I love the graphic design on this (alternate? fan made?) poster for Turning Red!
The post by Pixar says it was a poster inspired by Turning Red, but the the artist posted it after Pixar did noting they got to make an official poster. I’m guessing they were inspired, sent it to Pixar, who also loved it and released it on their official account, and it’s the best of all worlds kind of story. No matter what, it’s a great poster!
Art by Juan Useche
“Individual notes start to decay the moment they are born.
No note can escape this fate.
But together they work toward a crescendo that cannot exist in any one note alone.”
— Vihart
(Another wonderful, poetic, and philosophy-filled observation that becomes introspection that becomes inspiration, by the amazing Vihart. Taken from an equally amazing video about Pi and music and more, which can be found here — check it out, it includes a musical challenge!)
I do so much like a great gothic cathedral in all its carved glory. And I really want to visit Gaudi’s stone forest of awe. But I’m also really keen on this restoration of a church first erected in 1314. To say it’s on the opposite end of the gothic/carved spectrum would be an understatement… smooth, serene, and silky white, it’s a play of pure volume and light.
The photos kinda tell the whole story. When you strip away almost all ornament and texture, you have nothing but the pure spatial quality of the space left. You gotta get that right as there’s no way to hide it! If anything is off everyone will notice and, even more so, feel it right away. So there’s some high quality design going on here.
There are also a lot of nice little spatial interplays, vistas and views and connections to the important side areas such as the baptistry or a side chapel.
(I get a big kick out of the above photo – doesn’t it of look a lot like a D&D miniature placed on a tabletop diorama?)
Very cool. One sublime piece of work!
Turning Red quickly piqued my interest when the teaser trailer dropped. For one, it seemed like an amusing premise. For two, said premise involved a giant fluffy panda! For three, it was made by Domee Shi, who directed the Oscar-winning short, Bao. And four, it’s SET IN TORONTO. The whole teaser and the trailer that followed were filled with such a warm sense of familiarity. Plus, Pixar has been riding high with their last two releases. Excitedly, I watched the movie the day it dropped…
Spoilers ahead! Continue reading
To complement the flooftacular version drawn by StarShard, here’s another character reference sheet of me!
I want to talk tonight about the process of making art. Because it is just that: a process.
Rarely (if ever) does something come into our heads fully formed, gifted from the muses with perfection. No, even in the best of circumstances we may have a vision, but it still needs to be rendered tangible so that it can be refined, then reviewed, then refined again.
More often, we begin with merely an inkling, or perhaps a smattering of them. And then we need to, once again, render then tangible so we can see them, massage them, reflect on them and see what arises, then follow those paths, massaging and reflecting and following again, until we get to multitudinous cycles of refinement.
All to reach that ‘final’ product… which in actuality is really just the point where we stopped because if we kept going we (and others*) could see new things and we could elevate the work even more.
Fortunately, the works of Pixar and Walt Disney Animation provide excellent windows into this truth about process. They have been remarkably generous in sharing the stories and histories of creation on a movie, from the earliest notions and sketches to the final product often five years later. That there alone might be enough to have us grasp how much of a process it is, for five years is quite a long time to labour on something. But it becomes even more palpable when we see just how different the early concepts and visions are to what ends up on the screen. (Sometimes it feels like there’s no connection between the two at all!) There’s tonnes of directions and ideas and themes that didn’t work, or didn’t work as well as another, or had their own pitfalls, or didn’t fit. Along the way, whole scenes are discarded, whole elements excised. At the most extreme, the entire last third of the movie, or even the whole movie, was tossed in order to rework and rewrite them towards awesomeness. They’re not shy about this (clearly not, since they’re telling us about it). I doubt its easy, but it’s part of the artistic process.
So why do we think this isn’t the case? Why do we often hold a notion that true art somehow should come in a flash, perfectly formed, and if there’s even a bit of struggle there must be something wrong? I’d postulate this: because, in the end, if the work has been refined and elevated enough then the final result feels inevitable. Everything fits and sings and it seems like it couldn’t be any other way.
Here’s the takeaways that I wanted to create…
For one, an invitation to not be harsh or dismissive when we hear a work is taking a long time or is going through a lot of rewrites or editing or reshoots or whatever, depending on the medium. That’s a part of the process. The thing is not necessarily in trouble. It’s doing what it needs to do. **
For two, a reminder to not be harsh or despondent towards ourselves and our creative endeavours. Especially when they’re HARD. And when they need wrangling, changes, shifts, refinement, refinement, and refinement. It’s part of the process.
And lastly, to gather this all up and apply it to our lives and the grand art we all practice, that of the art of living. For it is no different; it too is a process. And as such we can be kinder and gentler with ourselves, and with others, and dance in the truth that it ongoingly requires great amounts of reflection, wrangling, changes, shifts, refinement, refinement, and forevermore refinement.
It is a neverending path towards increasing beauty.
* Because through this all we needn’t be alone in this – quite the contrary it’s much better to bring along a posse. As noted before, “ya gotta pin your work up on the wall.”
** I’d get more worried if there were no changes being made. Maybe it’s the perfect conception! But odds are not…
Very excited that Francis Kéré won the Pritzker prize this year! I’ve spoken about their work on here before (here and here — including one of the very first Architecture Mondays!) and everything I said then I am still enamored with today, especially the creation of great space and design with what many might term “limited resources.” Because terming it such can be a death knell to the spirit. As Kéré himself says, “It’s not because you are limited in resources that you should accept mediocrity. No, I never accept that! I try to do things I feel proud of.”
I ought to do some deep dives into more of his works, but for the moment enjoy this smattering of photos from his firm’s work:
“Simplicity doesn’t mean banality, it doesn’t mean something is not rich. It can be really rich.”
Absolutely! Great work. A big congrats to Francis Kéré for the well deserved win. Check out the Pritzker’s announcement here, and the Kéré Architecture firm here.
Been a while since I’ve posted a lovely lynx photo…
Doing anything that moves you
Will at the same time leave you vulnerable.
And that’s OK. It’s a good thing.
Last week was such a gem… but Labrouste was not finished! Nearly two decades later a second reading room was finished, this time for the National Library of France and it is equally stunning. Moving from the double barrel vault of the Bibliothèque Sainte-Geneviève, this reading room switches to a series of vaults, elegantly supported by a grove of his signature thin steel columns.
There’s a lot of lovely play going on here. The columns and arches that define the perimeter of the room are massive and weighty, contrasting with those delicate columns and the filagree-enhanced arches that flare from each column to support the vaults. But look closer – notice that the vaults don’t actually rest against those heavy outer bits. Rather, there’s an independent column placed in front of each that heightens the soaring of the vaults overhead. So much about the vaults is in contrast with the walls that support the stacks, yet they still marry together perfectly.
Such a beauty all over. Great stuff.
La Salle Labrouste at the Bibliothèque Nationale by Henri Labrouste.
Lynx Thoughts 