Vladimir Kagan's Blog

Madness at the MAD Museum

The MAD Museum finally has its MAD show

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, March 27, 2016

The Kagan team - Chris Eitel, my design director - me - Illya Kagan, my son the artist

“I’m just a guy who can’t say no!” I go to every party. I even fly across the continent when sent tickets. But, for once in my life I passed on an opportunity. This time I really regret not showing up for a book signing for Flemish designer Jobs Smeet and his Dutch partner, Nynke Tynagel of Studio Job, My rational? “Who needs another book for my already overflowing bookshelves?”

Sprawling over two floors of the MAD Museum, (Museum of Art and Design) in New York, just opened a new exhibit for Studio Jobs. These ‘guys’ are at the top of the heap of ‘wacky’; a new genre of designer/artists working on the fringe. They dissect, they ridicule, they question the obvious, the rational and the logic. They spew out an obtuse, gobble of kitsch, and “fringe-art”. Smeet and Tynagel are geniuses of the genre.

In this genre you can count Jeff Koons as the most successful, so is my friend Sebastian Errazuriz and now, with this ‘one-man’ show we have Studio Jobs. It’s the 21^st Century version of Memphis. It is high-class camp. The works are magnificently executed.

Stained glass windows, marquetry in precious woods, traditional Belgium cut and tinted glass vessels dominate the exhibit. At first glance, you see heroic tributes to the mundane, but not to be taken seriously, they stick their thumbs at the public and their patrons. The subject matter is as diverse as the imaginations that created them.

When the artists had a romantic break-up, they created a train wreck of painstakingly modeled steam engines colliding head on. A cloud of highly polished bronze smoke is pouring out of the smokestack coalescing into a hammered polished tabletop, juxtaposed to the chaos that created it. The symbolic statement: out their personal chaos comes a darn good business relation that can be successful.

  

A beautifully sculpted horse’s head with flaring nostrils and color-changing eyes is mounted on a perfect replica of a tank vacuum cleaner, a tribute to Jeff Koons. An illuminated 12 foot high tower, Burj Khalifa, the tallest building in the world is being climbed by a humongous “King Kong” and circled by propeller driven airplanes. It’s symbolic message is ???? A stained glass window commissioned by a Dutch doctor for his office, depicts the creation of life intermingling with Christian symbolism, a reference to the church opposite the doctor’s office. Syringes, a baby with its umbilical cord being cut, test tubes and dispensing bottles of poison. There is an ordinary garden spigot, four times its normal size ridiculing a modern fountain as it drips droplets of water into a pail. Tynagel and Smeet are precise artists, rendering each concept with meticulous details. Their imagination bursts with ideas for their sculptures. They work in a 20,000 square foot studio with 20 artisans executing their outlandish concepts.

 

               

 

I'm thinking about giving up designing comfortable furniture, when I can make much more money designing non-sitable sculpture!

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Notice the sketch shows the Stars and Striped while the model has a Union Jack! Is that political politeness?

The 'Critic' doing the show!

Every work has a message and a double entendre. It’s a formula for a very complex rational. The show will run through August 21. I thoroughly enjoyed it, I hope you will too.

Mid-Century Modern in Palm Springs

From Palm Beach to Palm Springs

An Odyssey

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, February 20, 2016

In November of 2015 a conspiracy was launched to drag me from the East Coast to the West Coast: Palm Beach to Palm Springs. That didn’t sound too daunting all those months ago, but as time grew closer, the reality set in. Why leave Florida’s sunny beaches for California’s arid deserts? Answer: They needed a feature speaker for Palm Spring’s Modernism Week –Who better than me? I could talk up a storm about Mid-Century Modern.

This is what the road into the desert should look like unless you have a four and a half hour traffic jam! 

 

Michael Boodro, the editor of Elle Décor, was to moderate the event. Smart, poignant questions were floated. Michael requested a short Power Point presentation to illustrate my thoughts. ‘Short’ is not in my make-up – “More is more, is more like me.” I prepared a lovely talk with over 150 slides. Editors being editors, Michael pared it down to 45! 

Michael Boodro, Editor Elle Decor, Michael Hinkle, Manager, Donor Relations and myself, previewing the slides for the lecture

                                                                                                    photo Lani Garfield

 

(See the Q&A’s between Michael and myself at the bottom of this article)

The Palm Springs Art Museum has the magnificent Annenberg Theater that can seat four hundred-thirty-three people. That was to be my stage! (Empty seats are the kiss-of-death for a performer.) To my surprise they sold over three hundred tickets and at the book signing that followed, I scribbled my notes, sketches and good wishes into over 125 books! The Mid-Century is alive and flourishing in California!

 

 

 

Elisabeth Armstrong, the Executive Director of the Palm Springs Art Museum and me before my lecture

  
 

   

I loved the spacious open plan of the museums architecture and the use of local lava stones to veneer the exterior walls

Here is where I got 'artsy' and created an abstract photo of the Museum's interior.

 

The Museum has a huge footprint for a small community. It even has a separate building, totally dedicated to architecture and design, converted from a seventies bank designed by E. Stewart Williams a celebrated local architect.

 

photo   Dan Chavkin

 

The Museum is blessed with members who have a big hearts and deep pockets. But, like everywhere else, prying their hands out their pockets takes skill.  But enough of the community’s patrons have made this small museum an architectural treasure with a significant collection.

 

The Henry Moore Sculpture Exhibit on the ground floor

     
The Museum's magnificent exhibit of Henry Moore Sculptures on loan from a local collector, shown with photos of the sculptures  in their garden setting.

 

Meandering through the museum, I found art that amuses me... it may not be a critic's choice, but it's mine    

 

A sculpture made entirely of steel cubes

 

A spoof of a car and the ubiquitous installation art of trash bags, except these were executed in bronze!

Taking a leaf out of my friend Seward Johnson's sculpture, this couple is waiting to converse with you.Just pull up a chair!

And especially for me, a luscious nude, real enough to cuddle - (where did Henry Moore find his models? Ha ha)

Every museum needs a Chihuly - thanks to his high level of productivity, every museum can own one!

Louise Bourgeois' Spider creeping up the wall. I saw a thirty foot tall version at the Tate. Does size make it more valuable?  Is it more art?

This giant Puppy is entirely made of felted wool.

A wonderful horse, made out of desert drift-wood and cast in bronze.

The museum's two upper floors are divided into focused exhibits: one is dedicated to the core concern of all Westerners - water, another exhibits beautiful indian pottery and jewelry, there is superb contemporary glass. I could have spent the day, but my rule of thumb is that you don't spend the day in a museum when the sun is shining...

 

My book signing was a breeze, in the museum's garden, under a half moon, with balmy temperatures and plenty of food and booze to keep everyone happy. I could have signed all night,  but my hosts' were getting hungry and squirreled me off to a fancy, noisy restaurant for a delicious Valentine's Day dinner.

A stack of books awaiting my signature

One of the celebrity guests at the event, my friend Trina Turk, the fashion designer

 

I traveled with Mark Minichiello, the COO of my company, whose mission was to make certain that I didn’t get into trouble with a buxom starlet. I was hoping that he’d bring back a whopping big order! He succeeded in the first mission, but fell short in the second.

Mark is a man of military precision. I did not know that when I read his resume. He plans ahead like a drill sergeant, which is quite contrary to me. I live on ‘Kagan time’, which has suited me for quite a few years, but I may have to change my watch to accommodate Mark.

 The weekend was delightful, plenty of time to relax by the pool and acquire an instant suntan; I was squired from cocktail parties to receptions and dinners. Star status has its advantages.

Our departure from Palm Springs was delayed due to inclement weather in New York. We managed to squeeze in two more days in paradise. Back east this is considered a boondoggle – out west it’s just the right thing to do.

On our drive from L.A. to Palm Springs we encountered a typical California four-and-a-half hour traffic jam. Mark was not about to let this happen again. He plotted our return four days in advance and with careful calculations, determined our departure needed to be 7:45 AM. At the precise moment of our scheduled departure, the electric lock in my hotel room hopelessly jammed. We were prisoners in my room. A half hour later with the help of a three-man maintenance crew, we were finally set free. Mark’s veins were popping in his forehead. In my Blyth spirit, I found it amusing and apropos to what can go wrong when you plan too seriously ahead. In the end, all went well and we made it to the airport two hours before our flight. 

The rescue team that pried open the door 

 

As a farewell present to our friends in California, it actually started to rain as we were departing!

 

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The Q & A session with Michael Boodro of Elle Décor Magazine

The connection between modernism and decorative arts.  Why do you think so many modernists were antagonistic toward decoration?

Modern was driven by a mission for purity – less is more - decoration is a sin. 

I embrace decoration as part of my design esthetic! I come from a family that worshipped the decorative arts. My father had two art-galleries in Germany; He sold the works of Deutche Werkstätte and Wiener Werkstätte including creations by Joseph Hoffman and Eileen Grey. The range of products included metal work, leatherwork, bookbinding, jewelry and ceramics.

   

On the opposite site of the spectrum was my grandfather’s shop. Volkskunsthaus Wallach, in Munich, focused on folk-art from painted furniture, printed textiles, and accessories. My father hated my grandfather’s taste and vise-versa. I lived with both. Combining decorative arts and modern was a natural.

That's my mother, age 18, sitting in her father's shop

Many of your designs—even pieces from the 40s—seem so modern as to be futuristic, but you have always looked to natural and organic forms. How do you make organic inspirations seem so contemporary?

It was my devotion to the Bauhaus philosophy that stimulated my earliest modern esthetic. Before my work became ‘amorphous’ I was a devotee of linear design. My studies in architecture found expression in my first furniture designs.

I developed a corollary between modern and organic forms. . My organic shapes follow the human body. I design ‘vessels’ to hold the body. Human anatomy is not angular.

However, I have always been under the influence of Bauhaus ideology. “Less is more.,” meant eliminating clutter. A large amorphous sofa could seat ten to twelve people and eliminated the clutter of chairs. The second inspiration was, “Form follows function,” an admonition to create comfort. No piece of furniture, no matter how beautiful, is functional unless it is also comfortable or useful 

 

Why are your designs timeless?

I have always understood the need to restrain the superfluous. I design disciplined, structurally rational lines.

What has changed home design over the past fifty years?

Apartment living has accelerated the shrinking space. I anticipated this in the 60’s and 70’s and designed the Omnibus Sectional Sofa Collection to accommodate smaller spaces. Omnibus was designed to float in the middle of a room, the sections are relatively small, built for apartment living and each element can be assembled like a ‘Lego’ construction. Not all spaces have shrunk. There are today’s affluent young. They live in multi-million dollar apartments and villas, decorated by trendy interior designers. Thankfully, these are my clients, – My design philosophy suits their 21^st Century esthetic. 

You have seen so many styles/trends come and go—you have ridden the wave, a few, such as Post-modernism, you embraced yourself.  You have been in and out of fashion; embraced by Tom Ford and Bill Sofield at Gucci in the nineties. Did that surprise you? It seems you are more ubiquitous in high design than you ever were. How does that feel?

 With my celebrity clients like Tom Ford, Sir Elton John, Tommy Hilfiger, and Angelina Jolie, I floated to the top of the heap. Yes, that is very satisfying. Staying on top, however, takes work. Coming up with new creativity is inspiring and challenging and keeps me energized. Did I ever fathom it would happen? NO. Will I ever retire? Hell NO.

How do you feel about your early work being considered collectible, even as you create new pieces?

It is very flattering that my early works have retained their value and those children that have inherited their parents early Kagans are very lucky indeed. It is flattering that when my furniture comes up at auction, it brings ever-increasing prices.

An Ode to a Bridge

In Celebration of the George Washington Bridge

Copyright Vladimir Kagan December 20, 2015

I cross the GWB (George Washington Bridge) four or five times a week to and from my studio in Clifton N.J. Thousands of cars and trucks join me each day. For trucks it’s the only route between Manhattan and New Jersey as they are banned from the tunnels.  This enormous overpass is the conduit for millions of cars each year. It boasts the most traffic of any suspension bridge in the world.

To pass the time, I am on my cell phone or directing the Uber driver to ignore the ‘Google lady’ giving him wrong directions. Though the view is spectacular, I take it for granted! I seldom look out of the window.

That’s a huge mistake!

One day I took a moment to look-up and rediscovered this magnificent structure. The realization that mere humans conceived this gorgeous bridge was mind-boggling.  Engineers and architects, whose names have long been forgotten and the hundreds of human hands brought it to fruition. And yes, the forgotten workers whose lives were lost in its building.

         

 

I was awe-struck by the massive chunks of concrete anchoring the cables at each end. It is unfathomable to contemplate the amount of concrete needed to create them. Imagine the number of cement trucks it would take to build such a mass. (The builders wisely had their own cement factory on sight.) Visualize the teams of men riveting each red-hot rivet into the superstructure. Squint into the sun and look at the height of the towers and the cables extending from them. Then imagine tiny men manipulating strands of steel stretched across the river’s span. If you are lucky, you might see the high-wire-act of today’s maintenance crews painting every inch of the bridge or servicing the string of light bulbs along its cables.

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I have a wonderful connection to this bridge!

 In my early teens, I lived on Riverside Drive and 103^rd Street, in a gracious old building with a wire-caged elevator and a spectacular view of the Hudson River. I would often sit in our living room window and paint the changing seasons on the river. With a little stretch of the neck I could see the GW Bridge off in the distance.

My water color painting of Ice on the Hudson River - circa 1943

Though I was a good student in most subjects, I had a terrible time with math! I couldn’t visualize the hypotheses of mathematical formulas; algebra, geometry and trigonometry stifled me. I could not accept a theoretical truth.  If it wasn’t visual, I flunked the test. 

A few floors above our apartment lived a friend of my family, David Bernard Steinman. D. B. Steinman, as he was known to all. Mr. Steinman was an affable man who loved puffing on his pipe and explaining the theories of mathematics to me. He made mathematics visual. D.B. Steinman was not a tutor; he was the world’s foremost bridge designer!

D.B. Steinman was born on the lower east side in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge. He fell in love with Roebling’s masterpiece and determined … he wanted to become a designer and builder of bridges. At age thirteen, he was the youngest pupil admitted to City College.  He graduated with honors and went on to Columbia University receiving his PhD in engineering. 

His career as a consulting engineer struggled for a number of years. He recalled … his first consulting fee was $5! Ten years later he was offered a job to work with Holton Robinson, who built the Manhattan and Williamsburg bridges across the East River in New York.  Mr. Holton wanted to enter a competition to build the Florianopolis Bridge in Brazil. The firm won the competition largely due to D. B. Steinman’s revolutionary new concepts for suspension spans. The Florianopolis Bridge was hailed worldwide as a huge success.  His revolutionary concept laid the foundation for the successful design of the George Washington Bridge, which at the time was twice the length of any suspension bridge ever built.

In addition to the Florianopolis Bridge, Mr. Steinman’s list of successes include the Henry Hudson Bridge and the Triborough Bridge in NY, the Mt. Hope Bridge connecting Providence with Newport, the Mackinac Bridge in Michigan and the Messina Straight Bridge linking Italy with Sicily. One of his favorite projects was the commission to modernize the Brooklyn Bridge, the first love of his life. D.B was an avid writer and wrote many books of poetry and the best selling ‘The History of the Brooklyn Bridge’ and ‘The Biography of the Roeblings, THE BUILDING OF THE BRIDGE.’ 

In his memoirs Mr. Steinman gave words to his meaning of a bridge: “A bridge is more than a thing of steel and stone: it is the fulfillment of human dreams to link together distant places. A bridge is more than a problem in stresses and strains; it is a challenge and an opportunity to create the beautiful.”  

He and I would sit for hours discussing bridges. The conversation would eventually be intermingled with the explanation of the bridge structure’s connection to math.  His patience and love of math helped me to understand the theories of math well enough to pass my exams!

During our chats, he explained how the Tacoma Washington Bridge disaster could have been averted with a simple sea anchor to stop the oscillation that finally tore the bridge apart. He explained his theory of how a bridge could be built over the New York Harbor, even though it was considered impossibility at the time.  His dream became the Verrazano Bridge. He described how the George Washington Bridge was designed to be clad with steel plates like the Golden Gate Bridge, but it was decided that the structure was too beautiful to be hidden. When I first saw the GW Bridge, it had only one deck!  He explained that the clever engineers envisioned one-day, the increased traffic would need additional roadways and so their original design factored-in the second level.

These pieces of knowledge have stayed with me for sixty odd years, imbedded in my mind forever through the teachings of the indomitable D.B. Steinman.

Today, I no longer keep my head down. I love the approach to the bridge from the Henry Hudson Parkway. It looms up through the fog, glistens in the rain or shimmers in the sunlight. This massive work of art is nearly eighty-five years old and still one of the great wonders of the world. Next time you have a chance to cross the Hudson, enjoy all that is before your eyes. 

New Canaan, home to classic modern.

A Walk In the Country

In Search of Modern

PART 1

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, December 2, 2015 

 

A few weeks ago, I lauded my friend Zaha Hadid.

This time I sing my praise to two Japanese architects, Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa of the firm SANAA. Both Zaha Hadid and SANAA have won the Pritzker Award; both are at the peak of their success; both compete for the same projects.

There is a tug-of-was between the deconstructionism of Zaha Hadid and Frank Gehry vs. the esthetic understatement of Mssrs. Kazuyo Sejima and Ryue Nishizawa. Both styles are important statements of the 21^st centuries. One is explosive, a tribute to modern technology; the other a return to the drawing board. Neither could achieve their masterpieces without the 21st Century’s new technology.

I had recently received an invitation to a luncheon at Philip Johnson’s ‘Glass House’ in New Canaan Connecticut and used this occasion to explore the newly opened ‘Grace Farms’ near by.

This is a Blog in Two Parts for you to enjoy both properties

 

Though the weather started grey and raining, it was a beautiful fall day in Connecticut. The trees were in full color and the ground covered in glistening golden leaves like a carpet.

    

A carpet of fall leaves

Our destination was New Canaan long known for its iconic mid-century modern architecture spearheaded by The Harvard Five, a young architectural cooperative back in 1949: Marcel Breuer, Landis Gores, John Johansen, Philip Johnson, Eliot Noyes and my old skiing and sailing buddy, John Black Lee. They were affordable modern houses; some two stories others ranch, nestled into the woods, often precariously cantilevered on jagged granite boulders protruding out of the ground. My son-in-law’s mother lives in one of them - A little gem perched on top of one of these boulders.

 

Early 50's houses in New Canaan designed by The Harvard Five Architectural Group

Too many of these gems were demolished by enterprising builders and replaced with hideous “McMansions” and clapboard houses that now dot the neighborhoods - all too readily visible behind the historic stonewalls so ubiquitous in this part of Connecticut. Mercifully, the town fathers of New Canaan finally came to their senses and put a stop to this destruction. Today, what’s left of these examples of mid-century modern is landmarked!

 

 

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Our destination was the Philip Johnson Glass House. A return to a landmark I had written about a few years ago in one of my earlier Blogs. The centerpiece of the property is the Glass House. Its primary purpose was for entertaining. However, behind a partition wall was a beautiful bedroom open to the sky and the prowling deer; it was for show only or the occasional privileged guest. The bathroom has a secret tunnel that leads to the real sleeping quarters some hundred feet away!

 

The Philip Johnson Glass House was a tribute to his friend Ludwig Mies van der Rohe

 

The occasion of our visit was a private viewing of the paintings by Enoc Perez; huge wall to wall, floor to ceiling paintings of Philip Johnson’s pink granite office tower nicknamed the ‘Lipstick’. The event was a discreet fundraiser sponsored by Peter Brand and his lovely wife Stephanie Seymour Brant, both great patrons of the arts. My friend Amy Lau managed to get us invitations for this event. 

   

Enrico Perez with Scott Dreving, Deputy Director of the Glass House and Amy Lau and myself

(photo Patrick McMullan)

 

Enrico Perez's striking paintings of the Lipstick Building

The Philip Johnson Compound was built in the 50’s on 49 acres of hilly wooded land. The property is a celebration in opulence; money well spent on the indulgence of beauty. Each structure is a tribute to Philip Johnson’s fertile and whimsical mind. All the buildings on the rambling property are accessible by footpath only. It is a sybaritic treat.

Age has its privilege  - I was comfortably transported in a golf cart from building to building

 

Tucked into the landscape discreetly away from the other buildings is a window-less fortress constructed entirely of bricks. Intimate on the inside with a fireplace, it has a huge elliptical opening in the ceiling that emits a glow of indirect lighting. This quite sanctuary houses Mr. Johnson library.

The library is a foreboding windowless structure (though hidden from view is a nice window into the woods)

   

Mr. Johnson's library was a place for peace and solitude

 

In a dell near the entrance to the woods is the ‘Ghost House’, designed by Johnson with his friend Frank Gehry as a sanctuary for growing Lilies. The two architects gleefully thought they had outwitted the ever-prowling deer on the property. Of course the deer outsmarted them and enjoyed munching on the succulent deer-candy flowers.   All that remained of the flowers were stems. The very ethereal look of this building gave it its name ‘Ghost House’!

   

The Ghost House was conceived as an outdoor shelter for growing lilies. It is tucked into the woods and is virtually invisible with its thin wire construction

 

A visit to the property would not be complete without venturing down the winding path through the woods to the Lincoln Kirstein tower and beyond that the bucolic pond with a miniature ‘floating’ pavilion that was Mr. Johnsons little ‘Folly”. He loved sitting there and contemplate the world.The Lincoln Kirstein Tower is an imposing sculpture, strategically placed at the edge of the woods overlooking the floating Pavilion.(it is interesting to note that Lincoln Kirstein was a good friend of my father and had Dad restore all the wooden sculpture of Eli Nadelman for a show at MOMA.)

    

 

 

Unfortunately, the beautiful White Sculpture Gallery with its subterranean caves was closed for repair. It houses Mr. Johnson’s diverse taste in sculpture from Greek Marbles to Frank Stella’s abstract constructions.

A view of the interior of the Sculpture House

 

At the top of the hill, near the ‘entrance to the property, is ‘The Monster’, an avant-garde building, created under the influence of Frank Gehry. It was the newest building on the property. Today, it serves as the welcome center for the complex.

 

The Monster guards the compound at the entrance - it is the most modernistic building on the property.

 (photo Patrick McMullan)

Almost invisible from sight with only a grass mount as a hint of something happening, is an underground bunker, reminiscent of a World War II airplane hanger. If the doors weren’t open, you’d pass it by completely. This is the treasure trove that houses Mr. Johnson’s phenomenal collection of modern art. – Three enormous carrousels of rotating panels conceal dozens, maybe hundreds of paintings to be viewed leisurely by rotating panel after panel.

The Gallery was set up for our little private luncheon

 (photo Patrick McMullan)

Lunch was a casual tête-à-tête with a group major art collectors and an interesting introduction to the works of Enoc Perez given by the host, Peter Brand. The luncheon was so hi-toned that only champagne or tea was served. I had no idea how addicted I was to my little dram of decaf coffee, and so a stop at the nearest Starbuck afterwards provided the right fix. 

TO BE CONTINUED

London - A short visit

A Nostalgic Visit To London

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, November 17, 2015

 

How does one describe a week in London, overshadowed by the recent tragedies in Paris?

Friday the 13^th took on new meaning. The shock waves arrived at a quiet dinner in an unprepossessing Indian restaurant.  The appalling news came via America. Billy, Jessica’s husbands called to ask “have you heard?” Once we turned on the ‘Telli’, the information flow went viral. CNN is macabre news reporting machine thriving on calamity. Their talking heads keep repeating their doomsday harangue none-stop.  My mother used to call it “oral diarrhea.” Thank you CNN – I am brainwashed.

 

But the subject of this Blog is Good Old London

My sister Tanya had lived there for twenty-six years. It was Erica’s and my second home for years. We both have mutual friends. This was a good opportunity to make a nostalgic visit before the Thanksgiving to Christmas holiday madness, when all our families take off in different directions.

 

Just like old times - brother and sister having a fun chat

 

First impression: Nothing has changed.  London is still a fuddy-duddy town. The plumbing is predictably archaic. After theater restaurants close their kitchens a mere thirty minutes after the last curtain fall.  Traffic comes at you from the wrong direction. Colossal traffic jams are endemic with Über cruisers cluttering the streets. When Obama comes to New York, a few lanes of Park Avenue are temporarily closed; when Mr. Mondi, India’s Prime Minister, comes to London the entire town grinds to a halt. 

That being said, the people are unchanged - lovable and friendly. An English Pub lunch is still the best bargain in town and a pint of bitters goes hand in glove with a ‘Steak and Kidney Pie’.

 

Jessica photographing our delicious pub lunch complete with pork-backs and other munchies. A half pint of bitters never tasted better with a steaming steak pie

Joe, Tanya's savvy driver

Joe has been Tanya’s driver for years. He knows the town like the palm of his hand. He wove us through back alleys and muses, barely wide enough for one car at a time and managed to thread us though London’s endemic bottlenecks.

 

London weather is always predictable, if the sky is sunny in the morning, rains showers are sure to follows. The weatherman can never go wrong forecasting “showers with intervals of sunshine.”  With Daylight Savings time, darkness descends early.  To compensate for this, the town is brightly lit with dazzling Christmas lights. You’d think the holiday was next week not next month.  Harrods is a gingerbread house lit by garlands of twinkling lights, not just for Christmas, but also year-round. It screams, “Buy – buy – buy.”

 

Christmas lighting to cheer up the early evening

 

My old friend, David Suratgar, as chipper as ever

The Westbury Hotel in Mayfair was perfectly located for the ladies to go shopping and me to visit the galleries around the corner. Gracious top-hatted doormen who can conjure up a taxi in minutes guard the Hotel entrance.

 

The hotel is home to a superb little Japanese restaurant, Tsukiji Sushi, which can hold its own against any fancy eatery in town. I made the mistake of dropping in at lunchtime with a visiting friend from Belgium, only to be turned away by a supercilious maitre D’ asking if I had a reservation – “DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S LUNCH TIME? WE ARE FULLY BOOKED!” who would have guessed!

However, everything in life has a purpose and we ventured into a most discreet restaurant decorated with wine bottles in glass coolers reaching from floor to the ceiling. The décor was subtle with the rich wood paneling finished in a deep shade of rosewood. Polite waiters and waitresses escorted you to your choice of tables. There were plenty of tables to choose from, as the only visible patrons were two tables with elegant Chinese patrons. We needed no reservation. It was so expensive that no self-respecting English man could afford it. The food was superb. Every dish was brought to the table with a prepared script recited by the wait-staff. It was worth the price of admission. The restaurant: Alyn Williams of Bond Street.

 

This gastronomic painting was my Foie Gras - the modest chocolate fondant took 20 minutes to prepare

 

Our hotel had recently embarked on a modernization program– a big mistake. The original rooms had an old world charm, a little shabby gentility but lots of closets, old fashioned bathrooms, ample lighting with crystal lamps and silk shades, drapes reminiscent of a Fortuny print. By contrast, the remodeled rooms were ‘moderne’ decorated with mirrors and inadequate lighting, bathrooms were fitted with the latest ‘English‘ toilets, (they were antediluvian) bathtubs with glass shower doors that only partially enclosed the tub so they permitted water to soak the towels, clothing and flood the floor (there were no hooks to hang anything). The Brits are talented designers when working in the genre of Christopher Wren, but fail miserably when it come to modern.

Finally –Architecture: London has radically changed, not for the better.  Monstrous shards of glimmering glass reach into the overcast skies. It is a litmus paper for the experimental flim-flam by the world’s leading architects. Norman Foster’s ‘Gherkin’ is no longer the tallest oddity on the horizon, but still looks like a pickle. Much of the architecture borders on weird – modern is not an English idiom.

   
 
   

Imaginative or just weird architecture along the Thames

 

Having moaned so seriously about my beloved England, there continues to be one praiseworthy constant, the LONDON TAXI!  They are the best in the world – both vehicles and drivers! It takes three years of studious studying to pass the test; the drivers are responsible for their car’s appearance so they are meticulously clean. The cars can turn on a dime, the passenger cab is commodious with jump seats to accommodate the four passenger legal limit but there is room for more.  The luggage space is generous and accommodates my walker, my wheel chair and four pieces of luggage.  Handicap access is thoughtful with handgrips at every possible location.  Finally, the passenger entrance provides a retractable platform for wheelchair access. There is one caveat: THEY ARE STAGGERINGLY EXPENSIVE!!!

 

Highlights of the week: 

• We were invited to Christies Auction House to watch a sale of ‘Chinese Jades and Bronzes’ selling at extravagant prices, all to Chinese bidders on the phone.  

All the audience was Chinese except for a handful of visitors

 

• A visit to the new Carpenters Workshop Gallery on Albemarle Street featured one of my Serpentine sofas. In the spring they will be launching my limited edition bronze furniture (See a preview of the designs in my new book VLADIMIR KAGAN on page 240 - 241)

My Serpentine Sofa is in good company with a Wendell Castle chair  and lighting by Nacho Carbonell

 

• While Jessica and my sister went shopping and did their cultural thing by visiting the  Ai Weiwei one-man exhibition at the Royal Academy, I perused showrooms and vintage galleries that featured my designs.  It was fun walking in unannounced and discussing the authenticity of my designs.

 

 • There were endless teas and dinners with old friend. One noteworthy discovery was a small Italian restaurant run by a bevy of adorable Italian daughters called ‘Pizzicotta’ in Kensington on High Street.

 

• A delightful lunch with Zaha Hadid in her new Gallery at 101 Goswell Rd, her private museum until she can move it into the abandoned London Design Museum she had purchased a few years ago. The Gallery is a collection of her far-reaching diverse work.  There were exquisite models of her newest buildings, (Buck Roger’s dream cities from the 50s come to life), her unique sculptured furniture, cars, boats, shoes, handbag – Zaha leaves nothing untouched. Each item bears her unique signature style. Zaha is a genius.  

A jovial lunch with Zaha and a selfie by Jessica

test-driving one of Zaha's sofas or is it a love-seat?

 

Zaha's Louis Vuitton handbag

   

A concept car and the staircase in Zaha's gallery

 

A display of Zaha's high-rise building concepts

   

This a "molten glass table" carved in clear acrylic

 

A concept model for an architectural sculpture

Me telling Zaha that she should make her seating more comfortable - ha ha!

 

 

• A visit to Wallpaper Magazine, who likes my work and me. Their creative director Sarah Douglas is as pretty as she is bright. Look for future collaborations. 

 

• Commuting toward the eastern reaches of London is quickest done by boat.  A half hour high-speed ferry up (or is it down) the Thames to the Isle of Dogs. 

     

I love bridges - especially their underbelly 

We were invited for an English tea by our friends Michael and Jenny Barracloughs. Though Michael is a medical doctor, he has a dual degree in architecture and has spent most of his life dedicated to turning the Isle of Dogs from a wasteland into an attractive habitable place. There are low-rise residential buildings occupied by young families and often their parents who were the original occupants of the island.

Michael has made certain that not all the island be built on and managed to preserve 60 acres of land for a park not devoted to Cricket Pitches, but to a working farm for city kids to feel and enjoy the county. Some 50 years ago, when Michael and Jenny built their cantilevered house over the Thames opposite Greenwich, they were the only occupants on the island.

 

The view from Jenny and Michael's house: Greenwich and the Cutty Sark

Michael and Jessica standing in front of a World War II Ack-ack gun that helped save most of London from the German bombings.

Jenny and me clowning around at tea - I'm trying on one of her exotic necklaces as a head decoration

 

• No trip to London is complete without Jessica perusing the Portobello Market. She chose a rainy Saturday to discover hidden treasures. Rain obviously doesn’t deter the English – the market was filled to the hilt.

 

 

   

Farewell at the Westbury -Tanya and 'Issy' her friend - Joe our driver, and the friendly top-hatted doorman

 

 The week evaporated into a kaleidoscope of events.  Now back in New York I’m trying to decipher them for your entertainment.

 

 

 

Zaha Hadid - the Doyen of Modern Architecture

 

 

The Indomitable Zaha Hadid 

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, October 6, 2015

 

There is no glass ceiling that can hold back Zaha Hadid – she has catapulted through shatterproof glass and is today, the best modern architect in the World. Zaha is a force to be reckoned with, the most creative architect in the 21^st Century. She has out-curved Frank Gehry and Santiago Calvatava, the acknowledged masters of the genre. Zaha is the only woman to win the Pritzker award – the World Series of architecture. Awards have been piling up ever since.

 

She is not a computer doodler. Zaha draws. She visualized her creative concepts in sketches with bold curvilinear strokes. She is my friend and hero; she inspires my work and she tells me that I have inspired hers.

 

Zaha paints her concepts. Only after she is happy with the design does she interpreter them on the computer.

Top: Zaha's rendering for the Vitra fire station ca. 1991 Bottom: her concept for the KMR Art and Media Center in Dusseldorf Germany

 

She is worshiped for her lyrical curved stadiums, undulating museums and amorphous concert halls. She prefers horizontal to vertical architecture. Her sprawling lines are inspired by the topography of the rolling landscape. As a proponent of linear design, designing a high-rise building imposes limitations to her creativity. The Zaha Hadid most of you recognize today was not always curvilinear – before anyone heard of Zaha, her work was angular with sharp shards of concrete soaring skyward.

  

I met Zaha in the early 1990s when she was commissioned to design the fire station for the Vitra Campus in Weil am Rhine, Germany. Vitra is an innovative Swiss company dedicated to classic modern furniture and accessories. The new building was radical and its interior disorienting. The good German bürger-firemen assigned to the building refused to work in it. Rolf Fehlbaum, Vitra’s owner got the message and immediately put it to a better use. He turned it into an adjunct of his fledgling Vitra Museum. This was Zaha’s first building and kick-started her career on the road to fame.

 

 

The Vitra Fire Station 1993, with its stark angular deconstructionist esthetic

Cincinnati's Contemporary Art Center 2003. A masterpiece of compact use of space, delineated with strong horizontal blocks of concrete interspersed with glass

In both these examples of her early work, Hadid's work is strongly angular

The Phaeno Science Center in Wolfsburg, Germany, was completed in 2005. It looks to me like a giant battleship at anchor.

By 2005, Zaha softened her lines with introductions of curves. the BMW Plant in Leipzig, Germany

Abandoning angles and radical slashing lines, Zaha created a soft amorphous shells for the Nordpark Rail Station in Innsbruck, Austria 2007

 

Interpreting a gentle wave breaking on shore, this is Zaha's famous Aquatic Centre in London 2011

The swimming pools and high-diving platform in the Aquatic Centre

By 2013 Zaha became totally lyrical. This undulating curved roof seems impossible to create in concrete and glass. The Heydar Allyev Center in Baku, Azerbaijan 

Pure sculpture dominates the interior of the center

 

 

Zaha was in New York last weekend for the New Yorker Festival, an annual event sponsored by the New Yorker Magazine.  As usual, she took the architectural community by storm. The waiting line of people at the School Of Visual Art’s Theater on West 23^rd Street stretched for one block around Eighth Avenue. John Seabrook, The New Yorker’s writer on design did a lively interview with Zaha, accentuating the depth of her commitments to complexity and precession. She explained how, with the use of fiber concrete she has been able to create seamless surfaces using vacuum bagging. 

To design the Aquatic Centre for the London Summer Olympics, Zaha looked at the harbor and envisioned connecting water back into the city. Her vision was to create liquid space.

Her sprawling public spaces are inspired by flow and movement. She told us that one of her most complex project was the theatre, library and museum in Azerbaijan, integrating three separate functioning entities into one flowing movement. 

One of Zaha's latest endeavor is the building of the parliament and central bank in Baghdad, her native home. 

Zaha is finally adding her imprimatur to the New York skyline with an eleven story residential building on 520 West 28^th Street, at the High Line in this rapidly gentrified Chelsea neighborhood. The building is a futuristic fantasy of 39 apartments with prices ranging from $4.5 million to $50 million!

 

520 West 28th Street

 The facade undulates and there are definite Hadid touches but the limitations of a high-rise structure are apparent in this New York Condo.it lacks the grandeur of her free-flowing spirit

 

Zaha’s designs are super expensive to build. Are they cost effective? Was the Parthenon or Versailles? Zaha’s work is linear sculpture in motion that liberates design from the pull of gravity. It is a joy that in today’s budget conscious bean-counter society, there are visionaries willing to build a 21^st Century Taj Mahal.

   

I Love this ski-jump tower in Austria 

...and this amazing bridge (don't know whee it is)

 

 Zaha's fertile mind does not limit her to concrete and glass, she has brought her creative esthetic to shoes, jewelry and furniture.

The sky is the limit for Zaha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Ode to the Beauty of Trees

If Trees Could Talk

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, July 22, 2015

 

Trees; those noble beasts that live within our midst and provide us with shade in the summer. It is said that temperatures under trees are 10% lower. Silent, except for the rustling of their leaves, the swoosh of swaying branches and the occasional frightening crack of a breaking limb. Their lifespan exceeds any other living thing. Their fruit feeds millions, their foliage purifies our air, their stems build our shelters, their limbs heat our homes and transformed into charcoal, they heat millions of cooking stoves. They are God’s gift to mankind!

 

Trees are born from a seed, just like we. They survive through life and can live over a 1,000 years - but they also die. Some are tall giants – others branch out into huge canopies. The oldest living tree specimen is the Methuselah Tree, a wizened specimen that has been dated as being 4,767 years old. It is a short and stunted dwarf that is living out its life at over 8,000 feet altitude in a bristlecone pine forest in California’s White Mountains.

 

 

Closer to home, our island of Nantucket still has nearly 300 living elms of all ages, from recently-planted to centenarians. Some well over 100 years old. These elms are perhaps the only survivors of the deadly Dutch Elm decease that had ravaged all others on the mainland. These glorious trees arch over our Main Street, back alleys and hidden lanes with fountains of cascading leaves and dappled light.

After the great fire of 1846 that burned most of downtown Nantucket, a crop of American Elms was planted along almost every street and at every corner. These beautiful trees have bourn witness to Nantucket’s evolving history. They were there when Nantucket’s young men went off to fight the South in the deadly Civil War. Too few came back. They witnessed the booming whale oil industry when young men went off in sailing ships, some never to return. And then the two World Wars decimated more of our young men. The trees survived in silent witness.

Some are towering giants overhanging our busy streets, their roots pushing up sidewalks, often detouring pedestrian passage. But Nantucketers tolerate such minor inconveniences. These gracious giants are frequently brutalized by cars and trucks and disfigured with scars by electric and telephone companies to funnel their wires.

 

 

Two beautiful Elm trees standing majestically around the corner from my house

      



Our narrow streets and ever-wider SUVs have raised havoc by tearing off bark and leaving irreparable wounds, but these sturdy trees survive the punishment and heal with gapping scars. The scars, sometimes ten-feet off the ground, bear testament to the laps of time.

Trees have the right-of-way - pedestrians must detour - we really don't mind.

Tunnels and jagged cuts made by the electric and telephone companies - still they survive

 
Elms on neglected side streets or across from my house on Liberty Street (the flowering tree is not an elm but makes a perfect foreground when driving down the street)

 

To the credit of Nantucket’s Department of Public Works, they have two full-time “tree doctors” to protect and care for these heroic survivors. They sometimes performing necessary surgery and under dire potential hazards, euthanizing them to protect other trees and the public. It is a sad moment when we loose one; the town mourns.

      
The demise of a beautiful elm on Broad Street

Two top photos courtesy of the Inquire & Mirror - Ray Sylvia photographer

Not all beautiful trees are elms. I found this bush tree in a park and the bottom photo is the wild cherry tree in my back yard

Next April 29^th, Arbor Day, lets all celebrate with a big Elm  hug!

  

American Elm, Ulmus americana

Height: 80-100’ (up to 125’)

Diameter: 2-5’ (up to 10’) Leaves: 3-6” long and 1-3” wide

 

Design Week in New York - Part 2

Design Week in New York

 Part 2

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, June 7, 2015

  

 

 

Three years ago Steven Lerner, an enterprising young architect, found a cavernous empty space in the abandoned U.S. Post Office Sorting Facility on West 30th Street. Steven came up with the idea of replicating the off-premises shows that were such a huge success at Salone Del Mobile in Milan. He solicited a handful of small galleries in the USA and European to exhibit their artisans in a start-up show he called Collective Design. Today Collective Design is the premium exhibit of Design Week. The show relocated to 550 Washington Street in Tribeca and can brag of an impressive lineup of exhibitors that go beyond the usual suspects, which is why the exhibition is so exciting. I will take you on a belated tour of this exhibit.

 

I am a car buff - classic cars! This 1953 Cadillac LeMans Concept Convertible was my "take-home" favorite. Cadillac was one of the sponsors of the show and as a VIP guest I was picked-up and delivered home in a very comfortable Cadillac Limo.

 

After my love affair with the convertible "Caddi" - I found my friend, Dana Barnes, with an installation of her concrete seating blocks embedded with her signature knotted and felted wool blobs reminiscent of tropical islands in a sea.

    

Some of the most creative design ideas were tucked away in a separate wing dedicated to new talent. Amongst these I found a basket maker, who loved sewing machines and created these amazing works sewing together tightly wound cords.

 

Another craftsman built this elegant cabinet with doors covered in industrial rubber thereby forming a soft bubble for the finger-grips.

 

I loved this geometric bronze coffee table with a cubist motif marble insert

 

 

 

 

 

Joseph  Walsh, the master of extruded ribbons of wood, created this dining table  in the Todd Merrill exhibit.

and bellow  a young Japanese artist, Laura Kishimoto is one of Walsh's disciples.

 

 

 

Who knows better than Mom what kids need. -- She created a store just for kids furniture and founded kinder MODERN, a Soho mecca for fun kids furnishings

 

.

 

 

 

My friend Madeline Weinrib keeps getting better and better with her exciting rugs and textiles

 

And finally, the reason I spent such a productive day at Collective Design was at the invitation of Michael Boodro the Editor of Elle Décor, to join him in an open-ended conversation about design.

 

Michael Boodro and me with the first copy of my new book!

 

 

 

Steven Lerner, the  founder of Collective Design, welcoming Michael and me for our tete-a-tete.

Fortunately, I had brought a copy of my book with me for the interview with Michael Boodro. It was immediately snapped up and launched my 2015 autographing career.

 

Below are just a few of the curve balls Michael threw at me:

 

Elle Decor: The connection between modernism and decorative arts.  Why do you think so many modernists were antagonistic toward decoration, which you embraced? Your history of working with jewelers, artists, and of course your wife, Erica Wilson.

VK: I was brought up among art and artists. Incorporating decorative art into my designs was a mission. From my earliest days I commissioned artists and craftsmen to create tiles, table bases, buffet surfaces and hardware to incorporate into my designs. Naturally, working with my wife, Erica for 54 years had kept me focused on the marriage of the arts and design.

 Elle Décor: Your family history of woodworking, crafting and design. Your father and grandfather, etc. Having a shop. How do you think being a retailer, interacting with the public, influenced your designs?

 VK: My father, Ilii Kagan was a stanch modernist, selling Deutchewerkstätte and Vienerwerkschtätte, the two most avant-garde collaboratives, in his shops in Worms and Heidelberg. He collected German impressionist art ranging from George Grosz, Käthe Kollwitz and Ernst Barlach to Kokoschka.  Some of these are hanging in my apartment today. My grandfather, Julius Wallach, on the other hand was a dyed-in-the-wool traditionalist: he collected folk art, peasant furniture and textiles. His store, Volkskunsthaus Wallach, in Munch was world famous. Even Hitler had his block-printed fabrics in his Eagle’s Nest. Julius was the diametric opposite of my father: they did not get along. I loved both their art, which found roots in my earliest designs. The flared legs of the peasant chairs and stools became a part of my early chair vocabulary while my Father’s adherence to the Bauhaus philosophy of ”Less is More” has motivated me all of my life.

Elle Décor: Many of your designs—even pieces from the 40s—seem so modern as to be futuristic, but you have always looked to natural and organic forms. How do you make organic inspirations seem so contemporary?

V.K. Nature is a great streamliner. Nature is a great engineer. Organic shapes are ergonomic. Learning from Nature inspired me to simplify and reduce excess elements in my designs. Though no one would ever call me a Bauhaus modernist, this is where my inspirations originated.

Elle Décor: The scale of works of contemporary art inspired one of your most famous pieces, the Serpentine Sofa—the era of the big Abstract Expressionist paintings—which inspired pieces floating a room. Andre Emmerich was a client, etc.  You’ve dealt with the rise of open plan layouts, home offices and modular small pieces.

V.K. I had to take furniture away from the wall and open them for wall-to-wall art. To allow for generous seating and appreciation of the art works, I created my Serpentine Sofas that could seat eight to ten people in an animated way – not like birds perched on a power line. Building these huge sofas eliminated excess chairs and fulfilled by Bauhaus philosophy of “Less is More”. I called this “Interior Landscaping”.

Elle Décor: You have seen so many styles/trends come and go—you have ridden the wave, a few, such as Post-modernism, you embraced yourself.  You have been in and out of fashion. Embraced by Tom Ford and Bill Sofield at Gucci in the nineties. Did that surprise you? It seems you are more ubiquitous in high design than you ever were. How does that feel?

 V.K. Well, with a long career in design, like a marathon Runner, you can “hit the wall”. You’ve reached the end of your stretch, when along came the  Memphis movement! It was a crazy, non-functional media event that was like a shot in the arm for design. We all of a sudden could look at classic designs and rejoice in their decorative appendages. Add a touch of wild colors and you step over the threshold of traditional modernism and find a new world of design opportunities. I didn’t stay in that idiom for long, but it liberated me from the doldrums and helped me to move on. - How did it feel that Tom Ford and Bill Sofield latched on to my designs? A great boost and confirmation of my work over the years!

Elle Décor: What new technologies do you think are influencing furniture design today? What do you feel about the resurgence of interest in design and making furniture among the young generation?

 V.K. Furniture making is a traditional art. Yeah, plastics, high tech machinery, injection molding will make furniture cheaper and more accessible. But what I really like are the young people at this show experimenting with new ideas and carrying on in the time-honored tradition of furniture making.

Elle Décor: How do you feel about your early work being considered collectible, even as you create new pieces?

V.K. Cool!

 

When a person in the audience asked what was my favorite design - a difficult question to answer as they are all my favorite designs, I answered, my rocking chair, NOT knowing that there actually was one on display in the show!

 

 

Design Week ushered in the introduction of my new book “VLADIMIR KAGAN a Lifetime of Avant-Garde Design” 

 

The first official book-signing was at the Ralph Pucci gallery at 44 West 18^th Street. I signed 150 copies! The opening was followed by two more events in Dallas and Houston at the David Sutherland showrooms. Dallas was where I had opened my first representative showroom some forty years ago. It’s a changed city, wild imaginative architecture that puts the East coast to shame. But no one wears cowboy boots or 12-gallon Stetson hats, which are still only worn in Fort Worth and points west. It was great fun seeing old and new friends and eating the best Tex-Mex food… alone worth the trip.

 

The first book signing event at Ralph Pucci in New York

 

Ralph Pucci, like a proud father, introducing me and my book to the guests

 

My two favorite red-heads: Renee Landegger and Amy Lau

 
A family affair - The Keiser clan, who's loft is featured in the book and my great friends, the Bordes family with friend Ellen Lake-Ewald

 
My lovely client, Clarissa Bronfman and my friend architect Edda Elias

Both Clarissa's and Edda's sofas are featured in the book.

My terrific book designer, Stafford Cliff flew in from London for the event

And finally, my two lovely daughters, Vanessa and Jessica hugging Dad

 

Book signing in Dallas

My hosts, David and Anne Sutherland who hosted my events in Dallas and Houston

     

Hugging Vladi was the big event in Dallas - I loved every minute!

Onward to Houston

         
Hugging and lap-dancing is definitely "IN" in Houston

There's nothing like an after party, party - here were some of the Houston guests listening to my word's of wisdom after the book signing.

 

I am sure, comes fall, my darling publisher, Susan Slesin will have me criss-crossing the country hustling more books and I collecting more hugs!

 

 

 

 

 

 

An Easter Message

Spring is Sprung

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, April 5, 2015

 

It is Easter weekend and it looks as though spring has finally sprung.

 

I am a snow worshipper… but if I say this to my family, who have endured the severest winter in many years, I had better duck…. shoes, pots, snowballs and glowers will fly at me.

 

 I am visiting my daughter Jessica in Connecticut and she had promised me snow was still on the ground… and sure enough, when I arrived on Thursday night, clusters of snow were still obstructing the driveway.

   

There is something special about the lingering winter with its barren trees. Light penetrates unobstructed through the forest.  A spring wind makes their tender stems dance like a synchronized ballet. And in spite of the severe winter winds and snows, there are still some trees with leaves clinging to their branches. Why?

 

Friday was a cheerless day with intermittent downpours; the pond was still covered with a layer of ice and rimmed with snow. A winter chill was in the air. Cold was everywhere, inside and outside of the house. There were rude noises about the fu-----ing snow. I bundled up in a blanket. In spite of the glum weather, I went to work trying to concentrate on a design project.  Nothing creative flowed onto the paper.

 

But, oh what a difference a day makes! Saturday I woke to a brilliant orange sun trying to penetrate through the shades of my bedroom, a promise of a break in the weather. By the time I got up, the ice on the pond had started to melt and at the end of the day, it was gone. A walk through the garden revealed clumps of snowbells, crocuses and daffodils pushing through the melting snow. Spring was definitely on its way. Finally, sitting on the deck after dinner, nothing says spring more than the ear-splitting cacophony of lovesick tree frogs in search of a mate!

    

In a few days, even before a single leaf appears, the forest will take on a pale, fuzzy, green hue. It is the start of nature’s metamorphoses from its winter sleep into a brilliant new awakening. It may last only a few days before all hell will break loose. The trees and the earth will explode with all their might. Trees will burst with new leaves; the earth will part for ferns and flowers to emerge. The energy is almost palatable. Buds will burst open; pussy willows will morph into delicate flowers, forsythia bushes will paint a bright yellow everywhere, magnolia trees will bloom even before they send forth a single leaf. Spring at last!

 

What a joy to be a witness to this marvel.

  

P.S. Alas, while we had no Easter egg hunt in Connecticut, Jessica provided a plethora of candies that needed no hunting.

 

 

 

Home at Last

 

 

Remembrances Of Switzerland

Bits and Pieces

 

Copyright Vladimir Kagan, March 23, 2015

 

Mission accomplished…. . Having dealt with two major losses within one year, my sister desperately needed a change of pace. It took me two months to convinced her to come with me to sunny Palm Beach.

 

LOOKING BACK

Two months in Geneva was too long – two months was not enough. No matter how you slice it- you want more – you’ve had enough.

 

It took time to slow my engine down. Coming from hyper paced New York City to placid Geneva I learned to move at a snail’s pace. You open your eyes to see things you’ve missed.

 

NATURE

Take the Plain Trees. Plain trees are particularly suited for city planting, as they don’t shed bark! Instead they peel as they grow, shedding paper-thin bits of their outer skin, giving the stems a freckled look. They are ubiquitous in every city. In New York, they are primarily pissoires for dogs. In Geneva they take on certain majesty. For one thing, they are pollarded*. This process gives the trees abundant energy to rejuvenate during the winter and burst forth with clusters of branches and leaves that form a dense umbrella for shade. As their growth is stunted vertically, they develop impressive trunks, some as much as three feet in diameter. The pruned stubs of the branches are knurly and picturesque (or gross, however you look at them).

 *Pollarding is a pruning system in which the upper branches of a tree are removed, promoting a dense head of foliage and branches. It has been common in Europe since medieval times.

 

Pollarded plain Trees on Geneva's streets


 Roses in the famous flower clock on Lake Geneva

In Geneva one could take the time out to smell the roses.  They grew prolifically along the paths of the Lake. No more! Eco minded Genovese, have found that the fertilizer required to keep them in bloom was polluting their lake. (American communities take note!)

 

PEOPLE WATCHING

Girls: I am an expert in observing beautiful ladies. While the rest of the world worships blonds, Geneva is the Mecca for lovely brunettes.

If Genovese ladies take to the bottle (hair dyes, that is) they seem to prefer auburn tints to blond.

 

ARCHITECTURE

Swiss industrial buildings are a joy to behold. Drive along the well groomed Swiss Throughways and you’ll see gems of contemporary designs; not just box architecture dressed with surface graphics, but factories thoroughly innovative from the ground up.

 

A modern factory outside of Bulle in the Swiss Alps

 

(While in my last Blog I lamented new developments as the desecrators of the countryside. Here are some buildings that I admire.)

You might not think of the Swiss as particularly colorful, but I have found beautiful use of color in their modern architecture.

In downtown Geneva, I discovered an exciting new bridge that crosses the Arle. A feast for the eyes.
 

The Bulle bypass

The Swiss have always been master tunnel and bridge builders. Driving into the mountains, the small towns along the way have built impressive bypass roads and tunnels that move congesting traffic out of their picturesque main streets. Their costs are extravagant, but the Swiss are long-range planners

 

ROOFS AND CHIMNEYS

On my daily walks, I noticed things often overlooked while driving. I became enthralled with Geneva’s turn of the century buildings; their gabled roofs and the amusing chimneys that grew out of them.

     

 

Geneva has managed to bury its unsightly telephone wires. The wiring is neatly packaged in decorated junction boxes.

 

TRANSPORTATION

Geneva can boast the most Eco friendly public transportation system. All their buses and trams are clean air electric. The bi-product: a spider’s web of electric wiring overhead… but their trams and buses are streamlined and modern. All silently gliding through the city.

 

MOUNTAINS

I could not leave Switzerland without my ‘Ode to the Mountains.’ This is where I find peace and happiness. It is where Erica and I “sat out” 9/11 when all flights were canceled to the USA; It’s where we skied, summered, brought up kids, and recharged our batteries. It is the home of fondues and aged mountain cheese. In the springtime, the air is perfumed with freshly spread manure (an aroma that is an acquired taste) and in summer, there is nothing like the smell of fresh-cut hay.

 

 

A photo out of the picture window above and my sketch below

 

 

This is the end of my Swiss sermon (But I already have my return ticket.)

 

And now back in the US of A… It has been a hoot entertaining my sister in the Florida sunshine. She has just returned home to her beloved dogs, refreshed and well rested.

 

Clowning around with the family in the Key Lime Restaurant in Lantana, near Palm Beach

Left to right: Matt, Isabelle visiting from England, Vladi, Tanya,  Gigi in front, in back: Capt. Hook, Vanessa and Olivia