Corner Pocket

The top-floor, corner window is what I look out of when I'm in my bathroom, mostly when I'm hanging laundry or spying. If there was a second floor balcony, this would be a thoroughly typical Haussmann style building. Maybe because it sits along Rue D'Avron, a significant eastern entry and exit of the city, they held off on the low-floor balcony. As ridiculous as it feels to write the following phrase, here are a couple quotes about the Haussmann style from Wikipedia,

"Neighbouring buildings had to have their floors at the same height, and the façades' main lines had to be the same. The use of quarry stone was mandatory along these avenues. Paris started to acquire the features of an immense palace."

Also from Wikipedia, these are the basic guidelines for the Haussmann facade, floor by floor,

"-ground floor and basement with thick, usually street-lateral, load-bearing walls;
-second, "noble" floor with one or two balconies;
-third and fourth floors in the same style but with less elaborate stonework around the windows;
-fifth floor with a single, continuous, undecorated balcony
-eaves angled at 45º."

There is a lot to criticize about the Haussmann renovations (disrupting the social order, bowing to the wealthy landowners, etc.), but he and Napoleon III (an elected emperor) managed to disinfect, beautify, and rebuild an entire capital city! I try to imagine the mindset with which one sets out on such a project, and it seems like a combination of insanity, megalomania, social responsibility, trepidation, and fearlessness (both of pissing people off, and of biting off more than you can chew).

(Photo by Molly Tuttle.)

Looking Through

Sneak peak.

Good Shape

This is a desk I made for Odile, my neighbor in Paris. She wanted something "efficace, fonctionnel, et jolie": efficient, functional, and pretty. It also had to accommodate the fact that she is left handed. Because she is the director of restoration at the Louvre, I put a lot of time and attention into sanding and varnishing the single piece of wood. It is 44mm plywood with Okoumé veneer on top, just one big shape to fit in the alcove between an old marble fireplace and the slanted wall of a top-floor apartment.

Our apartment building is a classic Haussmann from 1907 (the architect's name and the date of construction are engraved on the outside): not very old at all by European standards, but from a very crazy time in the city's history. Napolean III had the whole city of Paris renovated between 1852 and 1870, with construction continuing into the early 20th century. The Seine prefect, Georges-Eugene Haussmann presided over everything from architectural style, to urban planning, to shuffling the city's map to create large, efficient (then) boulevards. The palacial air of the city, the cafe culture at big intersections, and neighborhood feeling in each of the city's 20 arrondissments are largely due to the Haussmann renovations. It was fun to anchor one of my own pieces in a building with that kind of history.

7 coats of water-based polyurethane varnish, with much sanding in between coats. It's not my ideal finish, for eco minded reasons. Aside from that, it is resilient, pretty, and workable.

Odile is happy with her desk from all I can tell. In related news, she is Jacques Dutronc's cousin and visits him and Francoise often.

Don't Sweat the Technique

My bud Ronan helped me out for a while today on some drawers that will go in an armoire I'm making for Imelda and Francesca. He busted out a clamp-free method of laying up the drawers that is so ingeniously simple it made me feel like I overcomplicate everything I do to the point of chaotic pandaemonium. These are the breaks:


First, you need to precisely cut all your drawer sides and bottoms with mitred corners, and the bottom needs to be grooved in there. Then you get all your sticks organized on a flat table alongside some glue and packing tape.


Then you line up your sides, edge to edge. Make sure they are groove side down, not like in the photo.


Here is the rad part: you simply tape each edge together, tight.


Then you flip the whole strip over, notch side up, and ease a noodle of glue down the bottom of your little mitre valleys.


Roll all the sides up and tape the final joint...


Slide the drawer bottom into the groove to keep it all square...


And finally, stack up all your perfect, taped-up drawers and let the glue dry over night.

CLAMP-FREE!

Where I Get My Craft On

UFACTO is the name of the furniture studio where I work in Paris. Architectural models, prototypes, sculptural things I'm still trying to figure out, and furniture, of course, are all part of the daily work flow. Many designers, mostly French ones, have their things made here. The pieces are one-of-a-kind or small-edition only, usually no more than 12. Big, famous, celeb designers who have contracts with gigantic, fancy pants manufacturers like Vitra, Cassina, Kartell, and Ligne Roset, often have their gallery pieces and prototypes made at UFACTO. Even though much of the workshop's output has an industrial feel, it is truly an artisan establishment. There are usually no more than 10 people working in the shop at any given time. David Toppani, the owner, master craftsman, and fabrication genius, is a very nice and quietly great man. So nice, in fact, that he let's me use the studio and all of it's fantastic tools to work on my own projects.


Here, working on a coffee table designed by Mattias Bonetti, is the man himself, David Toppani. He is really into traditional Blues and Native American culture. His motto is "anything is possible", but in French. Anything, that is, except wearing non-denim clothes.


These mini-bars were for Ricard, obviously. Toppani prototypes a lot of bar glasses for them, as well as for Perrier and Courvassier. He carves the glasses out of plexiglass, from which the actual glass factory molds are made. The dude in this photo is Morgan, a talented airbrush painter. He is really into Radiohead.


This glacier-looking coffee table was designed by my friend Erwan. It's design was actually inspired by the rice paddies of Thailand, not glaciers. Erwan was the one who originally referred me to UFACTO, thus changing my life.


Erwan also designed this lamp, or, part-of-lamp. Karl Lagerfeld may or may not have purchased one of these for 40,000 euros.


I don't know who designed this mushroom stool, nor is it my favorite thing in the world (though it is very comfy for sittin' on). But I like the light in this photo; it says to me, " this is a pleasant work environment". And it is.

From The Pelican's Beak

I gave the Glass Cube recording studio's website a little refresher; text and links for now, more very soon. I particularly recommend checking it out for the graphics by John Minardi. Otherwise, for now, it's basically the "website" version of this site's sidebar.

Summerberry Jam

Summertime in Europe means lots of music festivals, album releases, pre-release listening parties, and friends from CA touring over here. Because I just moved here in June, I haven't yet wrangled a core crew of musicians to play with. That, coupled with being in the middle of the European musical frenzy of summer, means I've been feeling sentimental for those past California summers spent playing outdoor concerts, recording on lazy Sunday afternoons, and meeting up with friends at a barbeque after. And I miss the jams; having the right group of bros, and the shared will to wander into uncharted musical forests, deep blue waters, or outer galaxies. Here are a few videos: one for the jamming, two for the vibe, and three for the summer of 2005.



The masterful Mulatu and a host of groove masons. This one really tightens up around 2:47.


Audio paradise...



Brown Rainbow: my old band with Dan Judd and Sam Grawe. It was kind of a pick-up band at first, then we ended up playing a season of great shows. Those two are now Windsurf, one album and a few singles deep. There has been talk of a BR recording session at Glass Cube in Mexico. Yet to be confirmed.