House No. 189: Rose Cottage

House No. 189: Rose Cottage

upcycled cardstock

4.75 in. x 4.5 in. x 2.5 in.

189/365; 07/08/11

 

While I was working on this, I had stuck in my head Elvis Costello's A Good Year for the Roses, which is quite possibly the saddest song ever written and has nothing whatsoever to do with this house other than this house has roses on its roof. Still, it's a really great song, so I thought I'd mention it, salient point or not.

 

The cardstock came from Ralph lauern paint finish books that I have had in my scrap collection for over fifteen years. Some quite nice printing on those pieces.

House No. 187: Homage to Cy Twombly

House No. 187: Homage to Cy Twombly

colored pencil on upcycled cardstock

5 in. x 7 in. x 4 in.

187/365; 07/06/11

I have a memory of first seeing the work of Cy Twombly — one of his blackboard paintings hanging adjacent to the coat check in the entrance of the Museum of Modern Art — when I was visiting during a high school art history field trip. I am not sure if my memory is accurate or created or even altogether fabricated.

It seems appropriate that I struggle to pinpoint that visual history in the thick fog of memory because that is how I view Twombly's work: impressions of visual and oral history in layers of imagining and reimagining, of remembering and forgetting and reinventing, all erased and re-drawn and partially obscured.

For the most part, the Abstract Expressionists struck me as all bravado and chest-thumping. Their work was machismo of cigars and bourbon and fast cars and sex. Not Twombly. His work, like his life, was elusive and introspective.

Unlike most of the hard-living Abstract Expressionists, Twombly lived into old age and continued to work and evolve. Yesterday, at 83, he left this world with a legacy of work that defines a moment in modern western art and continually redefined visual storytelling. For me, his work changed the way I saw and thought.

House No. 170: Wedgwood House

House No. 170: Wedgwood House
acrylic on repurposed heavy cardstock
6 in. x 7 in. x 8 in.
170/365; 06/19/11

I found this heavy blue card stock in recycling, and the color immediately brought Wedgwood Jasperware to mind. I am a fan of Wedgwood, particularly the black Jasperware. I love the contrast of it. The blue Jasperware is so ubiquitous that its shade of blue is frequently called Wedgwood Blue.

For today’s house, I studied details of the Hellenic-style ornamentation used to decorate the porcelain, and then worked from my sketches to paint the house that I fabricated from the cardstock. I based the shape of the house on the Greek Revival style, with a low-pitched roof and gable-facing facade, to coordinate with the neoclassic style of ornamentation.

House No. 115: City Apartment

House No. 115: City Apartment
ink, watercolor pencil, and metallic ink on repurposed card stock
2 in. x 4.25 in.
115/365; 04/25/11


Another city house today. I loved drawing the fire escapes on this one. Fire escapes and cisterns atop apartment buildings are two of my favorite things about city architecture.

House No. 114: City at Sunset

House No. 114: City at Sunset
ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
2 in. x 4.25 in.
114/365; 04/24/11

Colorful skyscrapers.

House No. 113: Pink House with Cherry Tree

House No. 113: Pink House with Cherry Tree
ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
2.25 in. x 2.33 in.
113/365; 04/23/11

Happy spring weekend!

House No. 112: Farnsworth House

House No. 112: Farnsworth House
ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
4.25 in. x 2 in.
112/365; 04/22/11

And now for something entirely different ...

It took 112 houses for me to reproduce an actual house. I never had the desire previously to do it, but I wanted to experiment with some Modern Architecture and kept thinking about the Farnsworth House and Mies van der Rohe.

The Farnsworth House is an example of the International Style. Designed by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, the Farnsworth House was built to be a weekend retreat/country house for Dr. Edith Farnsworth, so it wasn't a place someone would live all the time.

It’s a bit impractical. It’s not a place to have “stuff.” It is not terribly private, either. (Remember, those who live in Mies van der Rohe houses shouldn’t throw stones.)

My head loves this design, but my heart doesn’t. What do you think?

House No. 111: Igloo

House No. 111: Igloo

ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
4.25 in. x 2 in.
111/365; 04/21/11

Igloos have been made to be sort of silly. We see them in media with fur-hooded Eskimos and penguins (wrong continent), and advertising ice cream or bagged ice. Igloos are simplified and misunderstood, quite like the tipi. Igloos are, in reality, amazing snow structures of the Inuit people of the arctic, themselves a very complicated culture that is diverse and spans portions of Alaska, Canada, Greenland, and Russia.

Igloos are an example of ingenuity and make-do. I love how homes reflect culture and available resources. For me, igloos are proof that people make comfortable, homey retreats out of whatever is available wherever people find themselves.

What is home exactly? I think that beyond shelter, containment, and safety, there is an element of comfort required to make someplace home. We make homes for those we love, and we think of home as someplace comforting. I think food is inseparable from home, as are smells. What are your requirements for home?

House No. 110: Yurts

House No. 110: Yurts
ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
4.25 in. x 2 in.
110/365; 04/20/11

You know I love some tents. I really do.

I'm still working out some troubadour-style nomadic homes in 3D materials, but I have some ideas that are cooking. I love the patterns on some Mongolian gers, and so I wanted to play with that for today's houses. I like the white is set off against the background. I imagine the interiors are lush.

House No. 109: Petit Château

House No. 109: Petit Château 
ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
2.75 in. x 2.75 in.
109/365; 04/19/11

This little illustration is drawn on the back of another sheet from my matchbook calendar that I have mentioned before. The paper is just yummy. Very thick with just the right amount of tooth to it.

It’s funny because the photos of the drawing are so much larger than they are in life, and the details are so much easier to see. I like making these tiny drawings and am thinking about what I should do with them all. Perhaps mount them all together? What do you think?

House No. 108: Gothic House

House No. 108: Gothic House
ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
2.45 in. x 1.85 in.
108/365; 04/18/11

Today’s house is a diminutive illustration of a high Victorian style home with iron work and dark colors. I took a lot of liberties with the architecture (again) because I got going and just NEEDED to draw quoins and arches and symmetry.

I imagine that this house is dark and musty inside and has things like dress forms and wooden trunks in the attic, doilies on the furniture, and those tiny foot stools that were supposed to alleviate gout. And a silver samovar with a highly ornate repoussé coffee service. And frosted sugar cubes and nonpareils.

House No. 107: Foil House

House No. 107: Foil House
collage of repurposed card stock and foiled paper
3.5 in. x 3.75 in.
107/365; 04/17/11

It’s not apparent in this photo, but this house is very thick and sturdy and has a bit of dimension. It's quite satisfying, really. Once again, the metallic scrap is from my bottomless magpie nest, and everything but the glue is upcycled.
I pulled out the colors that I used on this house because when I saw them next to one another they looked very seventies color palette. I thought I would have a go. I especially like the maroon foil and thought it would make lovely shutters.

House No. 106: Dutch Row Houses

House No. 106: Dutch Row Houses

ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
3 in. x 1.6 in.
106/365; 04/16/11

I still have Dutch things on my mind. I think that yesterday's house left me wanting for something more Dutch-y. (And I still have pancakes on my mind too, but I digress.) These are stripped-down Dutch row houses, and I am rather partial to their stepped-gabled facades and bright colors. They are perky and reflect Holland’s ubiquitous tulips. I think simple was the way to go with these.  I do enjoy making something into an icon, and that is probably why I enjoy designing logos so much.

House No. 105: Dutch Colonial

House No. 105: Dutch Colonial

ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
2.5 in. x 1.75 in.
105/365; 04/15/11

I didn’t mean for my Dutch colonial revival house to look like it was on acid. It just happened. It's all dayglo and listing to one side, and I took a lot of liberties with the architecture because, hey, I can make it way more fun and also slightly cage-y looking.

I think that if I lived in a Dutch colonial revival house, I would feel trapped, though that barred appearance was really more of an accident than a statement. I have never been a fan of the style, and I am not entirely sure why I decided to draw it.

I think that I had Dutch things in my head because I was reading A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg, and she gives a recipe for Dutch Baby Pancakes, and I have sort of been obsessed with the thought. Although, I think that Dutch Babies are really German. I have had pannekoek when I was in the Netherlands, and those are also amazing. I think that I really need pancakes. Stat.

House No. 104: Little House in the Big Woods

House No. 104: Little House in the Big Woods
ink and watercolor pencil on repurposed card stock
4.25 in. x 2 in.
104/365; 04/14/11

Did you ever read the Little House books? In fourth grade, I was obsessed with them and read each book several times until about sixth grade when I first read A Wrinkle in Time and my obsession with Madeline L’Engle began. I think I loved books in which children had to be resourceful. Before Laura, it was The Boxcar Children (Only the first one. After that, the books become forced.) and Z for Zachariah.

Today’s house, Laura’s Little House in the Big Woods is inspired by The Wilder Life by Wendy McClure, a favorite author and blogger of mine. The book is being released today, and I cannot wait to read it. In fact, it has me wanting to reread the Little House books. If you are into such things, check out HalfPintIngalls on the Twittergraph. Hilarious.

House No. 103: Tents

House No. 103: Tents
ink and metallic marker on repurposed card stock
3.45 in. x 3.45 in.
103/365; 04/13/11

I think these are tents for carnies or circus folk. Or for medieval troubadours. I fluctuate on their story. Nonetheless, I am fascinated by nomadic life and impermanent structures. I love gers and yurts and the tents in Harry Potter.

For today’s house I revisited the Tiny Tent that I made last month. I think that I would like to make a whole caravan of tents, and I am sort of working them out in my head right now: how and out of what will I make them? What colors and size should they be? What is their story?

House No. 102: Metallic Colonial

House No. 102: Metallic Colonial

collage of repurposed card stock and foiled paper
3.5 in. x 2.85 in.
102/365; 04/12/11

Some more shiny paper and other scraps fished from my magpie nest were the materials for this simplified colonial style house. I often like to do very detailed work, but I also like to occasionally break a houses down to its barest elements, an icon or symbol for “house.” And today, I also broke down “tree.” Or green lollipop. It can go either way.

House No. 101: Silver House

House No. 101: Silver House

watercolor on repurposed paper, card stock, and foiled paper
8.25 in. x 5.85 in.
101/365; 04/11/11

I dove back into my magpie collection and fished out most of the silver foiled paper to make today's house. It took forever to dry because the foiled paper is largely not porous and did not let air get to the adhesive.

I like the contrast of the painted matte paper against the shiny silver and the movement created by all the scraps and angles of cut paper. This house felt like play.

House No. 95: The Witch's House from Hansel and Gretel, No. 2

House No. 95: The Witch's House from Hansel and Gretel, No. 2

mixed media
 8 in. x 7.5 in. x 4 in.
095/365; 04/05/11

Yesterday's house would entice an adult with a sweet tooth, but would a kid care for Michel Cluizel chocolate, Leone Pastilles, and Choward's Violet Candies? That house would not even grab the attention of my husband. And so I rethought the candy house.

A witch with a penchant for kinder roast would have to do better marketing. Animal crackers and sugary sweets would do the trick.

Sugar buttons, by the way, are cute but have no discernable flavor and remind me of candy scabs. Just make them a deep red color, and the picking action would be perfect. Make them blood orange flavor. Halloween gory candy producers, you're welcome.

The rubber bonbon on the house gable was found in the street and found a place on my bulletin board collage at work for a while. I later discovered that they are ornaments for Crocs. Huh.

The pastry shop twine looks a bit like peppermint sticks as well, so here serves a double purpose of referencing pastry and candy. The witch could also use the twine for hog-tying children. Did I take that a bit too far? Prolly so. It's the Brother's Grimm, people. It's grim.

House No. 94: The Witch's House from Hansel and Gretel

House No. 94: The Witch's House from Hansel and Gretel

repurposed cardstock, candy wrappers, glue
6 in. x 6 in. x 7 in.
094/365; 04/04/11

 

This house has a cloying, almost sickeningly sweet smell. The violet candy wrapper makes it smell like flowers as well, and all those chocolate paper shingles smell very strong.  And yes, I am guilty of collecting a box full of these lovely wrappers. I am a magpie when it comes to shiny paper.

And so I return to my fairy tale houses today. Hansel and Gretel is a sick story, make no mistake. Two children are left by their father to die in the woods, are entrapped by a witch with an edible house, and are threatened with cannibalism. 

And yet we love gingerbread houses and put them up everywhere at Christmas time. I am as guilty as the next person. I have a small collection of gingerbread houses, and in fact, my sister and I have matching gingerbread house tattoos. I think that I am as attracted by the foreboding of the gingerbread house as I am by its preciousness. 

This duality of fairy tales, the sweet and the sinister, really fascinates me.

I love the complexity of fairy tales, and I am learning a lot more about them while working on these houses. Did you know about the Aarne–Thompson Index? I did not, but now that I do, I am a woman obsessed.

The Aarne–Thompson Index is a classification system for folktales that comparitively organizes (primarily European) folk stories by subject and groups and numbers them. It's amazing to consider the common themes that connect cultures and what we deem important knowledge.

Hansel and Gretel is such a complex story that it is even an opera.

Who thought fairy tales were just for children?