After two long days of traveling from Tokyo, I finally landed in Cape Town on New Year’s Day. I ‘celebrated’ on a flight from Addis Ababa, Ethiopia to Cape Town, and by ‘celebrate’ I mean I had a nightmare that the plane was plummeting from the sky. Ah, fun times. It took me a couple of days to get acclimated but I’m back on schedule and excited about being in Cape Town for a bit. The weather is lovely, there is a lot to see and they have a vibrant arts scene. For a relatively young place, there is a lot of critical history that will be fun to explore from the inside.
I have been creating small pieces as color studies for larger works when I get back to my studio in New York. How is the essence of a place captured in color? This is one of the questions I’m asking as I conduct these studies. Color plays an integral role in how we perceive ideas, our memory and is tied to emotional and psychological experiences. Being intentional about color is important to me because it helps me to be effective in how I guide the design.
Bangkok, Thailand—’Tis the season for staying up late writing final papers. And that’s basically all I did in the 3 weeks I spent in Bangkok. This is a snapshot of every December and May: late nights reading, writing, snacking. Fortunately, the weather was great! It was around 85 degrees and consistently sunny (perfect conditions for studying).
In October, Thailand’s King Bhumibol Adulyadej, the world’s longest-reigning monarch, died after 70 years as head of state and everywhere I went, I noticed memorials in his honor. I visited the Bangkok Art and Culture Centre where there was an exhibition in his honor, which consisted of thousands of Instagram photos posted by Thai citizens to commemorate their king. It was a heartfelt display of connectedness, rooted in artistic expression. Most of the photos were portraits of the King at different stages of life. At the end of the exhibition, I noticed a large mosaic-like structure of the King’s image, made up of individual Instagram images. It was a great example of art and technology being used to help people express themselves during the healing process.
Another memorial for King Bhumibol.
Bold colors everywhere.
A condiment at my local restaurant that I didn’t have the courage to try, but I thought it looked nice.
Lately, I have been thinking a lot about the written word as art. The only good thing about not being able to read Japanese is that I can look at it from a purely aesthetic view, not assigning any meaning to words (a skill that is completely unhelpful when I need directions or have questions about what’s on a menu.) As frustrating as it is to not be able to communicate, I relish in the fact that I can appreciate the language in a way that a person who is literate in Japanese can’t.
This week I started learning Shodo, or Japanese calligraphy. I’ve noticed that it’s quite calming, even if you’re not very good at it (like me). I’m reminded of how I learned to write the English alphabet in kindergarten and first grade. We would practice writing each letter, one by one, over and over. You don’t realize all of the components that you had to master with your first language until you try learning another language.
Shodo requires patience and intention. Starting with making the ink, every action is purposeful. As I was practicing today, my teacher reminded me to breathe and be calm while creating the characters, which is funny because it’s the same advice that I give myself when I’m trying to speak Japanese.
The first day in a new place is always exciting and a bit anxiety inducing. I like to get familiar with a city by learning the public transportation, i.e. getting lost on the train. By that measure, my first day in Tokyo was a success! I managed to get lost but I also learned a couple of ways to get from my home base to points of interest.
The first day is also important for me to observe myself observing the culture…meta. Everything is new that first day and because I am usually pretty quick to adapt, I don’t get do-overs for experiencing things for the first time. For instance, I had an ‘aha’ moment when I noticed that the steering wheel is on the right side of the car in Tokyo. I started to think about the implications of this, like the proper side to walk on a sidewalk. I’m sure these things are connected. By the way, you’re supposed to walk on the left side of the sidewalk.
Transitioning into a new city also means seeing art. It’s my safe place. So I visited the National Museum of Modern Art, which was beautiful and they had lots of great works on display. There was a special exhibition by German artist, Thomas Ruff, on display but I opted not to see it because it cost ¥1,600 (which is about $15 USD).
After checking out the museum, I had lunch in the restaurant. I don’t typically have meals at museums because it tends to be expensive. This place was no different. What was different was the quality, flavor and presentation of the food. Absolutely impeccable. In my experience, you usually sacrifice one of those three things. It was a set menu and there were several courses, each more delicious than the last. My only complaint is that the portions were small.
I believe in the idea of art being in everything, especially in the mundane, and everyday things. I wonder what are the quality of life implications for creating artistic experiences in things like food presentation. This idea is not new, as evidenced by the number of fancy restaurants in the world. But I don’t think these experiences should be reserved for people who are able to spend a lot of money for them. Art is in everything and should be appreciated and enjoyed by all people.
Speaking of food and perfection, you should see the documentary, Jiro Dreams of Sushi. You will have an appreciation for the idea of creating in an ‘everyday’ context.
São Paulo, Brazil—Denise Milan is a multidisciplinary artist from Brazil whose work has been exhibited internationally. She graciously agreed to meet with me in her São Paulo studio to talk about her creative process and her evolution as an artist.
Here is a snippet from our conversation:
MG: How has your work evolved since you started and now?
DM: Well, in the beginning, I was more naive, eh? It was drawing the sunset, little ducks. It didn’t have a real connection or it didn’t have a message. But I felt I could interpret some things and I enjoyed making art because that gave me a sense of concentrating in another way towards whatever I was interested in that moment and that in a way kind of separated me from the day to day life. Sure I loved the day to day life, but I also loved to dive inside penetrating my own curiosity.
I had to be picky about selecting materials for my ‘traveling studio’. The sole criterion was low-maintenance. It was a tough decision and I’m not even sure what I’ll create with these things, but here’s what I brought: