K Street Sacramento, CA
2010
A two-part meditation on the "revitalized" K Street of Sacramento, California's capitol.
21 Days: To Fragment And Then To Rebuild Budapest, Hungary
2009
Residency @ Kitchen Budapest
For 21 days straight, I operated as a multi-webcam street photographer in Budapest during September-October 2009. Using still-captures from these multiple webcam fractured vantage points, all of the images were downsized to ultra-low pixel counts. On Day 1, each image was downsized to 1x3 pixels; Day 2 the image was downsized to 2x6 pixels, Day 5 became 5x15 pixels, and so on, until Day 21, when each image is 21 pixels in height (and about .001694 megapixels in total), and the original image reappears. The images are then upsized almost to the original resolution, to give "color-blocks".
An Installation for Budapest Design Week for the Open Studio at Design Day included: a quad-webcam T-Shirt-Laptop capturing a live feed of the viewer, a large print of all pixels (Day 1-18) (print shown above), a video installation showing the non-pixelated images, and a website.
Installation view
Production Vid
Days 1-21
Week 1 Untweaked
Parked It and Reversed It Davis, CA
2010
An exploration of post-athletic movement and the gamification of everyday industrial environments.
Jordan, Adhan Davis, CA
2010
Exploring the unexplorable: Where do Religion and Sports intersect? In short, they meet in the manifestations of ritual, meditation on repetition, and "higher purpose".
Untitled (Ocean) San Francisco, CA
2010
An oceanic semi-narrative emerges from splintered dialogue and fractional portraits.
Photog Istanbul, London, Bucharest, Berlin, and Northern California
2007-2009
A collection of 14 photographs, from vastly different geographically regions, times, and sentimental intents, gathered into an assemblage to create a loose semi-narrative.
Copper tree trunk rethink.
30 Chairs 30 Days Davis, CA
2008
Write up in California Aggie HERE
At it's root, the 30 Chairs 30 Days project was a simple project: in 2008 I sought to set aside one month where I would build one chair per day for 30 consecutive days, under the guise of Martino Gamper's briefly famous 100 Chairs 100 Days project.
The only guideline beyond that was that I would build using ONLY salvaged materials as a nod to maintaining an ecological practice but also as an experiment in recycling- both material and physical forms.
Juergen Teller vs Michel Gondry Davis, CA
2010
Jason Dunne
Michel Gondry
vs. Juergen Teller
Introduction
Michel Gondry (Filmmaker) and Juergen Teller (Fashion photographer) are two very different artists that exploded to fame in the 1990s and continue to work into the present. Their work relates on levels of Space, Celluloid, Influence, Self, Capitalism, Collaboration, (High) Art, Self-perception, and Objects.
Space
Gondry and Teller alike are interested in exploring uncomfortable transitional architectural spaces. Where they differ is in the imagery? goals. In the case of Teller he seeks to create awkward spaces that subvert the architect? intent and to explore the possibilities of new uses and understandings of spaces. We can find a prime example of Teller? disregard for standard mise-en-scene, in times that he wrecks the standard sense of a standard plane and sense of space. ?ow long could I make engaging pictures in this little space?(9) This is how Teller frames his idea behind the Go-Sees project, which documented hundreds of models that flocked to Teller? studio as Teller was being touted as the New Big Thing in the fashion world. Except rather than choosing to turn away hundreds of models, Teller decided to shoot each and every girl that came to him over the span of a year and in the process explored endless human interests and desires. He made a point of accommodating each model, sitting them down for coffee and learning their stories, but in the end one of the strangest components of the project is the interpretation of the space of his studio, as a place for voyeurism, power, and at other times a welcome gate. Most of the photos take place in the doorway, an awkward median zone where sharing a space is rare, taking photos rarer. As a result the viewer can explore the way that mobile automobiles shape our perception of repeated environments and the small circle of vision included within any given frame of an individual image.
Teller has a particular frame from the Marc Jacobs Fall 2009 campaign, a frame of Natasa Vojnovic close to falling out of the side of a brick building ( a ). This image addresses direct questions about architectural space - especially the everyday dangers of heightened spaces and possibilities for danger and suicide. Despite addressing suicidal tendencies, there is a playfulness, as the handbag that she is dangling out of the window brings the viewer back to a space of a fashion advertisement rather than reading it as reality. The off-kilter angle of the composition ramps up the feeling of action and immediacy. In reality the image was an accident and this shows with its freshness.
Teller is interested in questions of architectural diversions and uninhabitable spaces in his visual explorations of Nurnberg, near to his hometown in Germany, especially in his night shots of morose spaces which, on consideration of the historical German atrocities directed from the premises, gives a particularly foreboding atmosphere. As spaces these Nurnberg vignettes are just as morbid as Gondry? offbeat explorations of interstitial transitory regions where, as in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Jim Carrey? ?oelcharacter finds himself interfacing between a bookstore scene directly through a doorway into close friendstight living room. Here, Gondry is only a short trip away from Teller? specific techniques for subverting the common standards of mise-en-scene. The scene can be compared easily to a scene of Teller drunk with English actress Charlotte Rampling standing on a piano while holding a beer, due to the artistsshared misuse and recontextualization of the figures and how they interact with space. By drawing this comparison a common thread between Gondry and Teller is revealed, as we learn of their shared interest in non-linear mise-en-scene and transformations of non-standard spaces. In Gondry this is extended to an interest in toying with the viewer? sense of time (discussed below).
Gondry? most extreme playfulness with transformed spaces is in Chemical Brother? Let Forever Be. Here he employs further in-camera optic techniques (discussed below). Gondry chooses to tweak spaces by transitioning between shots which reflect two very different realities that appear to visually morph into one, typically one space consisting of many kaleidoscopic and mirror-like reflections and facets which trick the viewer into believing the image may have been produced in post-production. The space is transformed into a seemingly many-mirrored space, when in physical reality it is utilizing sculpted spaces for its own function.
?he suggestion of a dialectical interplay between the optical and the real is reinforced when we recall the explicit interplay between optically produced doubles an a real physical double in Norman Mclaren? Narcissus. Gondry? relation to McLaren? work is clear (and discussed later) but here we realize a direct connection in visual tools, where Gondry and McLaren confuses the viewer between post-production and live-action optical tricks.
Another common technique is Gondry? propensity for forced perspective rooms, his constructed sets which create variably-sized figures when viewed later two-dimensionally. This is also discussed below in the context of Gondry? few performances in his own work. Where Gondry swings away from Teller is in his theatricality and literal space transformations, whereas Teller toys with space only in a metaphorical or figurative sense- his subjects have free reign over the mise-en-scene and plane of space which opens up standard-issue room-spaces for new interpretations. Teller and Gondry alike are at their most experimental when considering the ramifications of spatial constructions and deconstructions.
Celluloid - Cinematographic/Photographic Systems
In an interview with New York Times fashion columnist Cathy Horyn, Teller said of large-format photography, ?t all looked like photography and I didn? like itit looked like a photograph, and 35mm for me is something different, it comes out of life.(9) Teller has an almost religious commitment to his late 90s era Contax G2 camera, arguably the most advanced (albeit quirky) 35mm still camera, one of the last innovations in camera equipment before digital came to dominate professional photography by the early-mid 2000s.
While Teller and Gondry both work primarily on film, the two artists surely depart in technique because of Teller? Germanic brutality and honesty in his working process. He refuses to utilize any visual effects gimmicks in his work, even in-camera or in-darkroom. Teller spends countless hours in the darkroom ensuring his images are developed, processed, and printed exactly to his specifications. Teller has briefly considered switching to digital because of the intensity of the process but he continues to shoot film out of a hard-fast commitment to his highly regularized practice. He speaks of knowing every single idiosyncrasy of his camera and his process, to the degree that someone else could take the photo for him and he would still know instantly if the shot was spot-on.
Teller is mistakenly thought to be an on-camera flash photographer. While this is mostly true- though he has done shots with Bjork and for Marc Jacobs in-studio and with full lighting kits quite removed from this technique (sometimes out of necessity and sometimes out of an interest in further creative freedoms)- it is a common misconception that Teller? photographs owe their nature to his ?oint and shoottechnique. In reality, he abhors the term ?oint and shootand Teller? portraits are so engaging because of Teller? ability to activate his subjects. ?t is a frequently repeated comment that his work is the standard bearer for the ?napshotand ?rungestyle of photography, a categorization that is a misunderstanding of technique over content. Teller does not employ a casual, opportunistic approach with documentary intention. Instead he creates a highly individual, even weird, view in the telling of personal stories, using his process of looking to fathom what truths might lie beneath the surface,says Sadie Coles Nurnberg (11). Like Teller, Gondry has a kind of resistance to labels despite media? countless attempts to attach them to specific genres.
Gondry has a keen interest in creating innovative images without turning to digital, or even analog, post-production to create the odd spaces and scenes. This is particularly true of Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind but true for countless others of his films and videos.. He chooses to use only minimal post-production editing effects but for the most part the tricks are done ?ive In this way Gondry and Teller alike share a kind of freedom to make the image right from the start, mostly due to their familiarity and understanding of their production tools.
Gondry? cameramen said that during production of Eternal Sunshine, the crew ?really couldn? keep track of what was going on and at that point said to him, ?f its working for you than its working for us because we really don? get what? going on.? Gondry relies on a some minimal computer graphics for specific scenes that cannot be done in-camera because the imagery is so extreme. Jim Carrey said in an interview, ?e makes it all happen in the camera. There? no special effects; it? all done right in front of the camera.(1)
Gondry uses physical tools, which derives from a sculptural way of thinking. In the ?aratogascene of Eternal Sunshine, storefront signs slowly dissolve away and gradually blank out; almost any filmmaker would choose to make this change in post, but Gondry instead chooses to have the art department assemble masks for each sign with varying degrees of the blurring effect. The result is that Gondry? image is lent a kind of robustness and honesty.
Gondry can and does work digitally on video, espousing the immediacy and lack of gravitas to the medium rather than the comparatively laborious process of shooting conventionally on film. Countless of his music videos are shot on video, but his short digital film Pecan Pie (shot with Jim Carrey as a diversion from Eternal Sunshine), a small vignette of a nonsequitir, that in so many ways could only have been shot on video for its freshness and cheapness, serves as a lighthearted jab at the severity of cinema (and its strong association to celluloid).
Outside influence
Gondry recognizes Norman Mclaren as a key influence on his work. In the opening credits of Science of Sleep Gondry clearly integrates a Mclaren aesthetic, by using a Spin art technique which yields a Pollock-like Chance Operation apparatus contrasted against a very designed system which is cinematic by its interest in structure.
This interest in ?ureforms and historical painting references bears no relation to Teller? non-abstract, hyper-figurative practice. Teller in most ways keeps a strict commitment to the conventions of photography - when Teller is in the darkroom he is trying to create the best possible technical photograph (though this is not necessarily a primary concern while shooting) - and therefore abstraction and physical manipulations of the film itself or even the image while shooting takes a true backseat to the representation and the concepts behind the image.
In Daft Punk? Around the World, Gondry? music video embraces Mclaren? fascination with color and abstract shapes, which for him yields a playfulness and lack of severity. Arguably it is this playfulness that makes it difficult to rediscover new meanings within his work when compared to Teller? imagery which seems to amass new understandings with each viewing.
One of Teller? key influences - highly prolific Japanese artist Noboyushi Araki a shared influence with Bjork- bears almost no relation to Mclaren? work, as Mclaren? interests in the physicality and the ability to manipulate film is in high contrast to Araki? interest in turning out countless photos with almost a reckless disregard for the amount of film being shot. A key perspective shared by Araki and Teller both is an attitude that almost anything is worth photographing. In Araki? words, ?here? nothing that is difficult for me to photograph. Everything is attractive. For example women,even if they are ugly, they are attractive for me.(18). Teller, as if adopting directly Araki? thoughts on ?ifficulty of photography talked about his disinterest in aesthetics in a coming shoot with Pamela Anderson. When Anderson asked him to shoot at her home, he did not give any consideration to lighting, mise-en-scene, et al, but rather excepted the offer on the spot and flew out the following day.
Teller lists countless fashion photographers which came to influence his work when he first transitioned into fashion photography out of music photography. Arnold Newman, Irving Penn, Lee Friedlander, Peter Lindbergh, the list is long. However, with the financial freedoms afforded by many years working for top clients, he has shifted his focus more towards personal projects. As a result many of his interests in other artist? work comes from fine artists working on their own accord such as Araki.
Imagined re-inventions of self
? couldn? have pulled that one off without me being in it(9) These are Teller? words on his collaborative book with Cindy Sherman. It is out of necessity that he uses himself because he felt that was the only way to integrate his thoughts and ideas. Defending this creative choice, he says it is ?ot out of vanity.(This is proven on countless occasions when he shoots unflattering and blunt self portraits, such as images of himself drinking beer, naked with a soccer ball, pissing on his father? graveclearly ?ot out of vanity. In a reply to his integration of self into his Cindy Sherman work and how this might integrate into a photographic history of portraiture and use of the photographer? self, he replies, ?very photographer is in their work even if they?e not physically in it. In this way, Teller disregards the Sherman photos in which he includes himself as just one in a long series of his works which integrate his persona, because of his invariable intimacy to the subject. Somehow in the process of discussion he discounts the collaborative photos he did with Sherman more as self-portraiture than a creation of characters a la Sherman. This is where Teller dissociates completely from his younger peer Terry Richardson, who Teller considers to have ?tolenhis fast and reckless shooting style. Specifically, Richardson chooses to exploit his position of power as a noted fashion photographer to exploit the subject sexually, given an interpretation of taking a photograph as a sexual act but also through countless model? ongoing complaints of sexual harassment, citing Richardson? careless lack of concern for the model? desires.
Gondry develops a clear interest in awkward ?oreignprotagonists in each of his feature films - in Human Nature, a primitive forest-raised human-ape is retrained to integrate into society, in Eternal Sunshine, Joel relates to Clementine for their mutual inability to properly communicate their feelings to others, and in Science of Sleep, Stephane is a Mexican in France with little ability to judge potential lover Stephanie? feelings for him. In Gondry? most recent - Be Kind Rewind - the protagonist is a straight shooter but his cohort (played by Jack Black) is forced to reconcile his own social limitations and past (physically clumsy) mistakes. Gondry? own performances stand out for their own breed of awkwardness, but also for their sparseness, since his performances are so few. A demonstration of his forced-perspective room in Eternal Sunshine, for example, yields a curt, almost abruptly so, performance from Gondry with marginal explorations of the repercussions of being on video, despite knowing the footage would likely end up in the bonus material. Gondry does appear in one of his music videos, but otherwise the only video where he is considered his own protagonist is in Drum and Drummer, a non-speaking role where Gondry has a highly comical professionalism while he plays drums in a dry and slightly depleted way familiar to any fans of his drumming in Oui Oui (the band that first launched Gondry into fame). Gondry? characters in his films are a reflection of Gondry? own rare on-screen persona.
Commercialism // embracing capitalism
? feel comfortable making my living with commercial assignments. It? an agreement which I find quite honest. I help them to sell their product or their record. And if they like my work, and I like their music, or whatever, it? nice to do it. And I get some decent, honest money for it, that? all right too.(8) There is a tempting simplicity to Teller? viewpoint about his advertising projects for highly financially successful brands such as Marc Jacobs, Vivienne Westwood, Commes des Garcones, highly profitable magazines like i-D and Purple, and countless major label musicians, but his perspective raises questions about his credibility to take any critical stance on capitalism, which is exactly what he did for his commissioned Ukraine project for Venice Biennale. In 2007, Teller was asked to document the state of Ukrainian affairs, inevitably leading him to questions of a new age of consumerism in Eastern Europe after the fall of communism. While he seeks to reveal the outrageous inequalities of the upper echelon high-society members of Ukraine which will happily pony up for elitist Capitalist symbols of highest society in half-million dollar Rolls Royces and the everyday people suffering the repercussions of social repression over decades, his credibility and position is compromised by his own complete comfort with the capitalist status quo. His perspective on Ukraine is exemplified in an iconic image of a nude model with the world? most expensive handbag (90,000 or $125,000 thrown over her head as a make-shift mask fittingly contrasted against a working-class boy in the background holding a ball. Juergen says later that he? simply asking, ?here the fuck is the Ukraine going?(9). Does Teller have the right to call out Ukraine for lusting for the upper-upper-class Londoner? lifestyle that he himself lives day after day? The answer is a likely no, but Teller inadvertently raises the true questions of post-communist Eastern Europe and its new relationship to capitalism and also the dilemmas of a Western Europe? challenges in Eastern European analysis.
By contrast, Gondry? openness to corporate funds is less complicated; he never seeks to critique the capitalist system and so is scot-free in his work for countless financial powerhouses, be they producing his work as in Universal, Warner Brothers, et al. or in his award-winning advertisements for mainstream brands like Levi?, Smirnoff, Air France, Polaroid, HP, to name only a few. It can also be said that Teller has built a close working relationship to Marc Jacobs and a few brands, while Gondry has a free-wheeling promiscuity with countless brands willing to fund his work.
Collaborations
Cindy Sherman : ?Marc Jacobs] said, ?hat about Cindy Sherman?and I was like not even thinking about it I said, ?f course. I?e got to do that. But then I put the phone and I said, ?hat the fuck am I going to do now?? Sherman? collaboration with Teller, discussed earlier, was a seamless relation that only shows Teller ability to integrate countless working styles into his practice.
As a director, Gondry works with hundreds of artists on each film. Musically he has formed a relationship with Jon Brion who shapes the soundscape so effectively that it can sometimes dominate the filmstone. Similarly he has worked extensively with sculptor Lauri Faggioni to extensively shape the animations in Science of Sleep. This is a natural decision as a director to depend on many individuals with highly specialized skillsets.
Because of Teller? ?efusal to separate his personal work form his commercial work he inevitably integrates his own family into many of the projects he is working on. Typically this is not true of his fashion projects but many of his book projects utilize imagery of his family and images exploring the notion of domesticity. Most exemplary is Ed in Japan (discussed above) which explores a trip through Japan as it relates to his child.
Bjork, as the universal muse of countless artists of her generation, has especially had an impact on the work of both Teller and Gondry. In some ways, this is their strongest uniting factor. Gondry and Teller alike collaborated to help espouse Bjork? musical talents and star status in both pop culture and the art world. In Teller? case , he has shot and continues to shoot countless images of Bjork which have gone onto become one and one symbols for Bjork? identity, since Teller specializes in capturing the true character of people rather than a theatrical replica. In the Bjork photo (b) we do see a heightened sense of theater and a studio setting, but a majority of Teller? images of Bjork show a surprising unpretentious and unguarded side of Bjork- what sets them apart is not her vulnerability - as Bjork is open to interviewers - but the fact that the exhibitionist and the actress in Bjork is considerably toned down in the set of images spanning a whole decade to date.
Bjork? collaborations with Gondry, by comparison, are exponentially more prolific than even Teller? substantial body of work on Bjork. Specifically, Gondry has directed several dozen of Bjork? videos, and completely unlike Teller, Gondry captures a different Bjork in each music video, as Bjork experiments every music video she does with Gondry or otherwise, tirelessly looking for new roles and new characters that she can invent. Gondry does seem to translate specific components of Bjork? work - especially its imagination, openness and excitement about new technologies as tools for creating new art, and finally her explicit requirement that no matter how dark of an abyss her music dives in, she must always leave the viewer and listener uplifted and energized.
Both Teller and Gondry have worked with Sinead O?onnor, although neither of these collaborations particularly represents either artist? most innovative or captivating work. Perhaps this can be attributed to O?onnors inability to transcend the past two decades as Bjork has.
Art
Simply put, Gondry and Teller have earned art-star status in addition to pop-culture star-status, and have found themselves represented by top galleries in New York. Teller - represented by Lehmann-Maupin has found his photo work escalated from tear sheets to art books, and now is being shown in top-notch galleries in one-man shows, proving that Teller really has no need to distinguish between commerce and art, personal wor and hired gun. Gondry, on the other hand has now shown work from both Science of Sleep and Be Kind Rewind at the Deitch Gallery, a prestigious claim, though some critics have doubted the relevance of the objects and ideas of his films translated to the white box gallery space.
Self-perception / Self-analysis
Gondry: ?y trick is I have no confidence at all. I always assume it will be a disaster. This lack of confidence pops up constantly in interviews, where he often lapses into pessimistic language. He says things like, ? would never think it would be possible until nowin regards to his early thoughts on doing a feature film, or ? did this big reading with all the actors at the table, and it was very depressing, because some it sounded very corny a lot of the time. It was really scary.(6) He is not afraid of admitting to his own insecurities, but in reality, Gondry takes on a visible swagger while on set of any of his movies. There is a visual transformation from his interview persona to his working persona, where some crew notes his masterful control of the scene and also occasional tantrums.
Teller has admitted on many occasions to his early shyness with models, surprising news on consideration of the Go-Sees project, wherein he interacted day in day out with beautiful models coming to his door. Considering Teller? lack of confidence in his social abilities with models, the mechanism of the fashion world is revealed, as we witness the way in which the fashion world makes specific decisions about outside the control of the star (ie we can assess Teller as not so much fighting his way to the top, as being thrust to the top by the powers that be like i-D and Purple Magazine among countless fashion-house institutions that put their trust in his work.)
Gondry is described by sculptor-collaborator Lauri Faggioni as having a Navet upon assessment of his often playful and sometimes childish imagery from films. This contrasts greatly with Teller? jaded perspective that most fashion photography is uninspired, and his sometimes dark imagery particularly as related to his reconciliation of his German history, an exploration familiar to many contemporary Germans. Specifically, his Nurnberg project was interested in discussing the ideas of rejuvenation and recycling of life, a possibility for new perceptions of Germans with a keen awareness of their past.
Sculpture // objects
Teller typically is infatuated less with ?bjectsand more interested in identification with people. In fact, Teller in some ways takes an anti-aesthetic point of view which translates into a disregard for lighting techniques, environmental context, and mise-en-scene, since his direct interest is in the subjects he photographs. There are only a few exceptions in his work- In Ed in Japan, Teller takes an interest in his Japanese surroundings, but only insofar as it directs the viewer to his child ?d In other words, what few images of Tokyo landscapes are included can be seen as images with a kind of perspective from Ed, shaping his experiences and his surroundings. Additionally there is a decidedly ethereal nature to these images since they seem more atmospheric and there is a vagueness, as the subject is essentially the raindrops and descending snow from the sky, caught in the flash to create exciting spatial, but almost abstract interactions between snowflakes.
Conclusion
Put simply, Gondry and Teller interact on many levels and a lot of these relationships develop around their shared timeline. Their interactions stem from related interests in Space, Celluloid, Influence, Self, Capitalism, Collaboration, (High) Art, Self-perception, and Objects.
Bjork
Natasa Vojnovic
LINK
Ukraine
PHOTO LINK
Also for completeness sake:
Go-Sees:
Some samples of Go-Sees
LINK
Nurnberg
Eames House vs Schroder House
2011
Homes for Living In: The Eames House and the Schroder House
Jason Dunne
December 2nd, 2008
###Revised February 27, 2011###
If architectural theorist Hilde Heynen believes in Martin Heidegger's words that “only if we are capable of dwelling, only then can we build.” then faith can be restored in Modernism on the basis of three names: Charles and Ray Eames, and Gerrit Rietveld. Together, decades and half a world apart, they fostered a kind of warm Modernism, where the cold, stark, and avant traits of Modernism are maintained, but a huge degree of real-life livability is added. The architects' respective best architectural moments came in the form of the Eames House, which the architects themselves would inhabit, and the Schroder House, to which Rietveld would maintain an intimate relationship for years after the building was completed. What appear to be only superficially related homes sharing a color scheme of red, yellow, and blue, reveal themselves to be linked on levels far deeper than the color of their paint.
The Eameses and Rietveld each had strikingly similar career moves leading into their respective architectural statements. Commonly, both began with a very strong background in furniture design and only a minor connection to architecture. In the case of Charles Eames, he had studied Architecture at Washington University for only a short period before leaving for Cranbrook Academy of Art, whereas Rietveld chose to study under the architect P. J. C. Klaarhamer, while designing and building his own furniture. Where the two teams differed was in their process and preference for building. The Eameses, strong proponents and champions of the precise, mass-produced, everyday furniture aesthetic, sent off their drawings to the factory knowing that thousands and thousands of their designs would be produced. This mass production aesthetic carried over very clearly into the Eames house, which is commonly lauded as erected in one and a half days. This much publicized hyper-fast building process is of course not representative of the length of the whole process, but contrasts heavily with an unfortunate and largely overstated stereotype of Rietveld as the simple unschooled craftsman. While this “craftsman” title is based in the reality that Rietveld worked very much with his hands and much preferred working models to technical drawings, the reality is that Rietveld was simultaneously a thoughtful and purposeful builder, even if his main bent was not theory-based. So while Rietveld and the Eameses each shared a strong furniture history, their processes were immensely different.
Yet another striking similarity between the two houses presents itself immediately: the liberal but exact usage of the primary colors. In the case of the Eames house, the paint was applied brashly and quickly, a cheap blend bought from Sears and intended to be rethought and reblended after its first application. The reality was that the Eameses loved the color right from the start, enough to keep the first coat that was applied. This added to the building's personality as mass-produced, standardized, and not overthought, although in reality the Eameses engrossed themselves deeply in tiny details, in a direct nod to Mies van der Rohe's phrase “God is in the details”. We know that in fact none of the Eameses' projects were completed haphazardly. Their famous Mathematica: A World of Numbers and beyond... 1961 Los Angeles exhibit, one example of many, included details requiring highly intellectual and time-consuming thought, far outside the realm of art and design, in order to complete properly. The Schroder House's use of the primary colors is similar to the Eames House in its desire to reduce the home down to the three most basic colors plus black, grey, and white. Of course, this reduction to the most essential of colors is a quintessentially Minimalist and Modernist choice for the architects. This choice of colors is also a primary and superficial reason that the houses are considered Mondrianesque, one of many characteristics that ties the two homes to the De Stijl painter's work. And Although Rietveld claimed to have never met Mondrian, Theo Von Doesburg, editor of De Stijl magazine and the primary promoter of the De Stijl Movement, placed the two artists under the same ideology through his theorizing and publishing.
Suggestions that Mondrian's work has close ties and influences on Modern architecture show themselves most obviously at the Schroder house. As Mondrian abstracts painting down to the absolute bare essentials of line and color, Rietveld pares down the house down to a geometric abstraction of itself. As Mondrian precisely frames his views with black grid lines and composes the canvas with utmost precision, Rietveld frames the inhabitants view of the outdoors and directs the viewer's eye as if in a film. As Mondrian creates planes of color and then lets them drift off the canvas to create a feeling of space beyond, Rietveld abstracts walls to planes of color, none of which intersect at the corners as in “traditional” Modernist buildings, but overrun the corners and invent a new sense of space, where the wall seems to break out of the conventions of rigid geometry. The De Stijl movement owes a great debt to the Schroder House, as it is perhaps the only built architectural statement that fully encompassed the ideals of the movement. Therefore, the De Stijl movement may have been a minor footnote in aesthetic history if not for the fame of Rietveld's first major architectural work.
The two homes appear to diverge paths when it comes to the economic, social-political, and environmental climate under which the buildings were designed and built. Of course, the comparison of the 1924 Northern European Schroder House to 1949 Southern Californian Eames House initially appears a dissonant one. For example, there is a strong disassociation of these two time periods and global locations; Whereas Rietveld built under a rough-and-tumble European Economy in the early-mid 1920's following World War I, the Eameses designed just after World War II in 1949 Southern California, in a period of immense urban growth and extreme economic growth for the United States. However, similarities quickly begin to emerge, as in the example that the timing of the Schroder House coincided with the increasing influence of the De Stijl movement, particularly as a published magazine with seven years behind it, just as the Eameses coincidentally collided with the mainstreaming of Modernism in the United States and the rest of the world. Namely, the Eameses had already been producing their ubiquitous LCW (Lounge Chair Wood) molded plywood chair for four years, and and America was beginning to look decidedly Modern, and optimistic about the Movement’s future in the States.
A key advantage that the Eameses held over Rietveld in the design process was weather. Knowing that dwelling in Souther California's brings a very temperate and reasonably predictable set of weather patterns, they were afforded the option of absolute reduction- when seventy degrees is the dependable norm, an architect is free to build walls a virtually zero thickness, so long as they block the outside air. The Eameses took full advantage of this fact by slimming down the panels to their maximum Minimalist capability. A rugged northern climate, on the other hand, forced Rietveld to recognize the dangers of lots of precipitation, freezing temperatures in winter, and, worse yet, snow. This clearly was a factor in the massing of the building; while the walls have a youthful energy and a seeming defiance of gravity, they also are not the high-tech hyper-slim panels that California architects were free to use in a predictably warm climate. Despite the climate's influences on Rietveld, he does not seem to make any compromises in terms of massing and aesthetics in the name of function; it could be said that this is a large part of why the Schroder house transcends its Netherlands region to become a truly global house.
The design climate of the two homes was in fact quite different. The Eames's Post-World War II Los Angeles had almost no historic reference points, as the city was only in its infancy. It was only interested in the future and had no past to fall back on. For example, it was only about twenty years earlier that Los Angeles Metropolitan District had any significant water supply, sourcing from the Owens Valley via the LA Aqueduct into the desert land that is LA Proper. Land was cheap and expansive in this period. A general feeling of openness coincided with the liberal American tradition of moving West: and this was as far West as Manifest Destiny could go short of Hawaii. At the polar opposite, Netherlands in the 1920's had a long tradition to fall back on; one need not look further than the backside of the Schroder house to see the historic convention of brick housing with steeply raked roofs in the Netherlands as the norm for housing. Opposing Los Angeles' openness is the political corner that the Netherlands was forced into; having remained neutral during World War I, the country was legally forced to remain insular, with visas going in and out of the country severely restricted. This explains De Stijl's strict exclusion of other country's artists. This contrast is immense; Where the Eames House is surrounded by no history, and its context is Eucalyptus trees and freeways, the Schroder House is actually connected to the past physically and historically. After Ms. Schroder's death, a passageway was even opened up into the hallway of the traditional housing behind. So the respective homes vary significantly in urban context and historical context.
The context and siting of the homes have both had some surprising changes over their lifespan. The Eames House was built very purposefully amongst Eucalyptus trees on its site in the Pacific Palisades with several other Case Study Houses. This tied into the Modernist ideal of an exchange between inside and outside, nature and culture. Charles and Ray Eames framed the view of the trees for themselves by placing large panels of windows some places and steel paneling elsewhere. Given this expanse of glass, the privacy of the inhabitants was fairly minimal, especially considering the fame the house had attained due to the residents and association with the Case Study programs. Fairly predictably, however, the Eucalyptus trees have overgrown the site in the sixty years since the home was built. The result is an increase in nature, and therefore the ratio of nature to culture has, counterintuitively, increased, in a city where urban and suburban sprawl is infamously destroying the natural environment. This is in unexpected opposition to the Schroder House; in its youth the building was blocked on one side by housing but fully surrounded by a beautiful meadow and various trees. Raised roadways have since been built, making for a domination of technology over nature, and perhaps a less pure fulfillment of Rietveld's wishes for the building's context. With this unplanned addition to the landscape, Rietveld's sheer panes of glass now open up not to frame a green landscape but rather buses and trucks rushing by at high speeds. This transformation favorably suits Modernism's desire for unlimited transportation, fast pace, and faith in technology, but breaks Modernist architecture's tendency towards an interplay of abstract geometry and organic greenery. That the Eameses were flooded with trees while Schroder wound up with cars on her balcony runs backwards to the respective residents' transportation preferences. While “Mrs. Schroder never owned a car”, the Eameses depended immensely on their automobiles as typical LA residents. A famous image of a truck transporting and properly placing steel girders for the house during “assembly” of the Eames House cements the image of the automobile in relationship to Eames architectural decisions.
While both Charles Eames and Gerrit Rietveld utilized a steel structure and large panels of glass, they had different ideologies behind their building practices. Most importantly, Charles and Ray Eames carried over from their highly mass-produced designs for molded-plywood splints for injured soldiers in World War II and then the LCW chair a desire for repeatability, predictability, and quick assembly. The logical conclusion of these ideals is pre-fabricated housing, or “pre-fab”, an idea that the Eameses meant to utilize in their home and would-be future architectural projects. Pre-fab housing seeks to standardize the components of a home, so that the house can be ordered from a catalog just as one would order a stove or a chair or an automobile, ready-made from the factory. On the contrary, Rietveld carried over from his craftsman-oriented and hand-made attitude in furniture a want for individuality, or, in other words a house that most likely could not be replicated. The Schroder house can be considered a success in this regard, as any building that would try to replicate it would appear an outright copycat rather than appearing as an innovative structure. Another component of the individuality of the house is that Rietveld had constant conversations with Mrs. Schroder about how she wanted to live in the space. Because of this Rietveld could perfectly synchronize the desires of the resident with the aesthetic details of the house.
In absolute common, the Utrecht house and Pacific Palisades house maintain the most basic principles of Modernism; abstraction of the home's form to simplified geometry, clean stark lines, removal of color (manifesting as reduction of colors to the red, yellow, and blue), interplay of nature and technology, indoors and outdoors. The list continues: an open plan, an organic plan with all encompassing design, where each chair is not only placed deliberately but also designed by the architect himself. Materials are honest to an extreme. Asymmetry. All of these traits are shared by the two distinctly Modern homes. In fact, these two homes carry such a crucial role in Modernism's history that they have defined these characteristics with hyper-clarity. Most strikingly, Eames and Rietveld do not fail in the way that Mies van der Rohe or Le Corbusier fail; they successfully combine stark Modernism with a friendly, usable space that does not send the inhabitant over the edge; it succeeds at creating a livable space. This is the optimistic Modernism that has architects still designing in the aesthetic of the Modern Movement many decades later; a Modernism that sets out to upturn traditional bourgeoisie traditions and suffocating lifestyles of the post-industrial suburbia. Both architects successfully take Modernism, with its imposing standards, reduced privacy, seemingly dehumanized and delocalized idealism and transform it into space that not only keeps the resident happy but simultaneously does not soften up aesthetically.
That the Case Study Number 8 House was built over two decades after the Utrecht house makes a world of difference. Though Mies had only begun plans for the Farnsworth house in 1949, a house that reduced architecture to a possibly irreducible state, the Eameses had an entire playbook of European Modernism from which to draw influence. And so one can see Le Corbusier's Villa Savoye in the framing of the natural surroundings, creating an image out of the window panel. This composition of a image draws from Charles Eames's infatuation with photography from his youth, an obsession that never drew to a close. Charles would later place an image of a tree to cover one window pane of the house, indicating that the windows are meant to be read as individual photographs. Mies' Barcelona Pavilion manifests in the Eames House's attention to detail, in its use of technology to reduce and remove, and its romance with glass. Frank Lloyd Wright's Fallingwater is visible in the Eames House's integration with the landscape. The Eameses, conscious of their place in the history of Modernism, must reference the fathers of Modernism, be it hyper-purposeful or obliquely and subconsciously. And so, while never explicitly stated, the Eameses cannot ignore the Schroder house in the Modernist timeline leading up to their home. All the aforementioned similarities return; the primary colors, the hyper-abstraction, the technology, the nature, the permission for the residents to really live in the space, permission to be messy and rearrange the partitions as needed. The many relationships the two homes have make for a clear brotherhood.
On examining the plans of the homes, an insistence on openness comes forward. Automatically, the Schroder's house openness is identified by the dualities of spaces, as four of the rooms specifically are titled with ambiguous titles like “kitchen-dining-living” indicating that the architect has no intention of dictating the resident's use of the space. This freeform format is especially present in the second floor, where most spaces are left open-ended between working, sleeping, and eating. Due to this open plan, Mrs. Schroder was free to slide the partitions open and shut as needed, to create specific spaces for specific scenarios. For example, after the children grew up, she found that she had more open space and more freedom to give herself space to “live”. In this second revolution of the house, she found that she preferred the partitions open in the daytime and closed at night, most likely for a sense of security while sleeping. While the Eames house appears predetermined and compartmentalized in the plan drawings, the simple realization that the four largest spaces are “living room”, “upper part of living room”, “studio”, and “upper part of studio” shows that a huge portion of the home was devoted to “living” space, which for the Eameses translated into plenty of space for a cacophony of objects (seemingly) strewn about haphazardly. As in the Schroeder house, a sizable portion of the walls were also movable partitions, contributing further to a sensation of freeness.
Significantly, the Eames House is split up into two separate buildings, one space for “studio” or “work” and one space for “living” or “play”. However, the Eameses appeared to live a life that broke down the barriers of work and play and so therefore the spaces spilled out over onto one another. Finally, their various art, design, and craft objects became too many and they were forced to move their working studio off site to a similar space, overtaking what used to be the Herman Miller office space. In an odd shared trait, Garret Reitveld, in fact used the bottom floor studio space of the Schroder House for his own work. So while the Schroder house had one less structure, it similarly maintained one space for work and one space for living. These two houses, in turn, anticipate the New York loft scene several decades early, in which gritty cement warehouse spaces become suitable as both a work and living situation for artists.
As the similarities seem to multiply with more and more research into the respective homes, a clear pattern emerges for the model house, the ideal Modernist home. While over the decades a few architects have blended a warm livability and openness with the cold art-centric side of Modernist architecture, very few others succeeded with such crucial timing as Gerrit Rietveld and Charles and Ray Eames, who finished building their architectural spaces at the peak of their respective Movements. In releasing during a time of optimism for both De Stijl and America's Modern Movement, they captured the wants and desires of countless other architect's desires for the time, to please their clients, but also to please the fickle world of art and aesthetics as well.
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