gaston bachelard: “the poetics of space” + desire paths.

Sometimes remembering is even sweeter than learning. I first read about Desire Paths in an endlessly fascinating book by French scientist, philosopher, and poet (not a three-way combo you come across every day) Gaston Bachelard. Dedicated to the study of the poetry and philosophy of science, Bachelard’s 1958 book “The Poetics of Space” looks not at the origins or technicalities of architecture, but how the lived-in and human experience of architecture affects and shapes it’s development.

One of these experiences creates a Desire Path -”a term in landscape architecture used to describe a path that isn’t designed but rather is worn casually away by people finding the shortest distance between two points”. Just as Bachelard examines, it shows how the human use of an architectural or pre-determined flow through space will sometimes over-ride the intentions of it’s creator. Just like nature and evolution itself, life will always find the most expedient route to what it wants…

Also known as a Desire Line, I love this because it’s such an undeniable, physical interpretation of something so ethereal: “desire”. Yet you can’t argue with the solid proof of the path; the man told us to walk here, but human will chose to walk here. We were given concrete, and we chose the grass and earth instead. And so many followed that the human path was clearly worn in; sometimes it almost seems like they’re challenging the concrete paths close-by just by their very existence. Not as crisp and laid out, but more confident in that it was created in experience, and not by design. Plus, just the name itself proves that’s there’s always poetry in the most unexpected places. “Desire Path”…

This whole memory of Bachelard came up when I stumbled on a Flickr group dedicated to pictures documenting Desire Paths around the world:

Sometimes new concepts unexpectedly burst into existence all around you as soon as you tune your brain in to realize it. Now that you “know” about Desire Paths, you’ll start to see them everywhere. One day you’ll be walking along and see those little trails of history criss-crossing the land and say “oh, that’s where someone followed their desire”.

Speaking of finding poetry in the everyday, Bachelard himself said “Poetry is one of the destinies of speech… One would say that the poetic image, in its newness, opens a future to language. The words of the world want to make sentences”.

monster.com: “legs”.

BBDO New York has been doing some ridiculously good work for Monster lately. “Legs” is one more step in that direction. (haha. get it? legs… step! ah, just watch the fucking commercial…)

(Agency: BBDO New York)

metro de madrid: best transit ads… ever.

I live in Toronto, a city where the only thing worse than the pathetic joke that is the Toronto Transit Commission is the hideous mockery that is it’s own lame advertising (“Ride the Rocket” anyone? Perhaps, if I had to wait 25 minutes for a rocket that would then short-turn with no explanation and only get me half-way to where I need to go – then, I guess, I’d be riding a rocket. The TTC is more like “Ride the Dinghy”? “Ride the Turtle”? “Ride your tax dollars down the drain”?) I hate the TTC and will go on about this all day; so don’t get me started, don’t even get me started.

My hate is not alleviated when you see the stunning work being done by another major transit company – Metro de Madrid. These are two of the best commercials I’ve ever seen – in my entire life. I want to fly to Spain tonight and ride the subway until I fall asleep or fall in love or get hit on or simply transcend into a higher state of spiritual conciousness – because these ads have proven to me that’s how completely fucking awesome the Madrid subway is.

They’re both so good I’m not sure which one to lead with. The first, “Transparante”, is simply one of the most well-filmed, visually-arresting ads I’ve ever seen. And, listen up TTC, it’s for a subway. This would never make it here, it’s far too ethereal and cool for the majority of North Americans to accept as advertising…

(Agency: Contrapunto Madrid. Director: Gabe Ibanez. Production: Peliculas Ponder.)

That’s not all. Why only have one mind-bendingly good ad when you can have two? Before this, I would never have thought I’d get misty-eyed at a subway commerical. This spot, “A Little History”, changed that:

(Agency: McCann Erickson Group Spain)

agata jaworska: made in transit + gropak.

One of my favourite things in the world are those Boston leaf lettuces – the ones that come with the little piece of moist dirt wrapped around the roots so that the lettuce is actually still growing a little. Despite the fact that it’s travelled from Boston in a plastic box, it tastes fresher and more alive than something that’s been totally separated from it’s growth source.

I’m also assuming Boston lettuce comes from Boston, but that could be a big assumption.

An evolution in the growing idea of sustainability during transit is the Gropak for Made in Transit. Designed by Poland-born, Canada-raised, and now Netherlands-based designer Agata Jaworska, this packaging prototype is designed so that the oyster mushrooms inside would actually grow during shipping and be harvested by the consumer just before eating. Fresh. We all know, even though we don’t like to think about it, that food slowly starts to die as soon as it’s harvested, so Made in Transit looks at ways to create growth during the entire supply chain process.

Agata’s a little bit brilliant, and she’s even got a funky little vid to explain the whole scheme behind Made in Transit:

juice salon: “escalator”.

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen ambient escalator stuff – though usually it involves some kind of toilet paper roll or the idea of something unfolding and getting longer. I like this because it’s a bit different and because it looks like your feet will get sucked into this dude’s brain.

(Agency: Rediffusion DY&R – Mumbai)

craig kanarick: rock made.

I don’t exactly know what it is about photographing candy that makes me so giddy and excited, it just does. If you’ve got high-res high-art snaps of shellac-covered candies, then I want to buy them. In the same vein as one of my fave Canadian art photographers, Liz Wolfe, comes the purely awesome New York candyfreak Craig Kanarick.

At Rock Made, the site he shares with his wife, artist and author Rebecca Odes, you can check out the full range of his candy close-ups. His intensely zoomed-in photos are beautiful, structural, memory-inducing, and fun. It’s like you can feel the glucose seeping, through osmosis, into your eyeballs. He constructs modern candy landscapes and explores not just the immediate joy created by the candy itself, but (oh….get this) the shapes and colours created by the symmetry and natures of the candies themselves.

I would sell my first born for a series of Craig Kanarick prints. And at prices ranging from $850 to $2500 per print, I’d pretty much have to. I especially would for some of the works from his 2004 series – behold “Green Candies I”, “Purple Candies I”, “Yellow Candies I”, “Red Candies I”, “Blue Candies I”, and, perhaps shockingly, “Orange Candies I”. I love them and I want them and I deserve them. Damn it.

Picture a pure white wall, expansive and architectural and leading to a window, with six of his colour-based candy studies generously leading you into the sunlight…

florentijn hofman: rubber duck + signpost 5 + musk rat.

I first noticed Dutch artist Florentijn Hofman for “Beukelsblue”, where, just like his compatriot Henf Hofstra who painted an entire city street, he doused an entire city block of buildings in Rotterdam bright cotton-candy carcinogenic blue.

What is up with the Dutch painting everything they can get their hands on blue? It’s like their favourite thing; They can’t get enough of it. Anyway, I love them dearly because their art is just so gloriously freakishly random and Hofman is no different. He just seems to have the power to take seemingly ludicrous and all-together quite possibly pointless idea bubbles and convert them into reality. For this I admire him to no end. Case in point: 2007’s “Rubber Duck”.

He floated a gigantic rubber duck down the Loire River in France. By gigantic, I mean this fucker is 26 metres tall. That’s 85 feet. Plus the artist’s description on his site basically fills me with glee: “People have gathered and watch in amazement as a giant yellow Rubber Duck approaches. The spectators are greeted by the duck, which slowly nods its head. The Rubber Duck knows no frontiers, it doesn’t discriminate people and doesn’t have a political connotation.” So true – if you’re weary of the whole Obama vs. Hillary debate, just look to the duck!

In 2006, Hofman also gave the world “Signpost 5″. A celebration for the the 5th anniversary of the Schiermonnikoog Chamber Music Festival (I wish I was making that up, but I’m not – you read it right, Schiermonnikoog bitches…), he envisioned a series of three huge grand pianos washed up onto the shore. Lucky beachcombers could then explore, climb about, picnic on, or even sleep inside the beached pianos.

I think we can all agree that his pièce de résistance, however, is 2004’s “Musk Rat”. Simply, he built a 12 metre tall thatched musk rat reclining against a life-sized cottage. Why? Why the hell not! The musk rat is lampin’, y’all. Only in the Netherlands…

chevrolet: “blonde”, “brown”, + “grey”.

I really like these new print ads for Chevrolet’s Official Service Centre. The oddest thing about them is that this proves how socially engrained pictures of freakish over-operated celebs have become. If it wasn’t for libelous nature of the US, these ads could just as easily be Jocelyene Wildenstein or Mickey Rourke or Meg Ryan or any other pseudo-celebrity who’s had more attention for their botched face-jobs than any sort of actual accomplishment or achievement.

Besides that, “Blonde”, “Brown”, and “Grey” (aptly named) are just really effective ads:

(Agency: McCann Erickson)

axe pulse: “earthquake” + axe lynx: “because you never know when”.

It’s no secret that I’m a huge critic of Unilever’s soulless corporate hypocrisy for how they manage their Axe and Dove brands. That’s why it’s really frustrating for me that Axe, all around the world, has some of the most visually-interesting, cinematic advertising around. I don’t use Axe, I abhor Unilver, but I adore most of Axe’s advertising. I’m torn, and that’s just how it is.

This Axe ad aired in Argentina in 2007, and it’s kick ass:

(Agency: VegaOlmosPonce – Buenos Aires)

This ad, for Lynx 24-7 (the Axe brand is known as Lynx in the UK, Ireland, New Zealand, and Australia – but it’s all the same shit), is a bit more stereotypical of Axe (the models are stereotypically hotter, they’ve just had a one night stand, Axe gets you major tail, yadda yadda) but the reason it’s interesting is because I watched it. I was curious, it had me to the end, then I realized it was Axe. Damn them Damn them Damn them. This ad is older, from 2005, but won big time accolades and festivals world-wide rushed to throw awards at it. Why? Because, feminism aside, sexism aside, this is a really effective ad.

(Agency: Bogle Bartle Hegarty – London)

christopher brosius: i hate perfume.

I’ve discovered my new favourite artist. He’s not a painter or designer or photographer – he’s a Perfumer. There’s almost too much to love on Christopher Brosius‘ website – I Hate Perfume.

These uni-sex scents are for people with an imagination. Instead of making a bottle look like an obelisk or a flower or a penis and hoping that pictures of prostrate models will make you want to buy it, his packaging is stylish. His site is minimal, but passionate. His small bottles have labels that look like they’ve been individually typed by hand on an old typewriter. Each scent has a complete story – not that sort of “I am elegant because I say I am” ubiquitous nothingness of mainstream perfumes – but an actual emotion-inducing tale.

He’s also got a range of “accords”, single-note scents that can be individually blended to create any scent you want. Elementary in both name and nature, I’m having a hard time not buying them all and going to town on my wrists and neck…

Like he says himself on the site, Brosius’ is an artist. These are scents that are actually discovered; their nascent point is emotional. To explore the site, it’s almost like he’s channeling – just as any good artist he’s creating something simply because it demands to be created.

And not necessarily from the stuff you’d imagine. His goal is to create true scents, ones that evoke real memories, and so ingredients are honest and direct. Notes like “wet sand”, “green tomato vine”, “old leather suitcases”, “dirt”, and “fresh cut hay” help create the true, organic, and almost visceral nature of his scents. At his perfume gallery in Brooklyn, open to the public, you can visit his studio and see exactly how he works, how the scents are created, and find out why “the point of the perfumes I create is to offer you an experience you never thought possible…”. I love this guy.

As with any full-realized art, the names of his scents are just as intuitive and emotional as what they represent: “Just Breathe”, “Cradle of Light”, “Memory of Kindness”, “In the Summer Kitchen”, “Eternal Return”… how can you not want this stuff?

My fave is “At The Beach 1966″. I dare you to resist a description like this…”The prime note in this scent is Coppertone 1967 blended with a new accord I created especially for this perfume – North Atlantic. Imagine it’s about 4 o’clock on a golden summer afternoon and you’ve been at the beach all day rubbing yourself with Coppertone suntan lotion – but Coppertone as it existed in the 60’s, not quite as it is now… You walk into the surf as the waves break on the shore and, bending down to touch the surf, you notice the smell of your warm skin and of the salt water that seems so cold by comparison. It has just the faintest hint of watermelon rind…”

C’mon! How good is that? When I die, please douse my corpse in “At The Beach 1966″ and send me to the Crematorium.