Lines / Grids / Patterns ZINE

Lines/Grids/Patterns Zine from the Sketchbook Project, designed by the fabulous Flight Design Co. 

The Brooklyn Art Library, home of the Sketchbook Project has just published a series of curated Zines featuring work from artists around the world. I'm thrilled that my sketchbook from 2011 (based on my love of the chairs in Jardin des Tuileries in Paris) was included in the Lines / Grids / Patterns edition.

Get your copy HERE!

Friday Inspiration: Robert Frank's Chairs

When Robert Frank was just starting out as a photographer in Paris he would walk across the Jardin Luxembourg everyday to get to his studio. He became fascinated by the chairs in the garden, "They all seemed to be waiting for something." He started photographing chairs all over the city.

He took hundreds of photographs of chairs, some of which were included in his first handmade photo books 40 Fotos (1946) and Mary's Book (1949, pictured above). They were also included in the photo essay "Speaking of Pictures," in the May 21, 1951 issue of Life Magazine.

Friday Inspiration: timbres d'art

Albrecht Dürer, Self Portrait at 22, 1493

Leonardo Da Vinci, Portrait of  Isabella D'Este, 1500

Amedeo Modigliani, Femme Aux Yeux Bleus (Woman with Blue Eyes), 1918

The last time I was in Paris I found these stamps at the Marche aux Timbres et Cartes-Postales, the stamp and vintage postcard market made famous by Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn in 1963's Charade. The vendor gave them to me for next to nothing, they are not rare or valuable, but I fell in love with the tiny little renderings of the paintings. Each stamp measures a mere 1.625 x 2.125" (or 4 x 5 cm) and has the most exquisite level of detail and a full palette. 


I've always loved Dürer's Self Portrait at 22, in which he is holding a thistle. It was the first painting I saw at the Louvre that really made me stop and pause. It was tucked away in a quiet gallery which I found by accident the first time and found by memory a couple years later when I went back. 

Friday Inspiration: A desire to be elsewhere

 

Andre Kertész,  Champs-Élysées 1927-9

Chairs...

Chairs in Paris.

I love this photograph. 

Sketchbook Project 2011

{The full interior} Chairs, lines, and graph paper...

{Pages 4-5} A double spread of small chair studies from Paris.

{pages 14-15} A sketch from Paris and the resulting linoprint.

I participated for the third time in The Sketchbook Project. I absolutely loved the sketchbook I did last year, and was really excited to be able to pick my own "theme" this time. I chose "Lines and Grids," it seemed to most fitting for my work.

After much procrastination and an extremely chaotic autumn, I found myself in the exact same situation as last year. I had a month before the due date and an empty book. So I cut the binding at the spine and removed all the pages. Then I made a my own simple signature structure of 16 pages and sewed it back into the cover.

I decided to create a book that combined the sketches I did of chairs in Paris with the linoprints that developed later in the summer from the sketches. The intense vertical lines are something I've always done in my sketchbooks as a sort of meditative exercise.

I had all these elements, and it was excruciating to put this book together. Nothing was working, I was really sick of chairs and I was past the point of the ability to start over. I just had to slog through it. It all eventually came together, although I am a bit ambivalent about the end result.

Lines and Grids (And Chairs)

16 pages, single signature with soft cover

linoprint, photocopy and ink wash on graph paper with ephemera
8.125 x 10" opened
copyright Kate Castelli 2010

Sous un autre lumière

A thunderstorm is coming tonight and I am barefoot in the studio thinking too much-

I hate walking away from things—abandoning something I have invested in. I know by now it is all part of the process, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating. I have struck out twice in a row on the last two books I have been working on. I’m hoping the current one won’t be such a battle.

Droves of candy colored chairs have appeared in Harvard Yard. That unto itself is delightful…and then I realized they are the same chairs that are in the Jardin des Tuileries. It makes me really happy.

I took the above photo with a Holga camera I borrowed from a friend. I brought one roll of 120 film with me to Paris and the notoriously tempermental Holga yielded only one negative. I have no idea why the color came out such a particular violet and green. I love it.

Paris: The Chairs

The Jardin des Tuileries is one of my favorite places in Paris (if not the world) and home to a plethora of my favorite subject: chairs. Hundreds of green metal chairs are scattered throughout the garden that stretches from Place du Concorde to the Louvre.
























No matter where my wanderings took me during the day, I somehow always found myself back in Tuileries. I woke up early one morning to sketch and paint while the garden was deserted. My hands went numb in the cold, but I had the chairs all to myself. The next day was warmer and windy and crowded. In the late afternoon light the chairs cast long blue shadows. I was contented to sit and sketch.

























I was acutely aware of the light in Paris. I think I finally allowed myself to slow down; to absorb the blue shadows of green chairs in the afternoon or the ambers of evening in the city. I had forgotten how to pause. I cannot think of a better place to do so than amongst the endless green chairs of Jardin des Tuileries.

Afternoon Chair/shadow
sketchbook page 03.10.10
4.5 x 5"

copyright Kate Castelli 2010

What inspires me?

Check out the Glovebox blog to find out...

Paris: Louvre Faces

The Louvre is like walking into an art history book: overwhelming but wonderful.

Louvre Faces
sketchbook pages
various sizes not exceeding 2.5 x 3.5"

copyright Kate Castelli 2010

Paris: A Summary

Lundi/ breakfast in Munich / Paris by noon / Rue Notre Dame de Lorette / walking up the butte to Montmatre / hundreds and hundreds of steps to Sacre Coeur / catching my breath and lighting candles / Au Lapin Agile / Place de Tertre and the portrait artists / walking downhill / the bright lights of Pigalle / dinner on Rue des Matyrs / Mardi / early morning in Jardin des Tuileries / painting and drawing the green chairs until my fingers went numb in the cold / crossing the Solferino / chocolat chaud and roasted chestnuts waiting in line to get into the Musee D'Orsay / the magnificent station clock from 1900 /Degas' bronze horse studies / drawing chairs from the Art Noveau collection / Les Balayeurs by Maurice Denis / down the Quai Voltaire /browsing the green bookstalls along the Seine / vintage Rolling Stones records / window shopping in the antiques district of Rive Gauche / Des Ecoles de Beaux Arts / Laduree at 21 Rue Bonaparte / bowtie clad waitstaff / 26 different flavors of petits macarons / treating myself to chestnut, spiced fruit, blueberry, chocolate, coffee, rose petal, raspberry, and pistachio / Sennelier / supplying artists including Picasso since 1887 / reed pens, bone folders, handstitched sketchbooks, and violet ink / Place du Concorde / watching them erect the white tents for Fashion week / swarms of photographers laden down with gear / the famous and the skeletal teetering around the jardin in 4" heels/ dust storms blowing in / Librarie Galignani on Rue de Rivoli / Playmobil exhibit at the Musee des Arts Decoratifs / divine dinner at Les Progres in Abesses / baked Camembert with Provencal honey, field greens vinaigrette, and rosemary roast chicken / Mercredi /finding the Musee Picasso closed in Marais / disappointment / the inside out Centre Pompidou / breakfast and people watching at the musee cafe / L'autre noir / exhibition of work from female artists of the permanent collection / two small exquisite ink drawings by Eva Hesse / accordion books by Kiki Smith / panoramic views of the city from the 5th floor / first Lucien Freud retrospective since 1987 / his brutally honest self portraits / getting lost in the maze of the Metro at Place du Chatlet / the skeleton of Les Halles / iron and glass awnings remain / ribbon, yarn, buttons, beads, and notions at La Drougerie / found myself back in Jardin des Tuileries with my beloved green chairs / the apricot sunlight of late afternoon casting strong shadows / pony rides and toy boats to sail on the ponds / crocque madame and Orangina in Pigalle / Jeudi / when the metro doors opened at Saint Lazare I could hear the opening chords of "Layla" being played on an electric guitar/ morning walk past the heavily guarded American and British embassies / a quiet corner of the Champs-Elysees / Marche aux Timbres et Cartes Postales/ the stamp market made famous by Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn in 1963's Charade / ephemeral treasures to be found amongst the stalls / a bundle of letters from the early 1800s / browsing the orderly and indexed post cards / the Louvre / 35,000 works on exhibit / navigating by memory to find Albrecht Durer's self portrait with a thistle in the Richilieu wing / fragments of Egypt in the gilded salles of the Sully wing / sketching in the Italian salles of the Denon wing / Mona Lisa / Winged Victory / Venus de Milo / tarte aux pommes at Cafe Mollien / overwhelmed by art history / Vendredi /Pere Lachaise Cimetiere on the outskirts / 2 Euros well spent on a map of the 105 acres / the only grey day and a monotone color palette of stone and sky / a fascinating array of doors on the family crypts / wrought and rusted / dense pathways of stone / wandering the avenues with crows flying overhead / Marcel Proust. Honre Balzac, Apollonaire, Gertude Stein, Amedeo Modigliani, Max Ernst, Jim Morrison, and Oscar Wilde's kiss covered gravestone among the famous dead / feral cats roaming among the graves / the unexpected treasure of Musee d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris / impressive collection of early Fauvist works / Raul Dufy / Andre Breton / Femme aux Yeux Bleus by Modigliani / Jan Dibblets playing with the geometry of horizons / Palais de Tokyo / sitting on the steps of Trocedero waiting for the sun to set / the Eiffel tower faintly amber and glowing brighter as the sky darkens / crossing the Pont Iena and watching the electric glitter of the light show / Samedi / the nightmare of Charles de Gaulle airport / barely catching my plane / home to a soaking wet Boston

Paris: A small moment...

A view from Montmatre at dusk. I'll share more from Paris as soon as I unpack and figure out what time it is...

Merveilleux

There are crocuses blooming outside my front door.

There is a particular joy in the first warm days of early Spring, they make me suddenly aware that I am alive and grateful for the air in my lungs and the sun on my face.

And now I'm going to Paris for a week to wander, draw, and eat.

Adieu.

Five

Once upon a time people licked stamps and put them on hand-tinted postcards and sent them around the world. It took time. And elegance. And 12 Francs.

Postes (Day 5)
pen and ink
3 x 3.75"
copyright Kate Castelli 2009

Density

I'm thinking of going back to Paris.

It all adds up

I have been finding numbers on the ground lately. It's very Dada.

Speaking of Dada, I have been engrossed in Dan Franck's Bohemian Paris. It is an art history book that reads like a novel. It examines the tumultuous birth of modern art in the early 20th century in Paris. One can almost imagine lingering in the cafes of Montmatre and Montparnasse and rubbing shoulders with the likes of Picasso, Apollinaire, and Modigliani.

Currently on the studio playlist...

I Grieve / Peter Gabriel
Rainy Day / Coldplay
Mykonos / Fleet Foxes
Electrical Storm / U2
Monkey Gone to Heaven / The Pixies
Haunted / The Moody Blues
Plainsong / The Cure
Numb (New Mix) / U2

Places to see

When I was little I wrote down a list of 10 places to see before I die. I consider myself extremely fortunate to have crossed off 3 of those places by the time I was 21-- London, Paris, and Australia. Part of me wants to edit or change the list, but there is something a little sacred about the journeys I dreamt of taking when I was small.

I've been to places not on the list, I will be to many more. But the list remains.

I love to travel and to wander. It is not restlessness, but the desire to see and feel and experience. And be reminded of my sincerely insignificant part of something much greater.

There is so much left to see.


From pages 26-27
Moleskin sketchbook
ink and bleach on paper with hand-stitching
3.5 x 5.5"

copyright Kate Castelli 2009

The Rolling Stones

Anyone who knows me particularly well knows my love of the Rolling Stones.

I have been listening to them since I was a little kid, but it was only later in my life that I truly began to understand and appreciate what the Stones are really about. They don't apologize for who they are or who they were. They are as much a story as they are history, as much myth as they are men.

I've had the privilege of seeing these living gods of rock and roll in concert. Say what you will about their age or their habits or their history, but the moment they set foot on stage it is alchemy. You can see their souls, They become the myth of themselves, they become the music.

I've been nosebleed and I've been front row. And I can honestly say that every time I've seen them, I become utterly lost in the moment, in the music. It's not just a concert, it is a spectacle and it is beautiful moments. I remember when I saw them in Paris, after a particularly boisterous version of She Was Hot, all the lights dimmed and the big screens went dark, and Mick walked out on the catwalk with a guitar and a single spotlight. He proceeded to play a stripped down version of Waiting on a Friend that nearly brought me to tears.

I'm often asked what my favorite Stones song is. The truth is, I don't have one. I have many. I have some I love for the lyrics, some I love for the moments that they remind me of, some I fell in love with after hearing them live, some I merely loose myself in.

I know it's only rock and roll, but I like it.

But in the spirit of my frequent posting of playlists, I offer you a selection of my favorite songs (and the album you can find them on):

1. You Got the Silver Let it Bleed
2. Sway Sticky Fingers
3. Moonlight Mile Sticky Fingers
4. Slipping Away the Stripped version
5. Play With Fire Out of Our Heads
6. Sympathy for the Devil Beggar's Banquet
7. Rock's Off Exile on Main Street
8. Beast of Burden Some Girls
9. Star Star Goat's Head Soup
10. You Can't Always Get What You Want Let it Bleed
11. Wild Horses Sticky Fingers and for a gut wrenching version, Stripped
12. Dead Flowers Sticky Fingers
13. Can't You Hear Me Knocking Sticky Fingers
14. Waiting on a Friend Tattoo You
15. Ruby Tuesday Between the Buttons
16. (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction Out of Our Heads
17. Ventilator Blues Exile on Main Street
18. Monkey Man Let it Bleed
19. Gimme Shelter Let it Bleed
20. Child of the Moon B-Side to Jumpin' Jack Flash

The above photographs were taken at Stade de France in Paris le 16 Juin 2007. Front Row... in Paris. I will remember until the day I die. I am one lucky girl.

Paris

I woke up this morning and realized that a year ago I was waking up in Paris.

This is a very peculiar postcard I found at a booksellers stall along the Seine. I spent a gloriously sunny afternoon strolling up and down the banks hunting for vintage postcards.

I will return eventually, hopefully soon. But until then, I dream.

Paris Je t'Aime

Paris, Je T’Aime (Paris, I Love You)

Paris itself is divided into 20 arrondissements or districts. The films are titled after the districts, with the exception of the XVe and the XIe which were shot, but not included in the final film. So we are given 18 postcards from Paris to watch. And to read, actually, considering most of the film is in French with subtitles.

The five minute shorts are directed by a long list of notable directors (The Coen Brothers, Gus Van Sant, Alfonso Cuarón, Wes Craven to name a few) and cast with such actors as Juliette Binoche, Steve Buscemi, Willem DaFoe, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Bob Hoskins, Nick Nolte, Natalie Portman, and Elijah Wood.

The city itself is as much as a character as it is a backdrop to these small, incomplete, glimpses that unfold on her streets. You become acutely aware of the city sounds, the footfalls and car horns, the blurring of passing conversations, the hum of the Metro. The gaudy lights of Pigalle are as vital to the fabric of Paris as the sun falling on the banks of the Seine, or the shadows of the Eiffel Tower. You wander Montmatre, Marais, Bastille, Tuileries, Père Lachaise Cemetery, and the Latin Quarter, wishing you had just a little more time to linger. But then you are bustled along down another street to another story.

There is something almost voyeuristic about these stories, these glimpses into anonymous lives in a beautiful city. You feel as if you are overhearing conversations or staring into windows or driving by. They are quiet intimacies of other people’s love and loss. You don’t have to feel them, just witness them and move on.

In Le Marais (IVe) directed by Gus Van Sant. We are in a small, cramped printshop and gallery. A customer played by Marianne Faithfull comes in with a lean, muscular young man whose face is framed with shaggy hair. Faithfull disappears for a few moments with the owner of the shop and the young man finds himself attracted to the young printshop worker who sits and smokes a cigarette. The young man carries on, compelled to speak for reasons he doesn’t understand. He tries to explain that he believes the man to be his soulmate. The worker’s seeming indifference is exasperating until you realize that he does not speak French.

The couple in Parc Monceau (XVIIe) by writer-director Alfonso Cuarón are not what they seem. Nick Nolte is an older man whose cigarette hardened voice tries to reassure his companion, a young woman about a certain Gaspar. He repeatedly asks her to trust him. About what? That is the most delightful part.

My favorite short was directed by German writer-director Tom Tykwer (Run, Lola, Run and most recently Perfume, Story of a Murderer). In Faubourg Saint-Denis (Xe) a young blind man receives a telephone call from his girlfriend in which she appears to break up with him. With painful awareness we hear the click of the receiver and the man reflects how his relationship unfolded with the struggling actress (played by Natalie Portman) and how it seemed to decline. The pacing of this film is beautiful. It starts off tenderly with a chance meeting between the two and as the relationship is measured out in increments of intimacy, the blind man’s narration repeats itself faster and faster. The story is punctuated by the screams of the actress. Screams in anger, in orgasmic ecstasy, in jest, in surprise, in joy. The intimacy of the relationship sours to an almost unbearable mundanity, calling to mind T.S. Eliot’s "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock". But instead, this love song is measured out in swimming pools, and movies, and screams. The end is not unlike the beginning, a phone rings painfully loud and the blind man picks it up.

Not all the films work as seamlessly into a narrative. In Quartier de la Madeleine (VIIIe) Elijah Wood plays a hapless backpacker who falls in love with a Vampire in this campy horror short. It feels childish and somewhat insincere compared with the other films. Wes Craven’s contribution, the short set in Père-Lachaise (XXe) suffers from a rather contived appearance of the ghost of Oscar Wilde, who comes to the aid of a man who was just rejected by his fiancée. Even the gloomy splendor of the famous Père-Lachaise Cemetery cannot help this unimaginative short.

Paris Je T’Aime offers you a glimpse into the City of Light, five minutes at a time.

Paris Je t'Aime
(2006) Produced by Emmanuel Benbihy and Claudie Ossard
First Look Pictures (USA distribution)
120 Minutes, French with subtitles

French Noses

"Les trois nez sur la rue Notre-Dame de Lorette"
Sketchbook page
industrial kraft paper, vintage graph paper, ballpoint pen, and orange ink
6x10"

A recent sketchbook page featuring three "self portraits" of my nose, and the view from my hotel balcony at number 11 Rue Notre-Dame de Lorette, Paris.

I love the windows of the old buildings in Paris. They have such a soul. You can imagine lives being lived behind those panes of glass and shutters. They are blinking in the evening with lights and laughter and wine and good food. And sleepy, drowsy, barely awake windows in the early morning when they come to clean the sidewalks. Windows to look into and to look out of.