Red Polka Dot

Alexander Calder's sculpture at King Storm Art Center, photo by Della Chuang

Scent triggers memory, so does color. 

Red color reminds me of polka dot.  So naturally, when I was looking through the cut-out circle of the American sculptor Alexander Calder's red sculpture in King Storm Art Center, I thought of the Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama((草間彌生), who uses polka dots throughout much of her works.

Anti-Self-Portrait

On a shinny early afternoon, I used light and exposure to acquire my almost anti-self-portrait, relating to my Nordic story more through "sketch style" than through my own physical identity.

This photo is not digitally altered in any way, and at certain degree, it reminds me of the work of the Chinese artist Liang Kai (梁楷, late 12th-early 13th centry), who was known as a mastery in evoking the subject or atmosphere with minimal use of detail.

Photo by Della, Finland

In the Mood for Indigo

On the market in Sa Pa, Vietnam, I strolled down the narrow alleys among a crowd of indigenous women in different shades of blue.

Suddenly there were these Black H'mong girls in front of me. They seemed enchanted by the sky, gazing upon it solemnly, as if there was a god smiling at them.

When the rice-scented breeze rustled through their tribal garb to lap against their sun-kissed skin, I quietly took a picture of them and immersed myself in indigo melancholy.

photo by della, vietnam

In the Mood for White

When it's snow all around, 

you've just got to stay still 

until you get used to the white.

Gradually,

You'd smell the scent of white 

in your hair, 

in your collar, 

in your heart.

photo by della

To All My Loved Ones...

To all my loved ones...

Have fun with "One Mighty Drop", a perfume campaign created by Fragrance Foundation. 

Love to see your design too!

In the Mood for Night

I woke up in the middle of night. All was silent except the occasional whine of truck tires in the distance. The street lamps lining the shopping street outside cast their artificial light into my room, out of the blue, I thought of J.D. Salinger, the author of The Catcher in the Rye ( 麥田捕手 in Chinese), who dies a few days ago.

"phony" and loneliness and rebellion and adolescent and drunkenness and enigma and idealist and New York and wanderer and stream of consciousness...

He is as dark as night, but smells like teen.

photo by Della Chuang

In the Mood for Rain

The raindrops on the windows in my New York apartment were like strings of pearls. Eyeing them in a melancholic mood, I suddenly thought of the unusual, endless rain in California where I just visited last week.

The raindrops also reminded me of the rain in the cities where I have visited:

The rain in Kyoto. 

The rain in Hanoi. 

The rain in Paris. 

The rain in Stockholm. 

The rain in Taipei.

The rain in Lausanne.

The rain in Dublin.

The rain in Hong Kong. 

The rain in Lisboa.

Et cetra, Et cetra.

To me, the rain of each city has its own tactile sensation. Take Lisboa as an example: it smells like green olive trees swaying in the breeze and the blue waves of the Pacific Ocean rolling in. 

Photo by Della Chuang, Lisboa.

In the Mood for Light

In Helsinki, light is the sensation of sea breezes and clear crystals, pure and crisp with a hint of birch dancing with violet, mandarin, and cardamom.

By the way, don't you think this image look like a window display by Van Cleef & Arpels, a French jewelry company renowned for its nature-inspired design?

Blink!

Photo by Della Chuang, Finland

Taste the Rainbow in the Alps

 After sipping a few glasses of white and red wine, Della's photos were getting blurry and blurry.

We had an unforgetful New Year Eve dinner at Gasthaus Speiserestaurant in the Swiss Alps.

The eight-course meal, created by the talented chef Friedrich Zemanek, resembled a GESAMTKUNSTWERK, addressed to all the senses and  was served by all sorts of auxiliary arts relating to the flower arrangements, the dinnerware and the cutlery, and the visual presentation of the edible. As for the food itself, it completely aroused our appetite s through its colors, smell, consistency and even sound (e.g. crispy aliments).

Though it was a cold starry night, the taste of the food brought us joy --- like a warm and colorful rainbow in the blue sky.

I am passing the warmest regards to you from the chef Zemanek --- Happy New Year.

In the Mood for Red

 photo by della chuang

To the fashion designer Bill Bass, "Red is the ultimate cure for sadness." And to the painter Wassily Kandinsky, red is very living, lively and agitated, it posses an immense force, it is a movement in oneself.

As for me, red is like the winter sunshine on my face.

Red...

feels warm like velvet

tastes strong like vodka
 

smells spicy like apple cider with loads of cinnamon and clove

sounds merry like the Xmas jingle bells

Yes. Merry Xmas, my dear friends.

In the Mood for Blue

photo by della chuang

Which country

looks blue

sounds blue

feels blue

tastes blue

smells blue?

Finland it is.

Fragrance of the Nordic Air

Bliss --- today is my first day out for a walk after I twisted my right ankle while doing a head stand. My foot had sent up a white flag, and I was therefore like a bird in a cage for the past two weeks.

It was – 17 degree Celsius (1.4  degree Fahrenheit) in the morning. Stepping out with my winter boots, I took a deep inhale and allowed fragrance of the Nordic air to enter and penetrate my Being. I stuffed my gloved hands in my pockets, curled my head to my chest, and set foot into the woods.

The solid crunch of my winter boots against the white snow filled the crisp air with a relaxing and chanting sound, which scratched a primal itch that reminded me of a delicious smell --- the aroma of Swiss dark chocolate waffles.

I slowly and deeply took an inhale: mmmmh, w-a-f-f-l-e. Then I crunched loud and crunched merry deep into the white Finnish woods.

Design in Nature

photo by della chuang

I am still suffering from a jet lag and a cold that I caught
in New York.

Not being able to tell anything meaningful, I would like to
show you something wonderful.

I always feel humbled by the design in nature, and I do not believe anything I can design can compare to the beauty of the natural world...

Hear a Ginkgo Leaf Falling 聽到飄零的銀杏葉

I finished a design project. I had some time on my hands. I sat with my legs crossed, my eyes closed. I blocked out distractions, thoughts, and sensations. I concentrated on the sounds I heard. It was difficult to hear with focus at the first beginning. Gradually, I became aware of layers upon layers of overlapping noises.

The coo, hoot, twitter and chirp of birds from the back yard. The distant grind and groan of a car. The strident shouts, cries and chatter of children on the playground. The steady hum from the refrigerator in the kitchen. The pounding, heavy footsteps from the staircase in my walk-up apartment building. The unidentified snorts, laughter, bangs, honks, squeaks, creaks and whistles.

Twenty minutes latter, I opened my eyes. I stretched my body, and I heard a voice in my mind: more practice, and bigger ears, I could get to hear a ginkgo leaf falling on the sidewalk of Mott street in NoLiTa.

Perspective 觀點

New York Downtown Style: Chinese version vs. Taiwanese version

The old Egyptians drew the head in profile but rendered the eye as if it were on a front view – the body is more recognizable from front than side. However, arms and legs are more clearly described from the side.

Cubism combined glances taken from different angles at different moments into a single composition. A picture that wasn’t meant to look like anything but itself.

My first book New York Downtown Style (bilingual), first introduced to the reader in 2006, is now released in China with a new design by the Hong Kong born graphic designer Lu Zhi-Chang (Simplified Chinese: 陆智昌). Looking back and forth between the first and second covers, I could sense the difference from each other in composition, temperament, and tempo. In Lu's work (the left image), forms are more solid, enigmatic, and cooler. And to Lou Hsin-Mei (Traditional Chinese: 羅心梅), her approaches are more joyful , funkier and sweeter.

Different cultures, different times, different designers – different points of view.

A Rose Is Not a Rose 不是玫瑰的玫瑰

The American historian Alice Morse Earle wrote, "The fragrance of the sweetest rose is beyond an other flower scent, it is irresistible, enthralling; you cannot leave it. I have never doubted the rose has some compelling quality not shared by other flowers...". Seen in this light, the fragrance experts claim that the rose perfume creates a mysterious atmosphere and state of mind conducive to romance.

Although the words rose and fragrance go together like hand and glove, rose is my least favorite scent. I rather exclaim over color and beauty of a rose in a full bloom than smelling it from a perfume bottle. More than any other sense, smells keenly evoke memories and feelings for me.

A rose fragrance with gourmet touches makes me ill. Worn by a person who easily lost himself in the rage. It’s truly a horrible smell!

Last night, in a gallery opening on Broome Street in SoHo, I was having a drink and gazing at the artwork in the fashion crowd. A peculiar rose smell suddenly hit my nose and it was like a nasal déjà vu – I shivered, a chill rushed down my spine. I had to leave right away because the sickening smell permeated my nostrils.

To me, a rose doesn’t lose its color in the rain, but it does lose its fragrance in my olfactory memory.

Inspired by René François Ghislain Magritte, I conjured up an image of rose in a contradictive context : the rose is not a rose, because it does not smell.

Do You Hear My Design? 你聽出了我的設計嗎？

It's known that music can respond and appeal directly to an artist's "internal element" and express spiritual values. On writing, the French poet Charles Baudelaire affirmed that "scents, colors and sounds answer one another". On painting, the Russian artist Wassily Kandinsky had this to say:

"Color is the keyboard, the eyes are the harmonies, the soul is the piano with many strings. The artist is the hand that plays, touching one key then another to cause vibration in the soul. It is therefore evident that color harmony must rely only on a corresponding vibration in the human soul."

If scent is the music for our nose, color is the music for our eyes.

I don't have a good ear to listen, but I appreciate music. Music allows me a freedom of imagination, interpretation, and emotional response on my design. I especially feel attracted to Bach, whose works are greatly admired for their intellectual depth, technical command and artistic beauty.

While working, I like to play Bach's music. I often picture myself walking through fields of paper, touching it with my pencil as if I'm composing the most enchanting music. To me, the organic and geometric shapes that I draw on my sketchbook are like Bach's musical notes that tangle with my joy and happiness.

I was enthralled by Kandinsky's curious gift of colour-hearing (synaesthesia), which he successfully translated onto canvas as "visual music". His artistic ambition got me thinking that, as a designer without the capacity to see sound and hear color, how I can conjure a visual presentation of music that illustrates the affinities between shapes and colors?

Therefore, I crabbed my pencil and started my musical adventure: I drew circles, triangles, and squares, one by one, and filled them in colors. Then, I made them sing with all the intensity I could to create a perfect visual harmony...

My dear readers, this is the creative process of this poster design that I pay homage to Kandinsky. Before you leave let me ask you. Do you hear my design?

Color of the Moment 剎那時光的色彩

One afternoon when I was writing the ‘color’ essay in my silver Mac power book in my New York apartment, it started raining like cats and dogs. The thunderstorm made the room so pitch black. Getting up from my black chair to turn on the yellow light, off-guardedly, I saw the colorful window… Looking out of the brown wooden-framed window, I was struck by the beautiful color abstract scene. I couldn’t see my neighbor’s red brick wall and the green trees in the back yard any more. The silver heavy rain was making the brick wall and the trees almost invisible in a blur of forest green and burgundy. What I was used to see is not what I was seeing. The rhythm of the falling rain is the sound of Ryuichi Sakamoto’s piano. The color vibration of my window is the color palette of Kandinsky.

Design with a Japanese Mind - A Conversation with Takeshi Wakabayashi 若林剛之

My name is Takeshi Wakabayashi
I owe a great deal to the nature of Kyoto.

When I need to be alone, I often take a stroll in Tadasu no Mori (糺の森), “the forest of truth”. I am happy and at peace with myself in this forest. It is natural, not pruned or planted by human beings. I also enjoy the late afternoon breeze in the spring. A kind of breeze is just like what the eccentric Zen Buddhist priest and poet Ikkyu Sojun (一休宗純, 1394-1481) described: “Break open a cherry tree and there are no flowers, but the spring breeze brings forth myriad blossoms”. The breeze carries away the day’s grievances of mine and puts me at ease.

From ancient times to the present, the Japanese people have celebrated the beauty of nature and the poignancy of its seasonal rhythm of the moon, the sakura blossom, the river and the forest. Inspired by nature impulses, they created meditations on the fleeting seasons of life and, through them, expressed essential truths about the nature of human experience.

Iki, the Japanese aesthetic ideal
The patterns of human experience forms culture, and the critical reflection on culture, art, and nature shapes aesthetics. Zen was formalized in China. Chan, as it is known in China, took root in Japan in the thirteenth century. Zen Buddhism’s emphasis on simplicity, emptiness, and the impermanence of the natural world generated a distinctive Japanese aesthetic. Therefore, the appreciation of nature has been fundamental to many Japanese aesthetic ideals, artistic expressions, and other cultural elements.

But the highly refined Japanese aesthetic sensibility is not only about the sensual appeal of elements of the natural world, but also about the human emotions it imbues them with. The main theme in Japanese aesthetics is that objects are alive and should be in harmony. Iki (いき, often written 粋), a traditional aesthetic ideal in Japan, illustrates this value of Japanese aesthetic.

Iki is not simply “Japanese things”. It can be used for almost anything, but especially for people. Iki is not found in nature itself, but can be found in the human act of appreciating the beauty of nature. Iki is associated with a thing or situation that is simple, improvised, straight, restrained, temporary, romantic, ephemeral, original, refined, inconspicuous, etc.; it can also be related to a person who is audacious, chic, pert, tacit, sassy, unselfconscious, calm, indifferent, unintentionally coquettish, open-minded, and restrained.

Satou Toshi-san, the owner of Tawaraya Ryokan in Kyoto, is the perfect example of Iki to me. I'm not only impressed by her personal style, but also influenced by her sense of fashion, architecture, taste, and hospitality. She is truly a pioneer in creating a new style inspired by Kyoto tradition!

Design with a Japanese mind
In my 20s, I used to be called “the American boy”, owing my obsession with Ralph Lauren's collection. But soon after turning 30, I started to question my running after Western fashion as a Japanese designer. Moreover, what is the “modern” Japanese style? Just like you, Della-san. Becuase you are educated in America, with roots in Asia, I don’t see you viewing art and literature only with the Western eyes, right?

The aesthetic system of Japan is significantly different from that of the West. For example:
• Contrary to the precise geometrical values in the Western world, Japanese use diagonal, rather than a centrally placed horizontal or vertical line when dividing a rectangle symmetrically.
• In the West, the pictorial quality is based on realm; in contrast, Japanese characterize the elements drawn from the natural world in an abstract from.
• The West worships a permanent beauty and a complex context; Japanese praise the beauty of nature and its harmonious simplicity.

As a designer, I am open to anything. But things that take full concentration and excessive training attract me the most, such as calligraphy, tea ceremony, and traditional craftsmanship. Therefore, inspired as I am by the sublime Japanese aesthetics, I see no need to adopt Western ideals. And as an upholder of the need to rediscover and appreciate Japanese traditional values, albeit in an apparently revolutionary guise, I established the “Made In Japan” brand – Sou • Sou.

Sou • Sou, pronounced as so – so in English, expresses the ultimate statement of Japanese lifestyle. It is a typical Japanese way to say the word when we make a nod to maintain a friendly and harmonious atmosphere during a conversation. Although the word doesn’t convey a meaning of “yes”, it implies “I agree with you” and “I understand you”.

Sou • Sou has always made the point: discovering and interpreting avant-garde art in Japan, and the roots that bind it to the cultural and aesthetic values of the country’s own tradition. It doesn’t matter if the design is for Jika-Tabi (split-toe shoes, 地下足袋) or textile; all of Sou • Sou’s works derive their aesthetic merit from the fact that it cannot be fully achieved without perfect execution!

Tradition is present
When I walked in the courtyard of Shimogamo Jinja, I saw the glow of sunset deepening and hanging on the torii gate . Even though Kyoto is a modern city of more than a million, the weight of history and the force of tradition have given the streets of the city an undeniable unified and harmonious atmosphere, beyond the well-known image of temples and geishas.

Tradition lives in the present, and it is our key to the past.

All Children Are Poets 所有的小孩都是詩人

"Things," said film director Robert Bresson, "are made more visible not by more light, but by the fresh angle at which I regard them." It doesn't matter if those are created by Albert Einstein, written by James Joyce, or fashioned by Alberto Giacometti, things are merely alternative versions of the same hologram. Thus, altering our particular personal construct requires a substantial leap of imagination as we need to see things from a new angle.

We have been told that all children are poets, and through the children's bright eyes, the world throbs with life and is inhabited by all manner of beautiful, powerful folk. Ever since I started documenting the sublime beauty of Kyoto through my Cannon camera, I have been wondering what this city would look like to its children.

Children drawings are the poetic recording of the facts of childhood. Miho, a seven-year-old Kyotoite girl, presented to me her art project using nothing but colored pencils. In her manga-styled drawing, Miho's Kyoto story goes like this –

The little Miho: Let's go. Guys.
The boy in the middle who is leaning over a pond: Ah. Look at the Koi fishes. Are they friends?
The boy on the right who just fell from his bike: Oooouuugh! it hurts.
The Koi on the left: W-A-I-T.
The Koi on the right: Here. Here.

*The tower on the upper left corner is Toji temple.

Picasso says, "Every child is an artist. It's a challenge to remain an artist when you grow up". I am not sure if I am an artist to Picasso's standard, but I believe that even when I turn 100 years old, there will always be a child in me who will believe in the wonders and magic of life and of living, who will marvel at the unknown and yearn to satisfy my curiosity, who will still dream and look at the world with child-like innocence....