Thứ Năm, 28 tháng 2, 2013
Hat Parade
The Advanced Style Ladies are known for wearing bold accessories and wonderful hats. I think the pictures above are proof enough that hats are having their day in the sun. Which are your favorites?
Starfish City
[Image: A Starfish site, like a pyromaniac's version of Archigram, via the St. Margaret's Community Website; view larger].
A few other things that will probably come up this evening at the Architectural Association, in the context of the British Exploratory Land Archive project, are the so-called "Starfish sites" of World War II Britain. Starfish sites "were large-scale night-time decoys created during The Blitz to simulate burning British cities."
[Image: A Starfish site burning, via the St. Margaret's Community Website; view larger].
Their nickname, "Starfish," comes from the initials they were given by their designer, Colonel John Turner, for "Special Fire" sites or "SF."
As English Heritage explains, in their list of "airfield bombing decoys," these misleading proto-cities were "operated by lighting a series of controlled fires during an air raid to replicate an urban area targeted by bombs." They would thus be set ablaze to lead German pilots further astray, as the bombers would, at least in theory, fly several miles off-course to obliterate nothing but empty fields camouflaged as urban cores.
They were like optical distant cousins of the camouflaged factories of Southern California during World War II.
Being in a hotel without my books, and thus relying entirely on the infallible historical resource of Wikipedia for the following quotation, the Starfish sites "consisted of elaborate light arrays and fires, controlled from a nearby bunker, laid out to simulate a fire-bombed town. By the end of the war there were 237 decoys protecting 81 towns and cities around the country."
[Image: Zooming-in on the Starfish site, seen above; image via the St. Margaret's Community Website].
The specific system of visual camouflage used at the sites consisted of various special effects, including "fire baskets," "glow boxes," reflecting pools, and long trenches that could be set alight in a controlled sequence so as to replicate the streets and buildings of particular towns—1:1 urban models built almost entirely with light.
In fact, in some cases, these dissimulating light shows for visiting Germans were subtractively augmented, we might say, with entire lakes being "drained during the war to prevent them being used as navigational aids by enemy aircraft."
Operational "instructions" for turning on—that is, setting ablaze—"Minor Starfish sites" can be read, courtesy of the Arborfield Local History Society, where we also learn how such sites were meant to be decommissioned after the war. Disconcertingly, despite the presence of literally tons of "explosive boiling oil" and other highly flammable liquid fuel, often simply lying about in open trenches, we read that "sites should be de-requisitioned and cleared of obstructions quickly in order to hand the land back to agriculture etc., as soon as possible."
The remarkable photos posted here—depicting a kind of pyromaniac's version of Archigram, a temporary circus of flame bolted together from scaffolding—come from the St. Margaret's Community Website, where a bit more information is available.
In any case, if you're around London this evening, Starfish sites, aerial archaeology, and many other noteworthy features of the British landscape will be mentioned—albeit in passing—during our lecture at the Architectural Association. Stop by if you're in the neighborhood...
(Thanks to Laura Allen for first pointing me to Starfish sites).
A few other things that will probably come up this evening at the Architectural Association, in the context of the British Exploratory Land Archive project, are the so-called "Starfish sites" of World War II Britain. Starfish sites "were large-scale night-time decoys created during The Blitz to simulate burning British cities."
[Image: A Starfish site burning, via the St. Margaret's Community Website; view larger].
Their nickname, "Starfish," comes from the initials they were given by their designer, Colonel John Turner, for "Special Fire" sites or "SF."
As English Heritage explains, in their list of "airfield bombing decoys," these misleading proto-cities were "operated by lighting a series of controlled fires during an air raid to replicate an urban area targeted by bombs." They would thus be set ablaze to lead German pilots further astray, as the bombers would, at least in theory, fly several miles off-course to obliterate nothing but empty fields camouflaged as urban cores.
They were like optical distant cousins of the camouflaged factories of Southern California during World War II.
Being in a hotel without my books, and thus relying entirely on the infallible historical resource of Wikipedia for the following quotation, the Starfish sites "consisted of elaborate light arrays and fires, controlled from a nearby bunker, laid out to simulate a fire-bombed town. By the end of the war there were 237 decoys protecting 81 towns and cities around the country."
[Image: Zooming-in on the Starfish site, seen above; image via the St. Margaret's Community Website].
The specific system of visual camouflage used at the sites consisted of various special effects, including "fire baskets," "glow boxes," reflecting pools, and long trenches that could be set alight in a controlled sequence so as to replicate the streets and buildings of particular towns—1:1 urban models built almost entirely with light.
In fact, in some cases, these dissimulating light shows for visiting Germans were subtractively augmented, we might say, with entire lakes being "drained during the war to prevent them being used as navigational aids by enemy aircraft."
Operational "instructions" for turning on—that is, setting ablaze—"Minor Starfish sites" can be read, courtesy of the Arborfield Local History Society, where we also learn how such sites were meant to be decommissioned after the war. Disconcertingly, despite the presence of literally tons of "explosive boiling oil" and other highly flammable liquid fuel, often simply lying about in open trenches, we read that "sites should be de-requisitioned and cleared of obstructions quickly in order to hand the land back to agriculture etc., as soon as possible."
The remarkable photos posted here—depicting a kind of pyromaniac's version of Archigram, a temporary circus of flame bolted together from scaffolding—come from the St. Margaret's Community Website, where a bit more information is available.
In any case, if you're around London this evening, Starfish sites, aerial archaeology, and many other noteworthy features of the British landscape will be mentioned—albeit in passing—during our lecture at the Architectural Association. Stop by if you're in the neighborhood...
(Thanks to Laura Allen for first pointing me to Starfish sites).
Ice Age Aerial
[Image: Photo: The "cemetery and church at Teampull Eion, Isle of Lewis," courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
One of many things I was excited to discover while working on the British Exploratory Land Archive project, and while getting ready for tonight's lecture at the Architectural Association, is the "Scotland's Landscapes" collection of aerial archaeology photographs from the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland.
[Image: (top) The "remains of White Castle Fort"; (bottom) the "remains of the Northshield Rings." Photos courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
"As the glaciers of the last Ice Age receded," we read, "Scotland's earliest ancestors ventured northwards, exploring a wild, fertile territory. Nomadic hunter-gatherers at first, they made the decision to stay for good—to farm and to build. From that moment on, people began to write their story firmly into the fabric of the landscape." Indeed, today, "every inch of Scotland—whether remote hilltop, fertile floodplain, or storm-lashed coastline—has been shaped, changed and moulded by its people."
[Image: Photo: The (modernday) "Fife Earth Project at St. Ninian's Open Cast Site," courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
Quoting at length:
[Image: Photo: The "remains of the lazy beds and enclosures at Muidhe on the Isle of Skye," courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
In any case, here are some of the photos—just a random selection of eye-candy for a Thursday afternoon.
[Images: Aerial view of Lochindorb Castle, courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
Meanwhile, these and many other photos are available in a new book by James Crawford, called Scotland's Landscapes: The National Collection of Aerial Photography, and you can see more online here.
One of many things I was excited to discover while working on the British Exploratory Land Archive project, and while getting ready for tonight's lecture at the Architectural Association, is the "Scotland's Landscapes" collection of aerial archaeology photographs from the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland.
[Image: (top) The "remains of White Castle Fort"; (bottom) the "remains of the Northshield Rings." Photos courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
"As the glaciers of the last Ice Age receded," we read, "Scotland's earliest ancestors ventured northwards, exploring a wild, fertile territory. Nomadic hunter-gatherers at first, they made the decision to stay for good—to farm and to build. From that moment on, people began to write their story firmly into the fabric of the landscape." Indeed, today, "every inch of Scotland—whether remote hilltop, fertile floodplain, or storm-lashed coastline—has been shaped, changed and moulded by its people."
[Image: Photo: The (modernday) "Fife Earth Project at St. Ninian's Open Cast Site," courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
Quoting at length:
The landscapes they lived on were remarkable in their diversity. Vast forests of pine and birch ran through one of the world’s oldest mountain ranges—once as high as the Himalayas but over millennia scoured and compressed by sheets of ice a mile thick. On hundreds of islands around a saw-edged coastline, communities flourished, linked to each other and the wider world by the sea, the transport superhighway of ancient times.Many of the resulting settlements have the appearance of inland islands, isolated shapes and ringed perimeters still visible from the air.
[Image: Photo: The "remains of the lazy beds and enclosures at Muidhe on the Isle of Skye," courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
In any case, here are some of the photos—just a random selection of eye-candy for a Thursday afternoon.
[Images: Aerial view of Lochindorb Castle, courtesy of the Royal Commission on the Ancient and Historical Monuments of Scotland].
Meanwhile, these and many other photos are available in a new book by James Crawford, called Scotland's Landscapes: The National Collection of Aerial Photography, and you can see more online here.
Thứ Tư, 27 tháng 2, 2013
Thứ Ba, 26 tháng 2, 2013
Tziporah Salamon Signed By Models 1
I am excited to report that our dear friend Tziporah Salamon just signed with Europe's leading modeling agency, Models 1. Tziporah happened to be in London during my panel discussion at The Royal Academy of Arts where she delivered the wonderful news. This has been a dream of Tziporah's for many years, and I can't wait to see what lies ahead for her. Check out Tziporah's portfolio on the Models 1 website HERE.
Thứ Hai, 25 tháng 2, 2013
Portraying Life at The Royal Academy of Arts
Daphne Selfe in a suit from Old Ladies Rebellion |
Floating Cities and Site Surveys
[Image: Photo by Mark Smout of a photo by Mark Smout, for the British Exploratory Land Archive].
I'm delighted to say that work originally produced for the British Pavilion at last summer's Venice Biennale will go on display this week at the Royal Institute of British Architects in London, beginning tomorrow, 26 February.
This will include, among many other projects, from studies of so-called "new socialist villages" in China to floating buildings in Amsterdam, to name but a few, the British Exploratory Land Archive (BELA) for which BLDGBLOG collaborated with architects Smout Allen in proposing a British version of the Center for Land Use Interpretation in Los Angeles. BELA would thus survey, catalog, explore, tour, document, and archive in one location the huge variety of sites in Britain altered by and used by human beings, from industrial sites to deserted medieval villages, slag heaps to submarine bases, smuggler's hideouts to traffic-simulation grounds. A few of these sites have already been documented in massive photographs now mounted at the RIBA, also featuring architectural instruments designed specifically for the BELA project and assembled over the summer in Hackney.
[Image: From the British Exploratory Land Archive].
However, if you're curious to know more and you happen to be in London on Thursday, 28 February, consider stopping by the Architectural Association to hear Smout Allen and I speak in more detail about the project. That talk is free and open the public, and it kicks off at 6pm; I believe architect Liam Young will be introducing things. Meanwhile, the aforementioned study of floating architecture in Amsterdam will be presented by its collaborative team—dRMM—at the RIBA on Tuesday night, 26 February, so make your calendars for that, as well (and check out the full calendar of related talks here).
The RIBA is at 66 Portland Place and the AA is in Bedford Square.
I'm delighted to say that work originally produced for the British Pavilion at last summer's Venice Biennale will go on display this week at the Royal Institute of British Architects in London, beginning tomorrow, 26 February.
This will include, among many other projects, from studies of so-called "new socialist villages" in China to floating buildings in Amsterdam, to name but a few, the British Exploratory Land Archive (BELA) for which BLDGBLOG collaborated with architects Smout Allen in proposing a British version of the Center for Land Use Interpretation in Los Angeles. BELA would thus survey, catalog, explore, tour, document, and archive in one location the huge variety of sites in Britain altered by and used by human beings, from industrial sites to deserted medieval villages, slag heaps to submarine bases, smuggler's hideouts to traffic-simulation grounds. A few of these sites have already been documented in massive photographs now mounted at the RIBA, also featuring architectural instruments designed specifically for the BELA project and assembled over the summer in Hackney.
[Image: From the British Exploratory Land Archive].
However, if you're curious to know more and you happen to be in London on Thursday, 28 February, consider stopping by the Architectural Association to hear Smout Allen and I speak in more detail about the project. That talk is free and open the public, and it kicks off at 6pm; I believe architect Liam Young will be introducing things. Meanwhile, the aforementioned study of floating architecture in Amsterdam will be presented by its collaborative team—dRMM—at the RIBA on Tuesday night, 26 February, so make your calendars for that, as well (and check out the full calendar of related talks here).
The RIBA is at 66 Portland Place and the AA is in Bedford Square.
Thứ Sáu, 22 tháng 2, 2013
Welcome to Sue Kreitzman's Wild and Wonderfully Colorful World(VIDEO)
As promised here is a small video tour and some photos of Sue Kreitzman's amazing home in London. For more on Sue and her incredible art work CLICK HERE. Please excuse the quality of the video, when I am on the go, I only have my little Flip camera with me.
Thứ Năm, 21 tháng 2, 2013
An Artful Life
Sue Kreitzman in a coat by Lauren Shanley |
Thứ Tư, 20 tháng 2, 2013
Countess Marianne Bernadotte of Wisborg
Countess Marianne Bernadotte of Wisborg in an original coat by Pierre Balmain |
While in Stockholm, I had the honor of meeting and presenting Countess Marianne Bernadotte of Wisborg with an award, celebrating a lifetime of style, from M-Magasin. After the award ceremony Countess Marianne asked if Joyce and I would like to join her for a coffee at her home in Stockholm. Joyce and I were thrilled to receive this wonderful invitation and we joined Countess Marianne at her home the next day.
The Countess told me that she has loved fashion ever since she was a child. She explained that style is something that she feels one is born with and that, " A thing of beauty is a joy forever."(Keats) Now 88 years-old, she has acquired an incredible collection of couture items from friends like Pierre Balmain. Countess Marianne is in the process of lending some pieces from her collection, spanning over 50 years of couture, to a local museum, to be exhibited later this year. Joyce and will always remember our time in Stockholm and we can't wait to return to catch Countess Marianne's upcoming show.
Thứ Ba, 19 tháng 2, 2013
How To Live To 100
I met Lena and Sybil during my visit to Forest Trace, and was instantly struck by their incredible energy. I was amazed to learn that they are both in their 100s and was curious to know what the secret to their vitality was. Lena told me that in order to make it to 100 you have to be strong. She said" You have to be in love with life. Some people think that life may be coming to an end, but for me I am having so much fun. This is just the beginning." Sybil concurred and added, "Yes you have to have fun and never stop having fun."
Thứ Hai, 18 tháng 2, 2013
Ingmari Lamy
I am finally in Seattle to celebrate a friend's wedding, after a few weeks of whirlwind travel. It's hard to explain how incredibly insightful and moving each of my trips has been. I am constantly meeting so many inspiring people, hearing their life stories, and it's difficult to process everything that is happening at the moment. On Tuesday I am off to London for a few days, and then back to New York for a few weeks, where I hope to write more in depth about these incredible experiences.
I met Ingmari Lamy in Stockholm and asked her to share a few words about her experience as model working in her 60s below.
I met Ingmari Lamy in Stockholm and asked her to share a few words about her experience as model working in her 60s below.
When I came into modeling at the age of 19 and shortly after that did my first cover for Harpers Bazaar, I was a young woman loving nature and the world of fashion was art to me. Using make-up was great during the photo-shoot itself, the playfulness and the transforming possibilities. I loved it! Even so, I always took my make up off after work and was " a natural". That`s the way it was for me. Being in the world of fashion today, still modeling at the age of 65, I have kept these habits of staying natural. For my skin I use organic olive oil, that`s the way I like it. I want to inspire women, young and old, to know their true inner beauty and strength. I want them to know that their beauty is always there every moment. Always present. And then we can play with make-up and clothes! I love the way your women are colorful and expressing a true personality. Maybe when I get older I will be wearing make-up as well.
Thứ Bảy, 16 tháng 2, 2013
The Fifth Wall
[Image: Green screen; image via Geek Magazine].
Earlier this week, Petro Vlahos, described by the BBC as "the pioneer of blue- and green-screen systems" in cinema, passed away. Vlahos's highly specific recoloring of certain surfaces in the everyday built environment allowed "filmmakers to superimpose actors and other objects against separately filmed backgrounds"; they are walls that aren't really there:
These sorts of walls and surfaces are not architecture, we might say, but pure spatial effects, a kind of representational sleight of hand through which the boundaries and contents of a location can be infinitely expanded. There is no "building," then, to put this in Matrix-speak; there are only spatial implications. Green screen architecture, here, would simply be a visual space-holder through which to substitute other environments entirely: a kind of permanent, physically real special effect that, in the end, is just a coat of paint.
It's interesting, in this interpretation, that "green screens" or a rough optical equivalent are not more commonly utilized in architectural or interior design—even if only as an ironic gesture toward the possibility that, say, a group of friends taking photographs in your living room, with its weird green wall on one side, or in the lobby of that hotel, with its green screen backdrop, might somehow be able to insert into the resulting photographs otherwise non-present spatial realities, as if they had been photographed in front of a Stargate or a Holodeck, a window creaking open between worlds.
In fact, this was exactly the strange feeling I had when living just two buildings away from a green screen lot in Los Angeles, as if the painted green surface there, looming over the empty lot on our street corner, was standing sentinel, patiently awaiting new worlds to appear, all the while being nothing more than a wall of green plywood.
Earlier this week, Petro Vlahos, described by the BBC as "the pioneer of blue- and green-screen systems" in cinema, passed away. Vlahos's highly specific recoloring of certain surfaces in the everyday built environment allowed "filmmakers to superimpose actors and other objects against separately filmed backgrounds"; they are walls that aren't really there:
He called his invention the colour-difference travelling matte scheme. Like pre-existing blue-screen techniques it involves filming a scene against an aquamarine blue-coloured background. This is used to generate a matte—which is transparent wherever the blue-colour features on the original film, and opaque elsewhere. This can then be used to superimpose a separately filmed scene or visual effects to create a composite.Special effects, animated actors, entire sets and spaces that weren't physically present during filming: these aquamarine-colored surfaces are almost conjuring windows through which other environments can be optically inserted into filmed representations of the present moment.
These sorts of walls and surfaces are not architecture, we might say, but pure spatial effects, a kind of representational sleight of hand through which the boundaries and contents of a location can be infinitely expanded. There is no "building," then, to put this in Matrix-speak; there are only spatial implications. Green screen architecture, here, would simply be a visual space-holder through which to substitute other environments entirely: a kind of permanent, physically real special effect that, in the end, is just a coat of paint.
It's interesting, in this interpretation, that "green screens" or a rough optical equivalent are not more commonly utilized in architectural or interior design—even if only as an ironic gesture toward the possibility that, say, a group of friends taking photographs in your living room, with its weird green wall on one side, or in the lobby of that hotel, with its green screen backdrop, might somehow be able to insert into the resulting photographs otherwise non-present spatial realities, as if they had been photographed in front of a Stargate or a Holodeck, a window creaking open between worlds.
In fact, this was exactly the strange feeling I had when living just two buildings away from a green screen lot in Los Angeles, as if the painted green surface there, looming over the empty lot on our street corner, was standing sentinel, patiently awaiting new worlds to appear, all the while being nothing more than a wall of green plywood.
Thứ Sáu, 15 tháng 2, 2013
Optical Calibration Targets
[Image: "Three tri-bar targets remaining at Cuddeback Lake... the flat surfaces are peeling, crumbling and sprouting, producing dimensionality, and relief." Photo by and courtesy of the Center for Land Use Interpretation].
"There are dozens of aerial photo calibration targets across the USA," the Center for Land Use Interpretation reports, "curious land-based two-dimensional optical artifacts used for the development of aerial photography and aircraft. They were made mostly in the 1950s and 1960s, though some apparently later than that, and many are still in use, though their history is obscure."
These symbols—like I-Ching trigrams for machines—are used as "a platform to test, calibrate, and focus aerial cameras traveling at different speeds and altitudes," CLUI explains, similar to "an eye chart at the optometrist, where the smallest group of bars that can be resolved marks the limit of the resolution for the optical instrument that is being used."
[Image: A tri-bar array at Eglin Air Force Base, Florida; via CLUI].
Formally speaking, the targets could be compared to mis-painted concrete parking lots in the middle of the nowhere, using "sets of parallel and perpendicular bars duplicated at 15 or so different sizes." This "configuration is sometimes referred to as a 5:1 aspect Tri-bar Array, and follows a similar relative scale as a common resolution test chart known as the 1951 USAF Resolving Power Test Target, conforming to milspec MIL-STD-150A. This test pattern is still widely used to determine the resolving power of microscopes, telescopes, cameras, and scanners."
[Image: A "standard tri-bar test pattern on the Photo Resolution Range at Edwards that has been greatly expanded," CLUI writes; via CLUI].
CLUI points out that the history and location of the tri-bar patterns corresponds to the rise of high-altitude "flying cameras" developed during the Cold War—i.e. spy planes whose purpose was not to deliver ordnance to the far side of the world but simply to take detailed photographs.
[Image: An "especially exotic" expanded tri-bar array at Fort Huachuca, Arizona; via CLUI].
Further, "the largest concentration of calibration targets in one place is on the grounds of Edwards Air Force Base" in California, "in an area referred to as the photo resolution range, where 15 calibration targets run for 20 miles across the southeast side of the base in a line, so multiple targets can be photographed in one pass. There is some variation in the size and shape of the targets at Edwards, suggesting updates and modifications for specific programs. A number of the targets there also have aircraft hulks next to them, added to provide additional, realistic subjects for testing cameras."
A quick scan of Google Maps locates the photo resolution range relatively easily; broadly speaking, just go up to the right and down to the left from, say, this point and you'll find the targets.
[Image: Calibration targets from the photo resolution range, Edwards Air Force Base; from Google Maps].
Although I am truly fascinated by what sorts of optical landmarks might yet be developed for field-testing the optical capabilities of drones, as if the world might soon be peppered with opthalmic infrastructure for self-training autonomous machines, it is also quite intriguing to realize that these calibration targets are, in effect, ruins, obsolete sensory hold-overs from an earlier age of film-based cameras and less-powerful lenses. Calibrating nothing, they are now just curious emblems of a previous generation of surveillance technology, robot-readable hieroglyphs whose machines have all moved on.
(Via the Studio-X NYC Tumblr).
"There are dozens of aerial photo calibration targets across the USA," the Center for Land Use Interpretation reports, "curious land-based two-dimensional optical artifacts used for the development of aerial photography and aircraft. They were made mostly in the 1950s and 1960s, though some apparently later than that, and many are still in use, though their history is obscure."
These symbols—like I-Ching trigrams for machines—are used as "a platform to test, calibrate, and focus aerial cameras traveling at different speeds and altitudes," CLUI explains, similar to "an eye chart at the optometrist, where the smallest group of bars that can be resolved marks the limit of the resolution for the optical instrument that is being used."
[Image: A tri-bar array at Eglin Air Force Base, Florida; via CLUI].
Formally speaking, the targets could be compared to mis-painted concrete parking lots in the middle of the nowhere, using "sets of parallel and perpendicular bars duplicated at 15 or so different sizes." This "configuration is sometimes referred to as a 5:1 aspect Tri-bar Array, and follows a similar relative scale as a common resolution test chart known as the 1951 USAF Resolving Power Test Target, conforming to milspec MIL-STD-150A. This test pattern is still widely used to determine the resolving power of microscopes, telescopes, cameras, and scanners."
[Image: A "standard tri-bar test pattern on the Photo Resolution Range at Edwards that has been greatly expanded," CLUI writes; via CLUI].
CLUI points out that the history and location of the tri-bar patterns corresponds to the rise of high-altitude "flying cameras" developed during the Cold War—i.e. spy planes whose purpose was not to deliver ordnance to the far side of the world but simply to take detailed photographs.
[Image: An "especially exotic" expanded tri-bar array at Fort Huachuca, Arizona; via CLUI].
Further, "the largest concentration of calibration targets in one place is on the grounds of Edwards Air Force Base" in California, "in an area referred to as the photo resolution range, where 15 calibration targets run for 20 miles across the southeast side of the base in a line, so multiple targets can be photographed in one pass. There is some variation in the size and shape of the targets at Edwards, suggesting updates and modifications for specific programs. A number of the targets there also have aircraft hulks next to them, added to provide additional, realistic subjects for testing cameras."
A quick scan of Google Maps locates the photo resolution range relatively easily; broadly speaking, just go up to the right and down to the left from, say, this point and you'll find the targets.
[Image: Calibration targets from the photo resolution range, Edwards Air Force Base; from Google Maps].
Although I am truly fascinated by what sorts of optical landmarks might yet be developed for field-testing the optical capabilities of drones, as if the world might soon be peppered with opthalmic infrastructure for self-training autonomous machines, it is also quite intriguing to realize that these calibration targets are, in effect, ruins, obsolete sensory hold-overs from an earlier age of film-based cameras and less-powerful lenses. Calibrating nothing, they are now just curious emblems of a previous generation of surveillance technology, robot-readable hieroglyphs whose machines have all moved on.
(Via the Studio-X NYC Tumblr).
Thứ Năm, 14 tháng 2, 2013
Thứ Tư, 13 tháng 2, 2013
A Delightful Encounter
I met this gorgeous woman at my book signing at Forest Trace last week. She just moved to Florida from New York where she worked in the fashion industry for years. She told me that she made her headband especially for my event and apologized for her missing dentures. She had to have dental surgery and didn't want to let this stop her from coming to the event. I was incredibly moved by this wonderfully talented woman and couldn't wait to share her photo with you all.
Thứ Ba, 12 tháng 2, 2013
Gunilla Ponten
Ever since my last trip to Stockholm, it has been my dream to photograph 83-year-old design legend Gunilla Ponten. Today my dream came true when Gunilla met me at my hotel armed with bags full of her wonderful accessories. Gunilla has so much energy and was even cooler than I could have ever imagined. I can't wait to share the rest of the shots next week.
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