What passes for work these days

Some months ago, We here at WuW transitioned from traditional commercial design work to, shall we say, a more time-eccentric, evidence-based direct interaction sort of endeavor.

 That's an extremely obfuscating way to say -- Retired.
Retirement is its own reward but it comes with some costs. Daily interactions with extremely talented colleagues, for instance, are no more.  A steady supply of tasks, the measure of Progress, Success - those are handed off to capable young practitioners eager and ready to make their marks.

 Now there is time for coffee, time for contemplation of what, exactly, constitutes Work. 
Are we still working? 

With more time each day to choose exactly what one wants to do, the ability to slow down and Look at surroundings becomes important. The ability to See life as it actually is.

This has led quite naturally to the hand-eye coordination exercise of sketching.  It's a great way to slow down, to see the texture and detail of the city, to observe, free of commercial pressure to get it Right, do it Well.

We find that we're seeing parts of our world in new ways, picking up images and viewpoints that weren't readily available in the workaday world.

So far, we like what we're seeing.

Not Afraid to Use It

When we started WuW a few years back, we envisioned an interactive conversation. Creative folks would expound on how their work spaces came to be, what they liked best or least, and why it works well for them. While we had some initial success with this format, it gradually morphed into something else, a collection of unusual jobs and work spaces.

Leave it to the New York Times to deliver a short, neat feature that does exactly what we longed for way back when. A profile of Paola Antonelli, Senior Curator  of architecture and design for  MOMA, expounds upon the features of her workspace (and her working style) in a way that reaffirms what we love about this format. Here are a few gems from from Ms. Antonelli:

"It is better to have privacy, but if I were to chose between a cubicle and completely open space, I would choose the open space. The illusion of privacy is worse than no privacy."

"Design is to be used. I would never have it just to contemplate it. That would be an aberration."

"What is important is that whatever kind of office people work in, they have the chance to customize their space. People must make their nest."

To copy much more might be plagiarism. You should go HERE to see the original story. We'd like to think we had an original idea, though.

Waiting for the Big Kahuna in Berlin

 Meet Ben the Bavarian. Ben came to Berlin, a city of opportunity, with at least two big ideas. The first idea was this: serve Hawaiian style coffee. The second, maybe more significant idea was this: serve drive-thru customers.
Ben is a cheerful, energetic fellow. He notes that his is the ONLY drive-thru coffee stand in all of Germany. This first-to-market stance excites him, though it hasn't yet  and seems to have awakened the customer base. Ben remains undaunted. Germans love their cars and love their coffee. It's only a matter of time, he believes, and when they come round he will be ready.

Plenty of room - no waiting

 Ben's stand is located in the Mitte, a rapidly developing district in East Berlin. Though there are vacant parcels to either side of his shop, it's very likely that will change soon.







The young, creative class that moved to East Berlin over the past decade and enlivened the city with imaginative pop-up art and homespun commercial ventures is rapidly being displaced by large-scale corporate development.

The huge, rumbling development industry is rolling into all corners of the city, assembling large plots of land for huge mixed use building projects. It's only a matter of time before Ben's little shop is displaced for something much larger, sleeker and more expensive. In the mean time, Ben will cheerfully brew you a cup of Kona coffee with a coconut milk foam. Prost!

A River Runs Through It: Bridge-tending in the Delta

Paintersville Bridge, Sacramento Delta

 Rashid will tell you he has the easiest job in the world. He is a shy man, quiet, not prone to look you in the eye, and he likes his solitude. Rashid is a drawbridge operator in the Sacramento Delta. His job is to sit in the small, tidy shack hanging off the side of the bridge and wait for tall boats that may come up or downriver.

A boat captain will signal - either by phone or radio - and Rashid starts raising the bridge. It's a by-the-book process, starting with an alarm bell to stop auto traffic. Step by step, barricades are lowered, clearances confirmed, bolts unlocked, motors engaged and in a couple of minutes the bridge is raised to allow the yacht, high-masted schooner, barge or river boat to pass under.

 But most of the day is spent sitting and watching the river roll by. There's time for reading, writing or studying. There's also plenty of time for loafing, watching television and eating. It takes some discipline to avoid these temptations.The office is surprisingly pleasant, with clear view of the river and of the bridge roadway.

 Approaching the Paintersville bridge, I had romantic visions of writers like Jack Kerouac, Gary Snyder or Jim Dodge sitting in lookout stations on Desolation Peak, in splendid isolation, creating their American classic novels and poetry. The difference with a bridge is that you are not exactly isolated. Every car or truck that crosses announces itself loudly and with plenty of vibration.

 The Cal Trans District 4 operates six bridges in the Sacramento/San Joaquin delta. Paintersville, Steamboat, Isleton, Mokoloumne, Rio Vista and the big gold beast in downtown Sacramento. Counties operate few more.Most of the delta bridges are the Bascule type. They pivot upwards, thanks to immense concrete counterbalances. A few are lift bridges or turn bridges - which operate exactly as they sound.

There is an undeniable appeal in the solitary profession of bridge-tender. Our world is overrun with data and congestion, over-saturated with complexity and multi-tasking. imagine the simplicity of walking down that narrow plank path to your little shack hanging off the side of a bridge, knowing you only have one direct, simple responsibility. That's something to day dream about while stuck in traffic, eh?

They say there's always magic in the air...

New York is expensive - one thin dime won't even shine your shoes. Poor creative types are always striving to live there - if you can make it there, you'll make it anywhere. Here's just such an architect, managing nicely in less space than it takes to park a Mini Cooper.

Admittedly, we'd rather have a bit more room than this, but applaud Luke for making it so.





Architects used to require layout space for plans that would eclipse this apartment size. The advance of laptop computers allows Luke to work where he lives, on the smallest of table tops.

You can see more (though there's not much more to see) by going here-
Luke Tyler's 78 Square Foot NYC Apartment

Working from a Boat

Measuring the Heartbeat of a City

David Byrne always seems to be at least a step or two ahead of the curve. He's not an urban planner, but he sure could teach a thing or two to those who are, simply from his powers of observation. His book "Bicycle Diaries" holds great insights gathered while pedaling his bike in cities around the world.

Recently he reported from London that the tempo of that city seems to be about 122 beats per minute. How did he get that? Some lightweight field recording gear, a walk around the city with a simple video camera, sound and video editing, a little studio music overlay and viola - a lovely little piece of urban art.

There is more to this story and you can find it HERE.
David Byrne is a well-known creative genius, founder of the Talking Heads, writer and keen observer.

Wherever you go, there you are.

Looking at the Creative Caves where people do their work, we are drawn to those who buck convention and do it wherever they happen to land. No ergonomic studies, market research, triple-net leases, office furniture, telephone systems, alarms, professional liability insurance, ad nauseum. Some people simply leap into the void and find their calling. And it's thrilling when it works, as in the case of Alison Turner.

It seems Alison was a slave to her Blackberry and the treadmill of unseemly corporate life. In spite of the great pay, she threw off the yoke and hit the road, stumbled alone in the wilderness for a time, then found herself a new life's purpose. It's a beautiful story - maybe a fantasy for most - but there is wisdom in striving to live up to this simple axiom:

"Every day, try to do something that you love."







You can read all bout Alison and see her great photos here:  http://www.alisonslife.com/

Staffs & Chaffs

Doug & his Tres

Doug Pauly draws creative inspiration from many sources. A working musician for three decades, he is a gifted jazz guitarist, a skilled transcriber and a great teacher. We asked about his work space and got a very complex response that raised more questions than it answered - so we decided to investigate further.

Doug & his grass weaving

 For decades the New Yorker magazine's weekly night-life calendar has famously cautioned, "Musicians live complicated lives..." This is true in Sacramento as well as in the Big Apple. Just try pinning Doug down on his favorite workplace. That might be on a bandstand with a dozen musicians working behind a noted singer; it might be a solo stool in a cool night club; it might be his compact lesson room at the Guitar Workshop; or it might be his cozy little home studio. Then again, it might be the cemetery where he walks the dog and hums little ditties that eventually turn into jazz tunes. OK, too complicated for a simple little blog - let's look at the home studio.

The Home Studio

Doug's studio is comfortable, compact and ergonomically suited to his needs. A Mac computer is front & center, the heart of his transcription operation. He has written charts for hundreds of jazz standards and pop tunes and is sought out by many professional musicians for this specialty.
Custom-built book cases hold decades of accumulated music. There's room for one guitar stand (currently occupied by his "Tres" a guitar-like instrument of Cuban origin), as well as one visitor seat and a bit of recording equipment. And there is his all-important "window on the world" opening to the verdant garden yard. 

The phantom Grass Studio

We took a stroll in the garden where Doug showed me his weaving studio in a converted garage. The guitarist is also a grass weaver! He harvests California native grasses, weeds and grains and transforms them into complex and elegant wall hangings.

Staffs & Measures

Shafts & Grains

It turns out that scoring music and weaving grasses are not so very far apart, artistically speaking. There's a steady measure, rhythm and texture to each kind of art - from a visual viewpoint. And aurally speaking, clear and complex guitar fingerwork blends nicely with the soft rustling of wild grasses.

Doug Pauly is an accomplished musician and weaver residing in Curtis Park, Sacramento. His music can be heard at DOUG PAULY

Letterpress Fetish

Letterpress printing has a cult status among graphic artists. It is mythical, reaching back in time to when printing was a very physical act - before the clicking & dragging disconnect of digital art and web pages.

Paul Shaw from Print magazine recently spent a weekend near Milan with Lucio Passerini, an Italian typographer of some reknown, and he wrote up a nice non-print profile of their visit. What Whereuwork likes so much about this report is the focus on Lucio's workshop - Il Buon Tempo - the physical space where he creates.

Type Banks

My childhood Saturdays were often spent playing in the pressroom of a weekly newspaper. My father was editor, reporter and chief bottle-washer in a pre-offset world. The smells of molten lead, ink-soaked wood and crisp newsprint come rushing back to me, looking at this photo.I long for the physical constructs of the printed word.

Get the full story here - IMPRINT

How Skinny can you go?

Keret House, Warsaw

 With much of this country reeling from McMansion overload, designers have focused on going small for home and office. But Jakub Szczesny takes it to a new level with his Keret House in Warsaw, Poland. It is so small, so narrow that it defies description. We like that he called it an art project and thereby avoided building codes - Art Power! The question remains - how much is too little? Could you really live or work here without flipping out?

Get the full story HERE

Izzy's Funhouse

When the Circus came to Town.

We have heard stories about the wild and playful places where some people work - the Google and Pixar palaces with loads of kids toys for grownups. They sport foosball tables and basketball hoops to fool with while they wax creative. Forced fun for a captive audience, these corporate idea mills cannot hold a candle to Izzy's Funhouse.

He's a pinball wizard, that has to be a twist...

 Izzy is an artist and commercial photographer who collects iconic trappings of 20th century American life - such as Halloween masks, paint-by-number kits and pinball machines. It turns out that a photo studio and amusement arcade can coexist quite nicely. Mechanical Pinball and arcade machines reached a zenith of popularity in the 1960's, sucking kid's quarters like slot machines. These were sturdy workhorses, designed for punishing use. Many machines are still in existence, though they now could use some TLC, if not outright rebuilding. Izzy is a handy guy, and so a corner of the photo studio has become a dedicated renovation shop for vintage arcade games.

Pre-circuit board technology

The inside of a vintage pinball machine is a collection of coils, switches, solenoids, lights and levers. This is old-school analog technology at its best. Needlenose pliers, dust brush, tweezers and a soldering iron are the preferred tools here.

The studio is in a nondescript one-story business park, about as anonymous as can be. Izzy says he misses his old Midtown Sacramento studio with its friendly neighbors, restaurants and services in easy walking distance. But more space, better layout and lower rent just make good business sense. Between photo assignments he tinkers with an old wood-rail machine, preparing for the Pacific Pinball Expo in September. It is an enviable creative environment in which to work, with stress relief always right at hand. Eat your heart out, Pixar.

Izzy Schwartz is an artist, commercial photographer and arcade aficionado residing in Sacramento. His work can be found HERE 

Ghost Lab Design Conference 2011

Nova Scotia site of the Ghostlab

Architect Bryan McKay-Lyons has run a summer design/build camp for creative architectural students for the past dozen years. This year, he decided a conference would be a nice change. Esteemed luminaries such as Rick Joy, Glenn Murcutt, Kenneth Frampton and Ted Flato joined nearly 200 others for this June gathering to talk about architecture, sustainability and place. Wouldn't it be something to get an invite to the Ghostlab 2012 conference!

Full story here -
Ghost Lab 2011 | Editorial | Architectural Record

The moveable feast, or nomadic workplace

 

raison d'etre

Russ & Laura are a hard-working couple. They run a cottage industry around bicycle travel and touring, conducting interviews, testing and reviewing bicycle products, creating art and books, making presentations and leading bike tours. Now they are entering the world of video production. And they do all this without an office or a home.

Amtrak as office

In January of 2009 they  " turned in their housekeys "  and hit the road on bicycles, carrying everything they need for living. They make frequent stops along their travels, for impromptu presentations in bike shops, hosting S24O campouts and generally promoting the adventure of bicycle living.

People love to hear their stories

Here's Russ describing their first season on the road:

  "After rambling across the country for 15 months, we feel like we’ve become hardened travelers. The idea of heading back out into nothingness isn’t something we need to steel ourselves against, and the details of life on the road aren’t overwhelming like they were two years ago. Instead of figuring out health insurance or a home for our couch, we can focus on how to structure our work flow on the road so that we can actually accomplish everything we want to do. We feel like we’re able to be much more pro-active in our plans for this next trip, and think about the bigger picture."




In the Spring of 2011, they are hitting the long road once again.  You can follow their progress at Path Less Pedaled. It makes for very interesting reading.

How to be there for more than 1/250 of a second

August Heffner makes the persuasive argument that sketching is a more enriching travel experience than snapshotting (that's my new verb for the day). Extend this beyond vacation travel to many more situations: sketching is self-enriching, old school, luddite, contra-technology.

And what could be wrong with that?

Get the whole story here -
http://www.salon.com/life/imprint/index.html?story=/mwt/feature/2011/05/16/vacation_photos_imprint

A Baker's Dozen

Jodie Chavious is a rare talent in the Sacramento area - a Cordon-Bleu trained pastry chef. She worked at many of the area's top-notch restaurants before happily settling in at Taylor's Kitchen and Taylor's market. Restaurant folks are pretty nomadic by nature, carving out temporary work space where they can find it and sharing with (or surrendering to) others for multiple uses. So it's pretty remarkable - almost luxurious - that Jodie can count on a dedicated patisserie station every work day at 8:00 AM. Come 4:00 PM her space transitions to 'Garde Manger' - salad & cold plate prep - for the evening restaurant shift.

A place for everything; everything in its place

A major 'perq' at Taylor's Kitchen is the view. Most kitchens are dark, hot and stuffy - you can read Anthony Bourdain to learn how frightening many a four-star kitchen can be (you may not want to know). Taylor's, on the other hand, has fresh air, good light and endlessly entertaining views of the Light Rail Station antics across the street. 

A room with a view

First thing Monday morning, Jodie pulls eggs and butter out of the fridge to warm up and heads to the market next door to see what she needs to create. Cookies, cakes, pies, brownies - whatever has sold well over the weekend will need replenishing. Come Wednesday she begins preparing the week's dessert menu for the dining room, using fresh seasonal materials from the market. The best part of the job? Every day is different - the seasonal variety, ebb and flow of demand and special orders keeps it all interesting.

Canine haute cuisine

Adding to the variety, Jodie moonlights baking gourmet dog biscuits. Her  brand, 'Give the Dog a Bone' is available at Taylor's and at fine pet supply stores throughout the Sacramento area. The restaurant is dark Mondays and Tuesdays, so it's a perfect time for the night shift to pump out delectable, high-grade doggie treats.

Swing shift baking crew - woof!

It is remarkable how efficient her tiny kitchen workspace is, serving four distinct functions nearly round the clock. It's truly one of the hardest working spaces in show business.

Jodie Chavious is an Alaska native, dog lover and pastry chef extraordinaire.

Soulcraft Workshop

Jerry is one of the handiest guys I know. By "handy" I mean that he works with his hands; his hands are his principal tools. Jerry builds motorcycles; beautiful, painstakingly detailed custom motorcycles and he is very good at it - evidenced by the Best of Show awards he has received at prestigious West Coast bike shows. 

His shop is equipped with a very nice array of tools, better than your average home garage, but nothing like the exotic playrooms of the TV-star customizers like Orange County Choppers. Still, all that he needs is at hand, and he knows how to use each and every tool - which is more than most of us can say.

The custom motorcycle and hot rod world is full of high-tech consultants and accessorizers, running computer-based mills and lathes to turn massive chunks of alloy into precise, computer-generated parts. It is possible to pick up a Harley-Davidson catalog, check the boxes for themes and color schemes and "create" a bike that passes for custom, without so much as lifting a crescent wrench. But that is not the way it works at Jerry's shop.

He pictures something in his mind's eye, maybe sketches it out in pencil, then sets about creating it by hand, using a band saw, drill press, grinder, polishing wheel and hand tools. He has a loose network of machinists, platers, welders and painters who might be called upon for specific tasks - a community of people with complimentary skills and a common love for handcraft. But the bulk of the creative work flows from Jerry's heart and mind through his hands, shaping the steel, alloy, sheet metal and leather.

 In this age of alienation, virtual reality, shrinking attention spans, disconnects from the how and why of the everyday machines we depend upon, it is reassuring to see someone who actually knows how to hold a tool and make it work. Jerry's shop makes a case for working with your hands.

Jerry Wasemiller lives and works in Yolo County, CA