Vladimir Kagan's Blog

HOW I BECAME AN AMATEUR COMPUTER GURU

Copyright Vladimir Kagan 2009

In the days before computers, there was the typewriter, a clattering tool that has played so many roles in movies and has inspired songwriters to incorporate the rhythmic clank into their compositions.

 

I was a youngster in High School, where they taught us all sorts of skills, BUT not the useful merits of typing. I had the wisdom to sign up for typing classes in the nearby YWCA. Probably as much for meeting the young girls in the class (I was the only boy) as much as learning this new skill. Not only did I realize the value of typing, but continued to take a course in Gregg Shorthand…that was truly a marginal skill in my career development but useful for taking notes in a lecture course.

 

I soon forgot my shorthand, but my typing has paid-off during my entire career. I felt it so important, that when I was first dating Erica and contemplated marriage, I made it a condition that she learn to type. (She NEVER did!) It showed the first crack in my many broken resolution over our lives together. She wrote 20 books and I, like a good husband, typed them all for her. I must confide to you, she scribbled in illegible long hand and could NEVER get it right the first time. Corrections were hell (you could not press the delete button, you had to rip up page after page of hard written copy and start over!) I am NOT a patient man and it is a wonder that we are still married after 52 years!

 

But I am digressing from the point. Remember the early days of computing? Not the mainframe stuff of offices but the Home Computer. I bought my first one at the insistence of my daughter Vanessa, who threatened to teach me how to use it. It was a small TV like box by Apple…the printers were impression type with continuous rolls of paper that rattled as loudly and without the rhythmic cadence of the typewriter. It was best to locate them in a separate room or closet. One feature of these early machines was: It was guaranteed that if you didn’t press the save button every ten minutes, you were sure to loose it in the next minute. There was a special feature called auto save that took me years to learn. The memory factor was painfully small and all items needed to be stored on small cassettes. Memory storage became more sophisticated: we went from cassettes, to external storage contraptions, to discs, to CDs and finally to memory sticks, and printers became small, silent plain paper varieties that break the bank replacing ink cartridges.

 

The industry moved at an alarmingly fast pace and you had to be a millionaire to keep up with the changes. It was well known that when Apple introduced a new model it was technically already obsolete. I moved “up” every few years behind the hotshots who kept up with the semiannual introductions. I remember my friend, Scott Morgan (a real computer Guru) trying to update me and fill my head with the new stuff that I couldn’t possibly understand. We moved from the TV box computer to the first laptops, heavy devices that were hardly portable. Bigger was better until you tried opening them in an economy seat on your flight to Timbuktu… the passenger in front of you invariably would crush your screen as he reclined his seat for the duration of the flight. In self-defense, I finally bought the smallest Mac with a 12” screen, so that I could work even as my fellow passenger was sleeping in my lap.

 

When it comes to computer designing, I am computer illiterate. I am truly at the kindergarten level of computerism. Students take three years to complete design courses. I do know how to hover over my assistants and guide their hands to the curves I want to express. (An often-frustrating experience when I remember how quickly I can do it with a pencil and paper.)

 

Today I am a computer renegade. While everyone else’s screen is a clean slate ready for the day’s work ahead, mine is a checkerboard of colored windows. I counted 94 open files! I am of the school that “A clean desk is the sign of a sick mind”. If I don’t see it in front of me…its lost in a hidden file. My computer looks like my desk. But,“chaque un a san gout” to each his own.

 

Over the years, I became quite proficient with this wonderful tool while Erica has remained in the dark ages. I still type her manuscripts, but with much less frustration…our marriage may last!... And oh yes, my daughter Vanessa now comes to me for computer guidance!

CONCRETE

Have I told you that I love concrete as a material…of course not?

 

You'd expect me to love wood as the tool of my trade. Well, I LOVE concrete! I love the civil engineers that create with this versatile material.

 

It seems that driving the streets of New York inspires my loftier thoughts. I have just driven to JFK airport on the Van Wyck Expressway. It is usually a jumble of cars and trucks outmaneuvering each other and jostling for the fastest lane. Today it was a tranquil drive. I had a chance to admire the amazing elevated rail system, AirTrain, that has been installed over the center lane of the highway.

I watched it being built over quite a few the years. A phenomena of engineering. Cast concrete towers rising one by one, (there are 482 of them over an 8 mile stretch), causing barely a disturbance of the traffic on the ground. I wondered how each disparate column would one day be married to each other in a continuous level suitable for a railroad.

 

Imperceptibly, segment by segment of precast trestles were hoisted off trucks and bolted into place. Until one day…Voila! It was completed and the conductor-less railroads, swish from the Airport to a terminal in Queens. Elevated systems usually hover like low clouds over roadways, blocking sunlight and vistas. Not this one. It rises 00' over the ground and forms a graceful ribbon in the sky.

My infatuation with concrete doesn't stop there. I simply worship Bridges and flyovers! Those high arches that span ten lanes highways or connect huge chasms between rivers and gullies hundreds of feet below. Or the banked ribbons of roadways that divert traffic in myriad directions with graceful sculptured curves interlacing each other. I cannot find enough praise in my vocabulary to laud these Civil Engineers who have created these unsung masterpieces. These are my heroes.

 

However, there is one architect whose bridges do not go unheralded. Santiago Calatrava of Spain: His graceful pedestrian and traffic bridges are the ultimate use of concrete. It is amazing how he marries utility and grace into one sculptured entity. His buildings are equally spectacular: from the Eye in Valencia, to the train station in Lisbon, to his new proposed PATH station at the World Trade Center. His genius is unending.

FALL BASEBALL

I am not a baseball fan…at least not until the World Series. Then the adrenaline starts flowing and my old instincts of years ago return.

 

I used to play stickball on the streets of New York. West 97th Street between the drive and where West End Avenue slopes severely downhill. The little, red hard ball we played funny tricks with us as it bounced off our broomsticks. We played in total disregard of the traffic trying to pass through. From the street games, I graduated to softball, and then to hardball in summer camps and in the public schools I attended. I remember loving my glove more than the actual game…maturing the leather with Kneed ford oil and shaping it around the ball. I don't remember what position I played nor being a particularly noteworthy player. But all those vague memories return each fall with the start of the Series. I become an expert in judging the lineup, marveling at the grips of the pitchers…their fastballs, their knuckle balls and their amazing curves. Watching on high resolution TV, the ball practically lands in your lap. I am amazed with the pitcher's elaborate windup and the ballet-like coordination of his body that thrusts the ball at 90 miles per hour. The subtle signals of the catcher, the postulation of the batters and the amazing grace of the outfielders catching a fly ball at the brink of the wall.

Having said this, watching nine innings of baseball is second almost as boring as watching a cricket match. It is an act of endurance. It is three hours of strategy with the occasional surge of inconceivable action. But if you get bored with the pace of the game…what's really entertaining is the amount of spitting! This is truly a phenomenon reserved for baseball. Where, when and why did chewing of tobacco, gum, gat or what ever they masticate on [sunflower seeds], come from? Has anyone kept track of these disgorges? The player's records show almost every other achievement in their career why not tabulate this?.... If for no other reason than to make the Guinness Book of Records!

A Drive Through New York

I have always admired Sir Norman Foster's prismatic glass building looming amongst the skyscrapers of New York. A refreshing monolithic tower reflecting the sunlight and images of the buildings surrounding it. I've seen it from the Hudson River Drive, from the New Jersey approach to the Lincoln Tunnel and from my client's high-rise apartment windows. I have never seen it from the ground up until a few days ago.

Driving up 8th Avenue, in New York, (I normally go 6th Avenue) I came across the shell of the classic Beaux Arts Hearst building designed by Joseph Urban and completed in 1928 just before the great Depression. It was intended to be base of a skyscraper that never happened until 2006. And now, rising out of its top, like Vesuvius exploding, is Foster's Jack-in-the-box, glass tower. It is incongruous. No relationship to the landmark building he was forced to integrate. It was like, “what the hell…if we can't continue the theme, let's ignore it.” It is a sad to see this landmark architecture grow out of the head of the old Hearst building. (Frankly, I would not have liked the challenge to design it…but it is easier to criticize than to create.) 

To placate me, some friends from the Hearst organization are inviting me to see their splendid restaurant that is blossoming on the inside. (I will report on this later.)

Speaking of restaurants, I was recently involved with designing the seating for the brand new restaurant at the Museum of Art and Design on Columbus Circle in New York. Here too is a rework of what should have been a Landmark Building. Originally designed by Edward Durell Stone, in 1964, as the Huntington Hartford Museum, it has lain dormant for years on what is one of New York's prettiest sites. It was not a great piece of architecture but bore the unmistakable handwriting of the architect; the sculptural cast concrete curtain-wall.  I was sad to see it replaced with Mondrian like slashes of marble and glass. However, now that the old façade is gone, WOW, how it has enhanced the interior. The architects, Allied Works Architecture, have retained a hint of the original concrete face as decoration in the lobby. Having removed the façade, they were able to push the building out form the inside, gaining an additional 8' of interior space. The mostly windowless interior functions perfectly to display the Museum's diverse exhibits. We viewed the exhibit: Slash - paper under the knife, which is an impressively curated show illustrating the most astounding works by artists worldwide. Next, we enjoyed a diminutive exhibit: Read My Pins - Madeleine Albright's sassy collection of pins with a message. This is a gem of a show both for content and display. Who would have guessed that this pillar of diplomacy had a passion for jewels?

The new restaurant, Robert at the Museum of Art and Design, is still a work in progress. It is situated on the 9th floor with a superb view of Columbus Circle, Central Park and up Broadway. It is literally a glitter of lights. The Restaurant is the brainchild of Dr. Brian Saltzman, who, when not an entrepreneur, is an Infectious Diseases specialist. Together with his partner Michael Weinstein of Ark Restaurants,they have pulled together the finest elements for this gem. Michael is no amateur in the restaurant business; he owns dozens of them around the country. Aside from my sofas, the space glitters with a brand new reissue of Pierre Paulin's Lucite Flower chairs. Really comfortable dining chairs by Phillipe Starck, stainless steel and glass dining tables by the English architect Michael Wolfson and lighting by Johanna Grawunder. The space is an over-the-top luxury environment where Brian's imagination took wings. A must see, once the Restaurant opens on November 16th.

HOW I BECAME A SCULPTOR

Sculpture is a new departure for me, though it is at the root of all of my designs….it has lain dormant for over sixty years. 

It all began earlier this year with a visit to Los Angeles to introduce my “Lost Masterpieces” at the Pucci showroom. Ralph and I were strolling through the new SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills, when I casually mentioned how I would love to make some furniture in Fiberglas. This ignited a light in Ralph's mind. “You know that I manufacture Fiberglas mannequins, it would be a cinch for me to make your designs!” I said, “OK, when?” thinking this would be out in never-never land. Ralph's reply, “Let's start next week!” Working from miniature models I had made as studies for new designs, we evolved a full size prototype in clay in the Pucci studio. The chair quickly morphed into a piece of functional sculpture, which prompted Ralph to say, “How about creating some sculpture for my winter fashion show?”… A concept light years away from my thoughts.

However, over the summer, this became an irresistible challenge and in the tranquility of my garden in Nantucket, I started to work on a series of mockups in clay. The more I developed these miniatures, the more intriguing the project became. Ralph loved my concepts and proceeded to evolve them into full-size sculptures for casting in Fiberglas. The result of this joyful labor will be introduced this coming December, at Ralph Pucci's heralded fashion show.

My career has come full circle. I am finally fulfilling my youthful dream of becoming a sculptor. Quite coincidentally, I am following in my Father's footsteps. He too aspired to be a sculptor before becoming the master cabinetmaker that he was all of his life. When he finally retired at age 80, he too turned to his first love: Sculpting. He spent the next ten years of his life, prolifically creating the most amazing sculpture: some monumental, others diminutive, all carved in wood, the material of his life's work.

Though I too have reached the age of Wisdom, (eighty-two years) I do hope to continue creating cutting edge designs in furniture that complement my love of sculpture.
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RECENT HIGHLIGHTS

In April, Vladimir partnered with KENZO to bring out his newest Italian collection at the Salone Internazionale del Mobile, with a freestanding showroom on Via Durini, the most prestigious furniture street in Milan called, "Kenzo Meets Kagan". 

In May, Mr. Kagan was back in school! He gave the 2009 Commencement Address at the New York School of Interior Design. Vladimir received an honorary doctorate after telling students that hard times may lie ahead but that opportunities exist for creative designers.

In June, Vladimir was bestowed the prestigious Award of Distinction, by The Furniture Society, at their annual conference in Boone, North Carolina. This group represents the finest woodworkers in America, and Mr. Kagan felt very honored to be recognized by them.

At the recent International Home Furnishings Market in High Point, NC, Mr. Kagan was one of three guest speakers extolling the need for sustainability in the home furnishing industry. He shared the podium with Alexander Julian, and Thom Falicia.

Kagan, Julian, and Filicia