This Monochrome Summer

IN JAPANESE ART, BIJIN-GA ARE PICTURES OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, usually rendered in woodblock prints predating photography. Many contemporary artists from all over the world put their own spin on the genre, including Japanese illustrator and 1980s icon Ichiro Tsuruta.

Born in 1954 in the Kumamoto Prefecture, Tsuruta majored in graphic design at the Tama Art University in Tokyo. Hyperrealism was the trend at the time and he proceeded to create artwork in the style.

Tsuruta achieved fame in the late 80s when his work sparked a “Cosmetic Renaissance” through advertisements for Japanese cosmetics brand Noevir. Over the next decade, Tsuruta's bijin-ga found themselves on national TV and in Japanese publications, eventually too in international galleries.

With a focus on female beauty, Tsuruta's illustrations naturally feature the face, but also place an emphasis on hands and accessories. As such, I found them fitting inspiration for my own content with British jewellery brand Estella Bartlett.

My take on Tsuruta's fashion portraits:

It's my second summer styling for Estella Bartlett, and what a lovely year it's been, working with delicate pieces in shifting trends. Ichiro Tsuruta's Monochrome Summer, with its bare arms, white accessories, and over-the-shoulder gaze, provides the perfect mood for summertime styles in the city.

Illustrations by Ichiro Tsuruta, tsuruta-bijinga.com Photos by Lady San Pedro. Shop the pieces at estellabartlett.com

That Reserved Space

IN THE GRAPHIC ARTS, WHITE SPACE makes or breaks visual communication. Too much of it makes the design look unfinished. Too little makes it hard to understand.

White space refers to any portion of a page left unmarked, including margins and gutters, as well as the space between columns, lines of type, characters, images, and graphics. The widespread use of black ink on white paper throughout history has given rise to the term, although white space doesn’t necessarily need to be white in color.

As a designer by trade, I love white space, and use it liberally. This preference extends beyond graphic design and typesetting, and into the broader fields of applied and visual arts.

Of the applied arts, I seek white space in packaging labels, interiors, and textiles. Premium products are therefore a weakness, as are the minimalist interiors that dominate Instagram feeds and Pinterest boards. In the visual arts, portraits and depictions of individual objects normally exhibit good use of white space, balancing positive and negative spaces to direct the viewer's gaze.

I've gathered a selection of works demonstrating fine use of white space; mostly etchings by some leading figures of 20th century art. Matisse's bold yet sparse Nadia portraits use white space around and within the drawings. Hockney's Tulips and Potted Daffodils juxtapose densely-shaded subjects with a generous amount of unmarked page. Picasso's L'Age de soleil uses white space similarly to Matisse's portraits, while his Salomé leaves white space to inspire imagination.

White space isn't for everyone, with consumers and creators, audiences and artists alike favoring richer, or fuller compositions. I personally find it sublime. In a cluttered world, beauty reserves restful spaces for tired eyes.

Nadia au menton pointu by Henri Matisse, Potted Daffodils by David Hockney, Salomé by Pablo Picasso, Nadia regardant à droite by Henri Matisse, L'Age de soleil - Pour Roby by Pablo Picasso, and Tulips by David Hockney. All images from artsy.net

That Breathing Space

THE WORKS OF LIAM STEVENS range from geometric cut-out compositions to loose paint daubs, and finally, airy pencil sketches of natural scenes. Predominant across the styles is that airiness, as if the image had taken a breath, and is prompting you to do so too. The sketches in particular impart this sensation, with foliage and other natural elements defined by lines that don't dare intersect. Save for a few, they don't even touch.

In graphology, handwriting with widely-spaced words and letters suggests that the writer enjoys freedom and independence. Widely-spaced strokes in drawing give me the same notion somehow. In Liam Stevens's nature sketches, the lines appear to be independent of each other. The spaces between them call attention to the way they interact as elements on a page; elements that give way and have room to move about.

It's a tiny detail that fascinates me, primarily as a designer who works with graphics, but also personally as an individual who values personal space. We've all been there, in public transport and crowded events, in which strangers feel too comfortable with contact. Let me out!

If you can relate, do check out anthropologist Edward T. Hall's chart assigning radii in feet and meters for the intimate, personal, social and public distances between people. According to the chart, we can reserve up to 1.5 feet of personal space for those with whom we feel familiarity and intimacy.

But alas, it seems we're better off as lines on a Liam Stevens drawing.

Illustrations by Liam Stevens, liamstevens.com

That Voyage Extraordinaire

"THE UNFORESEEN DOES NOT EXIST." said Phileas Fogg, the surprisingly gallant, albeit stolid and mathematical gentleman member of the Reform Club, whose round-the-world adventures and misadventures left him consistently unfazed. "Phlegmatic" was the adjective used many times to describe his character, offset only by his comical traveling companion Jean Passepartout.

Jules Verne's Around the World in Eighty Days kept me company through the unpacking stage of our brand new British life. Begun in the summer of this year, it was coincidentally when the whole of England seemed to have been traveling on holidays. Eleventh in the series of Verne's Voyages Extraordinaires, the novel was inspired by transport innovations current at the time of its writing. The opening of the Suez Canal, the linking of the Indian railways and the completion of the first Transcontinental Railroad in America allowed a newly-possible, tourist-like circumnavigation of the world.

We take such things for granted today. Over a hundred years since the beginning of global tourism, travel appears to have lost the wonder carried over from the exploration age. Where in 1870, people marveled at the concept of traveling comfortably to where only pilgrims, adventurers or men of means had previously been, in 2015, tourism has become synonymous with selfie sticks, spawning selfie-related injuries and damages, as well as next-generation selfie technologies like the Lily and the Nixie: drone cameras that follow you around taking footage.

Skipping on the sand, sea, selfie-ing and sightseeing this summer, I found pleasure in Verne's rich, cinematic paragraphs, sweeping through "cotton, coffee, nutmeg, clove and pepper plantations," "picturesque bungalows, viharis (sort of abandoned monasteries)," "marvellous temples enshrined by the exhaustless ornamentation of Indian architecture," "jungles inhabited by snakes and tigers," "vast forests of palms, arecs, bamboo, teakwood," "fir and cedar groves, sacred gates of a singular architecture, bridges half hid in the midst of bamboos and reeds," and other postcard panoramas from the British Empire. And as Phileas Fogg did not yet have Instagram in those years, Verne commissioned Léon Benett to masterfully depict his adventures in illustrated scenes that put our travel albums to shame.

The sights and scenes were naturally spectacular but it was Phileas Fogg himself that made the biggest impression on me. I admired his composure in the face of threat or loss, his British "phlegm" and lack of drama in spite of his sensation-rousing, society-stirring actions. "The unforeseen does not exist." he asserted in response to skepticism over his plan. But skeptics are averse to adventure anyway so why bother with their remarks?
 
Wherever you are in your journey, I wish you some of Phileas Fogg's quiet confidence, to brave what critics say cannot be done, and welcome your own voyage extraordinaire. Unless your intention is to risk your life or violate some artworks in the process of taking a selfie, do mind the critics and avoid the extraordinary. Please let travel be enjoyable for us too.

Around the World in Eighty Days, illustrations by Léon Benett. Images from jv.gilead.org

That Standstill

DERIVED FROM THE LATIN WORDS SOL FOR SUN AND SISTERE, TO STAND STILL, summer solstice took place recently in the northern hemisphere, and was celebrated so exuberantly on my social media feeds. Back in my previous home of Barcelona, folks observed the Verbenas de Sant Joan with a long night of city-wide firecrackers and fiestas, followed naturally by a non-working holiday. Further back in my hometown of Manila, summer solstice is not exactly a celebrated event, but Saint John's feast day is nonetheless met with a splash, literally, as the saint's namesake district baptizes itself in an annual water festival.

Meanwhile, no merriment met the longest day over where we are. A little over a week into moving to England, we are still on the hunt for a new home, encountering much difficulty due to restrictions on tenancy with pets. Nine days have never felt so long and unsettled, with life yet again in limbo and all things only temporary. Who knew London would be so un-pet-friendly?

These days surrounding the solstice though, however long and laborious, do have their charm. Jacqueline Osborn's Table in The Corner captures our nightly congregations as of late, against 10pm twilights that paint the evenings prettier than on any other time of year. Dinners have become the one pleasurable part of our temporary standstill, especially since there hasn't been any time for lunch at all. It appears we're not in Spain anymore.

Days gradually grow shorter after the summer solstice. Perhaps demandingly long days will now gradually grow shorter too.

Table in The Corner by Jacqueline Osborn, jacquelineosborn.com

That Pleasure of Your Company

IT’S MOST NOTICEABLE JUST BEFORE THE START OF A TRIP, after the pet sitter had picked them up to stay with him at his farm. Once the pets have gone, gone too are the rustlings, the rolling around, the relocating to and from different corners of the home, and the nuances that have come to make the house whole. "I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul." said Jean Cocteau. Indeed, for creatures who spend half the time sleeping, pets sure know how to make both their presence and absence felt.

We’ve had Sunny and Kitty since puppy and kittenhood in three apartments across two continents. Sunny is a seven-year-old golden retriever and Kitty Bang Bang is an eight-year-old Persian cat. Like all well-loved pets, they are very much family, taken into consideration for most any decision on lifestyle and living. The color of our linens camouflage the cat hair. The Roomba deals with both pets shedding. Having a terrace and a nearby park were decisions made mostly with the dog in mind. The country we live in too had to have permitted their entry. Waste is a chore. Travel is a chore. As we are a household of two, both of us going on trips means the pets need a sitter able to watch them. We’ve grown accustomed to the planning and expenses by now, but more and more with each new trip, the attachment grows.

It would be stating the obvious to list the joys of pet companionship. But studies do in fact show strong points for having a pet, on top of the pleasure their company brings. A study by the Waltham Center for Pet Nutrition and the United States Food and Drug Administration revealed that the heart rates and blood pressures of pet owners increased less when they had to solve math problems with their pets around. Another study by the State University of New York at Buffalo found that when people with hypertension adopted a cat or a dog, they had lower blood pressure readings in stressful situations than did those without pets. Cat purring has also been found to help lower stress and blood pressure, while playing with both cat and dog species elevates levels of serotonin and dopamine, which calm and relax.

The positive effects pets have on humans make you wonder why society hasn’t set up life to maximize the benefits of animal companionship. Why can't we have pets around during job interviews? At court hearings? At airports? Or during exams? Perhaps if we were all a little less stressed in our daily dealings, the world would be a happier place to live in. Until then, we can head home for some cuddles.

Illustrations from Fantasio, by Jacques (Lehmann) Nam, Vald'Es (Valvérane & D'Espagnat) and René Préjelan. Available on hprints.com

Those Natural Patterns

THEY RESEMBLE FABERGÉ EGGS, PAISLEY PRINTS, OR FILIGREED ORNAMENTS, but the elements featured on Kunstformen der Natur are in fact biological specimens, sketched by German renaissance man Ernst Haeckel. Containing 100 lithographic and halftone prints, the book was first published in sets of 10 between 1899 and 1904, and cumulatively in two volumes at the end of the five-year period. A second edition featuring 30 prints was produced in 1924.

As a work of art, Kunstformen der Natur or "Art Forms in Nature" exhibits intricate detail and meticulous composition, employing the graceful lines and elegant palettes that would be an influence to Art Nouveau practitioners. As a scientific material, Kunstformen touches on Haeckel's vast zoological discovery, description and classification, particularly of the Radiolarians he found while traveling in Messina, Sicily. The single-celled organisms proved enchanting to the biologist, "for whom the elegance and complexity embodied the unity of science and art." Film-maker David Lebrun's "Proteus" documents this discovery, recounting Haeckel's conflict between, and eventual reconciliation of, the scientific and the poetic.

A look through Kunstformen proves poetic indeed, with the richness of both its style and subject. The illustrations are eye candy, but they might just provide a good brush-up on zoology, accompanied by such classifications as Bryozoa, Diatomea, Ciliate and Discomedusae, which may or may not sound even remotely familiar. Browse the full set on Wikimedia Commons for a most sophisticated look at the natural world.

Kunstformen der Natur by Ernst Haeckel. Images from commons.wikimedia.org

That Dry Alternative

DRIER THAN A DRY MARTINI is no martini, proudly brought to you by that thing you may have heard called "Dry January". First held in 2013 as a campaign by British charity Alcohol Concern, Dry January challenges people to give up booze on the month preceding the holidays, with the aim of reducing alcohol's harmful effects within families and communities. "Save money. Lose weight. Feel energised." reads their tagline. 2014 saw 17,000 pledges to give up drinking for a month, with numbers expected to have grown this year as Dry January gains increasing popularity. The sign-up form on the website requires a British postcode but participants hail from even outside of the UK, including Brooklyn resident Anne Hathaway who reportedly planned to "prioritise my health this year and not drink, at least not in January."

Are there any actual benefits though to giving up booze for 31 days? Healthwise, a small study by New Scientist and Professor Rajiv Jalan, from the Institute for Liver and Digestive Health at University College London Medical School, found significant health benefits to alcohol abstinence, however insignificant 31 days may seem. Five weeks had ten New Scientist staff abstain from alcohol, while four other staff members carried on drinking as they normally do. All 14 subjects were tested before and after the five-week period, and while no remarkable changes were found in those who drank, the changes were consistent and dramatic in those who went dry: liver fat fell by an average of 15 percent, blood glucose by 16 percent, blood cholesterol by almost 5 percent, and weight by an average of 1.5 kilograms. Concentration and sleep quality were also rated by abstainers to have improved, though on the downside, they reported to have had lower social contact during the study.

Behaviorally, a study by the University of Sussex followed up nearly 900 participants in the 2014 Dry January campaign, to find six months later that 72 percent had kept harmful drinking episodes down, with four percent continuing the abstinence long past January. The changes in alcohol consumption were interestingly found not only in the participants who completed the month-long pledge, but also in those who didn't go fully booze-free. "Even if participants took part but didn't successfully complete the 31 days, it generally led to a significant decrease across all the measures of alcohol intake." The university's Dr. Richard de Visser affirms.

With Dry January coming to a close, it may be worth thinking about cultivating better drinking habits for the rest of the year. Health benefits aside, there are cultured nuances to drinking that, when explored, prove more satisfying than a binge-drunken night out. Think along the lines of aperitifs, digestifs, having a good glass of wine at lunch, trying a new beer for its flavor, oysters and bubbly, dessert and sticky, fancy cocktails you can't afford too many of, actual conversations or a moment to mull one's thoughts. Quality over quantity may be key.

Besides, we really don't need another hangover, do we? Not to mention any more incriminating photos set to resurface on Timehop next year. Salut!

Vintage liquor posters from the Ross Art Group, available at postergroup.com Support Dry January at dryjanuary.org.uk