This post is popping back up for a number of reasons: 1) It was Mother’s Day in most of the world including New Zealand (where I was mothered) yesterday 2) It is the most popular post I have written, getting hits on almost a daily basis 3) I’ve been contacted by a museum archivist about my collection and have completed a ‘material culture’ analysis of my pottery – its appeal, its use, its history. That was a lot of fun. And 4) because I’m just so lucky to be the keeper of these pieces. Thanks, Mum.
My mother always referred to her favourite collection of pottery as ‘The Lucie Rie’. This was a recurring refrain in my childhood.
“Don’t touch The Lucie Rie.” (self explanatory)
“Be careful that’s too close to The Lucie Rie.” (about any dangerous/ugly article breathing The LR’s blessed air)
“I’ll use The Lucie Rie.” (special occasions only)
And “Get down you’ll break The Lucie Rie!”
I did. The shards of smashed coffee pot glinted at me, still half way up the dresser, from their resting place on the kitchen floor. That evening I was closer to getting a smack than at any other time in my childhood. But even worse that that was the sight of my father holding my mother as she cried in his arms and I turned tight circles on my tricycle in the front yard pretending I didn’t care.
My thoughts are well and truly provoked with the challenge this week. I’m from the Antipodes, live in London and travel as much as I am able. My options are various.
One image I’m drawn to and always photograph wherever I am is graffiti or urban art as it’s now called, rightly in many cases I think.
Similar/different across cultural boundaries? You be the judge.
where the wild things are (mrscarmichael)
Marion Street avatar (mrscarmichael)
up a blind alley (mrscarmichael)
3/4 modern, 1/4 trad (mrscarmichael)
access is always a good thing (mrscarmichael)
art meets Museum Hotel (mrscarmichael)
Wellington, the city dubbed ‘wild at heart’.
top and tail (mrscarmichael)
hello, Zurich (mrscarmichael)
3D graffiti (mrscarmichael)
worth another look (mrscarmichael)
Meanwhile 11,000 miles away in Zurich.
Spitalfields’ soldier (mrscarmichael)
mind the door (mrscarmichael)
the military in monochrome (mrscarmichael)
ladies of the apocalypse (mrscamichael)
green eyed monster (mrscarmichael)
London town, in and around Spitalfields and Brick Lane.
And I’m going to leave the last word to Christchurch as she tries to heal her wounds after the earthquakes.
positivity
Same or different, the urban art culture is flourishing. What will be there next time I pass by?
Until Ailsa Where’s my backpack? proposed light as this week’s theme I had utterly no idea how taken I am with the things, or more precisely, the shade that surrounds. It has therefore been all too easy to pull a cornucopia of lightness from my photographic vaults.
all that glitters (mrscarmichael)
seascape through a shade (mrscarmichael)
metal magic (mrscarmichael)
fantastical, delicious and mail-orderable (mrscarmichael)
good book anyone? (mrscarmichael)
Cuba Street chic (mrscarmichael)
thank goodness for Gaudí (mrscarmichael)
ufo? (mrscarmichael)
necessity is the mother of invention (mrscarmichael)
The Orbit, Olympic Village; WC, Barbican, City of London; white scooters, Soller, Mallorca; sailors’ napkins, HMY Britannia; University College Hospital, London, WC1; seating, athletic stadium, Olympic Village; clock, my home; gate, Puerto Pollenca, Mallorca. (all photos mrscarmichael)
It would be an understatement to say that I like a handbag. I always have done and because of my hoarding gene have quite a number of original models stashed in wardrobes, cupboards and indeed the attic.
Daughter No.1 applauds my thrifty nature while purloining many of my treasured carry-alls. She sees herself as avant-retro and cool. Her friends envy her luck in having access to so many vintage accessories and I, from time to time, think she’s a little greedy and wish I too could enjoy, for example, my Mulberry (MADE IN ENGLAND) that I bought when she was three. NB: Said handbag has reappeared recently but only because the handle needs a repair.
made in England (mrscarmichael)
Of course I do have other handbags. Or at least I think I do. Daughter No.1 popped in this weekend. It was lovely to see her but she was upstairs for quite some time, now I think about it.
And is she instilling magpie tendencies in my remaining offspring? She should tread carefully with this one or we’ll both be the loser. I must get Mr Carmichael to pull the attic steps down so I can do a full audit.
While the world’s economy goes to hell in a handcart handbag consumption has reached feverish heights boosted by 1) celebrity endorsement, 2) sensurround advertising and 3) some people having TOO MUCH MONEY.
third decade of life (mrscarmichael)
Which brings me to Louis Vuitton. The very first designer handbag I bought was a Louis Vuitton. In its second life with Daughter No.1 the traditional design belies its vintageness. In the heady Eighties I went on to own a LV suitcase, suit carrier and weekend bag. Actually why wouldn’t they still be here, somewhere?
“Ladder, Mr Carmichael, NOW!”
‘Nobody,’ Carley Simon croons, ‘does it better’ and I don’t think even James Bond would be a match for this mega-brand. Under Marc Jacobs’ creative directorship it has taken points one and two to celestial realms by tapping into the craven desires of three, people with way more money than sense.
Take a look at the current campaign. Dotty or what? Here come some quotations…….’Louis Vuitton has been spotified’ and the inspiration, ‘obsession and seriality’. Interesting use of the English language, Marc. But what does it mean?
It means THIS…….
Louis Vuitton campaign, Selfridges (mrscarmichael)
and THIS……..
dots dancing and prancing before my eyes (mrscarmichael)
And THIS too…….
I ‘heart’ Louis Vuitton(mrscarmichael)
New York, Tokyo, Singapore, London and Paris have been strafed by dots and it’s thanks to eighty-two year old artist, Yayoi Kusama who is, MJ reports, ‘dot obsessed’. No argument from me on that one, Marc.
Kusama’s worldwide exhibitions lay testament to her orb mania.
The Obliteration Room on display in Queensland, Australia earlier this year (designboom)
Her window displays at Selfridges, where I found myself yesterday camera in hand, are magnificent and she along side the handbags takes centre stage. Oh but Louis V’s name crops with regurgitated regularity, naturally.
konichiwa, Kusama (mrscarmichael)
Do I like the translation to product? Not so much.
(purseblog.com)
Will I buy a spotty shoe? No. A handbag or scarf from this range? I don’t think so. Am I the target market? I doubt it but will this splatter campaign be a success? My bet is it will.
This is not the first time Jacobs has looked east for inspiration. In the early 2000’s Takashi Murakami collaborated with Louis Vuitton and his new age Pop Art Rendition of the classic logo and parallel advertising campaign herded buyers to the stores in droves.
Takashi Murakami inspired store (post bubble culture)
Time Magazine aptly dubbed his work, ‘Hello-Kitty-on-ketamine’. Again, the shops looked like psychedelic caverns of fun and the video stories Murakami created to back up the fairytale were Alice in Wonderlandesque. Young girl falls down, not a rabbit hole but a giant and somewhat garish panda’s throat. Is she looking for love in the avatar of a fourteen year old Louis Vuitton, safety inside a massive (and I have to say traditional) LV chest or indeed just a handbag? Who knows but the mini movies are still viewed regularly on utube.
Apparently Japan accounts for more than a third of Vuitton’s international sales so this latest collaborative effort should be the perfect storm.
While I can assure you that none of my daughters will inherit a ‘spotified’ handbag from their mother ask me if have I enjoyed the marketing campaign and I will, without reservation, reply,
My mother always referred to her favourite collection of pottery as ‘The Lucie Rie’. This was a recurring refrain in my childhood.
Lucie Rie teapot (mrscarmichael)
“Don’t touch The Lucie Rie.” (self explanatory)
“Be careful that’s too close to The Lucie Rie.” (about any dangerous/ugly article breathing The LR’s blessed air)
“I’ll use The Lucie Rie.” (special occasions only)
And “Get down you’ll break The Lucie Rie!”
I did. The shards of smashed coffee pot glinted at me, still half way up the dresser, from their resting place on the kitchen floor. That evening I was closer to getting a smack than at any other time in my childhood. But even worse that that was the sight of my father holding my mother as she cried in his arms and I turned tight circles on my tricycle in the front yard pretending I didn’t care.
I was, as a child, not only fearful of the power of The Lucie Rie but also slightly embarrassed by it. Plain white and black studio pieces that resembled nothing in my friends’ homes. No, I did not respect or particularly like our Lucie Rie pottery.
Lucie Rie drinking beakers (mrscarmichael)
When my mother died and I was cleaning out her house I managed, in my state of agitation, sadness and heavy pregnancy to lose some things I now really wish I hadn’t. A Charles Eames chair and footstool (circa 1964), my university essays, a Mies van der Rohe coffee table (circa 1977), a number of original prints and paintings and two Bernard Leach casserole dishes. This is not a complete list but serves to illustrate not only how much design taste my parents had but also how much I did not appreciate that faction my parlous state.
But I did keep The Lucie Rie. Even then it wasn’t for me. I kept it because my mother had loved it so much and I am glad I did.
Lucie Rie was making stunning one off pieces until 1990, five years before her death at 93. She was Austrian but moved to London and worked from the same studio in Paddington for more that fifty years. She, like my mother, admired Bernard Leach and his notion of the ‘completeness’ of a pot. She died a Dame of the British Empire and her Albion Mews studio has now been reconstructed in the V and A museum in South Kensington. Go and see the brilliance.
There are also pieces of hers in the MOMA (NY) for those across the pond.
Lucie Rie bowl (mrscarmichael)
And then, of course, there are my mother’s pots, cups, saucers, drinking mugs and bowls. I love each one. Exquisitely yet simply made they need nothing but clear, clean space around them to look stunning and in every piece there shines out not only the amazingly creative potter so ahead of her time but also a little bit of my mother.
Lucie Rie coffee pot (mrscarmichael)
I hope you enjoy them and please, do post me a photo if you are lucky enough to have been bitten by ‘The Lucie Rie’ bug too.
being mrscarmichael 