Andrew Saladino aka The Royal Ocean Film Society über die fliegenden Schiffe in den Filmen von Studio Ghibli und die Wunder der Luftfahrt in den Filmen von Hayao Miyazaki.
Ich habe mal eine Luftturbulenz in den Wolken beobachtet, die dürfte zwischen 1 und 10 Meter groß gewesen sein, das ist über den Wolken schlecht einzuschätzen. Die Turbulenz kreiste um ihre Mitte in symmetrisch angeordneten Miniatur-Wirbeln und diese formten ein sich drehendes Gebilde wie Nebel-Derwische in einem sich drehenden Kronleuchter aus Luftwasser. Will sagen, ich versteh’ Herrn Myazaki sehr gut und finde Luftschiffe toll.
The judges ruled it “beyond the expressed purpose of the competition” but noted that “it is quite possible that in the future some of the features considered objectionable today will prove entirely practical.”
This is one of the many small articles that appear in major sci/tech/engineering journals in the 19th century that are absolutely so filled with human spirit that it fills your heart with hope for humanity (even if everyone involved has been dead for at least 125 years. This one is a ravishingly simple three-page report on how to move a (substantial) brick house with a few guys and a horse. The title of this post is taken from the report1, where (I feel) the writer just took a step back from his work and said “holy ____!”, and admired the sheer beauty of the simple and successful approach to a major task. And as it turned out, the house was all of 1/4″ from where it should have been, and that was quickly rectified with a screw jack.
By the time world-famous Italian astronomer and mathematician Giovanni Antonio Amedeo Plana published his book theorizing the motions of the Moon on 1832, he had already begun constructing his Perpetual Calendar: an amazing mechanical device that allows anyone to easily discover details about any date between years 1 and 4000.
Plana’s Perpetual Calendar is discreetly hanging on the sacristy of the small Chapel of Merchants and Bankers in Turin, Italy. It operates by turning a wooden handle below the calendar’s adorned golden frame.
Inside, vintage machinery cranks into motion: nine carefully inscribed cylinders begin to roll simultaneously via gears and toothed chains. Tiny windows within the elaborate display transmit information about the phases of the Moon, solar cycles, tides, moveable Catholic holidays (such as Easter or Carnival), and also the day of the week for any given date across 40 centuries. It accounts for the shift from the Julian to Gregorian calendar, leap years, and more.
Monochrome vintage photos of early NASA facilities including wind tunnels that assisted in making space flight possible to analog machines that were the forerunners to the present computer. A visual history of this innovative industry is depicted here.
DENVER — Tara Donovan’s artworks are unexpected: they borrow manufactured goods, but they are never readymades; they are theatrical and serial, but rarely considered minimalist; and they are massive in scale, but never outsourced. Fieldwork at the MCA Denver revisits Donovan’s contributions from the last 20 years, bringing her wall-based and free-standing sculptures together under one roof for the first time. Her art is not a metaphor, it is not about identity, and it is not historical. So what is it?
For many years car manufacturers hired illustrators to paint photo-realistic pictures of cars in brilliant, eye-catching colors.
by the famous team of Van Kaufman and Art Fitzpatrick
These pictures were designed to radiate power. Their perspective was deliberately distorted and the cars were stretched to make the cars appear more muscular. The colors were enhanced to shine like the sun. The chrome was intensified. These ads, which typically employed little text or white space, were masterpieces of propagandistic art.
But when cars were first invented, illustrators didn’t have such tools. They had no access to sharp, accurate color printing, photo projection or some of the other devices crucial to later car illustrations. They painted small, black and white pictures for text-heavy ads reproduced on inferior, uncoated paper. These limits called for a different aesthetic but the illustrators made it work. Here is an ad campaign for Packard from the early 20s:
Rather than show a photographic full view of the car, these artists selected an important detail– a front grill or a tire or a silhouette– to imply power and class. Without a full color palette they used the advantage of black and white art: strong compositions. Here are other illustrations from the same series.
There was one painting for each new ad. They were done by different talented illustrators (such as the great Andrew Loomis) but in a similar style.
What interests me is how, even without the tools that later illustrators employed to convey horsepower, these illustrations still conveyed their own strength. There is a strength that radiates from selectivity, from strong compositions, from opinionated designs.
Vaka Valo has just unleashed new works in his “Dream Diary” series, and for the first time he is making prints available. Sign up for notice of the very limited-edition prints here.
Previously: Vaka Valo on 50watts.
A note about the series: “All of my works involve chance, contextual change, and strict limitations. For this project, the pieces begin as tiny collages from old instructional manuals I have meticulously mined. After sorting through thousands of images, I scan the hundreds of individual components, then create the collages digitally, revamping the colors completely, then have the compositions digitally printed and stretched onto canvas VERY large (adding a few more touch-ups by hand), as the dot gain patterns in the colors are clearly discernible upon viewing. There is only a single tangible canvas for each composition.” (more…)
August 1940. Carbon County, Pennsylvania. “Street in Upper Mauch Chunk, a small historic coal mining town in the Lehigh Valley.” Medium format negative by Jack Delano for the Farm Security Administration. View full size.