhibit could be seen from the street outside the Robie House (see bottom photo of the projection on the eave).

Luftwerk thoroughly researched the house and Mr. Wright and did something that would be very difficult to do in such a masterful work of architecture -- they added to it, in a respectful and thoughtful way. The installation included many beautiful and thought-provoking elements. The highlights were: Projections of images based on leaves (see top photo, blurred with exposure over time), geometric shapes changed through projection onto two planes, architectural details highlighted and projected onto adjacent walls, and a loop of Mr. Wright speaking about nature and the connection between the inside and outside of "whatever is". There were also boxes on the floor, through which cut-out quotations from Frank Lloyd Wright were illuminated.

Two of the quotations were "buildings, too, are children of the Earth and Sun" and "the space within becomes the reality of the building". Mr. Wright tried to do the seemingly paradoxical and take advantage of the ephemeral in his buildings. Ms. Bachmaier and Mr. Gallero pushed this with their installation. They made us look more closely at the Robie House and they did so using the ephemeral, light, part of the house's strength.

Thank you, Luftwerk.

Get Out of the Car for Your Social and Physical Wellbeing

Part of the reason we have embraced the car is out of fear of each other. Thankfully, over my lifetime, people seem to have become more comfortable with (perceived) differences (of race, national origin, sexuality). We need our behavior to catch up with this change. Lose the fear, get out of the car, live near each other!

The Kennedy Expressway, heading towards the Loop in Chicago (see photo above) presents a beautiful and disheartening view. Masses of buildings, which allow us to see each other face-to-face, which allow us to travel by foot, contrast with the atomization invited into the city with the highway.

Volumes have been written by people at least as smart as me about whether Americans like cities. It almost doesn't matter. If we want a healthy (fill in the blank -- body, environment, social life, etc.), we need easy to navigate, experientially-rich urban (at all scales) communities.

The John Hancock Center is My Friend

The John Hancock Center is my friend. I remember my parents taking me to see this new building, as a child, at night. We drove down Michigan Avenue, me in the back seat of the car, looking up through the window at a building that disappeared into a fog -- was there any end to it?

Bruce Graham, Fazlur Khan, the team at Skidmore, Owings & Merrill and all the others that made this building possible created a great gift for us all. I am not an uncritical admirer. I know that the the ground floor, in general, is miserly towards the pedestrian. This doesn't ruin the Hancock. It is a building that appears simple -- what is it but some beams and glass -- but after forty years still surprises. For example, it took me until recently to realize that the cross-bracing did not meet at 90 degrees (that is probably how I would draw it "from memory").

The Hancock is one of those structures that, like the grain of sand that allows a pearl to grow, provides the city a physical object that shapes an identity. Sometimes I think of the city without this building and I would rather not -- it would be a different place.

Lakeview Living Room -- Create a Social Space at the Intersection of Broadway and Clarendon Avenue

The intersection of Broadway and Clarendon Avenue in Chicago's Lakeview is like many in the United States -- excessively wide and unsafe. It is also an unused opportunity to create a social space, or at least a more pleasing looking one, in an urban environment.

In a "Y" intersection, such as this one, traffic engineers usually give motor vehicles as much space to maneuver as possible (see middle left photo of the truck and bicycle in a sea of asphalt). This does a disservice to everyone on the road -- motorists, pedestrians, and bicyclists. It becomes unclear who is to go where and also encourages higher speeds, a dangerous combination.

Tighten it up! By narrowing the "Y" to a "T" intersection and bringing out the sidewalk to the vehicle (motor and foot-powered) travel lanes, everyone benefits (see my plan, bottom left). Paths are clearer, speeds are reduced, and pedestrians have less asphalt to cross.

Landscape it! Program it! Let it be! This newly found space (shown in red in the plan), in a fairly densely settled neighborhood, can now become an urban living room. Landscaped, it can be more visually appealing. Hardscaped, it could be used for farmers markets or impromptu shows and hula-hooping (see image, top left).

Devon Avenue -- The Whole World (or a Lot of it) in Merchantile Harmony

Devon Avenue in Chicago's West Ridge exemplifies some of what's best about the United States. It is a place where everyone has something to contribute, and where people from sometimes hostile backgrounds (at least seem to) get along.

The initial draw of this commercial strip was food. I love South Asian food, which is well-represented here. I also seek out rose hip jam at a grocery store that seems to be a refuge from civil wars: Products from the former Yugoslavia, Lebanon, and other (hopefully past) scenes of hostility live together, in mercantile peace. Perhaps the market, the dollar, binds us in good ways: Pakistanis, Arabs, Indians, Jews, as well as the aforementioned Serbs, Croatians, Bosnians, and others, tend business here.

I return to Devon for inspiration. This is America's low-bar-to-entry at its best. We don't ask much, except the desire to participate in a community. You don't have to look or sound or pray a particular way to join.

(Top photo -- North side of Devon, east of Western Avenue. Bottom photo -- New development, northeast corner of Devon and Rockwell Street.)

Milwaukee Avenue Bicycle Commute -- Changing Attitudes

If you want to count on seeing bicyclists in Chicago, regardless of the weather, I recommend Milwaukee Avenue, anywhere between Logan Square and the Loop. During one one-mile ride, I counted more than one hundred cyclists heading in the opposite direction. On warm summer days, you would be sure to see more on the lakefront path, but on Milwaukee, you will see dedicated, life-altered commuters.

How does one encourage bicycling? Of course, through design -- of roads, signage, lighting, and land use. The environment, at every scale, can discourage or encourage cycling. A second factor, which is more difficult to quantify or control, is through changing cultural attitudes. Attitude may be why Milwaukee Avenue is such a cycling thoroughfare. It connects neighborhoods with large young populations, usually more open to trying new or "forbidden" things.

Flowers Curbed/Curbs Alive

In the last two decades in San Francisco and Chicago, flowers have come to the street. Our greatest public space, in terms of quantity and accessibility, is the street in front of our house. Instead of being mere car conduits, they should serve multiple purposes. To be beautiful and, literally, alive, are two of them.

(Above, roses at the intersection of Wood Street and Augusta Boulevard, Chicago)

Eckhart Park's Ida Crown Natatorium: Modern and Fun

The Ida Crown Natatorium, in Eckhart Park in Chicago's West Town, caught my eye when I returned to the city in 2006. Modernist? Yes, structure and glass is all we can see from the outside. But this is a special kind of Modernism, one that is, skillfully, both spare and fun.

Colored windows (shown in the photo to the right, and brighter from the inside, which I was prohibited from photographing), an arched structure that is both roof and the whole building (below), and the blue sign announcing it (above), give the pool an appropriately light and toungue-in-cheek look. It is a kind of Modernism rarely presented in the United States as an example of this style, even though we see it in the work of Eero Saarinen (for example, the David S. Ingalls hockey rink in New Haven), Oscar Niemeyer (Brazil), and Carlos Raúl Villanueva (Venezuela).

Graceland Cemetery -- A Great Place to Die

For the first time in my life I visited Graceland Cemetery in Chicago. Sometimes I avoid doing things that I would like to do -- classic delayed gratification. Sometimes I think I do this so that I have to return to a place ("I forgot to ride the metro... "). Graceland is one of those special places that I have put off visiting, until today.

I have never been more excited about the prospect of being dead. It was a strange sensation, but the idea of being buried in the middle of the city, with the elevated train for background, seemed very comforting. The cemetery is also very beautiful, filled with the works, and remains of, some of Chicago's most prominent architects. "Eternal Silence" (above, by Lorado Taft, 1909) is an example of the high quality of the work. I wouldn't want to mess with Death (he looks serious).

Illinois: The Beauty of Restraint

Illinois, despite Chicago having the reputation of being boastful (the "windy city"), is quiet about its gifts. Perhaps that is why I love my home. Other places may have as much to offer, but present it in an off-putting, self-aggrandizing way.

There is beauty in restraint. The sign and entrance at left (the offices of Illinois Engraving and Manufacturing Company, 4530 N. Ravenswood Avenue in Chicago) are an example. Metal, brick, stone, in a pleasing composition.