Styrofoam artwork by Jenni Rope

On this grey and sludgy Tuesday, my eyes feast on these large mobile sculptures by the Finnish artist Jenni Rope - they look like slow motion explosions. They are big works, more like room installations, and are not the only type of thing she does - she is also a very fine painter and graphic artist (I love those brushstroke works and also her textile pattern design). But mobiles are something I was always quite crazy about, and the way she uses styrofoam slabs to make these, is really cool.

When you paint styrofoam, it looks like all kinds of other things: rocks, minerals, concrete - heavy, somehow. And a bit unreal. 

I always find it an enormous inspiration, when artists work in anywhere available and inexpensive materials, such as these. You don't need brass, bronze or granite to make fine sculptural expressions!

Sometimes she does on-the-floor installations with these odd, painted shapes, I really love this one from 2011, 'The Findings'.

A subterranean must see in Cph: Sambuichi 'the Water'

Very close to where I live, an old system of underground water reservoirs have become an art space, some years back - and every year Cisternerne present a new wild and overwhelming installation, created specifically for this cavern-like dark and wet space, hiding secretly under the park clad hill by the castle, that I have written about before.

This year it is the Japanese architect Hiroshi Sambuichi, who has created the installation. It's called 'the Water'. I went to see it yesterday, and it was so incredibly beautiful. My absolute warmest recommendations, to anyone living in or going to Copenhagen, and it will be there until February 2018, so no need to rush.

Yesterday was a sunny day, and this is a really dark experience, in the literal sense of the word. You crawl down the narrow stairs to an almost physically tangible pitch black nothing at first - all you sense around you is this cool and drippingly wet cavern and an almost overwhelming scent of fresh cedar and cypress wood - and the peculiar, metallic smell of wetness. Blinded by this sudden shift from blazing spring sun to underground cave, I almost crawled into the space. I couldn't see a thing.

But then the most elegant and mysterious world started to materialize before my eyes - like a dark forest or an underwater shrine. The whole space is transversed by elevated, cedarwood walkways in traditional Japanese style, and here and there they lead you to surprising vistas; the lantern lit curve of a bridge, an island of deliciously green fresh moss. Sudden pillars of natural sunlight, led underground by intricate mirrors. And constantly the sound of dripping water.

It was actually a bit hopeless to photograph, except in the parts where you could see, by sunlight - the semi-dark places just couldn't be done any justice by a camera. Go see for yourself, it's great! 

Links and info after the images.

There were a lot of references to traditional Japanese architecture and to their perception of the elements - and of course some philosophical layers in the whole concept of the installation, which will grow and evolve as nature wills it, in the period it's there. Read about the whole thing here on the Cisternerne (as the place is called) website.

In the heart of the space there is a very, very dark area, where a different kind of rope line the walkways, and seem to border off a kind of center of the grid - where apparently nothing is - but I saw that the rope was the very rough, handmade hemp kind, that you see around shinto temples, and that white strips were hanging from them. I actually had to take a blitz photo to establish this.

There was something that felt very magical about this roped off centre, and I am sure that the kami were abundant there. I could almost not bring myself to leave, but in the end I was freezing (bring a sweater!) and had to get back up into the sun. To be blinded all over again. 

Architecture bucket list: Saarinen/Bertoia chapel at MIT

In my childhood home we had four large coffee table books (from a time before such books became common). They were bound in crimson pleather, and must have had colourful dust jackets, that must have gone missing at some point. To me, they were just 'the red books'. They were photo books with themes such as 'Fantastic Buildings of the World', 'Nature's Wonders' - and that sort of thing, you get the picture. And that was just the point: they were full of the most stunning full colour pictures, from LIFE magazine and National Geographic, as far as I remember. I clearly see, that much of my curiosity, my lust for travel and interest in architecture comes from getting lost in those books, hours on end. 

The books themselves are gone now, but I regularly have a moment of "where on earth have I seen this before, I know this from somewhere....? Aaaaaah, of course. I saw a photo in The Red Books!" 

This is exactly what I thought, when I saw an image of the wonderful hanging sculpture/room installation/altar backdrop, Harry Bertoia made for Eero Saarinens small chapel at the M.I.T. campus in Massachusetts (built in 1955). In one the aforementioned red books, there was full page of this fantastic cascading sculpture, and it was a particular favorite of mine. The utter simplicity of the idea, the way this feature in the space is almost alive and magical, like a waterfall of light or snow or flower petals.....

The windowless round brick building itself, is very simple (but has lots of lovely details in the brick- and wood work). The only natural light comes from the giant skylight above the altar, which is simply a white marble cube.

Now see for yourself (and there are a few links and a bit more info after the pictures).

All images are sourced from this very well written article from archdaily.com - read the article here, if you want to know more about this small, peculiar and stunning building:

AD Classics: MIT Chapel / Eero Saarinen

Inspiration: giant mobiles by Xavier Veilhan

Xavier Veilhan is a French sculptor / installation artist, who does these massive mobiles - among many other things. The mobiles are the part of his work I really like, they are fantastic. He doesn't stray much from his style: they are always done with very simple elements: spheres, sticks and sometimes round discs.

Sometimes they hang from a contraption, that becomes part of the work (the one above is particularly great, I think), and at other times they hang from the ceiling. What makes them intricate and really impressive, is the sheer scale of them, they are huge! Wow.

All images here are from his own very informative website - which you can check out here.

Here is a bit about him on Wikipedia 

This year he will be representing France at the Venice Biennale.

And now: the mobiles! Or a small handful of them, anyway.

Spring favorite # 2: The Flower Queen

Marianne Eriksen Scott-Hansen is a Danish fashion artist / designer / stylist / general creative explosion - known by anyone who has followed experimental fashion here in DK for the past two decades. She works in all kinds of media, but her almost superhuman ways with the scissors are somehow central to much of what she does. When you read interviews with her, she often explains how she works intuitively, with very few templates, work drawings or such. She simply lets the scissors do the talking, and incredible things happen. 

At the moment she works almost entirely in paper, and her wild, textural visual style has really taken off in her current project: doing enormous flower installations in cheap tissue or crêpe paper. She emphasizes how she insists on working in the standard materials her local paper shop stocks (although the amounts of paper that she uses are not quite standard - she must be a wonderful customer for that paper shop!!), and how she does everything herself and by hand. 

I am simply breathlessly impressed and full of awe and wonder! It is stunning and abundant. The workload almost incomprehensible - and, it's all from plain paper and a pair (or several pairs) of ordinary scissors. Paper truly is a magic material (as I keep insisting on).

Please enjoy these few pictures of Marianne Eriksen Scott-Hansens Easter decor in the Royal Copenhagen flagship store - and, I think, from a backdrop for the ELLE style awards (just two of her many, many supersize flower extravaganzas).

All photos are from her instagram, where you should follow her and fall in love with her work as well.

Ruth Asawa

Ruth Asawa (1926-2013) is one of those artists I had never heard of, until I randomly stumbled upon an image somewhere - only to discover that she is a very important American artist, who had an amazing life, made some stunning art and was a tireless activist for education, especially children's arts education. She left quite a legacy in her native California, and in several other places. Perhaps some of my readers have missed out on her, like myself, so here she is - surrounded by some of her signature metal wire sculpture.

She was born in California by Japanese immigrant parents, and was interned during the US/Japanese conflict in World War II, and was subject to much sad racism in her own country - for instance she had to leave teacher college without an actual degree, because no one would hire her for the needed internship. Later she went to art school, and studied under the Bauhaus legend Josef Albers, who inspired her to experiment with commonplace materials. And her one of favorite materials ended up being wire.

I've read somewhere, that her crocheted/woven three dimensional metal sculptures comes from childhood memories of studying insect's wings - and from a later meeting with some basket weavers on a vacation in Mexico, who taught her the particular technique. 

Just see how beautiful they are..... Like pods, fruits, clouds - primitive, in some way. And yet so sophisticated and cool, so very mid century modern. And they look so light! But imagine what they must weigh - and imagine the work involved in making them, and the sheer physical strength she must have had! 

A few more photos of her wire work: a portrait of her from 1952 by Imogen Cunningham and underneath that, her studio with masses of suspended sculptures - and last an installation of hanging pieces, very well lit, so the shadows become an integral part of the work.

Almost as famous as for her artistic work, she was for her many projects with children. 

A most amazing collaboration with children, is the work she did on the San Fransisco Fountain, a massive bronze thing, depicting the history of San Fransisco in bas-relief - mostly based on children's work in play dough, done by kids in her school groups, among those, her own six children. 

There are so many great stories about her, too many for a little blog post like this - but if you feel curious, study a bit more, for instance here, on the official Ruth Asawa website. 

Last pics: Ruth Asawa working, surrounded by her kids - and the last one is from 1975, from one of her many sculpture workshops with children.

A bit of Yayoi and a bit of anniversary

Louisiana has a stunning Yayoi Kusama exhibition at the moment, and it is not to be missed, if you are in the least bit interested in visual art, art history, pop art - or if you just happen to like to have your senses bombarded with color and wowness. It is a very in-depth look at her long life as an artist, and I found it completely absorbing, and spent hours there, even reading a lot of the tiny print about her fascinating life.

I have written a bit about her before, a mini-portrait of sorts, read here, and also a bit here (I am a great Yayoi-enthusiast!) and I have shown some of her most characteristic polkadotty work - so I thought I'd show some impressions from the Louisiana show, of her more subdued work. All her work is a partly about obsessive repetition, but you have seen the colorful dots and pumpkins such a lot, and I was thrilled to see these pale, discreet paintings (the Infinity nets), all the beautiful black/white photos and her graphic work. 

I also adore the color explosions, the whole sensory overload - and if you do too, you will be richly rewarded. But I really like this side of Yayoi Kusama, and of the exhibition. You should really, really go see it! It ends in late January 2016.

And now for a bit of a long PS:

I discovered, quite randomly, that this is my blog post number 200!

This is not what I had ever in my wildest fantasy imagined, when I started a little semi-private advent calendar event in 2011, but this blogging thing has grown on me. 

I will never be an every-day-kind-of-blogger, not even close, but as it is, I always have much, much more I would like to write about, than I actually manage to find time for - and that tells me I should keep it up. Also, I started a job outside home recently, with an almost full weekly schedule, and that makes blogging harder, but not impossible, no no.

And Christmas will come to the blog as well, for the fifth season this year - yay, another anniversary! 

There will be paper projects - well, not quite daily, but absolutely weekly. So keep the printer, the scissors and the glue handy. And if you want to get warmed up a bit; here's a Pinterest board that links to most the DIY's I have posted over the years - or go to 'DIY's - the full list' in the top menu on this page.

And this year I will even open a small online shop, as well - for one very special product!
More about this is to come, real soon. I'll keep you posted.

Let me use this PS to thank everyone who finds their way to these pages. You are so very welcome, and I hope that my tips, thoughts or paper designs add a bit of color to your life. And you are always more than welcome to leave a small (or large!) comment and let me know who you are.
 

I'd love to know!