all canceled

cancels_A

how many people look at cancelations. well this person obviously did. in the world of stamp collecting the art of cancelation is laboriously followed by some. the world of the philatelist is filled with countless and unusual titles about the subject: the cancellations of waterbury, connecticut from 1865 to 1890, twentieth century united states fancy cancels, the new york foreign mail cancellations 1870-1876, obliterations et marques postales des etats-unis. of this world one of my favorite categories is fancy cancels. before there were cancelation machines, the individual postal clerk or office would often make their own rubber stamp to cancel a stamp. some of these examples are glorious; carved pumpkin heads, skeleton heads, all types of shapes. this particular collection doesn’t have any fancy cancels but i love it nonetheless. believe it or not this is something i don’t collect. there is so much to love about this collection. the simple rows. the beautiful colors. the repetition. the care in which they were cut out. the handwriting at the top. order. simplicity. color. why did someone collect these cities? what was so special about them? it appears they were collected mostly around 1860. i expect a philatelist specializing in england could shed some light on this particular collection. i am only left to speculate and admire. i recall many of my purchases and this one is no different. this was purchased at the annual epherema fair held in greenwich connecticut. it is usually a high priced affair with few bargains. i don’t think i paid much for this piece. thirty five dollars i seem to recall. i didn’t haggle because i bought a few other things from this dealer. beauties in themselves. paul rand book jackets. no books just the jackets. in perfect shape too, but that’s another story. this little collection wasn’t displayed but was found in a portfolio with all kinds of items. i was thrilled to discover it. i have spoken about my desire to collect ‘collections’, this defines my category of ‘collections of collections’. i do not attend these shows with expectatios as i once did. i am no longer the first in line nor eager to make the definitive find. i have now subscribed to the mantra: whatever turns up. my approach to this blog too!

cancels_b

cancels_c


spoon it up

sppons

writing about my collections has turned out to be something altogether different than i thought it would be. what i thought was just modernist books and ephemera evidently encompasses just about everything. much to my displeasure, actually. i thought of myself as a focused and discerning collector, but now it seems i am all over the place. here is a perfect example: two spoons from the 17th century. three-hundred-year-old spoons. why spoons? i don’t have any others. have your ever seen jasper morrison’s book, spoons? these hand-carved pieces were such perfect examples of beauty and utility that i couldn’t resist. purchased in an antique shop in stockholm. they are delicately light but durable. beauty in simplicity. an admirable trait. these same attributes coincided in the launch of for many things. here is one particular instance: we received a call from a prospective client on a friday afternoon and were asked to submit a presentation in a very short time. the first thing i did after hanging up the phone was call laura and tell her to come in on sunday. i had no concept, no visuals and no idea were i was going with this project, but i knew whatever i pulled together she would make sense of it all. i worked feverishly until sunday afternoon and of course laura was able to weave a wonderful story line through the project. it turned out to be one of which i am most proud. However, what excited me most was that the next day laura received a call from another studio to work on the very same assignment. needless to say, calling laura first was my best creative decision. please enjoy her blog and maybe you will get from it some of what i have gotten from her over the years. fresh ideas, wonderful inspiration and, most of all, sincerity. certainly worth more than a spoonful.


art direction

art_direction

i mentioned previously that i take photo after photo of found gloves. as
my daughter grew, she became my spotter. “dad,” she’d say, “there’s a good one.” how did she learn which one was a good one was? i must have articulated the finer points of a run-over glove. having a child has it rewards and one of my favorite memories is of hearing my daughter answer this question: “what does your dad do?” “he’s an art director.” “what does an art director do? “well, he knows when a picture is good or not.” how about that. do i really? i guess that’s as good as any explanation i’ve heard. when i first came to new york and had the opportunity to work as an art director for bergdorf goodman, i attended a new york dinner with models, art directors, photographers—a serious fashion crowd. i was excited. they were all consumed by their work and life, as i was. since i had lived in the city only for a short while, i was as green as green could be. this scene and its myriad levels of sophistication intrigued and intimidated me. i was seated next to a fashionable blonde and, when she asked what i did for a living, i replied that i was a graphic designer. at the time, i was designing an identity for bergdorf’s new men’s store. i asked what she did. “an art director.” “what’s the difference?” i asked naïvely. she looked at me coldly and blankly and said, quite seriously, “the difference is a graphic designer takes a photograph, places it on a page and puts white space all around it. an art director takes that same photo and bleeds it on all four sides.” i laughed; she didn’t. when i saw this cartoon in the new yorker years ago, i cut it out and added it to all the others i have saved over the years. the memory of all this came back to me upon seeing the cartoon. it’s certainly another explanation to consider.
i mentioned previously that i take photo after photo of found gloves. as my daughter grew, she became my spotter. “dad,” she’d say, “there’s a good one.” how did she learn which one was a good one was? i must have articulated the finer points of a run-over glove. having a child has it rewards and one of my favorite memories is of hearing my daughter answer this question: “what does your dad do?” “he’s an art director.” “what does an art director do? “well, he knows when a picture is good or not.” how about that. do i really? i guess that’s as good as any explanation i’ve heard. when i first came to new york and had the opportunity to work as an art director for bergdorf goodman, i attended a new york dinner with models, art directors, photographers—a serious fashion crowd. i was excited. they were all consumed by their work and life, as i was. since i had lived in the city only for a short while, i was as green as green could be. this scene and its myriad levels of sophistication intrigued and intimidated me. i was seated next to a fashionable blonde and, when she asked what i did for a living, i replied that i was a graphic designer. at the time, i was designing an identity for bergdorf’s new men’s store. i asked what she did. “an art director.” “what’s the difference?” i asked naïvely. she looked at me coldly and blankly and said, quite seriously, “the difference is a graphic designer takes a photograph, places it on a page and puts white space all around it. an art director takes that same photo and bleeds it on all four sides.” i laughed; she didn’t. when i saw this cartoon in the new yorker years ago, i cut it out and added it to all the others i have saved over the years. the memory of all this came back to me upon seeing the cartoon. it’s certainly another explanation to consider.

black and orange

black and orange
great typography speaks for itself. i expressed that i did not collect tobacciana. well, it seems i was wrong. as i dig through my collections, i discover piece after piece of cigar- or cigarette-related items. here is just one example of a wonderful package of tobacco: mac greennock’s. I love the phrase “point to point cut.” black and orange. beauty at its most simple. attending flea markets and paper fairs has always been something i have found interesting, although i never fully understood this passion until i was in one place for an extended length of time. new york city has afforded me such a time period. this past september marked my twentieth year in the big, hard apple. before moving to new york, i dated my wife during the summer of ‘89. i had finished yale and was interviewing in new york. before i moved to the city, i invited her to stay with me in new haven and we visited connecticut countryside. our first sleepaway weekend was to pittsville, mass. to visit the handcock shaker village. i had never been and i saw it as an
opportunity to drive up route seven, check out the myriad antique shops and eat local food. it was poking around in one of these shops that i discovered this package. fifty cents was the right price. a wonderful inspiration that made it to my shelf but was completely lost on my “date.” I learned a lot on that trip up route seven, and i’m still learning from this package.

cigerrette_package

great typography speaks for itself. i expressed that i did not collect tobacciana. well, it seems i was wrong. as i dig through my collections, i discover piece after piece of cigar- or cigarette-related items. here is just one example of a wonderful package of tobacco: mac greennock’s. I love the phrase “point to point cut.” black and orange. beauty at its most simple. attending flea markets and paper fairs has always been something i have found interesting, although i never fully understood this passion until i was in one place for an extended length of time. new york city has afforded me such a time period. this past september marked my twentieth year in the big, hard apple. before moving to new york, i dated my wife during the summer of ‘89. i had finished yale and was interviewing in new york. before i moved to the city, i invited her to stay with me in new haven and we visited the connecticut countryside. our first sleepaway weekend was to pittsville, mass. to visit the handcock shaker village. i had never been and i saw it as an opportunity to drive up route seven, check out the myriad antique shops and eat local food. it was poking around in one of these shops that i discovered this package. fifty cents was the right price. a wonderful inspiration that made it to my shelf but was completely lost on my “date.” I learned a lot on that trip up route seven, and i’m still learning from this package.


amass for sale

amassbooth

just in case you missed me this past weekend. that’s my daughter using ichat to pass the time. she sold some wicked chocolate chip cookies.


herb lubalin

herb lubalin067


something found

glove_3

it’s apparent i collect many things, but i don’t purchase all of them. here is a series that numbers close to two hundred or so pictures of found gloves. walking new york affords many wonderful visual opportunities and the chance to happen upon many things. i have been taking pictures of gloves for more than ten years. i use an automatic contax film camera and am quite obsessive about where I get my film developed. in paris, no less. my wife used to take regular trips and I would have her drop off the film once a year or so. she has not been in some time so i have about twenty rolls that need to be developed. patience is a virtue.

a many years ago in the new york times, the editorial page published a pictorial of found gloves. this was way before flickr and fffound and the countless online image banks, so to see that someone else shared “my” collection was disheartening. i have learned over the years that nothing is your own. so much is in the air. i have enjoyed spotting the odd glove and am now happy use my iphone to capture them when i don’t have my film camera. whereas not long ago i had to have my camera and all the elements needed to be just so.

this past weekend i was at the beach and the weather was bright, clear and cool. snuggling under the comforter and having a chat with my nine-year-old daughter was a wonderful thing. the conversation was about conventions. not a doll convention but about what i have come to believe about the practice of life—conventions or customs. i told her about my custom of only using my film camera or of always wearing a tie to church. i asked if she’d seen many other men wear a tie. she said she always wears a skirt, is this is a convention or a custom? and i told her that many conventions that i abide by are no longer the norm. shining my shoes for instance. so few people do this themselves, much less have shoes that need to be shined. i wanted her to understand that the customs and rules we follow are changing everyday and she should be aware of this. i tend to talk to my daughter like she is eighteen. I remember visiting the whitney to see the john currin exhibition. she was three or four and we had a discussion about one of his paintings. she doesn’t understand a word you’re saying, my wife said. is that bad? I hope not. i do know she felt it even if she didn’t understand it.

Continue reading something found…


my scraps

scrapbook11

i make books out of scraps. does that make them scrapbooks? i suppose they are. at the very least, it’s my way of keeping things that come across my desk, making compositions that look interesting. green is a good color, but orange is even better. numbers: what graphic designer doesn’t like numbers? is it a pattern that holds everything together, or is it the repetition? all I know is that I find it endlessly interesting to stare at a page and make relationships with color, shape and form. this page dates from 2005, but then again, the pages are never really finished. i come back to them again and again. and again. please visit the daily scrapbook and see some of my other pages. also, thank you jessica for your kindness and friendship over the years.