Omoshiroi Blocks: Japanese Memo Pads Reveal Intricate Buildings As The Pages Get Used

We’ve all had the expe­ri­ence, grow­ing up, of using notepads for some­thing oth­er than their intend­ed pur­pose: run­ning our thumbs down their stacked-up pages and savor­ing the buzzing sound, turn­ing them into flip­books by painstak­ing­ly draw­ing a frame on each page, and even — in times of tru­ly dire bore­dom — cut­ting them down into unusu­al sizes and shapes. Now, Japan­ese archi­tec­tur­al mod­el mak­er Tri­ad has ele­vat­ed that youth­ful impulse to great heights of aes­thet­ic refine­ment with their line­up of Omoshi­roi Blocks.

The Japan­ese word omoshi­roi (面白い) can trans­late to “inter­est­ing,” “fun,” “amus­ing,” or a whole host of oth­er such descrip­tors that might come to the mind of some­one who runs across an Omoshi­roi Block in per­son, or even on the inter­net.

Accord­ing to Spoon & Tam­a­go, Tri­ad uses “laser-cut­ting tech­nol­o­gy to cre­ate what is, at first, just a seem­ing­ly nor­mal square cube of paper note cards. But as the note cards get used, an object begins to appear. And you’ll have to exhaust the entire deck of cards to ful­ly exca­vate the hid­den object.

These objects include “var­i­ous notable archi­tec­tur­al sites in Japan like Kyoto’s Kiy­omizud­era Tem­ple, Tokyo’s Asakusa Tem­ple and Tokyo Tow­er. The blocks are com­posed of over 100 sheets of paper and each sheet is dif­fer­ent from the next in the same way that indi­vid­ual moments stack up togeth­er to form a mem­o­ry.” Oth­er three-dimen­sion­al enti­ties exca­vat­able from Omoshi­roi Blocks include trains, cam­eras, and even the streetscape of Detroit, which includes the late John C. Port­man Jr.‘s Renais­sance Cen­ter — the Tokyo Tow­er, you might say, of the Motor City.

You can see most of these Omoshi­roi Blocks, and oth­ers, on Tri­ad’s Insta­gram account. You may have no oth­er option at the moment, since Tri­ad’s offi­cial site has recent­ly been over­whelmed by vis­i­tors, pre­sum­ably seek­ing a few of these recent­ly-gone-viral blocks for them­selves. Besides, notes their most recent Insta­gram post, “all items are out of stock. So, over­seas ship­ping is not pos­si­ble at this moment. Please wait for our online shop announce­ments to be updat­ed.”

Until then, accord­ing to Spoon & Tam­a­go, you might try your luck find­ing one at the Osa­ka branch of Tokyu Hands, Japan’s most cre­ative depart­ment store.

If you can’t make it out there, rest assured that Tri­ad will prob­a­bly have their online shop up and run­ning before this year’s hol­i­day sea­son, thus pro­vid­ing you with an impres­sive gift option for the enthu­si­asts in your life of archi­tec­ture, sta­tionery, uncon­ven­tion­al uses of tech­nol­o­gy, small-scale intri­cate crafts­man­ship, and the arti­facts of Japan­ese cul­ture — all fields in which Japan has spent hun­dreds, if not thou­sands of years excelling.

via Spoon and Tam­a­go/ h/t @herhandsmyhands

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Japan­ese Design­ers May Have Cre­at­ed the Most Accu­rate Map of Our World: See the Autha­Graph

Mes­mer­iz­ing GIFs Illus­trate the Art of Tra­di­tion­al Japan­ese Wood Join­ery — All Done With­out Screws, Nails, or Glue

The Mak­ing of Japan­ese Hand­made Paper: A Short Film Doc­u­ments an 800-Year-Old Tra­di­tion

The Art of Col­lo­type: See a Near Extinct Print­ing Tech­nique, as Lov­ing­ly Prac­ticed by a Japan­ese Mas­ter Crafts­man

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

How Art Spiegelman Designs Comic Books: A Breakdown of His Masterpiece, Maus

Maus, car­toon­ist Art Spiegel­man’s ground­break­ing, Pulitzer Prize-win­ning account of his com­pli­cat­ed rela­tion­ship with his Holo­caust sur­vivor father, is a sto­ry that lingers.

Spiegel­man famous­ly chose to depict the Jews as mice and the Nazis as cats. Non-Jew­ish civil­ians of his father’s native Poland were ren­dered as pigs. He flirt­ed with the idea of depict­ing his French-born wife, the New Yorker’s art edi­tor, Françoise Mouly, as a frog or a poo­dle, until she con­vinced him that her con­ver­sion to Judaism mer­it­ed mouse­hood, too.

The char­ac­ters’ anthro­po­mor­phism is not the only visu­al inno­va­tion, as the Nerd­writer, Evan Puschak, points out above.

Draw­ing on inter­views in Meta­Maus: A Look Inside a Mod­ern Clas­sic, taped con­ver­sa­tions with Neil Gaiman, and the Uni­ver­si­ty of Washington’s Mar­cia Alvar, and oth­er sources, the Nerd­writer pans an eight-pan­el page from the first chap­ter for max­i­mum mean­ing.

On first glance, noth­ing much appears to be hap­pen­ing on that page—hoping to con­vince his elder­ly father to sub­mit to inter­views for the book that would even­tu­al­ly become Maus, Spiegel­man trails him to his child­hood bed­room, which the old­er man has equipped with an exer­cise bike that he ped­als in dress shoes and black socks.

But, as Spiegel­man him­self once point­ed out:

Those pan­els are each units of time. You see them simul­ta­ne­ous­ly, so you have var­i­ous moments in time simul­ta­ne­ous­ly made present. 

Read­ers must force them­selves to pro­ceed slow­ly in order to ful­ly appre­ci­ate the coex­is­tence of all those moments.

Left to our own devices, we might pick up on the senior Spiegelman’s con­cen­tra­tion camp tat­too, or the intro­duc­tion of Art’s late moth­er via the framed pho­to he shows him­self pick­ing up.

But Puschak takes us on an even deep­er dive, not­ing the sig­nif­i­cance of Art’s place­ment in the long mid-page pan­el. Watch out for the 4:30 mark, anoth­er visu­al stun­ner is teased out in a man­ner rem­i­nis­cent of the rev­e­la­tion of a mes­sage writ­ten in invis­i­ble ink.

So Maus con­ferred com­mer­cial suc­cess upon its cre­ator, while hang­ing onto some of the bold visu­al exper­i­ments from ear­li­er in his career, when he and Mouly helped dri­ve the under­ground comix scene—the past and present entwined yet again.

And this is just one page. Should you ven­ture forth in search of fur­ther visu­al cues lat­er in the text, please use the com­ments sec­tion to share your dis­cov­er­ies.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

R. Crumb Shows Us How He Illus­trat­ed Gen­e­sis: A Faith­ful, Idio­syn­crat­ic Illus­tra­tion of All 50 Chap­ters

23 Car­toon­ists Unite to Demand Action to Reduce Gun Vio­lence: Watch the Result

Lyn­da Bar­ry on How the Smart­phone Is Endan­ger­ing Three Ingre­di­ents of Cre­ativ­i­ty: Lone­li­ness, Uncer­tain­ty & Bore­dom

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) Presents a Free Online Class on Fashion: Enroll in Fashion as Design Today

Fash­ion as Design, a free online course by the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (MoMA), begin­ning this com­ing week , may not equip you with the skills to bring a fab­u­lous gar­ment to fruition, but it will help you under­stand the con­text behind clothes both worka­day and wild.

Led by Depart­ment of Archi­tec­ture and Design Senior Cura­tor Pao­la Antonel­li, Cura­to­r­i­al Assis­tant Michelle Mil­lar Fish­er, and Research Assis­tant Stephanie Kramer—whose respec­tive fash­ion heroes are actor Cate Blanchett, design­er Claire McAr­dle, and activist Glo­ria Steinem—the course will con­sid­er the his­to­ry and impact of 70+ indi­vid­ual gar­ments.

The pieces can be exam­ined in per­son through the end of Jan­u­ary as part of MoMA’s Items: Is Fash­ion Mod­ern? exhi­bi­tion.

Some of the duds on the syl­labus ben­e­fit­ed from a celebri­ty boost, such as Bruce Lee’s icon­ic red track suit, recre­at­ed with its prop­er ear­ly 70’s cut, below.

Oth­ers, just as icon­ic, can be bought with­out fan­fare in a drug­store or supermarket—witness the plain white t‑shirt, intro­duced to MoMA’s col­lec­tion when Antonel­li was curat­ing 2004’s Hum­ble Mas­ter­pieces: Every­day Mar­vels of Design.

Stu­dents with no par­tic­u­lar inter­est in fash­ion may be intrigued to con­sid­er the threads on their backs through such lens­es as mar­ket­ing, dis­tri­b­u­tion, pol­i­tics, iden­ti­ty, and eco­nom­ics.

Stu­dents will also delve into the life­cy­cle of cloth­ing, fash­ion-relat­ed labor prac­tices, and sus­tain­abil­i­ty. The more con­sumers under­stand this side of the biz, the like­li­er it is that the fash­ion indus­try will be pushed toward adopt­ing more eth­i­cal prac­tices.

Enroll in the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art’s free Fash­ion as Design course here or stick a toe in with the com­pan­ion exhi­bi­tion’s Youtube playlist or the teach­ers’ delight­ful­ly can­did first-per­son com­men­tary in Sur­face Magazine’s behind-the-scenes cov­er­age:

The Hood­ie

The hood­ie is one of those items that has had a long and mul­ti­fac­eted life, and one that’s become so polit­i­cal­ly charged. But this sweater, with the hood and the string, with or with­out the zip­per, is from the 1930s, from a com­pa­ny that was called Knicker­bock­er Knit­ting Com­pa­ny, before it became Cham­pi­on. Ini­tial­ly the hood­ie was made for ath­letes, to keep them warm before or after train­ing. It was imme­di­ate­ly co-opt­ed by con­struc­tion and cold-stor­age work­ers. Then in the 1970s and ’80s it became city-dwelling kids’ gar­ment of choice when skate­board­ing ille­gal­ly or writ­ing graf­fi­ti or break­danc­ing. There’s an aspect of the hood­ie that’s become a kind of qui­et defi­ance of the system—of want­i­ng to be in the mid­dle of it but some­how away from it. The hood­ie gives you a false impres­sion of being invis­i­ble. All these dif­fer­ent his­to­ries bring us to today. The Trayvon Mar­tin and George Zim­mer­man inci­dent a few years ago trans­formed the hood­ie into this sym­bol of injus­tice. We’re going to have this red Cham­pi­on hood­ie from the 1980s—when it’s at the moment of tran­si­tion. But it’s going to be there by itself and we’re hop­ing it’s going to be real­ly res­o­nant. It shows the pow­er that cer­tain gar­ments have to become sym­bols for polit­i­cal strug­gle. —Pao­la Antonel­li

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Google Cre­ates a Dig­i­tal Archive of World Fash­ion: Fea­tures 30,000 Images, Cov­er­ing 3,000 Years of Fash­ion His­to­ry

1930s Fash­ion Design­ers Pre­dict How Peo­ple Would Dress in the Year 2000

Every Exhi­bi­tion Held at the Muse­um of Mod­ern Art (MoMA) Pre­sent­ed in a New Web Site: 1929 to Present

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine.  Fol­low her @AyunHalliday

An Online Trove of Historic Sewing Patterns & Costumes

As Hal­loween draws nigh, our thoughts turn to cos­tumes.

Not those rub­bery, poor­ly con­struct­ed, sexy and/or gory off-the-rack ready­mades, but the sort of lav­ish, his­tor­i­cal­ly accu­rate, home-sewn affairs that would have earned praise and extra can­dy, if only our moth­er had been inclined to spend the bulk of Octo­ber chained to a sewing machine.

Not that one needs the excuse of a hol­i­day to suit up in a fluffy 50’s crino­line, a Tudor-style kir­tle gown, or a 16th-cen­tu­ry Flem­ish out­fit with all the trim­mings.…

Accoun­tant Artemisia Moltaboc­ca, cre­ator of the his­tor­i­cal and cos­play cos­tum­ing blog Cos­tum­ing Diary, has primed our pump with a list of free his­tor­i­cal medieval, Eliz­a­bethan and Vic­to­ri­an pat­terns, includ­ing ones for the gar­ments men­tioned above.

Click through the many links on her site and you may find your­self tum­bling down a rab­bit hole of some oth­er cos-play­er’s gen­eros­i­ty.

That link to the cus­tom corset pat­tern gen­er­a­tor may set you on the road to cre­at­ing a per­fect­ly fit­ted Viking apron or a good-for-begin­ners tunic. (Bring out yer dead!)

Fan­cy even more choic­es? Moltabocca’s Free His­tor­i­cal Cos­tume Pat­terns Pin­ter­est board is a ver­i­ta­ble trove of dress-up fun.

The Los Ange­les Coun­ty Muse­um of Art’s Cos­tume and Tex­tiles Project has detailed down­load­able PDFs to walk you through con­struc­tion of such anachro­nis­tic fin­ery as a 1940’s Zoot Suit, a 19th-cen­tu­ry boy’s frock (above), and a man’s vest with remov­able chest pads (hub­ba hub­ba).

An 1812 Ohio Mili­tia Officer’s Coat from the Ohio His­tor­i­cal Soci­ety.

A pair of Nan­keen Trousers cour­tesy of the Roy­al Ontario Muse­um.

A bul­let bra (hub­ba bub­ba redux!)—pair it with a 1940s Vogue hat and hand­bag and you’re ready to go!

A Regency Drawn Bon­net and an Improved Seam­less Whale­bone Under­skirt from E. & J. Holmes & Co, Boston, 1857.

If you’re feel­ing less than con­fi­dent about your sewing abil­i­ties, you might make like an upper-class Roman in an Ion­ian chi­ton.

Or just curl a syn­thet­ic wig!

Press some­one else’s seams with a straight­en­ing iron, then kick back and enjoy the vin­tage ads, pho­tos of antique gar­ments, and the peri­od infor­ma­tion that often accom­pa­nies these how-tos. And check out the 1913 patent appli­ca­tion for Marie Perillat’s Bust Reduc­er, a mir­a­cle inven­tion designed to “pre­vent flesh bulging while pro­vid­ing self adjustable, com­fort­able, hygien­ic sup­port.”

Begin with some of Cos­tum­ing Diary’s his­tor­i­cal sewing pat­terns before delv­ing into its mas­sive pat­tern col­lec­tion board on Pin­ter­est.

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Browse a Col­lec­tion of Over 83,500 Vin­tage Sewing Pat­terns

Kandin­sky, Klee & Oth­er Bauhaus Artists Designed Inge­nious Cos­tumes Like You’ve Nev­er Seen Before

1930s Fash­ion Design­ers Pre­dict How Peo­ple Would Dress in the Year 2000

Ayun Hal­l­i­day is an author, illus­tra­tor, the­ater mak­er and Chief Pri­ma­tol­o­gist of the East Vil­lage Inky zine. Her cur­rent sewing project is 19 head­pieces for Theater of the Apes Sub-Adult Division’s upcom­ing pro­duc­tion of Ani­mal Farm at the Tank in New York City. Fol­low her @AyunHalliday.

“The Philosopher’s Web,” an Interactive Data Visualization Shows the Web of Influences Connecting Ancient & Modern Philosophers

How do we begin to read phi­los­o­phy? Can we slide a book from the shelf, thumb through it casu­al­ly, pick­ing out the bits of wis­dom that make sense?

Should we find a well-known “impor­tant” work, sit in a qui­et study, read the pref­ace, translator’s intro­duc­tion, etc…

How soon we dis­cov­er we know less about the book than when we start­ed.

We go wan­der­ing, lose our­selves in sec­ondary sources, gloss­es, foot­notes, com­ments sec­tions, Wikipedia arti­cles…. The impor­tant book remains unread….

In-between these two extremes are a vari­ety of approach­es that work well for many an auto­di­dact. When data sci­en­tist Grant Louis Oliveira decid­ed he want­ed to under­take a self-guid­ed course of study to “more rig­or­ous­ly explore my ideas,” he began with the hon­est admis­sion, “I find the world of phi­los­o­phy a bit impen­e­tra­ble.”

Where some of us might make an out­line, a spread­sheet, or a hum­ble read­ing list, Oliveira cre­at­ed a com­plex “social net­work visu­al­iza­tion” of “a his­to­ry of phi­los­o­phy” to act as his guide.

“What I imag­ined,” he writes, “is some­thing like a tree arranged down a time­line. More influ­en­tial philoso­phers would be big­ger nodes, and the size of the lines between the nodes would per­haps be vari­able by strength of influ­ence.”

The project, called “Philosopher’s Web,” shows us an impres­sive­ly dense col­lec­tion of names—hundreds of names—held togeth­er by what look like the bendy fil­a­ments in a fiber-optic cable. Each blue dot rep­re­sents a philoso­pher, the thin gray lines between the dots rep­re­sent lines of influ­ence.

The data for the project comes not from aca­d­e­m­ic schol­ar­ship but from Wikipedia, whose “seman­tic com­pan­ion” dbpe­dia Oliveira used to con­struct the web of “influ­enced” and “influ­enced by” con­nec­tions. (Read about his method here.)

As you zoom in, click around, and access dif­fer­ent views, the dots and lines wave like ten­drils of a sea anemone. Oliveira describes the process thus: “the more influ­en­tial the philoso­pher, the thick­er and more numer­ous the lines ema­nat­ing from him. You can click on any one of these nodes to see which philoso­pher it rep­re­sents. If you click and hold, it will dis­play the net­work of philoso­phers he has been influ­enced by, and has influ­enced. Each line has an arrow at the end to denote the direc­tion of the rela­tion­ship.” (Despite his use of the mas­cu­line pro­noun, Oliveira’s web of con­nec­tions is not exclu­sive­ly male.)

Both the pro­jec­t’s site and Dai­ly Nous have more nuanced, detailed instruc­tions. While at first glance the Philosopher’s Web can itself seem a bit impen­e­tra­ble, it reveals more of its inner work­ings the more you use it. Press and hold on one of the blue dots, and it expands into a small­er clus­ter of its own, show­ing a cloud of con­nec­tions hov­er­ing around the cen­tral fig­ure. Tog­gle the “focus” and you get sec­ondary and ter­tiary rela­tion­ships.

 

Click on the lines of influ­ence and see, instead of an expla­na­tion, a some­what mys­ti­fy­ing “influ­ence score.” Click on the “Fil­ter” tab under “Set­tings” and find a range of fil­ters that allow you to nar­row or widen the scope of the map to cer­tain his­tor­i­cal peri­ods.

In addi­tion to indi­vid­ual philoso­phers, the web also con­tains the names of sev­er­al writ­ers, jour­nal­ists, colum­nists, and pop­u­lar pub­lic intel­lec­tu­als, like Paul Krug­man and Ayaan Hir­si Ali. It also dis­plays sev­er­al move­ments or schools of thought as blue dots. Want to know the big names in “Insur­rec­tionary Anar­chism”? Click on the node and chose your lev­els of speci­fici­ty.

The weak­ness­es of the approach are per­haps imme­di­ate­ly appar­ent. What good is a clus­ter of unfa­mil­iar names to the begin­ner, espe­cial­ly since each one appears devoid of his­tor­i­cal and intel­lec­tu­al con­text? Oliveira dis­clos­es some oth­er prob­lems, includ­ing an issue with the soft­ware ren­der­ing accents and for­eign char­ac­ters (as you can see in Slavoj Žižek’s entry above.)

But the more one uses the Philosopher’s Web, the more its util­i­ty becomes appar­ent. “Hope­ful­ly based on con­text,” writes Oliveira, “you should be able to fig­ure out who these peo­ple are with a lit­tle bit of google.” Visu­al­iz­ing the con­nec­tions between them gives one an instant sense of the com­mu­ni­ties and con­ti­nu­ities to which they belong, and among each clus­ter will always be at least one or two famil­iar names, at least in pass­ing, to act as an anchor.

All in all, the Philosopher’s Web should prove to be a use­ful appli­ca­tion for a cer­tain kind of learn­er, and it rep­re­sents a step-up from the rit­u­al of click­ing through Wikipedia links to try and put the puz­zle pieces togeth­er one at a time. The Philoso­pher’s Web joins a num­ber of oth­er sim­i­lar visu­al­iza­tions (see the links below) that aim at cre­at­ing sim­i­lar maps of the dis­ci­pline.

Should you find the approach a lit­tle ster­ile and schemat­ic, well… there’s always that book you put down a few hours ago.…

via Dai­ly Nous

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The Entire Dis­ci­pline of Phi­los­o­phy Visu­al­ized with Map­ping Soft­ware: See All of the Com­plex Net­works

The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy, from 600 B.C.E. to 1935, Visu­al­ized in Two Mas­sive, 44-Foot High Dia­grams

The His­to­ry of Phi­los­o­phy Visu­al­ized

Intro­duc­tion to Phi­los­o­phy: A Free Online Course

Josh Jones is a writer and musi­cian based in Durham, NC. Fol­low him at @jdmagness

An Oral History of the Bauhaus: Hear Rare Interviews (in English) with Walter Gropius, Ludwig Mies van der Rohe & More

Image by Detief Mewes, via Wiki­me­dia Com­mons

The Bauhaus, which oper­at­ed as an influ­en­tial school in Ger­many between 1919 and 1933 but lives on as a kind of aes­thet­ic ide­al, has its strongest asso­ci­a­tions with high­ly visu­al work, like tex­tiles, graph­ic design, indus­tri­al design, and espe­cial­ly archi­tec­ture. But a good deal of thought went into estab­lish­ing the kind of ratio­nal­i­ty- and func­tion­al­i­ty-ori­ent­ed philo­soph­i­cal basis that would pro­duce all that visu­al work, and you can hear some of the lead­ing lights of the Bauhaus dis­cuss it, in Eng­lish, on the record Bauhaus Reviewed: 1919 to 1933, now avail­able on Spo­ti­fy. (If you don’t have Spo­ti­fy’s soft­ware, you can down­load it here.) You can also pur­chase your own copy online.

“The bulk of the nar­ra­tive is by [Wal­ter] Gropius, an artic­u­late and pas­sion­ate advo­cate for this remark­able exper­i­ment in edu­ca­tion,” writes All Music Guide’s Stephen Eddins. “Artist Josef Albers and archi­tect [Lud­wig] Mies van der Rohe also con­tribute com­men­tary. [LTM Records founder] James Nice is cred­it­ed with ‘curat­ing’ the CD, and it must be his edit­ing that gives the album such a clear and infor­ma­tive nar­ra­tive struc­ture — one comes away with a vivid under­stand­ing of the devel­op­ment of the move­ment, both philo­soph­i­cal­ly and prag­mat­i­cal­ly.”

In between the spo­ken pas­sages on the ori­gins of the Bauhaus, form and total­i­ty, han­dling and tex­ture, utopi­anism, and oth­er top­ics besides, Bauhaus Reviewed 1919–1933 offers musi­cal com­po­si­tions by such Bauhaus-asso­ci­at­ed com­posers as Arnold Schoen­berg, Josef Matthias Hauer, and George Antheil. You can hear some of the sound from the record repur­posed in Archi­tec­ture as Lan­guage, the short about Mies by Swiss film­mak­er Alexan­dre Favre just below. In it that pio­neer of mod­ernism dis­cuss­es the Bauhaus as well as his own indi­vid­ual work, all of it inter­est­ing to any­one with an incli­na­tion toward mid­cen­tu­ry Euro­pean-Amer­i­can archi­tec­ture and design, none of it ulti­mate­ly more rel­e­vant than the final words the mas­ter speaks: “I don’t want to be inter­est­ing. I want to be good.”

via Mono­skop

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Down­load Orig­i­nal Bauhaus Books & Jour­nals for Free: Gropius, Klee, Kandin­sky, Moholy-Nagy & More

The Female Pio­neers of the Bauhaus Art Move­ment: Dis­cov­er Gertrud Arndt, Mar­i­anne Brandt, Anni Albers & Oth­er For­got­ten Inno­va­tors

32,000+ Bauhaus Art Objects Made Avail­able Online by Har­vard Muse­um Web­site

The Nazi’s Philis­tine Grudge Against Abstract Art and The “Degen­er­ate Art Exhi­bi­tion” of 1937

Based in Seoul, Col­in Mar­shall writes and broad­casts on cities and cul­ture. His projects include the book The State­less City: a Walk through 21st-Cen­tu­ry Los Ange­les and the video series The City in Cin­e­ma. Fol­low him on Twit­ter at @colinmarshall or on Face­book.

To Read This Experimental Edition of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, You’ll Need to Add Heat to the Pages

The Jan van Eyck Acad­e­mie, a “mul­ti­form insti­tute for fine art, design and reflec­tion” in Hol­land, has come up with a nov­el way of pre­sent­ing Ray Brad­bury’s 1953 work of dystopi­an fic­tion, Fahren­heit 451. On Insta­gram, they write:

This week our col­leagues from Super Ter­rain are work­ing in the Lab as a last stop on their all-over-Europe print­ing adven­tures. They showed us this remark­able book they made “Fahren­heit 451”. —

Want to see how the nov­el unfolds? Just add heat. That’s the idea.

Appar­ent­ly they actu­al­ly have plans to mar­ket the book. When asked on Insta­gram, “How can I pur­chase one of these?,” they replied “We’re work­ing on it! Stay tuned.”

When that day comes, please han­dle the book with care.

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

via Twist­ed Sifter

Relat­ed Con­tent:

Ray Brad­bury Reveals the True Mean­ing of Fahren­heit 451: It’s Not About Cen­sor­ship, But Peo­ple “Being Turned Into Morons by TV”

Father Writes a Great Let­ter About Cen­sor­ship When Son Brings Home Per­mis­sion Slip to Read Ray Bradbury’s Cen­sored Book, Fahren­heit 451

Who Was Afraid of Ray Brad­bury & Sci­ence Fic­tion? The FBI, It Turns Out (1959)

Ray Brad­bury: “I Am Not Afraid of Robots. I Am Afraid of Peo­ple” (1974)

Ray Brad­bury: Lit­er­a­ture is the Safe­ty Valve of Civ­i­liza­tion

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A Virtual Tour of Japan’s Inflatable Concert Hall

After the mas­sive Fukushi­ma earth­quake in 2011, archi­tect Ara­ta Isoza­ki and artist Anish Kapoor cre­at­ed the Ark Nova, an inflat­able mobile con­cert hall, designed to bring music to dev­as­tat­ed parts of Japan. Made of a stretchy plas­tic mem­brane, the Ark Nova can be inflat­ed with­in two hours. Add air in the after­noon. At night, enjoy a con­cert in a 500-seat per­for­mance hall. After­wards, deflate, pack on truck, and move the gift of music to the next city.

Marc Kush­n­er, author of The Future of Archi­tec­ture in 100 Build­ings, takes us on a vir­tu­al tour of the con­cert hall in the video above. Over on the web­site Dezeen, you can see an array of pho­tos, show­ing both the inte­ri­or and exte­ri­or of this inge­nious struc­ture.

via Swiss Miss

If you would like to sign up for Open Culture’s free email newslet­ter, please find it here. Or fol­low our posts on Threads, Face­book, BlueSky or Mastodon.

If you would like to sup­port the mis­sion of Open Cul­ture, con­sid­er mak­ing a dona­tion to our site. It’s hard to rely 100% on ads, and your con­tri­bu­tions will help us con­tin­ue pro­vid­ing the best free cul­tur­al and edu­ca­tion­al mate­ri­als to learn­ers every­where. You can con­tribute through Pay­Pal, Patre­on, and Ven­mo (@openculture). Thanks!

Relat­ed Con­tent:

The World Con­cert Hall: Lis­ten To The Best Live Clas­si­cal Music Con­certs for Free

The His­to­ry of Clas­si­cal Music in 1200 Tracks: From Gre­go­ri­an Chant to Górec­ki (100 Hours of Audio)

Stan­ford Prof Makes Ukule­les from Wood Floor of New Con­cert Hall

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