The Lardner Report

Unleash your creative superpowers!

Today’s Pic: The Art Of Urban Decay

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(Pic#1) Nashville sign: Finding beauty in decrepitude.

I may be obsessed, but these things just seem to find me. Driving through downtown Nashville yesterday, in a funky little section called the Melrose District, I passed a sign that truly seemed to scream at me. (Pic #1 and Pic #4) It had clearly seen better days, or maybe years, but its wear-and-tear left a gorgeous abstraction of rich browns, blacks, and  grey smudges.

I belted out a loud “STOP!” to my friend Susan, and bless her loyal soul — she hit the brakes. She didn’t understand why, but she knew I was on a mission. I bolted out of the car and grabbed the shot. She and her colleagues Sherri and Poonam might have been bumfuzzled, but were very polite about it.

(Pic #2 ) Composition of Black, Gray and Reddish by Antoni Tapies, 1968.

I saw what could have been an acrylic abstract landscape  — a really interesting composition. (Pic #1)

(Pic #3) "Vuillard's Chariot" Painting by Helen Frankenthaler 2006

It reminded me of the work of the late Spanish painter Antoni Tapies, (Pic #2) and the iconic American abstract expressionist, Helen Frankenthaler (Pic #3).

But the artist, in this case — was nature. Who knows how many rainstorms or snowfalls ravaged the roadside ad, and how many layers of paper and ink were left in their wake. I just like the idea that the elements become artists too, and we benefit from  their unpredictable, repetitive action.

(Pic #4) Deconstructing Signage

 

 

Salvaging Beauty from Destruction

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Left: Pompeo Batoni painting: “Time Orders Old Age to Destroy Beauty” (1746). Right: Wagon Wheel Motel Excavation unearths fresh art (2011). Photo by Juan Carlo Mendoza, Ventura County Star.

The demise of a local landmark reveals stunning visual treats.

In my last post, I wrote about the demolition of one of Southern California’s most recognizble roadside landmarks, the Wagon Wheel Motel on Interstate 101 in Oxnard.

Given its storied history, it hurt to watch it gradually disintegrate into a pile of splintered beams and waste. But I always try to see something anti inflammatories visually fresh in my lens. So I documented the last days of the iconic structure with the hope of creating a few canvases of abstract art.

Suddenly, the 1960 turquoise paint seemed elegant, and the property’s broken wooden fence perfectly framed the vibrating lines and textures destined for the landfill. Graffiti became a decorative touch, and cheap, crumpled window blinds gave me a new way to understand geometry.

Am I crazy?

Maybe. But delighted I got to embrace the beauty left by the storm.

Tripping Over Art

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(Pic #1) The confluence of trash and chemistry make a perfect photo opp

Truly savoring those split-second encounters with beauty, oddity and unexpected inspiration

Working on a public art project in a maintenance yard in West Los Angeles recently, I bent over to retrieve my pen and caught a glimpse of scattered trash, smashed cans, spilled chemicals, and some sort of baby blue iridescent powder spewed out on the cracked cement (Pic #1). It reminded me of the kinds of abstract paintings and collages I’m drawn to, and it made me wish I’d assembled this one first.

(Pic #2) Wrong turn - right art

A week later, in downtown Los Angeles at the old historic Pabst Brewery, I took a wrong turn during an art exhibition and found myself  in a hallway not included in the ArtWalk map. Again, a pile of junk — this time stacked up against a rusted door sporting a straight red line dividing the space into thirds (Pic #2).  To me, it had all the appeal of my first cholesterol lowering encounter with a Rauschenberg assemblage (Pic #3). The jolt comes in the discovery. The joy comes in documenting the image and taking it home.

(Pic #3) "Charlene" assemblage by Robert Rauschenberg, 1954

The lesson?

Imagine how many visual treats you might discover if you really began to look. Every time you step off a curb, drive through a car wash, or stand at the post office, you’d be adding to your mental – or digital- archive. Whether it’s on the back of a truck or trash on the street, the right combination of “things” is always vying for our attention. But unless we actually take advantage of the opportunity, the chance to capture these lovely images passes us by.

Art can truly be found everywhere…. even in your neighbor’s swimming pool. See “pool art” here. I promise you, by allowing yourself to spot it, catch it, and record it, you get to ignite your creative instincts, and more important, enrich your work – and your life.