Accio Art

dbvictoria:



This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare
Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show
“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.
Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”
Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  
Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 
As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
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dbvictoria:



This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare
Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show
“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.
Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”
Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  
Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 
As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
<x>

dbvictoria:



This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare
Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show
“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.
Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”
Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  
Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 
As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
<x>

dbvictoria:



This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare
Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show
“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.
Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”
Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  
Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 
As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
<x>

dbvictoria:



This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare
Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show
“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.
Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”
Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  
Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 
As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
<x>

dbvictoria:



This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare
Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show
“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.
Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”
Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  
Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 
As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
<x>

dbvictoria:



This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare
Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show
“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.
Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”
Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  
Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 
As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
<x>

dbvictoria:

This {NOT}Steampunk {but really DIESELPUNK} Pottery by a Man Named Beer is Not Your Usual Craft Fair Fare

Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s unique, hand-hewn stoneware will be showcased at the 32nd annual Smithsonian Craft Show

“It’s a lot more gratifying to make something instead of trying to fix something that’s broken,” says Chunhaswasdikul, who’s known by his birth name, “Beer,” among his family and friends. Since becoming a full-time potter in 2002, Beer’s work, which includes both functional and decorative items, has been featured in some of the country’s most prestigious juried craft exhibitions. This week, his rugged brand of stoneware will also be showcased in the annual Smithsonian Craft Show alongside the one-of-a-kind creations of 123 other participants.

Beer was born in Thailand, and moved to the United States to study English at Gadsden State Community College in 1985. After graduating, he attended Jacksonville State University, where he became infatuated with designing and creating ceramics. Beer completed college with a B.F.A., and moved to Birmingham with his wife, Yuka. There, he would dabble in nearly every kind of professional pursuit—except for art. Beer opened an automobile repair shop, purchased and operated several gas stations in Gadsden, and also briefly owned a Chinese restaurant, all the while helping Yuka run a children’s clothing boutique. But one day, a newspaper ad selling a pottern kiln caught Beer’s eye. It was only $50, he says; he “couldn’t pass it up.”

Beer soon acquired a real pottery wheel, bought some clay and transformed his garage into a workspace. This, along with the encouragement and praise he received from customers and local media outlets, motivated him to quit his multiple “day jobs” to focus on his passion.  

Beer primarily makes his living from his dishwasher-safe, functional ceramics—teapots, birdfeeders, pitchers and mugs—that are wheel-thrown and hand-fashioned into sculptural forms before they’re coated with vivid paints and glazes. Each item, says Beer, is designed to be both “expressive and fun.” But in 2011, he set a new goal. He wanted to make what he now jokingly calls “manly pottery.” Inspired by rusty flea market finds and the years he spent elbows-deep in automotive grease, Beer began a series of “metalware”—clay teapots shaped like Porsche innards, air compressors and other utilitarian repair shop parts, as well as cylindrical mugs that resemble grenades. 

As a former auto mechanic, it’d make sense that potter Paveen “Beer” Chunhaswasdikul’s garage in Gadsden, Alabama, would be filled with relics from his past career. The room’s shelves are lined with metal cans, flame throwers and engines. But their metallic glint belies a surprising secret: Each object, from bolts to base, has been painstakingly fashioned from clay. And the garage, where the craftsman once tinkered with car innards, is now a ceramics studio. There, he spends his days hand-making “metalware” teapots and mugs that are just as much miniature pieces of art as they are eye-catching novelties. 
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erikkwakkel:

Sharing a binding
This is a clever book from the 18th century, printed in Oxford in 1756. It presents both the Old and New Testament, although the books are not bound together the regular way, behind one another. Instead, the binder opted to place them next to each other. This very rare binding technique is part of a family that includes the dos-à-dos (or “back to back”) binding, which I blogged about before (here). Having the two testaments bound this way allowed the reader to consult passages from both books at the same time. Indeed, the empty pages in the front and back are filled with notes, including in what looks like Greek and Hebrew. It appears this clever binding had a reader to match.
Pic: Manchester, Chetham’s Library (source).
View Larger

erikkwakkel:

Sharing a binding

This is a clever book from the 18th century, printed in Oxford in 1756. It presents both the Old and New Testament, although the books are not bound together the regular way, behind one another. Instead, the binder opted to place them next to each other. This very rare binding technique is part of a family that includes the dos-à-dos (or “back to back”) binding, which I blogged about before (here). Having the two testaments bound this way allowed the reader to consult passages from both books at the same time. Indeed, the empty pages in the front and back are filled with notes, including in what looks like Greek and Hebrew. It appears this clever binding had a reader to match.

Pic: Manchester, Chetham’s Library (source).


erikkwakkel:

Book down the toilet
Recycling books is of all ages. Well known are the actions of bookbinders in the 16th and 17th centuries, who cut up medieval manuscripts and used their pages to support bindings (see for an example here). Some time ago I blogged about fragments of medieval love poetry that were used for the lining of a bishop’s mitre. The case of recycling seen here, however, may just top these examples. You are looking at an 18th-century copy of the Historia universalis that was revamped to become a portable toilet. Once you open the book, which stands half a meter high, two wooden boards fold out, while a third forms the top, featuring the all-important hole. Presto: a commode - or bed pan holder - was born. It’s both a brilliant design - made for portable use - and, I’m sure, the dream toilet of book-lovers.
Pic: I am not sure who first reported on this book, but I recently encountered it in a post by Neotarama (here). More detailed information on this commode-book, which sold at a book auction in 2008, here.

erikkwakkel:

Book down the toilet

Recycling books is of all ages. Well known are the actions of bookbinders in the 16th and 17th centuries, who cut up medieval manuscripts and used their pages to support bindings (see for an example here). Some time ago I blogged about fragments of medieval love poetry that were used for the lining of a bishop’s mitre. The case of recycling seen here, however, may just top these examples. You are looking at an 18th-century copy of the Historia universalis that was revamped to become a portable toilet. Once you open the book, which stands half a meter high, two wooden boards fold out, while a third forms the top, featuring the all-important hole. Presto: a commode - or bed pan holder - was born. It’s both a brilliant design - made for portable use - and, I’m sure, the dream toilet of book-lovers.

Pic: I am not sure who first reported on this book, but I recently encountered it in a post by Neotarama (here). More detailed information on this commode-book, which sold at a book auction in 2008, here.


uispeccoll:

muspeccoll:

Inspired by uispeccoll, houghtonlib, smithsonianlibraries, and others, we’ve created our first animated gifs! 
These images are from Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening by Humphry Repton (London, 1816).  Repton was England’s first professional landscape gardener, a term he coined himself. Repton and other gardeners of this period sought to shape the landscape without the outward appearance of control, creating “natural” scenery too perfect to exist in nature. 
Repton’s main employment was as a design consultant for wealthy landowners throughout the English countryside, and he used his artistic and writing skills to further his career. When he sketched plans for new landscapes, Repton devised a way to make the illustrations interact with his clients by incorporating overlays which, when closed, show the current state of the property.  The client could lift the flaps to see how his or her estate would look after Repton’s proposed modifications. 
Although Repton took on hundreds of commissions during his thirty-year career, his writings and watercolors may be his most enduring achievements.  His illustrations, along with his written commentary and explanations of his design principles, were collected and published as Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1803) and Fragments on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1816). 
MERLIN catalog record

Welcome to the addictive and fun world of GIF animation.
uispeccoll:

muspeccoll:

Inspired by uispeccoll, houghtonlib, smithsonianlibraries, and others, we’ve created our first animated gifs! 
These images are from Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening by Humphry Repton (London, 1816).  Repton was England’s first professional landscape gardener, a term he coined himself. Repton and other gardeners of this period sought to shape the landscape without the outward appearance of control, creating “natural” scenery too perfect to exist in nature. 
Repton’s main employment was as a design consultant for wealthy landowners throughout the English countryside, and he used his artistic and writing skills to further his career. When he sketched plans for new landscapes, Repton devised a way to make the illustrations interact with his clients by incorporating overlays which, when closed, show the current state of the property.  The client could lift the flaps to see how his or her estate would look after Repton’s proposed modifications. 
Although Repton took on hundreds of commissions during his thirty-year career, his writings and watercolors may be his most enduring achievements.  His illustrations, along with his written commentary and explanations of his design principles, were collected and published as Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1803) and Fragments on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1816). 
MERLIN catalog record

Welcome to the addictive and fun world of GIF animation.
uispeccoll:

muspeccoll:

Inspired by uispeccoll, houghtonlib, smithsonianlibraries, and others, we’ve created our first animated gifs! 
These images are from Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening by Humphry Repton (London, 1816).  Repton was England’s first professional landscape gardener, a term he coined himself. Repton and other gardeners of this period sought to shape the landscape without the outward appearance of control, creating “natural” scenery too perfect to exist in nature. 
Repton’s main employment was as a design consultant for wealthy landowners throughout the English countryside, and he used his artistic and writing skills to further his career. When he sketched plans for new landscapes, Repton devised a way to make the illustrations interact with his clients by incorporating overlays which, when closed, show the current state of the property.  The client could lift the flaps to see how his or her estate would look after Repton’s proposed modifications. 
Although Repton took on hundreds of commissions during his thirty-year career, his writings and watercolors may be his most enduring achievements.  His illustrations, along with his written commentary and explanations of his design principles, were collected and published as Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1803) and Fragments on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1816). 
MERLIN catalog record

Welcome to the addictive and fun world of GIF animation.

uispeccoll:

muspeccoll:

Inspired by uispeccoll, houghtonlib, smithsonianlibraries, and others, we’ve created our first animated gifs! 

These images are from Fragments on the theory and practice of landscape gardening by Humphry Repton (London, 1816).  Repton was England’s first professional landscape gardener, a term he coined himself. Repton and other gardeners of this period sought to shape the landscape without the outward appearance of control, creating “natural” scenery too perfect to exist in nature. 

Repton’s main employment was as a design consultant for wealthy landowners throughout the English countryside, and he used his artistic and writing skills to further his career. When he sketched plans for new landscapes, Repton devised a way to make the illustrations interact with his clients by incorporating overlays which, when closed, show the current state of the property.  The client could lift the flaps to see how his or her estate would look after Repton’s proposed modifications. 

Although Repton took on hundreds of commissions during his thirty-year career, his writings and watercolors may be his most enduring achievements.  His illustrations, along with his written commentary and explanations of his design principles, were collected and published as Observations on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1803) and Fragments on the Theory and Practice of Landscape Gardening (1816). 

MERLIN catalog record

Welcome to the addictive and fun world of GIF animation.


uispeccoll:

houghtonlib:

Our contribution for this week’s Miniature Mondays is an almanac for 1785 in a contemporary richly gilt red morocco binding with matching slipcase.
Goldsmith, John, active 1656. An almanack for the year of our Lord God, M.DCC.LXXXV.
mTyp 705.85.432
Houghton Library, Harvard University

Wonderful condition! 1785 is a bit more elaborate than 1790 which you can see here: http://uispeccoll.tumblr.com/post/79163668678/its-miniature-monday-here-we-have-an-almanac
uispeccoll:

houghtonlib:

Our contribution for this week’s Miniature Mondays is an almanac for 1785 in a contemporary richly gilt red morocco binding with matching slipcase.
Goldsmith, John, active 1656. An almanack for the year of our Lord God, M.DCC.LXXXV.
mTyp 705.85.432
Houghton Library, Harvard University

Wonderful condition! 1785 is a bit more elaborate than 1790 which you can see here: http://uispeccoll.tumblr.com/post/79163668678/its-miniature-monday-here-we-have-an-almanac

uispeccoll:

houghtonlib:

Our contribution for this week’s Miniature Mondays is an almanac for 1785 in a contemporary richly gilt red morocco binding with matching slipcase.

Goldsmith, John, active 1656. An almanack for the year of our Lord God, M.DCC.LXXXV.

mTyp 705.85.432

Houghton Library, Harvard University

Wonderful condition! 1785 is a bit more elaborate than 1790 which you can see here: http://uispeccoll.tumblr.com/post/79163668678/its-miniature-monday-here-we-have-an-almanac


moshita:

Surgically Altered Ceramics

The installation takes the form of an observation of a surgical experiment in progress. The ‘surgeon’ is dissecting the craft object to see what is within. He finds craft through and through. He tries the experiment again and again, piling up the dissected work, hoping to see something different but it is always the same.

Beccy Ridsdel 
moshita:

Surgically Altered Ceramics

The installation takes the form of an observation of a surgical experiment in progress. The ‘surgeon’ is dissecting the craft object to see what is within. He finds craft through and through. He tries the experiment again and again, piling up the dissected work, hoping to see something different but it is always the same.

Beccy Ridsdel 
moshita:

Surgically Altered Ceramics

The installation takes the form of an observation of a surgical experiment in progress. The ‘surgeon’ is dissecting the craft object to see what is within. He finds craft through and through. He tries the experiment again and again, piling up the dissected work, hoping to see something different but it is always the same.

Beccy Ridsdel 
moshita:

Surgically Altered Ceramics

The installation takes the form of an observation of a surgical experiment in progress. The ‘surgeon’ is dissecting the craft object to see what is within. He finds craft through and through. He tries the experiment again and again, piling up the dissected work, hoping to see something different but it is always the same.

Beccy Ridsdel 
moshita:

Surgically Altered Ceramics

The installation takes the form of an observation of a surgical experiment in progress. The ‘surgeon’ is dissecting the craft object to see what is within. He finds craft through and through. He tries the experiment again and again, piling up the dissected work, hoping to see something different but it is always the same.

Beccy Ridsdel 

moshita:

Surgically Altered Ceramics

The installation takes the form of an observation of a surgical experiment in progress. The ‘surgeon’ is dissecting the craft object to see what is within. He finds craft through and through. He tries the experiment again and again, piling up the dissected work, hoping to see something different but it is always the same.

Beccy Ridsdel 


uispeccoll:

Miniature Monday!
This week we are taking pocket dictionaries to a whole new level with these mini dictionaries from Leipzig.  These four functional little volumes were printed by C.G Röder probably sometime in the 20th century, and include translations from German to Latin, English to German, Spanish to German, and German to English.  Imagine—all that language in the palm of your hand!
Miniatur Wörterbuch (four volumes). C.G Röder (1,2,10) and M. Kötzel (5), Leipzig.  20th century.  Charlotte Smith Uncatalogued Miniatures.
-Laura H.

See all of our Miniature Monday posts. 
uispeccoll:

Miniature Monday!
This week we are taking pocket dictionaries to a whole new level with these mini dictionaries from Leipzig.  These four functional little volumes were printed by C.G Röder probably sometime in the 20th century, and include translations from German to Latin, English to German, Spanish to German, and German to English.  Imagine—all that language in the palm of your hand!
Miniatur Wörterbuch (four volumes). C.G Röder (1,2,10) and M. Kötzel (5), Leipzig.  20th century.  Charlotte Smith Uncatalogued Miniatures.
-Laura H.

See all of our Miniature Monday posts. 
uispeccoll:

Miniature Monday!
This week we are taking pocket dictionaries to a whole new level with these mini dictionaries from Leipzig.  These four functional little volumes were printed by C.G Röder probably sometime in the 20th century, and include translations from German to Latin, English to German, Spanish to German, and German to English.  Imagine—all that language in the palm of your hand!
Miniatur Wörterbuch (four volumes). C.G Röder (1,2,10) and M. Kötzel (5), Leipzig.  20th century.  Charlotte Smith Uncatalogued Miniatures.
-Laura H.

See all of our Miniature Monday posts. 
uispeccoll:

Miniature Monday!
This week we are taking pocket dictionaries to a whole new level with these mini dictionaries from Leipzig.  These four functional little volumes were printed by C.G Röder probably sometime in the 20th century, and include translations from German to Latin, English to German, Spanish to German, and German to English.  Imagine—all that language in the palm of your hand!
Miniatur Wörterbuch (four volumes). C.G Röder (1,2,10) and M. Kötzel (5), Leipzig.  20th century.  Charlotte Smith Uncatalogued Miniatures.
-Laura H.

See all of our Miniature Monday posts. 
uispeccoll:

Miniature Monday!
This week we are taking pocket dictionaries to a whole new level with these mini dictionaries from Leipzig.  These four functional little volumes were printed by C.G Röder probably sometime in the 20th century, and include translations from German to Latin, English to German, Spanish to German, and German to English.  Imagine—all that language in the palm of your hand!
Miniatur Wörterbuch (four volumes). C.G Röder (1,2,10) and M. Kötzel (5), Leipzig.  20th century.  Charlotte Smith Uncatalogued Miniatures.
-Laura H.

See all of our Miniature Monday posts. 
uispeccoll:

Miniature Monday!
This week we are taking pocket dictionaries to a whole new level with these mini dictionaries from Leipzig.  These four functional little volumes were printed by C.G Röder probably sometime in the 20th century, and include translations from German to Latin, English to German, Spanish to German, and German to English.  Imagine—all that language in the palm of your hand!
Miniatur Wörterbuch (four volumes). C.G Röder (1,2,10) and M. Kötzel (5), Leipzig.  20th century.  Charlotte Smith Uncatalogued Miniatures.
-Laura H.

See all of our Miniature Monday posts.

uispeccoll:

Miniature Monday!

This week we are taking pocket dictionaries to a whole new level with these mini dictionaries from Leipzig.  These four functional little volumes were printed by C.G Röder probably sometime in the 20th century, and include translations from German to Latin, English to German, Spanish to German, and German to English.  Imagine—all that language in the palm of your hand!

Miniatur Wörterbuch (four volumes). C.G Röder (1,2,10) and M. Kötzel (5), Leipzig.  20th century.  Charlotte Smith Uncatalogued Miniatures.

-Laura H.

See all of our Miniature Monday posts.


bookpatrol:

A trio of book sculptures by Rosie Leventon
Rosie Leventon is one of the new-breed of green artists cropping up around the world.
Her work is deeply “grounded in a sensitive concern for the natural environment and how we use it.” She “sees her work as interweaving a kind of personal archaeology with the archaeology of contemporary society and the physical archaeology of places.”
She is all about using local and recycled materials and resources whenever possible.
Read morebookpatrol:

A trio of book sculptures by Rosie Leventon
Rosie Leventon is one of the new-breed of green artists cropping up around the world.
Her work is deeply “grounded in a sensitive concern for the natural environment and how we use it.” She “sees her work as interweaving a kind of personal archaeology with the archaeology of contemporary society and the physical archaeology of places.”
She is all about using local and recycled materials and resources whenever possible.
Read morebookpatrol:

A trio of book sculptures by Rosie Leventon
Rosie Leventon is one of the new-breed of green artists cropping up around the world.
Her work is deeply “grounded in a sensitive concern for the natural environment and how we use it.” She “sees her work as interweaving a kind of personal archaeology with the archaeology of contemporary society and the physical archaeology of places.”
She is all about using local and recycled materials and resources whenever possible.
Read morebookpatrol:

A trio of book sculptures by Rosie Leventon
Rosie Leventon is one of the new-breed of green artists cropping up around the world.
Her work is deeply “grounded in a sensitive concern for the natural environment and how we use it.” She “sees her work as interweaving a kind of personal archaeology with the archaeology of contemporary society and the physical archaeology of places.”
She is all about using local and recycled materials and resources whenever possible.
Read more

bookpatrol:

A trio of book sculptures by Rosie Leventon

Rosie Leventon is one of the new-breed of green artists cropping up around the world.

Her work is deeply “grounded in a sensitive concern for the natural environment and how we use it.” She “sees her work as interweaving a kind of personal archaeology with the archaeology of contemporary society and the physical archaeology of places.”

She is all about using local and recycled materials and resources whenever possible.

Read more