The Artwork I Bought From The Devil

The first time I went to Prague was during the summer of ’98. It was the moment “Mezzanine” was released by Massive Attack.

Traveling solo and lightly, I had no plans, no phone and certainly no camera. I discovered a hostel run out of a school building and found myself swept down into underground passageways, drinking Velvet, dancing at parties, accompanied by a former Russian sniper, and walking the sinuous cobblestone streets that taught me the freedom of not knowing what was around the corner or even where exactly I was. The city, then, had a magnetism for risk and magic that was nothing but seductive.

The second and third time I visited Prague, while crossing the Charles Bridge, there was an older man wearing knobby red horns on his head, working on his paintings, selling his art. His work consisted mostly of self-portraits: images of himself with his horns on his head posed on the Charles Bridge, looking away, his tongue flailing out to one side. Sometimes he had a sun visor on and painted himself with the visor, but he always had his little red horns, and he was always stationed on a particular edge of the bridge.  He did, however, also paint pastoral scenes of the Czech countryside and some of the Charles Bridge itself. He seemed to be there every day regardless of weather: He baked under the summer sun and on my winter trip, there he was again, selling and making his art. I made it a point to talk to him before I left to go home, conversing with him a bit in German, and ended up buying a few of his paintings. It was irresistible.

All I’ve had were these paintings and my memories of this artist, until I decided to look him up again to see if he was still around, only to find out that he had passed away, sometime over the past couple of years. I kept reading that he was also referred to as “Devil Man” or “Devil of the Charles Bridge.” He was known, as I remember then, by locals as “The Professor of the Charles Bridge.” Apparently, he had been a professor prior to his Charles Bridge post.

His real name is Antonin Votava and I imagine that he continues to contribute to the fog, fading in and out, over the bridge that crosses the Vltava River.

Here are my paintings by Antonin Votava and some images I found of him online. I’m glad someone took photos.

Jeff Koons Reflects The Self–Perfectly

 

 

After going to see ‘Jeff Koons: A Retrospective’ at the Whitney Museum of American Art, it’s no wonder why he is considered one of the great American artists of our time. I didn’t always think that way about him.

There are so many topics that are interesting to explore throughout the retrospective ranging from the significance of the salesman, mass production, social mobility, the readymade object, kitsch, fetish art, advertising and celebrity. And it doesn’t stop there.

I watched people at the museum interact with some of his oversized relatable, and sometimes seemingly inflatable, objects that draw you in, like the primal instincts humans have towards shiny reflective things. To see these masterfully created objects, scaled larger than life, literally reflecting the viewers, was marvelous. And what were most people doing? Taking “selfies” and sharing them (inflate lips here).

If Janis Joplin Had A Love Child….

…they could see their mother’s old apartment building through this window in Greenwich Village. The same building, inside the bar on the first floor, where she used to sing; where Bob Dylan, Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat hung out and Diana Ross possibly had her first performance.

If Janis Joplin had a love child, maybe they would live here. In a neighborhood where they could “feel it” walking their way in the streets, among the leftover songs and unfinished conversations of all the ghostly souls.

The lure of this pied-à-terre for my clients could have also been the two fireplaces and outdoor space. Indeed a rarity.

For this project, I worked with the client’s existing art collection and their wish for eclectic pieces juxtaposed with a few traditional elements. Some of the great finds in the living room include an antique, French, cast-iron, plate warmer cabinet, which was re-purposed as a bar curio, and an African-inspired, Art Deco floor lamp. The coffee table is composed of recycled plexi and salvaged redwood from an old water tower, custom-made by Mark Jupiter locally in Brooklyn. An antique chair was reupholstered in bold floral and zig zag fabric that reminds me a bit of the game Tetris. Yellow-gold, Pegasus-inspired damask and floral bouquet pillows were fabricated for the sofa and chair and trimmed in red velvet.

Above the fireplace is a two-way mirror TV. As much as I dislike televisions hung over the fireplace, I was pleased with the way we were able to disguise it.  Just like some do, at first, with a love child.

The full gallery of photos: http://bedroomsbybrynne.com/portfolios/west-village-story/

 

Cast-Iron Plate Warmer Turned Bar Curio:

 

Art Deco Floor Lamp:

Zig Zag and Floral Printed Fabric:                                                                                                                                            

Pegasus-Inspired Damask with Red Velvet Trim:

Mirror TV:

Chandelier and Machine Leg Farm Table:

Interview with Lorena Gaxiola

Lorena Gaxiola’s bedding and tableware are so fun to work with. Here is one project where I was able to use her bedding.

http://www.lorenagaxiola.com/bedrooms-by-brynne/

Small Batch Interior Project for SLM

https://vimeo.com/86709989

 

The Man Behind the MasterCard Logo

My Papaw, born (Norman) Earl Picker, designed the original concept of the MasterCard logo for Jim Hoag in the late 1960′s: the concept, artistry, and typography of two intersecting circles, one red-orange and one ochre-colored, originally coined “Master Charge, The Interbank Card.” This was during the MAD MEN era. It was a time of countless stiff drinks, easy women and easier men, late nights entertaining while sealing deals with clients, and high-pressure deadlines, under-the-gun.  Only, Earl Picker wasn’t working on Madison Avenue.  He was a commercial artist working on a drafting table from his Lindell Blvd. art studio in Midtown St. Louis, Missouri.

Picker, or “Pic,” as he was known, started off designing light fixtures for Day-Brite Lighting. He then entered the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers and was sent to clear way for the groundwork of the ALCAN Highway, connecting the Lower 48 to Alaska.  From there, he was sent to start combat training. He would finally arrive on Utah beachhead in Normandy, France in WWII.  In late 1944, he fought in the early part of The Battle of the Bulge.

It was his former boss from Day-Brite Lighting, Leo G. Stahlhut, who was approached while working at Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force in the Trianon Palace Hotel in Versailles, France. He was asked to recommend an experienced cartographer to hand-draw war maps and he recommended Cpl. Earl Picker, Serial No. 37131253. He lied about him being a cartographer, but he must have known from experience that Pic was a talented artist who could handle the job. Pic told a story of receiving his transfer orders: Mid-transit, he peered out the window on the train to Versailles, only to see an awful-looking soldier. A worn, haggard man. Then he realized that the soldier he saw was his own reflection. He would go on to create maps for the war, as a cartographer, for General Dwight D. Eisenhower, who also called him “Pic.”

 

After the war, Pic returned to St. Louis and worked for Day-Brite Lighting once again before starting his own company, Earl Picker Art Studio. He would go on to not only design the original MasterCard logo, but also design the original Visa and Enterprise (street “e”) logos. He did work for FABICK CAT (Caterpillar Inc.), Cadbury, Hussmann, Anheuser Busch, Emerson Electric, and more. There were no big payouts for logo design, yet it was still a decent living.  The type of handwork artistry that could, for example, make a drawing of a red, perfectly looped bow, look just like a photograph.

Pic’s children remember him working constantly in his studio. It was a messy job to make commercial art at the time. With everything by hand, when multiple changes and corrections needed to be made, it was literally back to the drawing board. Vellum and trace paper, graphite and charcoal pencils, RICH ART Watercolors, French curves, green templates, paintbrushes, markers, and samples of every Pantone color filled his art studio. He would pull many all-nighters, working through to the following day on projects for clients. It was in his studio, while working on the MasterCard logo, that he told his kids, “When you go to the store, you’ll be able to use a plastic card with a code instead of money.” His daughters remember him showing them logo options and asking them, “What do you think? Which one do you like?”

Our family believes that Leo Stahlhut, with his twist of the truth, likely saved Pic’s life. That, in turn, allowed Picker to have seven children with his wife Bethel after the war and a strong, growing legacy.

Earl Picker died in 1982 at the age of 63. His portfolio is missing and remains a bit of a controversy, though many members of the family would love to see it. Our immediate family has only a few remaining pieces from his body of work, yet his children still have memories of seeing his projects. I’m lucky enough to display his original Master Charge, Interbank Card prototype on the wall of our W 68th St. apartment in New York.

Anytime I see a MasterCard logo, I’m reminded of him: how much working and living goes into simple design, creating symbols, and the power of how far it can sometimes travel.

 

Grue and Boats in Unknown Waters

I’ve had this little French armchair for quite a while before finding an Austrian toile with a watercolor scene: entwining cherry blossom trees meeting a bridge, a boat, and a pagoda set on a rolling coastline. The name of the toile is Aomori and in Japanese and Ainu languages it literally means “blue forest,” however it could possibly be translated also as “green forest.” Aomori refers to a small forest on a hill that fishermen used as a landmark near the town, which is a mountainous area on the coast in the northern Tohoku region of Japan.

I’m fascinated by this idea of a forest that could be considered both blue and green. Come to find out, in many languages there aren’t separate terms for certain colors on the visible spectrum, such as blue and green. Grue, although may not be an actual English word for color, has been used to describe the paradox to translate certain languages usage of words that can mean both green and blue. If you think about water that can appear blue and green or blue-green.

I rarely shop for myself and if I do it’s usually by accident, while looking for something else for a client. This painting is a find from one of my favorite antique shops by an artist marked “Nettle,” whom I  haven’t been able to find any information on. Considering the thatched roof in the background, it could be a setting located somewhere in Scandinavia.

What drew me into the work were these two main sailboats: one blue and one green. One boat is docked, while the other boat appears to be either also docked, headed back in, or headed out. Only Nettle knows. However, I do enjoy attempting interpretation, imagining these blue and green sailboats traveling off, into unknown waters, to find ancient islands with grue forests.

Art Direction for ABC Makeover

 

Last night, Extreme Makeover Weight Loss Edition aired on ABC, the episode I art directed for the makeover for Chantell’s apartment in Elgin, IL.

It brought back memories of working last year, driving back and forth from Chicago in stop-and-go traffic, in an un-airconditioned black car, during one of the hottest damn summers on record.

Little did we know when we started the makeover that her building would soon be condemned.

In the meantime, though, there was a lot of good news: I was working on transforming a home for someone who would lose nearly half her body weight over the course of a year, and she would work to finish her degree. That environment had to be motivating.

After hearing more about Chantell from the producers, I knew that I wanted to create something lively and colorful to accentuate the original fireplace detail—as well as her warm personality. This room had to be more than just a bed; it had to also be a gym, a functioning kitchen and a place for Chantell to kick off her shoes and sit down after a long day’s workout.

I wanted to do a collection of dreamcatchers over her bed, so I had them custom made by Sara from Seven Wishes Dream Catchers. Dreamcatchers were originally an Ojibwe concept. Nightmares begone. Manifest dreams.

The colors added in the room made a huge difference. Paint for the space was by Devine Color, which is a refreshing paint to work with since it’s a rather creamy consistency that covers well. There are so many fun palates to choose from. We got serious with the color and used the pale yellow “Devine Butter” on the ceiling, “Devine Poppy” in the kitchen and “Devine Mo’ Pink” in the bedroom/gym/living room. The thick crown moldings, baseboards and architectural trim were painted in “Devine Rino,” a dark, brownish black.

Thankfully, many businesses in the Chicago area contributed to the studio apartment as well. Antique chairs, gold French mirror, floor lamp and lingerie chest were found at The Find, where Julie, the owner, is an absolute delight. I love so many things that she gathers and assembles in her stores.

The metal café chairs and ironwork piece, which I added as a diamond cap or crown to the graffiti graphic was sourced at Architectural Artifacts, where I also found four antique tile pieces that made two pink bows. I had the bows framed as an art piece and hung them over the lingerie chest, where the mason jars of marbles represented lbs lost.

Fabric for upholstering the chairs was sourced from Architex International, as were the yellow sheers and stipe draperies that I sewed up for the windows. The plush hemp and silk rug is from Organic Looms, which sources incredible custom rugs from Nepal and India. You must feel these rugs under your feet and explore the possibilities for your own space.

Kristie Kahns created the gorgeous photograph of a flamenco dancer, an action shot, capturing an animated shawl mid-twirl. The energy of this shot adds to the motivation of the space and acts as a reminder to dance and keep on moving. The goldish-silver frame for the print was done by Frames Graphics Studio—this place does a super job and is very affordable.

Many people helped make this little studio makeover possible, including two remarkable neighbors living below and hands from the rockstar field producers who brought me on.

I’m glad that Chantell did the work to create her self-transformation. As we all are hopefully opening up, reflecting, learning, risking and moving toward something, the known and unknown. So when the building is being condemned, you keep on keeping on.

For me, reality is still more interesting than Reality TV. If only you could capture THAT. Better said, I’ll continue to live it.

For those who missed the episode, check it out.

Summer Margaritas and Guacamoles

 

This balmy summer weather is here to stay for a while and many are seeking refreshing drink and snack ideas for their July 4th celebrations. Luckily I have the perfect go-to book for entertaining options.

This past year I had the opportunity to work with renowned Chef Rick Bayless and Deann Groen Bayless, prop-styling, plating and showcasing recipes and unique cocktails for their book release, Frontera: Margaritas, Guacamoles and Snacks by Rick Bayless. Not only did they entrust me in their home to edit through their impressive tabletop collection of earthenware, Frankoma Pottery and the like, I got to see their outdoor garden and kitchen, including soapstone countertops, where they shoot Mexico-One Plate at a Time.

I appreciate Rick and Deann’s humble nature and their sincere love for the food, culture, and people of Mexico. I can also appreciate the many twists on making Margaritas interesting for every season.

Paging through the book to come up with ideas, the alluring photography of the finished concoctions, shot by Paul Elledge, reminds me of all the tasty sips and yummy bites that I had during our photo shoot.

It’s about time that I try some of these recipes out for myself, for my Central Park picnic with Frisbee and friends. I invite you to check out the recipes in his book, which can help add a kick to your day off.

A few of my favorites: Pitcher recipe for a Peach (or Mango)-Basil Margarita, Black Currant-Rhubarb Margarita and Roasted Tomatillo Guacamole with Crunchy Chicharrón. And don’t miss the Citrusy Jicama and Watermelon with Toasted Sesame recipe.

Convergence in Hell’s Kitchen

It was six years ago that I met a man out in a bar in Brooklyn Heights, New York. He drew me into a question for the patrons, while I was ordering a round of drinks. I answered and that was the beginning of one of many conversations. It would have been an entirely ordinary way to have met if I hadn’t been there with my grandmother, celebrating her 85th birthday, whom later that night taught him the fox trot. We were all out until the morning light crept in over the Heights and it was time to go back to Chicago. It was a chance meeting that would mark the pivot of our becomingness.

But we would both have to wait almost five years before he would see me one evening, from the back of a cab, entering Regents Park. I wasn’t there in the park then, but he did indeed manage to find me, once again. With perhaps some help from the Gods and credit to ourselves, we didn’t hold back.  I was finally ready to let this someone, brilliantly beautiful, in.

After nearly seven months of writing and reading love letters from my side of Chicago, a trip to London on Randy Ave, rambling across the green heaths and moorlands of The Peak District admist Bronze Age stone formations, and tuning into a deep comforting voice across the ocean that could only be my best friend; I now find myself in Hell’s Kitchen, New York, smiling and playing frisbee in Central Park, in a convergence that is our sui generis.

Here, in our living room, is where some of our art comes together: A Dempsy vs. Firpo, possibly the best fight of the first half of the 20th century, Apsaroke Indians, Waiting For the Signal, Henry Miller on his bicycle, Hunter S. Thompson smoking on the beach, a Leroy Neiman polaroid art copy of a painting of Vegas ladies, Prada in Marfa Texas, a three dimensional Roman Colosseum, Frazier, Ali, Liston and Patterson, a photo of the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, a preserved Exile on Main St.album, more American Indians in canoes off the coast of Washington State during sundown, my family’s saloon on the mudded streets of Broadway, St. Louis, a cobbler shop in the Netherlands and a Parisian bicyclist, images of rural Illinois meets the suburbs, an unleashing of butterflies from a man’s chest, flecks of gold and Free Air, all mingling with us.

From here, who knows what we will find together to add to our collection or where we will find ourselves in love. What I do know, is that I’m with someone that I can find beauty, art, and truth in everyday life with. And at the end of the day, here’s where we both become further encouraged.

More images of the art and design elements of this work in progress….



The Deco frame sofa was finished as I was loading the truck for New York and I had one word for it once I saw it–badass. It was upholstered with three fabrics that I had been saving for three different upholstering projects, which I decided to use all together in making this one piece for our apartment.  I enjoy the labyrinth black and white graphic against the warm stripes. The glass beaded, copper end table is also an upholstered piece that holds a brass lamp from my late grandfather; similar tailored silk shades flank the sofa. Reflections of the copper beads, brass, glass and dashes of gold play up the room and call for many candle lit evenings.