Industrial Evolution

I spent Friday evening with two incredibly talented friends and their daughter in Sydney. They, along with my long-suffering partner, have caused me to rethink my future plans. I am in the process of instigating huge changes in both my collection and personal direction. While it's undoubtedly rewarding to work closely with my studio it can detract from my creative input. The long and the short of it means I'll be spending a lot more time evolving Bison and really getting the opportunity to enjoy this process. I have been a long-time secret e-stylist...collecting pieces (and elements) which to me contribute to the integrity of an image.

I thought for today's post I'd pick a few objects and place them together in a shoot based around a workbench and some vintage and contemporary tools. Imagination is a wonderful gift, so when I describe how I'd place the pieces together just humour me and politely agree. (Joke!) Firstly I thought we'd start with a rustic long table with the appropriately faded wall behind it. Amber bottles give it a simple charm which we'll exploit as we go on. 

Next we'll insert a vintage oil can. I'd probably place it to the far right of the amber bottles.

Finally I think we need a tool box. One which appears modern but could have a slightly retro reference. This could be placed on an angle next to the stool (to the right)...or further under the table. 

I think these colours would really pop (to use a fashion term) and would work with the slightly 'old masters' feel that I love about this composition. Watch this space as shortly I'll be posting some images I'll be working on together with my talented friends.

Vintage Glass Insulators

Glass has always been one of my favourite media. It's translucency and texture can work in tandem to make mundane objects appear really beautiful. It strikes me as odd that there's such a fascination by some photographers for assemblages of detritus from beaches and riverbeds. I prefer even more obscure pieces such as industrial tools and rolls of rusted wire to give a sense of nature reclaiming some of the materials we have taken to produce objects. If you look at domes on buildings in Europe you'll quite often note that they can be covered with a green patina of verdigris. This oxidation of the copper gives us the sense that time is smoothing down the impact of our handiwork. Maybe it's natures way of showing who's the boss!

Back to glass...I used to see glass insulators on the top of telegraph poles in rural NSW. You'd watch them pass by as you lay on the rear seat of your parents car willing yourself to finally arrive at the next town. Ours were predominantly white but I have since discovered that in the USA there's a plethora of colours to choose from. If you troll the dark recesses of Etsy (or simply search under glass insulators) you'll see how diverse these relics of our technology are. Yes, the light shining through them is beautiful. Yes, the colours look enticing. My question to you is what would you use them for (other than bookends) in your home? I'd be interested to hear your thoughts.

The Swing Wing

Once upon a decade (namely the 1960's) some genius invented the children's torture device known as the 'Swing Wing'. Apart from causing long-term cranial displacement and permanent dizziness, this device looked more at home in a psych ward than on the head of your infant! In fact, it has more in common with shock therapy than as a means of entertainment. Add voltage and play! As I was born at the end of 1964 I can but give thanks to the almighty that I lived in the country. The fact that we were restricted from watching television meant that we were protected from the evils of the 'Swing Wing'. 

I was alerted to this homage to cinematic excellence by the talented Vicky. Vicky works with us at Bison and has a wicked sense of humour. The Gruen Transfer was the medium for this discovery and for that we are eternally (or should that read..infernally?) grateful. If you shake while watching this video it appears a lot less nauseating. R rating applies!

My Own Private Floriade

One of a series of groupings of colour-blocked hyacinths in my garden

For those of us living under a rock the inescapable scent of Spring is upon us. The first clue is the wafting cloud of Daphne which cloaks the garden in a fragrance more enduring than the finest perfume. Then the camellias come to life with flashes of white and pink, along with the traditional red of the sasanqua. Next appears the hyacinths with their thick heavy heads which seem to open almost over night. They represent to me the real coming of Spring. They also have a significance for me in that they open on around September 1st (my late father's birthday). Their scent and vivid colours remind me of how energised the atmosphere becomes at this time of the year. 

It's as if every plant has a timeline and a specific purpose. Regardless of what that may be I'm proud to admit that gardening is one of my guilty pleasures. Apart from the odd asparagus fern at university I never had much interest in plants. Come the onset of middle age and hey presto... it's day trips to Monbulk to purchase bulbs and bare root trees! It's a very peaceful place to be even with two Belgian Shepherds head butting me for attention. Every year I plant about a hundred hyacinths in colour blocks and then follow them up with 'Arab's Eyes' (Ornithogalum arabicum). These truly beautiful flowers last up to three weeks and look spectacular in tall vase forms with small necks. The garden also supplies me with an endless range of colour combinations which spills over into my work at Bison. 

Ornithogalum arabicum

Hyacinth Photo: Brian Tunks

Lazy Sunday...Not!

Latte Bowls. Back by popular demand!

After a hectic period in the studio I envisaged a couple of days of lazing at home drawing some new shapes  or working on concepts. That however was not to be! I spent a good deal of Saturday loading a kiln at Bison of which I glazed about ninety percent of the stock. It's a really useful practice to know all the aspects of your business and even more so with utilitarian objects. When the studio is empty I just turn on ABC radio and enjoy the rhythm of roll-glazing or finishing the pieces in the spray booth. Packing the kiln becomes an experience as you try and fit as many objects in as possible. 

Most of the load from the Saturday evening firing. Workbench courtesy of my grandfather.

I thought it might be interesting for you to see actually how much Bison can fit into a kiln and how it looks as it comes out. I actually fired this load until 9.30pm on Saturday evening and unloaded it Sunday about noon. The pieces are stacked on the workbench (actually from my grandfather's toolshed) and then allocated or taken in to our Canberra store. They are often still warm from the firing and I love to see the expression on people's faces when they realise they are still cooling. We pride ourselves on our quality and our loss rate can be as low as 2 - 3 percent. 

Bottom shelf of kiln. Illustrates how we pack the load.

Photos: Brian Tunks

Pierre Cardin meets Raquel Welch

Well...this post can't be blamed on the influence of  full moon, nor any childhood trauma or repressed memories. It's simply that when the Lord of the Dance meets Raquel Welch (and two backup dancers in alfoil onesies) it's hard not to keep watching. The props (other than the practical outfit worn by Raquel) really suit the camera work. I have no idea if Pierre Cardin actually designed this ensemble... it just strikes me as something he would have created. That is before he discovered the joys of multi-tier licensing and branded everything from bathmats to hairpieces. If zooming camera work makes you edgy I'd suggest viewer caution. It's a little bit of 1970's paradise and a whole lot of medication. Steady your nerves with a chaser and let the music transport you...

Jillian Leiboff...Life through the lens.

Many photographers have a particular 'look' to their work. People often have a specific aesthetic which they recreate, despite having a different subject, when they take images. You can notice this if you read magazines ( as I do voraciously! ) as often the same photographers work on the same titles. Sometimes the relationship can extend further to the point where a particular stylist will only work with 'their' photographer/s. The consequence of this is clearly beautiful images but it can also be somewhat difficult for them to evolve or operate more individually. This is definitely not the case with Jillian Leiboff. 

Jillian came into my Sydney store over a year ago. She took some absolutely stunning images which created a furore among a number of bloggers.  Her ability to capture the 'heart' of the subject, along with putting some of her own in, makes her work irresistible. With a passport clearly running out of pages she traverses the globe and sends back images which place you directly within the perspective of her lens. I have borrowed three of her images below. I chose them (not only because of the Bison milk bottle!) because they highlight to me the purity of her focus. We bonded over a love of colour and her subtle layering of tones is really refreshing. I'm sure we'll see a lot more of her work in the future. If I'm really lucky she may even bake me something!