Sohohos

Following shiny things on the interwebs

your Friday jam. you are welcome.

dr. john— revolution

Kalanchoe “pink butterflies’

succulents are the coolest of plants. seriously, these are from earth?

Amy Bennett
The paintings are glimpses of a scene or fragments of a narrative. Similar to a memory, they are fictional constructions of significant moments meant to elicit specific feelings and to provoke the viewer to consider the moment before or after the one presented in the painting. I am interested in storytelling over time through repeated depictions of the same house or car or person, seasonal changes, and shifting vantage points. Like the disturbing difficulty of trying to put rolls of film in order several years after the pictures have been taken, my aim is for the collective images to suggest a known past that is just beyond reach. Amy Bennett
The paintings are glimpses of a scene or fragments of a narrative. Similar to a memory, they are fictional constructions of significant moments meant to elicit specific feelings and to provoke the viewer to consider the moment before or after the one presented in the painting. I am interested in storytelling over time through repeated depictions of the same house or car or person, seasonal changes, and shifting vantage points. Like the disturbing difficulty of trying to put rolls of film in order several years after the pictures have been taken, my aim is for the collective images to suggest a known past that is just beyond reach.

Amy Bennett

The paintings are glimpses of a scene or fragments of a narrative. Similar to a memory, they are fictional constructions of significant moments meant to elicit specific feelings and to provoke the viewer to consider the moment before or after the one presented in the painting. I am interested in storytelling over time through repeated depictions of the same house or car or person, seasonal changes, and shifting vantage points. Like the disturbing difficulty of trying to put rolls of film in order several years after the pictures have been taken, my aim is for the collective images to suggest a known past that is just beyond reach.

Camel Thorn Trees, Namibia
Photograph by Frans Lanting, National Geographic Camel Thorn Trees, Namibia
Photograph by Frans Lanting, National Geographic

Camel Thorn Trees, Namibia

Photograph by Frans Lanting, National Geographic

http://helenmusselwhite.com/index.htm

Gorgeous hand cut papers from Helen Musselwhite.

It’s hard for me to pick what the strangest part of this video is, but I think it really hits its stride at the 4:19 mark. Italian television circa 1970’s

Vietnamese Coffee—This coffee fiend has a new quest.

Vietnamese iced coffee, also known as Ca phe da or cafe da (Vietnamese: cà phê đá, literally “ice coffee”) is a traditional Vietnamese coffee recipe.

“Vietnamese iced coffee with milk”, also known as ca phe sua da or cà phê sữa đá It is also called ca phe nau da (Vietnamese: cà phê nâu đá, “iced brown coffee”) in northern Vietnam.

At its simplest, Ca phe da is made with finely ground Vietnamese-grown dark roast coffee individually brewed with a small metal French drip filter (cà phê phin) into a cup containing about a quarter to a half as much sweetened condensed milk, stirred and poured over ice.

Coffee was introduced into Vietnam by French colonists in the late 19th century. Vietnam quickly became a strong exporter of coffee with many plantations in the central highlands. The beverage was adopted with regional variations. Because of limitations on the availability of fresh milk, the French and Vietnamese began to use sweetened condensed milk with a dark roast coffee.

Vietnamese-Americans introduced the practice of adding chicory to coffee, and many Americans today believe that all true Vietnamese coffee contains chicory.[1] One brand that uses chicory is Cafe du Monde, often cited as the coffee to use when brewing Vietnamese iced coffee. However, Cafe du Monde originated in New Orleans, and chicory coffee is an American phenomenon.[2] In Vietnam, coffee is never served with chicory [3][citation needed]. Thus, a “true” Vietnamese iced coffee will not contain chicory, but will instead be a Vietnamese brand such as Trung Nguyen or Indochine Coffee, both of which are headquartered in Vietnam and offer exclusively coffee grown in the central highlands.

With Nurture Studies, Diana Scherer presents an archive of flowers she has grown from seed over a six-month period. Rather than letting the flowers grow in open soil, she has forced each plant to develop within the confines of a vase. Only at the end of the process does she remove the plant’s corset, exposing roots that retain their shape as an evocation of the now absent vase.

There is an inherent contradiction in Scherer’s working method. Although she is dedicated to the project and keeps a close eye on whether the roots are developing as desired—checking them carefully and with the utmost precision—her ability to manipulate the plants’ growth is limited. She has to accept the impossibility of total control. This contrast between almost obsessive monitoring and an inability to fundamentally influence events becomes an intense, almost ritual presence in her work. Scherer’s photos are carefully rationed, showing a single moment as the culmination of a long process of growth. She documents the flowers at their peak, just before they begin to shrivel as the plants start to die.

The photos Scherer has produced for Nurture Studies recall the illustrations in seventeenth-century botanical encyclopaedias, which presented flowers roots and all. Her work also has strong similarities with 1970s plant books, in which indoor plants were often arranged on a pedestal and set off with fabrics that added a romantic touch to the whole. Although clearly referring to these predecessors, Scherer has no difficulty avoiding the perceived cosiness of the “pot plant” genre. Her images are bare, unadorned. The careful observer will notice that most of the plants are anything but perfect specimens. Brown edges and broken stems show that mortality is already making its presence felt. The pink aster’s leaves are already dying off and other plants, dandelion and cow parsley for instance, wouldn’t be deemed worthy of a second glance on the side of the road. Scherer treats them all as equals.

The floral portraits form a pendant to earlier photo series in which Scherer opted for much rawer imagery, things like young girls lying on the ground with their backs to the camera, collapsed like rag dolls, so that viewers almost automatically think of them as victims (Mädchen, 2002–2007). In Nurture Studies this confrontational imagery has made way for subtlety. Although the flowers, with their exposed roots, look just as fragile as the girls, Scherer avoids any semblance of drama, mainly by the objectivity of her photographic style, arranging the plants upright in the frame and photographing them with a technical camera. This approach is consistent with the orderly way collectors catalogue their objects. With Nurture Studies, Diana Scherer presents an archive of flowers she has grown from seed over a six-month period. Rather than letting the flowers grow in open soil, she has forced each plant to develop within the confines of a vase. Only at the end of the process does she remove the plant’s corset, exposing roots that retain their shape as an evocation of the now absent vase.

There is an inherent contradiction in Scherer’s working method. Although she is dedicated to the project and keeps a close eye on whether the roots are developing as desired—checking them carefully and with the utmost precision—her ability to manipulate the plants’ growth is limited. She has to accept the impossibility of total control. This contrast between almost obsessive monitoring and an inability to fundamentally influence events becomes an intense, almost ritual presence in her work. Scherer’s photos are carefully rationed, showing a single moment as the culmination of a long process of growth. She documents the flowers at their peak, just before they begin to shrivel as the plants start to die.

The photos Scherer has produced for Nurture Studies recall the illustrations in seventeenth-century botanical encyclopaedias, which presented flowers roots and all. Her work also has strong similarities with 1970s plant books, in which indoor plants were often arranged on a pedestal and set off with fabrics that added a romantic touch to the whole. Although clearly referring to these predecessors, Scherer has no difficulty avoiding the perceived cosiness of the “pot plant” genre. Her images are bare, unadorned. The careful observer will notice that most of the plants are anything but perfect specimens. Brown edges and broken stems show that mortality is already making its presence felt. The pink aster’s leaves are already dying off and other plants, dandelion and cow parsley for instance, wouldn’t be deemed worthy of a second glance on the side of the road. Scherer treats them all as equals.

The floral portraits form a pendant to earlier photo series in which Scherer opted for much rawer imagery, things like young girls lying on the ground with their backs to the camera, collapsed like rag dolls, so that viewers almost automatically think of them as victims (Mädchen, 2002–2007). In Nurture Studies this confrontational imagery has made way for subtlety. Although the flowers, with their exposed roots, look just as fragile as the girls, Scherer avoids any semblance of drama, mainly by the objectivity of her photographic style, arranging the plants upright in the frame and photographing them with a technical camera. This approach is consistent with the orderly way collectors catalogue their objects.

With Nurture Studies, Diana Scherer presents an archive of flowers she has grown from seed over a six-month period. Rather than letting the flowers grow in open soil, she has forced each plant to develop within the confines of a vase. Only at the end of the process does she remove the plant’s corset, exposing roots that retain their shape as an evocation of the now absent vase.

There is an inherent contradiction in Scherer’s working method. Although she is dedicated to the project and keeps a close eye on whether the roots are developing as desired—checking them carefully and with the utmost precision—her ability to manipulate the plants’ growth is limited. She has to accept the impossibility of total control. This contrast between almost obsessive monitoring and an inability to fundamentally influence events becomes an intense, almost ritual presence in her work. Scherer’s photos are carefully rationed, showing a single moment as the culmination of a long process of growth. She documents the flowers at their peak, just before they begin to shrivel as the plants start to die.

The photos Scherer has produced for Nurture Studies recall the illustrations in seventeenth-century botanical encyclopaedias, which presented flowers roots and all. Her work also has strong similarities with 1970s plant books, in which indoor plants were often arranged on a pedestal and set off with fabrics that added a romantic touch to the whole. Although clearly referring to these predecessors, Scherer has no difficulty avoiding the perceived cosiness of the “pot plant” genre. Her images are bare, unadorned. The careful observer will notice that most of the plants are anything but perfect specimens. Brown edges and broken stems show that mortality is already making its presence felt. The pink aster’s leaves are already dying off and other plants, dandelion and cow parsley for instance, wouldn’t be deemed worthy of a second glance on the side of the road. Scherer treats them all as equals.

The floral portraits form a pendant to earlier photo series in which Scherer opted for much rawer imagery, things like young girls lying on the ground with their backs to the camera, collapsed like rag dolls, so that viewers almost automatically think of them as victims (Mädchen, 2002–2007). In Nurture Studies this confrontational imagery has made way for subtlety. Although the flowers, with their exposed roots, look just as fragile as the girls, Scherer avoids any semblance of drama, mainly by the objectivity of her photographic style, arranging the plants upright in the frame and photographing them with a technical camera. This approach is consistent with the orderly way collectors catalogue their objects.

The UX (for Urban eXperiment) is an underground organization that improves hidden corners of Paris. Their works have included restoring the Pantheon clock,[1] building a cinema, complete with bar and restaurant, underneath the Trocadéro, restoring medieval crypts, and staging plays and readings in monuments after dark. The group's membership is largely secret, but its spokespeople include Lazar Kunstmann. Contents

Beginning around 1982, the founders of the group stole plans of the many underground passage ways and tunnels for which Paris is famous. Using this information venues as a base, [2] the group of anonymous artists and citizens have restored much of the underground infrastructure, including the restoration of the Pantheon clock which chimed for the first time in many years after their repair. The shadowy group of unknowns is also responsible for over a dozen other projects, including those which the French government has not chosen to do or lacks funds for. [3][1]

That’s not a square! This is a square!
This is a celebration of the unique shapes of Boston’s so-called “squares,” which in actuality are usually complicated intersections and often entire neighborhoods. It’s a square poster showing simple silhouette-like maps of 32 squares in the immediate Boston area, each depicting the often weird shape of the central intersection. Prints are available.

Andy Woodruff http://andywoodruff.com/portfolio.html That’s not a square! This is a square!
This is a celebration of the unique shapes of Boston’s so-called “squares,” which in actuality are usually complicated intersections and often entire neighborhoods. It’s a square poster showing simple silhouette-like maps of 32 squares in the immediate Boston area, each depicting the often weird shape of the central intersection. Prints are available.

Andy Woodruff http://andywoodruff.com/portfolio.html

That’s not a square! This is a square!

This is a celebration of the unique shapes of Boston’s so-called “squares,” which in actuality are usually complicated intersections and often entire neighborhoods. It’s a square poster showing simple silhouette-like maps of 32 squares in the immediate Boston area, each depicting the often weird shape of the central intersection. Prints are available.

Andy Woodruff http://andywoodruff.com/portfolio.html

The Unst Bus Shelter, also known as Bobby’s Bus Shelter, is a famous bus shelter and bus stop near the village of Baltasound, on Unst, Shetland. It is maintained by the Shetland Islands Council.

It is located on the main road along Unst - the A968 - which runs between Belmont and Haroldswick.
The shelter is equipped with a sofa, a television, a computer etc. It is furnished and refurbished each year by local residents with a sofa, television, computer and other home comforts.[1] The bus shelter is named after a child, Bobby Macauley, who used to cycle to the shelter in the mornings to catch the bus to school. The local council had plans to remove the bus shelter, but after he sent them a letter asking them not to and explaining that the shelter is where he kept his bike while at school, the council left it there and furnished it. Every year, the shelter is redecorated in accordance with what is going on in Bobby’s life. In 2009 the shelter was decorated in pink to represent the fact that Bobby was working for a Breast Cancer charity.
http://www.unstbusshelter.shetland.co.uk/html/history.html The Unst Bus Shelter, also known as Bobby’s Bus Shelter, is a famous bus shelter and bus stop near the village of Baltasound, on Unst, Shetland. It is maintained by the Shetland Islands Council.

It is located on the main road along Unst - the A968 - which runs between Belmont and Haroldswick.
The shelter is equipped with a sofa, a television, a computer etc. It is furnished and refurbished each year by local residents with a sofa, television, computer and other home comforts.[1] The bus shelter is named after a child, Bobby Macauley, who used to cycle to the shelter in the mornings to catch the bus to school. The local council had plans to remove the bus shelter, but after he sent them a letter asking them not to and explaining that the shelter is where he kept his bike while at school, the council left it there and furnished it. Every year, the shelter is redecorated in accordance with what is going on in Bobby’s life. In 2009 the shelter was decorated in pink to represent the fact that Bobby was working for a Breast Cancer charity.
http://www.unstbusshelter.shetland.co.uk/html/history.html

The Unst Bus Shelter, also known as Bobby’s Bus Shelter, is a famous bus shelter and bus stop near the village of Baltasound, on Unst, Shetland. It is maintained by the Shetland Islands Council.

It is located on the main road along Unst - the A968 - which runs between Belmont and Haroldswick.

The shelter is equipped with a sofa, a television, a computer etc. It is furnished and refurbished each year by local residents with a sofa, television, computer and other home comforts.[1] The bus shelter is named after a child, Bobby Macauley, who used to cycle to the shelter in the mornings to catch the bus to school. The local council had plans to remove the bus shelter, but after he sent them a letter asking them not to and explaining that the shelter is where he kept his bike while at school, the council left it there and furnished it. Every year, the shelter is redecorated in accordance with what is going on in Bobby’s life. In 2009 the shelter was decorated in pink to represent the fact that Bobby was working for a Breast Cancer charity.

http://www.unstbusshelter.shetland.co.uk/html/history.html

interactive population density map

Following the installation by Anish Kapoor in 2011, Monumenta 2012 invited famed French artist Daniel Buren for the fifth edition of the annual challenge to create an installation that will fill the soaring nave of Paris’ Grand Palais. Buren’s take on the site-specific concept is “Excentrique(s), travail in situ”.
True to its name, what Buren has created can best be described as eccentric—a rainbow forest of hundreds of transparent, sunshade-like plastic saucers planted on flagstaffs spreads over the entire area of the 13,500-square-meter space, playing with the light pouring into the huge, glassy cupola to cover the ground with colorful reflected spots. Following the installation by Anish Kapoor in 2011, Monumenta 2012 invited famed French artist Daniel Buren for the fifth edition of the annual challenge to create an installation that will fill the soaring nave of Paris’ Grand Palais. Buren’s take on the site-specific concept is “Excentrique(s), travail in situ”.
True to its name, what Buren has created can best be described as eccentric—a rainbow forest of hundreds of transparent, sunshade-like plastic saucers planted on flagstaffs spreads over the entire area of the 13,500-square-meter space, playing with the light pouring into the huge, glassy cupola to cover the ground with colorful reflected spots.

Following the installation by Anish Kapoor in 2011, Monumenta 2012 invited famed French artist Daniel Buren for the fifth edition of the annual challenge to create an installation that will fill the soaring nave of Paris’ Grand Palais. Buren’s take on the site-specific concept is “Excentrique(s), travail in situ”.

True to its name, what Buren has created can best be described as eccentric—a rainbow forest of hundreds of transparent, sunshade-like plastic saucers planted on flagstaffs spreads over the entire area of the 13,500-square-meter space, playing with the light pouring into the huge, glassy cupola to cover the ground with colorful reflected spots.

The calico lobster known as Calvin is shown in this photo provided by Boston’s New England Aquarium. The lobster is dark with bright orange and yellow spots. The calico lobster known as Calvin is shown in this photo provided by Boston’s New England Aquarium. The lobster is dark with bright orange and yellow spots.

The calico lobster known as Calvin is shown in this photo provided by Boston’s New England Aquarium. The lobster is dark with bright orange and yellow spots.

The Southern Ocean (also known as the Great Southern Ocean, the Antarctic Ocean, and the South Polar Ocean) comprises the southernmost waters of the World Ocean, generally taken to be south of 60°S latitude and encircling Antarctica. It is usually regarded as the fourth-largest of the five principal oceanic divisions. This ocean zone is where cold, northward flowing waters from the Antarctic mix with warmer subantarctic waters.
Geographers disagree on the Southern Ocean’s northern boundary or even its existence, with many considering the waters part of the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Oceans instead. Others regard the Antarctic Convergence, an ocean zone which fluctuates seasonally, as separating the Southern Ocean from other oceans, rather than the 60th parallel.[1] Australian authorities regard the Southern Ocean as lying immediately south of Australia. The Southern Ocean (also known as the Great Southern Ocean, the Antarctic Ocean, and the South Polar Ocean) comprises the southernmost waters of the World Ocean, generally taken to be south of 60°S latitude and encircling Antarctica. It is usually regarded as the fourth-largest of the five principal oceanic divisions. This ocean zone is where cold, northward flowing waters from the Antarctic mix with warmer subantarctic waters.
Geographers disagree on the Southern Ocean’s northern boundary or even its existence, with many considering the waters part of the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Oceans instead. Others regard the Antarctic Convergence, an ocean zone which fluctuates seasonally, as separating the Southern Ocean from other oceans, rather than the 60th parallel.[1] Australian authorities regard the Southern Ocean as lying immediately south of Australia.

The Southern Ocean (also known as the Great Southern Ocean, the Antarctic Ocean, and the South Polar Ocean) comprises the southernmost waters of the World Ocean, generally taken to be south of 60°S latitude and encircling Antarctica. It is usually regarded as the fourth-largest of the five principal oceanic divisions. This ocean zone is where cold, northward flowing waters from the Antarctic mix with warmer subantarctic waters.

Geographers disagree on the Southern Ocean’s northern boundary or even its existence, with many considering the waters part of the Pacific, Atlantic, and Indian Oceans instead. Others regard the Antarctic Convergence, an ocean zone which fluctuates seasonally, as separating the Southern Ocean from other oceans, rather than the 60th parallel.[1] Australian authorities regard the Southern Ocean as lying immediately south of Australia.