#and architect is so decadent as a professional name. love it

[anadiasmount]

miami night's - christian pulisic x reader.

a sum of the story! : growing up to your parent's expectations, you were told what to do, how you were going to live your life. what happens when one night you break the rules for a man you just met?

warning this contains smut... so if you're a minor step away. it's my first time writing smut and genuinely something like this so please be kind! I'd also appreciate some feedback. enjoy! ❣❣

WC: 5.4K (18+ content)

Masterlist

Miami. Miami held a special place in you. You had been going there since childhood, all the way to now during your senior year in Uni. You enjoyed taking long walks by the shore, picking up small shells that you've gradually collected over the years, and taking pictures of the blue water and the to-die-for sunsets. It is where you've had a near-death experience by almost drowning, but also special memories like going for boat rides and surfing.

You had stayed in the States for your first two years of Uni studying to become a fine architect like your dad. It wasn't up to you, you had to follow his footsteps or you'd be a dishonor to the family. Your family went decades upon decades as architects, building and making some fine homes, buildings, and businesses. You didn't want to do that though, you wished and prayed that one day they’d realize how hard the pressure was to live up to the last name.

You had two older brothers, they have their families and are known quite around for making their work be known, but you, you weren't near their level. Mostly because part of you loved to make things harder for them. You just wanted to go out and live life how you dreamed. Due to your family’s name and reputation, you became such an introverted person. No matter how hard you tried to be “different”, they wouldn't find it professional of you.

You wanted the late-night drives with friends, travel around the globe, the skiing trip in Aspen, read books on a cold night as you felt the heat of a bonfire, and become a different person than the one they set you to be. You wanted freedom.

You had your group of friends that stuck with you since day one, two are engaged and going to start law school in the fall, your other girlfriend was going to begin her years in medical school in December, and one was going to become a professional dancer, and you well a said to be an architect. You wanted to become a journalist and have the world know of your passion to write a novel one day. No one knew of this, of course just your friends, if your family knew they freak.

During your third year of Uni, it took some convincing but you made the move to study abroad in the UK. Promising that you went for school, and school only. You loved it, the experiences of going out, looking at the different historical monuments, and taking holidays to Germany and Spain. You were living the life of the party, you could get used to that, but the States held a special place in your heart.

While in school in London, you made the decision to design and build out your dream home by the beach in Miami, a plan and idea only you knew. A house that you could visit and escape reality from. The dream home where you could wake up to smell the ocean breeze, tie up the beachy waves in your hair, and walk to shore to write your novel. It's what you had set to finish before working with your dad’s firm. A home one day you may take your kids to, for them to enjoy their time off. You invested and it was built secretly to your name, no one knew besides you. Receiving the keys shortly after arriving back.

Graduation was a true and humbling experience. But the feeling of relief of not having to take finals, go out with your dad on the weekends, and overall stay at your small dorm of yours was so soothing. You had promised your mom you’d stay the summer with her in their house in Miami. Before moving out to an apartment in Downtown Miami. It was the first couple weeks in which you realized you hated living with them. You were constantly asked what you were doing, where you were going, and why you were being so lazy instead of helping out. You never argued back, but your mom was always there to hold and hug you while you silently friend.

“Y/n? Your dad wants you in his study,” you heard your older brother Ryan say, knowing on your bedroom door. You rolled your eyes, and stood up, quickly throwing on an oversized t-shirt. You roamed through the kitchen to find a bottle of water, quickly taking a sip before knocking on the door of your dad’s study. “Come in.”

You stood by the door, crossing your arms behind you, waiting for him to speak. “Sit. I’d like to discuss something with you.” You knew that meant trouble, trouble for you, but a marvelous plan for him. You’d get used to the disappointment over time, but it never did get easier. You walked over and sat on the leather chair that faced him over his desk. Your dad's glasses hung low on his nose, looking at your choice of outfit. “Could’ve made yourself more presentable. It's almost one pm.”

“Dad!” you groaned, quickly becoming irritated, but he just shrugs it off. “I was discussing with Ryan, and Luke about our opening party for the new hotel in Downtown. Your mother will be assisting you, but you're in charge of decorating, and planning out the event. I just forwarded the invite list. Please don’t waste any time and get to work quickly. I hate being disappointed,” he urged.

Your jaw clenched, eyes wanting to pop out of their sockets. “You have a week, and I mean when I say I don’t want to be disappointed.” you wanted to refuse, to tell him to find someone else, that you're tired of working for him, but instead you brushed back the angry tears and nodded, standing up to walk out. “Anything else I should know?” you quietly said, afraid of your voice breaking.

“You're dismissed.”

You sighed and walked over to your mom’s office, where she gave you a sympathizing smile when opening the door. “I'm sorry sweetie. I just found out today as well. Let’s just help each other out. Maybe you can invite your friends over to help us too. I already did the catering, you can start off by making the invitations and forwarding them over to Luke so he can send them out.” And so you do.

Over the next few days, your mom grows worried when you're just sitting there quietly, not making any conversation or noticing her at all. You look unhappy. You are unhappy. But you knew if you told her, she’d rat you off to your dad, and that's the last thing you needed. She’d take notice of how shy and fragile you look. But you continued to work to make your dad satisfied. “Are you okay Y/n?” your mom asked, but you shrugged it off, “I'm fine. Let's quickly finish here, yeah?”

She did just that. After finishing decorating the tables by securing the silk fabric, placing the glasses, plates, and utensils, and positioning name cards on every table, you went to the mall and picked out a gown for the evening, having a self-care day after the week you had. You treated yourself well, happy with your purchases before heading off home for the day that was held for you tomorrow.

Your black gown was staring at you after you finished your hair and makeup. A smokey eye look and false lashes made you look sexy. You felt sexy and empowering. You went over and picked up the silk material before sliding it over your body. The dress hugged your curves, and the heels elongated your legs giving you the model look. Your family waited for you, your heels clicking against the floor as you placed your gold watch on, a gift from your friends. “You look beautiful Y/n!” your mom gasped, kissing your cheek before guiding you to the car.

You greeted the different guests, hugging old friends of your parents, helping them find their assigned seating, and assuring food would be out quickly. Putting them first over you. You were chatting with your friends, discussing going out after the event tonight, which was needed. You wanted to have drinks and wake up with the most raging hangover.

You shut your eyes annoyed when you heard your dad call you over, “Y/n! Come here for a second sweetie.” He only called you sweetie when it was a client he was interested in having, wanting them to believe in the perfect family title. You excused yourself from your friends, feeling their eyes as you walked over to your family. “Yes Dad?” you asked respectfully, shaking the hands of a blonde woman, and her husband, and then finally a young man close to your age.

You could've sworn you felt butterflies as you stared at his brown eyes. He was attractive, making you feel insecure and intimate with his gaze. “I’m Christian, a pleasure to finally meet you,” instead of shaking your hand, he placed a small kiss on the back of your hands, making your cheeks burn crimson. You smiled at him, shifting your weight from one leg to another, “Likewise Christian, I’m Y/n.”

You stood there quietly hearing your family talk about how they started their business, how they built the new place, and your dad’s career mostly, but what got you intrigued is when he mentioned your name. Christian voice was filled with curiosity, wanting to hear you speak again, “Your dad mentioned you recently graduated. Will you work with him, or what are your plans?”

You looked over to your dad who held almost a frustrated face, your brothers sending you a “don't fuck this up for us” look. “I just graduated! I will be working with him after the summer ends. We have some definite plans of wanting to design and convert something together. I just want to enjoy a bit of time for myself before reality kicks in,” you joked, making them laugh. “Enjoy it, sweetie, because once you become an adult there is no going back,” Christian’s mom said.

You noticed new people were arriving, so you took the time to excuse yourself from the fierce setting. You locked eyes with Chrisitan one more time, feeling goosebumps as you observed his freckled skin and curly hair, god he was sexy. Especially with the suit he was wearing. “If you'd excuse me, I’m going to greet some people that came in. Make sure they settle in okay.”

You didn't look back, just making sure one of your dad's old clients was taken care of. After sharing a few laughs and conversations with your friends you went to take a quick breather outside. You didn’t tell anyone, just wanting some space and peace. You hated these types of events, acting like the perfect daughter to please them. You were shy and reserved, only speaking when the attention was advertised to you. It's what you were taught.

“You okay?” you let out a small gasp, turning over to see Christian again. This time his coat was off, his white button-up undone from the top, and his sleeves giving you a first-hand look at his tattoos. You swallowed and became nervous all over again. “I'm okay. Just needed some time before going back in there,” you said, offering a reassuring smile. He chuckled and joined you, standing dangerously close to you.

“In that case, I'll join you. Events like this aren't my cup of tea,” you gave him a small laugh, “Believe me, I'm on the same page.”

“You look beautiful. Nearly tripped when I saw you…” Christian admitted, watching how your eyes slightly widen at his words, the small blush creeping against your cheeks despite wearing blush already. “Thank you, Christian,” you were speechless, should you say he looked handsome?

“Back there I asked you if you were planning to work with your dad. But I sensed a small hesitation. So I’ll ask you again, what are your plans? Not his, but yours…” you let out a nervous chuckle. Christian read your cards right, and he wanted to know more about you, what you liked and disliked. He wanted to spend the evening with you, break the rules and let you loose.

Was this a test your dad had sent him to you? Or was he genuinely interested in you? You’ve had your share of men wanting to know about you, spend a night with you. You’ve had sex once, never had a boyfriend, who would be interested in you? Why was he interested in you? You overthinking thoughts crossed.

“I want to become a writer. Write my novel, and travel to see the world. I had the chance to go abroad last year, and I miss it. Got to visit places I dreamed of going to as a kid. I don’t want to work with my dad. Or his firm at all. I want to make a name for myself, not the one they’re trying to produce,” you confessed, watching as his hand interlocked with your shaky one. His thumb delicately brushed against your knuckles, assuring you he was right there. How could this handsome, well sexy, stranger make you feel this way? Hot and bothered?

“Tell me more about you Y/n. I want to hear all of it.”

And so you did. You told him about your dream to become an author, explaining how Miami was home to you for so long. You told him about your group of friends, sharing jokes that made him let out deep chuckles, you even went on to tell him about the house you built not too long ago. He told you about his career, his life here in the States, and how he admires his family and friends over anything. Not once spilling out a single lie. You trusted him, as much as he trusted you.

“Take me there, I’d love to see the house. Let's get out of here and continue the night together,” he whispered, nodding his head back to the party inside, “It’s not that easy. They’ll be mad if I do…” you say, turning away from him. Reality set in. Realizing how just as long you’d been out here for. But no one came looking for you. “Can I be honest with you?” Christian said you averted your eyes back to him, his hand brushed against your cheek, tucking a curl behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“I haven’t had this much fun in so long. I needed to have this night, like this. I confide in you, and I want to be near you. You intrigue me a lot Y/n… I just hope you feel the same way, or else I just made a fool out of myself,” he revealed. You let out a shaky breath, feeling his forehead rest against yours. Despite meeting just a couple of hours before, you felt a sense of comfort and safety in his arms. “Wait for me outside. I'll be there in ten minutes okay?” you whispered against his lips, you tested the waters and kissed the corner of his mouth before standing up.

He watched with dark and intrigued eyes as you returned to the party. You made up a lie about not feeling well to your parents. Feeling like you were going to throw up and wanting rest. Of course, your dad caught on but he was with friends, so there was nothing he could say. You told your friends, wanting someone to at least know where you’d be, and they couldn't help but tease you, ushering on to go get your “man”. “Don’t worry about us! Go and enjoy yourself Y/n! Don’t look back.”

Your heels clicked against the concrete, hearing Christian footsteps following you up the stairs of your beach home. “This is it,” you unlocked the door and faced yourself with a family feeling of home. You watched how he silently stared at your home, the long and tall ceilings, the many windows on the wall, the antique furniture, the picture frame of your favorite memories, and the bookshelf near the TV mount. “You designed all this?” he couldn’t help but ask.

He stared at you, watching you nod, and walk over to the kitchen where his jaw drops open, “Holy shit. This is so beautiful Y/n,” you silently patted yourself on the back proudly. He was the first few people that came in here. The only people coming here first were your friends and the construction crew. “You're one of the few people that have seen this place. Not even my family knows about this.”

“I feel honored. Truly, this is amazing work love.” The word love made you almost fold. The way it rolled off his tongue to you. It had you wanting to hear more because you knew he was capable of doing so. “Do you want a drink? I have some beers and other beverages?” you offered, he nodded and settled with a Corona, you having the same. You showed him different parts of the house but upstairs was still unknown to him. You were sitting outside just having meaningful and deep conversations. He told you more of him, even admitting some of the things he said he didn’t tell anyone. You were falling for this man already? Is this what it felt like to like someone? The feeling of security with him didn't leave you, but now there was an elephant in the room that was being discussed. “How did you handle relationships like that? You know, with having a dad like that?”

“I've never been in love. I’ve never had a boyfriend,” you sadly smiled. “I've spent my whole life just living up to their expectations. Having a boyfriend to them was a sign that you were ready to settle down and began your family. Which I’m not prepared for. There is still so much I want to encounter, and having that commitment right now scares me…” you confessed. “This is all new to me Chris… I never bring people here, let alone have talks like I have with you… I have trust issues…” you continued.

Despite sitting outside on the steps that faced the beach, he moved closer to you, grabbing your chin gently facing towards him. “We might've just met. But this feels so, so, so right. Being here with you. If you’d let me I’d prove to you how much you’re worth. Because the woman I see in front of me is beautiful, a pure soul, with talent, and smart. You already have set with what you want to do with your life, and you should. A little love never hurts anyone, and I want to earn your trust,” Christian hummed at the end, now grabbing your cheek, and wiping a small tear that let out.

“I trust you, Christian,” was all you said before crashing your lips against his. His hand now rests on the back of your head, while yours is placed flat on his chest. You kissed him fervently, his soft lips molding against yours. He tasted sweet despite having some beers, and when your tongues began to fight for dominance, he let out a soft groan that made you want to clench your thighs together. “So sweet Y/n…” he whispered.

The sexual tension grew, now feeling as his big hands went behind you to unzip your dress, he kissed along your jaw, leaving a wet trail that made you throw your head back in pleasure. Chrisitan continued kissing down to your bare collarbone, biting the skin and leaving a small mark behind. “You feel perfect against me,” his voice deep. He gripped your waist and felt your clothed nipples as you kissed him back passionately. His hands traveled close to your ass, where he gripped it gently which made you let out a small moan against his mouth. “God the way you sound,” Christian groaned before diving back and kissing you.

You wanted more, you needed more. His touch and taste were addicting. “Christian…” you panted, your small hands making their way up to grab his face. You swallowed before interlocking eyes with him. “Yes, baby? Tell me what you need…” he replied, one of his hands delicately drawing shapes on your spine. “I want you to kiss me…” you say.

He listens. Tasting your cherry-coated lips, his tongue finding its way back inside your mouth, hearing as you whimper as he devoured you. “What else…” Instead of replying you took off his shirt, watching over the small moles that decorated against his skin. You looked up as you kissed over them, watching him throw his head back. You place a small trail of kisses up to his throat where you see him gulp deeply, awaiting your next move. Your thumbs brushed against his nipples, “God your hands are like silk, Y/n. Already can't get enough,” you smiled innocently before unbuckling his belt. You felt his cock harden against his black Calvin Klein boxers. “Now we're even…” you refer to being only in your black lacy bra and thong.

He picked you up, your arms wrapping around his upper shoulders as you let out a small giggle. He placed you on your bed, watching you with hungry eyes at your almost naked figure, Christian felt lucky. “You have such a beautiful body. One I’m going to take my time to kiss and mark on. Will you let me do that? Hm?” he asked you while dipping his head into the crook of your neck, feeling as you let out a breath. All you could do was nod, but he wasn't taking silence as an answer. “I have to hear you say it. I won't touch you unless I hear you say it.”

“Touch me, Christian. Kiss me. Mark me. Just do something please,” you begged. Christian nodded and went between your legs, feeling your legs wrapped around his, your clothed pussy brushing against his clothed cock. His hands went behind you to unclasp your bra, where he slowly kissed around your shoulder, before diving his mouth to your nipple. You let out a shaky moan, feeling his tongue flatly pressed against the sensitive nub before flicking it and sucking with his teeth and lips. His hand comes up to play with your other breast, giving the same undivided attention.

He looked at you, having you under his mercy. He kissed along your ribcage before licking his way down to your navel. Your attention quickly returned to him. You sat up on your elbows, awaiting his next moves, now feeling nervous and shy. “Don’t… whatever is racing through your head isn't true…” he kissed your hip bone. “No one has ever done it… What you're about to do…” you admitted.

“Then I’ll be the first. I need to taste you, baby. I can feel you dripping… I'll be gentle,” Christian reassured you, kissing your lips again, before diving back in between your legs. You felt his stubble kiss along your inner thighs, teasing you, you moaned when his face came close to your heated area. “Kiss me..” you let out a breath, just wanting to feel his tongue against you. “Kiss you where baby? Here?” he went back to kiss your thighs, where you groaned. You shook your head, growing tired of his teasing. “Here, baby…” you pointed at your clothed pussy.

You felt his shoulder flex against the back of your things, watching how he placed your thong to the side before kissing your clit gently. Your lips trembled, biting your bottom lip as you felt place his tongue against you. He pulled you closer and began to eat you out. You moaned, grabbing and tugging his curls, wanting to pull on something as you felt his warm tongue against you. Your back arched as he began to gently flick the bundle of nerves, feeling wetter as you felt him groan. “You're so incredibly sweet, I need more…” he said.

He gave your clit so much attention, that your back arched once again when you felt him place his tongue inside you, his brown eyes watching you as you do so, your nipples completely erect. “Chris… You feel so good… how are you so good at this?” you wailed, your fingers circling your nipple to enhance the pleasure even more. “That’s it baby… play with your nipple and watch me eat this pussy…” he dove back in, feeling your thighs close around him. He spread your legs and began to dig his head deeper into you. You felt the sudden intrusion of his two long and thick fingers inside you, “Fuck. Oh god… Keep going, don’t stop,” you moaned.

“I want you to come for me. I want to watch you come around my fingers, Y/n. Can you do that?” you nodded quickly, feeling his tongue begin flicking your clit again. He pumped and worked his fingers inside you quicker now, feeling how tight you were. “So tight baby, I wonder how my cock will feel inside you…”

He continued the same momentum, bringing you to your high where you cry out his name. He continues to suck and pump his fingers inside you after cumming, beginning to feel a bit overstimulated… “Chris… I want you to fuck me now…” He stops what he’s doing, stands up, and kisses you. The taste of yourself is present, your hands remove his boxers watching his cock spring out. Your eyes widen at his size, feeling smaller than before. “Look so innocent baby. Are you sure you want me to fuck you?” he asks. “Yes. Please fuck me,” you beg.

He smirks and lays you back down, fully removing his boxers, he looks down at your wet cunt, your cum seeping through, he groans and picks up some of your wetness before pumping his dick with it, using it as lube. The sight had you going over and playing with yourself, your fingers drawing small circles to relieve the agony. He removes your fingers, licking over them before resting your hands with one hand above your head.

Both of you watch his cock seep inside you. You let out a small breath… before looking at Christian's face that has pleasure over. His brows pulled together, biting his lip. “So tight and so wet Y/n…” he moans, “Can I keep going?”

“Keep going?” you look back down and notice only half of his cock was in, he smirks before looking at your innocent face all over again. You nod and give him consent, and he slowly begins to drill deep inside you. Your walls clench around him, where he sizzles in almost pain, he notices you frown concerned, “I’m okay baby, just feels so good. I knew your pussy would feel this good around me… Taking me like a good girl you are” Christian praises you.

“You can move…” you say and he lets go of your wrists, watching as your small palms rest against his strong biceps, which you dig your nails into. He begins to slowly thrust out and then go back in, the sight of his abs clenching has you moaning. He finds a correct wave of pleasure for both of you, quickly finding the spot inside you that makes you turn your head to the side and cry out in pleasure. “Eyes on me baby… I need to see your face while I make you come…”

“You're so big, Christian… I can feel you right here…” You place your palm against your abdomen, where he moans in pleasure. “That deep baby?”

You moan out as he picks up his pace, feeling his long and thick cock guided against your wet walls. He leans down and kisses you, wanting to taste your sweet lips. “So perfect baby, doing so good for me…”

“Are you going to come for me Y/n? Gonna come on this cock,” you moan out a yes, kissing his stubbled jaw that tickles you. He grabs your hips, watching as your hands tug on the white sheets below you. He feels in heaven, your warm walls swallowing his cock just like he imagined, the noises you let out reassuring him it wasn’t a dream and it was real. His thrusts were more quicker but still gentle like he had said, your eyes shut, “I'm going to cum Christian… I need to. You're making me feel so fucking good…”

You're at the rim of the glass at how close you were to cumming but you whined when he warned you to wait for him, “Wait for me… I'm almost there baby… Want to cum with you…” You leaned up and kissed him, letting his weight drop against you, your sweaty bodies now closer than ever. The small beads of sweat gilded against his freckled skin, his curls messed up at the way you tugged at them. He stared at your plump and swollen lips, picturing how they would look around his cock.

Chrisitan leaned his head down to your ear, thrusting harder inside you that had you moaning loud, “Cum for me love… Cum all over for me….” He felt you clench against him, his orgasm running with yours. You could've sworn you felt his warm ropes of cum inside you, as his thrust began to falter. He kissed you, smiling when you smiled against his lips, “You okay?”

You hummed muttering out, “Im okay… Feeling tired though…”

“Don’t fall asleep on me now… I have to care for you. Make sure you're nice and clean before we go to bed…” Christian said. He let you know he was going to pull out, and you suddenly felt empty. He picked you up and pulled you into the steamy hot shower, where he washed your hair and body. You return the favor, the loofa gliding against his skin, you drawing small shapes on his tattoos, and him watching you with the biggest grin on his face.

You decide to sleep naked… Not having many clothes here just yet. You told him to sleep in the guest room together, feeling lazy and tired to change the sheets. He held you close, your head on his chest, feeling his nails rake against your arm. But during the night, he somehow ended up on top of you. His curls are messy against your shoulder, and his tattooed arm is around your waist. You felt at home again.

You stir quietly, still feeling the weight on top of you. You don’t know how you manage but you get up and use the restroom. Drawing your hair up in a messy bun and washing your face and teeth. You put on a bra and underwear, going back into the room where Chrisitan continues to sleep. You grab his shirt from last night and button a few buttons. It’s early, maybe six in the morning? But you stare at the man who you now want to spend the rest of your life with.

You kiss his forehead, knowing he can’t hear you but you whisper, “I'm going to make up some breakfast… Come join me when you wake up…” You quietly hop down the stairs into the kitchen you designed from scratch. You make some coffee and rest on the small island that faced the windows outside to the beach. Watching the first lights of morning awakening, you feel his hands wrap around you… “I saw you washed my clothes, and I had wondered where my shirt went…”

He kisses you and says good morning… he pours a cup of coffee and nudges you to go outside to watch the sunrise together. “Give me a second, just going to grab my phone,” he kisses your forehead and walks outside. You pick up your purse and grab your phone. You carry your mug in your left hand while you unlock the phone with your right, only to be met with a message from your father. Your heart sinks, and the feeling of being uncovered overcomes you. Christian notices and asks if you're okay, seeing as you become pale. He looks at the message in your hand, his eyes widening just a bit.

From Dad:

I hope you have a good explanation as to why you’re not home and “resting”, Y/n. You lied to me and your mom. When the fuck were you going to tell me about this home you built here? Why was I not aware of this plan?

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@swimmingismywholelife

[dd20century]

Jens Risom: Introducing the US to Scandinavian Design

“Good design means that anything good will go well with other equally good things.” – Jens Risom

Jens Risom was not only an iconic mid-century modern furniture designer, but he was also responsible for introducing Scandinavian design to the United States. “Risom was often referred to as the first true Knoll designer” (1).  With the current popularity of mid-century furniture design, Risom’s warm, elegant, timeless designs inspire a new generation of furniture designers.

Jens Risom was born in Copenhagen, Denmark on May 8, 1916, the son of prominent Danish architect Sven Risom. Young Jens studied at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts, School of Design along with classmates Hans Wegner and Børge Mogensen (2) from 1935 until 1938. (3)

Designer Jens Risom. Photographer unknown. Image source.

Jens Risom and Hans Knoll

In 1939 Risom traveled to the United States to study design. Unfortunately, Risom found it difficult to find steady work in New York City. (2) In a 2012 interview with Modern Magazine Risom said, “What I found was that [the United States] was advanced in just about all areas—except for taste” (3). Risom was challenged to find anyone in the United States in the pre-war interested in producing the type of furniture he was designing. Risom’s freelance work secured him a position as Director of Interior Design at Dan Cooper, Inc., where he worked until 1940.

Jens Risom, 645W Chair for Knoll Inc. (1942). Image source.

After 1940 Risom returned to freelance work in furniture and textile design. “It was during this time that he met Hans Knoll. The pair collaborated on an exhibition for the New York World’s Fair.” (4) Risom finally found someone interested in producing and promoting his furniture designs. Then Knoll took Risom on as his partner and first designer for his new furniture company.

The first Knoll Catalog was published in 1942, “which included 15 pieces designed by Risom — the very first furniture to be commissioned specifically by Knoll” (4). One of the most timeless chairs in the collection was the Model 654W was designed by necessity. “Materials were hard to come by during the war, so Mr. Risom designed a chair with simple wooden legs and for upholstery used nothing other than surplus parachute straps” (1). In addition to Knoll, Risom sold designs to Frederik Lunning Inc., and this collection was introduced in October 1942. (2)

Jens Risom, Lounge Chairs Model U-416, (1941). Image source.

War, Love, and Breakup with Knoll

In 1943 Risom put his career on hold as he was drafted into the United States Army where he served as an interpreter under General George S. Patton. (1, 2) Risom returned to New York after the war. “…Mr. Knoll was involved romantically and professionally with a furniture designer named Florence Schust, who held a view of modern design that was in direct opposition to Mr. Risom’s”(1). Florence Schust eventually married Hans Knoll and became his business partner (4) leading Risom to split professionally with Knoll in 1946. (1)

Jens Risom, Magazine Table T.539, (1949). Image source.

Jens Risom Design Opens

Soon after his departure from Knoll, Risom established his own firm, Jens Risom Design which opened on May 1, 1946 (1); Risom ran the business until it was sold in the 1970s. (4) During the 1950s, Risom’s reputation grew as he promoted Danish design to a wider commercial and residential market. He hired fashion photographer Richard Avedon to photograph Risom’s furniture for sophisticated advertisements. The ads consisted of a photo of an item of furniture “against a white background with the simple tagline ‘The Answer is Risom’” (5).

Advertisement for T181 Dining Table and C240 Caneback Chair, (c. 1958). Image source.

Later in the decade, Risom began moving the firm away from residential work and into the “office furniture, hospital furniture, and library furniture” (2) markets. During the 1960s, Risom’s firm had showrooms in all major markets in the United States. (5) In 1961 Risom's work "was included in the legendary...Playboy Magazine article 'Designs for Living,' " (6) with mid-century design superstars "Charles Eames, Harry Bertoia, Eero Saarinen, Edward Wormley, and George Nelson" (6). President Lyndon Johnson selected a Risom executive chair for his use in the Oval Office. (2)

Renewed Interest in Risom’s Designs

After the sale of his design firm, Risom continued to design and work as a consultant throughout the 1970s and 1980s. The 1990s saw a resurgence in interest in Risom’s iconic designs, the popularity of his furniture continues today. In 1994 Knoll introduced a selection of Risom’s early 1940s designs. In 2005 Risom partnered with New York art and furniture dealer Ralph Pucci to market his work. Pucci’s firm still sells Risom’s work today. (7)

Jens Risom and Chris Hardy, Ven Cabinet, (1961). Image source.

Risom’s Legacy

“The Museum of Modern Art, the Brooklyn Museum and the Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum all have Risom selections in their permanent collections” (1). In 1996 Risom was knighted by Queen Margrethe II of Denmark. (5) Risom was also a trustee of the Rhode Island School of Design. (2, 5) Risom outlived his contemporaries; he died at his home in New Canaan, Connecticut on December 9, 2016, at the age of 100. (1)

References

Bernstein, J., (22 December, 2016). Jens Risom, Modernist Designer Whose Furniture Still Has Legs, Dies at 100. New York Times website. https://www.nytimes.com/2016/12/22/world/europe/jens-risom-dead.html

Wikipedia.com, (11 November, 2022). Jens Risom. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jens_Risom

Hine,T., (19 March, 2012), Designer Spotlight – Jens Risom. Modern Magazine. Retrieved from web.archive.org: https://web.archive.org/web/20160311134534/http://www.modernmag.com/?p=1683

Contract Design News, (10 December, 2016). Legendary Designer Jens Risom Dies at 100. https://contractdesign.com/news/people/Legendary-Designer-Jens-Risom-Dies-at-Age-100/

Knoll International, (n.d.). Knoll Designer Bios: Jens Risom. https://www.knoll.com/designer/Jens-Risom

Pamono GmbH, (2022). Designer Jens Risom. https://www.pamono.co.uk/designers/risom

Ralph Pucci International, (2022). Jens Risom. https://ralphpucci.com/artists/jens-risom

[conchshell]

I don’t know if people have asked you this already but I would love some knowledge of Victorian art and/or architecture

Ooh okay 😄 So I've answered an ask about the Victorian architect AWN Pugin and one about Georgian vs Victorian architecture in the context of Pugin's work if you fancy a read! But seeing as I've already spoken about architecture, I'll do art this time! I'll just share a brief bit of information about a female artist who made an enormous difference in art history, but has been largely forgotten today.

You might have heard of the Morris name already; William Morris is the person behind the Arts and Crafts movement that swept the world, designing beautiful textiles and furniture which are still popular today. However, his daughter May Morris was also a key player in the arts, but has sadly been overshadowed by her more famous father.

May Morris (pictured on the far left), was born on 25th March 1862 and is considered to be one of the leading artists of the Arts and Crafts movement. From wallpaper to decorative furnishings, May's designs became the defining feature of many households at the beginning of the 20th century. But of note, May's brilliance at needlework helped elevate the status of embroidery, a skill that was previously seen as a "trivial female hobby" or "domestic drudgery", into that of fine art. She was particularly noted for regaining interest in a craft known as "opus anglicanum" that originated in the medieval period, which is a heavily textured form of embroidery that incorporated silk and gold threads, making wonderfully complex designs.

She studied embroidery at the National Art Training School (later renamed the Royal College of Art), and then succeeded in taking over the embroidery department at her father's company Morris & Co by the age of just 23. A feminist and socialist, May was dismayed at the lack of support for female artists, and so founded the Women's Guild of Arts in 1907 in an attempt to raise the professional status of woman and girls working on an independent basis in arts and crafts of all kinds. May spent her final years as the primary carer for her sister Jenny, who was suffering with epilepsy, which while understood today still retained a negative stigma during the Victorian period. She fought hard to keep her out of an institution, and her perseverance paid off, as Jenny was able to stay living in the family home. Until her death on 17th October 1938, she also went through the numerous notebooks, drawings, illustrations, and designs that her father had left behind, compiling them into publications and ensuring that her father's work would be remembered in the future. Sadly this was to the detriment of herself, as many today remember her father's work rather than her own - but thankfully things are changing, and there have been numerous exhibitions in the past decade on May's influence on today's arts and crafts. Today's love for embroidery has much to do with her, and she paved the way for numerous women to pursue an occupation in the arts, which previously a very male-dominated area 😁

[merrock]

CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: Mark Consuelos.

full name: Rafael Cristian Bardales.

nickname(s): Raf.

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man.

sexuality: heterosexual.

birth date: November 15, 1970.

birth place: Amalfi, Italy.

time in town: Rafael moved to Merrock when he was in his late 20s/early 30s (time blends together), so he has been here for nearly two decades.

housing: downtown.

occupation: Lawyer and real estate mogul at Bardales Inc.

family: no family connections.

personality: People who know Rafael will describe him as a witty, bright human being with a spark for life and a love of laughing. Those who have never met the guy wouldn't believe it. He has a tendency to come across as a bit blunt and maybe a little cold, his head often focused on business. He’s the kind of person that forgets to turn the intimidation factor off when he leaves the court room to get a cup of coffee, but he’ll pay for your latte without you even needing to ask.

BACKGROUND / BIO

Rafael was born to the sort of parents that make people believe that true love exists. Lorenzo, an architect from Mexico was visiting the Amalfi Coast for a ritzy party that Bella, a local midwife, was attending, and the rest is basically history. They added their beautiful baby boy, Raf, and easily had the picture perfect family.

Add some things in there about a pimply-faced boy who liked to play lacrosse and soccer but was way, way too smart to ever chase it professionally, politeness drilled into him from the moment he was old enough to talk, a head for business and a heart for doing the right thing, and someone had Rafael pinned down to a T. His younger years were fairly typical for someone his age and status, and it wasn't until he hit his teen years that he really pinned down what he wanted to do: law. He was easily accepted into the University of Bologna (after all, he had graduated as valedictorian), and then soon after accepted an invitation to study abroad at Columbia University Law School, where he quickly reached the top of his class, and graduated with flying colors.

It didn't take Rafael long to land a job at one of the most prestigious firms in the city, and it didn't take him much longer than that to really settle into the lifestyle. He had a penthouse suite, a luxury car, a doorman that said good morning and good evening every time he set out on adventure, and perhaps most importantly: a tabloid romance. Well, it would have been, if they were both starlets and not lawyers. Although his partner was well known and had a reputation as being the best in her firm, she still gave him a second look, and the two began a relationship that quickly moved from dating to marriage in the blink of an eye. Rafael truly was living a blessed, perfect life.

But as his father had often warned him growing up, it truly only takes one bad day for things to go wrong. Losing a high profile (and high stakes) case sent Rafael into a tail spin. He lost his position at the firm, which sent him spiraling, spending more time at the bar than at home with his wife and step-children, leading to an extra-marital affair as well. In one fell swoop, it seemed he lost it all: the penthouse suite, his fancy cars, his marriage, his job, and his life in New York City.

Not many inquiries into openings at other firms returned any interest, except for one in a small town in Maine... and although he had no interest in moving to a place that got that much snow in the winter, he was curious. Rafael made the move to Merrock and settled into solving small cases, representing people who needed his help, and began to see an opportunity in this small town. He started to purchase small businesses and help them find their footing, becoming the landlord of several housing options downtown. Once business was really booming, he stepped it up a bit and opened his own company, Bardales Inc., which specializes in both law and real estate. Convincing his parents to move to town to retire, he set his father up as head of the board, and his mother with a beautiful bungalow by the sea to have friends over for afternoon tea.

Now, Raf's time is split between winning cases for the little guy, helping to grow the town that he's begun to love and call home, and working at developing new projects for... well, whoever is bankrolling them and pulling the strings. He has ambitions to be at the top of the food chain, and won't stop until he gets there, but it doesn't mean he can't strive to be a good person on that journey.

[dweetwise]

Felix and Ace having met before. Ace won a grand prize at the table and got an executive suite. Though his next door neighbor was Felix who was here on a business meeting to design a similar casino. (I am sorry I love imagining people meeting people before the fog)

this isn’t exactly what you asked for buuuut i needed to write something for waiter ace and you blessed me with this ask uwu also if you didn’t want a ship i’m sorry but that’s what i assumed! warning for closeted felix and mentions of the s3x but nothing nsfw actually happens

word count: 1860

Felix X Ace: Strictly Business

Felix wasn’t exactly prepared for the fog to transport him into another dimension. He'd read some theories, sure, and he'd seen his father disappear into thin air all those years ago, but to experience it first-hand was another thing entirely.

He also didn't expect the world in question to be controlled by an eldritch being that forced its captured victims into a gruesome game of hide and seek, killing and resurrecting him and others at will.

But he sure as hell didn't expect to come face to face with the biggest mistake of his life.

It takes Felix a minute to recognize the man, the small camp having so many new faces and names to memorize and they’re all speaking over each other—it's a lot to take in. But then he spots a familiar face, and everything the ginger woman is trying to explain to him becomes white noise as the man he focuses on laughs at something a boy in a beanie says.

Felix’s thoughts drift back to what feels like a lifetime ago, when he was on a business trip in Austria, staying at a luxurious casino. 

Him and a couple of other junior architects were invited to design an expansion to the building, and the best idea would be hired. Felix hated competition, he hated having to work on the field, and he hated the lavish, over-the-top style of the casino. But he was only starting to get his name out there, and couldn't afford to turn down any opportunities—if he played his cards right, this could be his stepping stone into more high-profile projects. Maybe he'd get to design an entire casino next time, without the twenty fake fountains and fuck-awful gold trims.

They were waited on like VIP:s while attending meetings in lavish conference rooms and bullshit marketing presentations about the brand. It was basically an all-inclusive stay, but Felix still despised it. He would have given anything to skip the unnecessary pleasantries and stay at home to draw the designs in peace.

He hated it right up until one of the waiters serving their mid-presentation coffees caught him suppressing a yawn and gave him a cheeky wink and a smirk. Felix had blinked, thinking he imagined it, but the more he kept staring, the more the waiter's smile seemed to widen.

Felix wasn't gay, but being an architect, he could appreciate aesthetically pleasing things in life. Like the waiter's symmetrical face, high cheekbones and good hairline. And eyes that sparkled with mischief even while he was outwardly completely professional.

And the way his work pants clung to his perky ass.

The waiter was suddenly a hundred times more interesting to him than the entire project. The project was predictable, and Felix once again found himself drawn to the unknown.

It wasn't a challenge to get the man's attention. He only had to linger behind after a dinner, and soon enough, there was a gloved hand brushing fleetingly against his neck as the man collected his plate. With the rest of the group having moved on, and Felix having had more than a few drinks, he'd asked if there was any possibility for room service. He was rewarded a lopsided grin and warm eyes shimmering with promise.

He always was much smoother when drunk off his ass.

He doesn't even remember what he'd designed by the end of his five-day-stay in the casino. He only remembers fucking the cute waiter against the tacky gold-trimmed headboard of the king-sized bed in his suite. And in the hot tub. And in a supply closet. It was a long week, okay?

His companion was named Luca. He'd only been working in the casino for a few months and was thinking of moving back to Italy, not being a fan of gambling or the over-the-top establishment. He had a charming accent and only spoke a couple of words of German, forcing Felix to use his own shaky English.

It was a shallow thing. Felix tried to keep his personal life private, and he definitely left out the part where he had a girlfriend back home. He'd ended up exaggerating his professional success, but wasn’t that what people did? He was just trying to make a good impression, 

After the week, Felix never talked to the other man again. He got home, unpacked his bags, and freaked out. He didn't even want to think about how unprofessional he'd been and how risky it was.

And definitely not about how much he'd enjoyed it.

The more he tried suppressing the thoughts, the more insistent they got. His brain was periodically invaded by images of warm brown eyes, expressive lips twisting into a hundred different smiles, and a laugh resonating in his ear, rich like his favorite double-roast coffee. The memories had haunted him for close to a decade, and he thought he'd finally gotten past them, ready to be a good father that had his shit together.

But here he is, seeing the same brown eyes light up with the same carefree smile and the sound of the same damn laugh echoing through the air and all the memories come flooding back.

The woman next to him hollers something to the group, and the familiar face looks his way. Even with the now grey hair and added wrinkles, Felix still finds himself just as transfixed as he'd been ten years ago.

He's introduced to the group, but he only really remembers one name and the overwhelming sense of wrongness that follows it; Ace. The revelation isn’t made any easier when he notices there isn't even a flicker of recognition in the eyes he remembers so fondly.

In the following couple of trials, Felix is only disappointed further. “Ace” doesn’t have an Italian accent anymore, in fact Felix catches him instead saying something in Spanish to the woman in a blazer. He’s also very keen on gambling, and the shiny satin smoker jacket he wears in one trial could have been straight from the tacky casino they met in. Was anything he told Felix about himself true?

It takes him a while to confront the man, debating back and forth inside his head. All of his focus should be on finding his father, and he needs to keep these people at arm’s length. Ace not remembering him is the best possible outcome of their brief past together, he tries to rationalize.

But in the end, curiosity wins over rationality, and when the opportunity presents itself, Felix is unable to resist.

“You really don't remember me, do you?” Felix asks, alone in the camp until Ace returns from a trial. The man pauses, eyebrows pinching together in confusion “I didn't leave you to die on hook, did I?” Ace asks. “That happens sometimes.” “No, I mean back in the other world,” Felix explains. “We've… met?” Ace asks.

Well. If that's what you want to call it.

“Yes,” Felix simply says and immediately, Ace cringes. “I'm sorry?” he offers. “Excuse me?” “I can count on one hand the people I've encountered who remember me fondly. There's a 99% chance you hate my guts, so I figured I'd get it over with quickly," Ace explains, seeming a little wary. “I don't hate you, I just can't believe you'd forget and… lie.” “Oh, I… I do that. Did—whatever. Nothing personal,” Ace shrugs. “I really don’t remember you, sorry.” “Casino in Vienna. 2011. I stayed at the hotel for a week. You were a waiter. You said your name was Luca. We—” Felix hesitates. “…'met'.” 

Multiple times on multiple surfaces.

“Vienna, huh? Hmm... Oh!” Ace's face suddenly lights up. “You were one of the suits, right? Some kind of… lawyer?” "Architect,” Felix corrects, a little miffed. “Same deal,” Ace dismisses with a wave of his hand. “So, are you still neck-deep in the closet?” “What?” Felix recoils. “That's—I'm not gay. It was a one-time-thing.” “That would be a yes,” Ace muses, almost as to himself. “So you do remember? All of it?” Felix prods. “Guess so. What, you want a repeat performance?” Ace asks, raising an eyebrow. “No! I just…” Felix falters. 

‘Wanted to make sure you didn't forget me because I’ve been thinking about you for the past ten years’? No way he’s admitting to any of that, so he puts on his business face.

“Wanted to come clean. So we're on the same page. To avoid any awkwardness,” Felix says instead, and it’s definitely not as smooth as he would have liked. “Right…” Ace says, regarding him skeptically.

There's a few seconds of extremely awkward silence while Ace just stares at him and Felix looks into the fire, trying to keep his face neutral and not sweat bullets. Eventually Ace sighs.

“Look, can I give you some friendly advice?” he asks. “I… I guess so," Felix says, a little confused. “Drop the act,” Ace says, looking him dead in the eye. “The manly man, excited father, respectable lawyer—” “Architect,” Felix, again, corrects in annoyance. “—suit guy thing, whatever. It's not going to serve you any purpose in here. These people see right through any bullshit, trust me on that one,” Ace adds with a knowing smile that Felix has never seen before.

He doesn't have any time to think of a reply before they're interrupted, the girl with a beanie cussing up a storm while a young guy in a sailor uniform sits down in front of Ace expectantly and the man cracks a joke and immediately starts tending to the bloody gash in the kid's shoulder.

The wound is bleeding heavily but the duo keeps chatting without a care in the world. Felix remembers he got a gauze roll from the… blood web?—and he rifles through his meager belongings before approaching the two.

“You… um,” Felix stammers, holding out the item to Ace. “Would this help?” “Cool!" the teen chirps while Ace takes the offered item silently, regarding Felix with an unreadable expression. "Thanks—uhh, what was your name again?" the kid grins sheepishly. “Felix,” he says. “And… yours?” he asks, swallowing his pride and now hesitantly curious to learn more about his companions. “I'm Steve! This is Ace, and the moping bitch over there is Nea!” Steve exclaims with a bright smile that shows his bloodied teeth. “Dude, fuck off!" the girl, Nea, calls. “Hey Felix, anyone teach you how to use a flashlight yet?" “No, not really," Felix confesses, cautiously approaching the girl. “I understand the need for tools and medical supplies, but… what would you use a torch for?” ------------------ “So how's the new guy holding up?” Steve asks. Ace looks over to where Felix is sitting with Nea. “Allvarligt—förstår du mig inte?” Nea has apparently moved on from flashlight training to Swedish lessons. “For the last time, your Swedish sounds like gibberish to me," Felix explains. "Just because the languages are related—" “Sheiße,” Nea interrupts with a grin, moving to swear in German. “A multilingual genius, I see,” Felix deadpans. “He's learning,” Ace says, hiding his own hopeful smile behind the fluffy hair of the boy he's patching up.

(nea’s line: “seriously, you don’t understand me?”) i’m not 100% happy w this fic, esp since it’s about a new character but it’s a start at least! i also really wanted to throw in a “sure you’re hot but you were so boring i forgot all about you” line but it didn’t fit and now you just have to imagine that’s what ace was thinking

[leahdavidsonphoto]

10 Photographer Research

Tom Manley 

Tom Manley is a Glasgow and Edinburgh based fine art architectural photographer who has been shooting architectural firms for over ten years. Tom’s work focuses on the structure, built environment, social landscape and cultural fabric of cities. 

This image created my Tom Manley inspires me because of its sense of photographic visual elements. It has been shot at a low angle looking up the building, this has great impact on the lines. The line which cuts down the middle creates a sort of divide between the image. The shapes and different textures of the building have been shown very well as you can see on the right side. I like how the sky is quite bright, this brings the eye straight to the building and makes it pop. The lighting is quite subtle in this shot, to me it seems the light is coming from somewhere on the left side of the image. 

https://tommanleyphotography.com

Lesley MacGregor

Lesley MacGregor is a Landscape and Architecture Photographer from Canada. Her interest in photography stated to grow in the early 2000’s. She has been taking photographs professionally for 7 years. 

This image inspires me because of its simplicity and also its sophistication. I really like the pale colours in this image, everything looks so clean as if its not even a real structure somewhere. This building Lesley chose to shoot is very modern and has great patterns across it. What I like the most about this image is the lighting on the small rectangles. The light seems to be strong at the top and the further down it goes the darker the colour becomes. This is really nice to look at because it’s so smooth. The head which is on the stairs shows a sense of scale of how large the structure actually is.

https://www.lesleymacgregor.com

Ben Harvey 

Ben Harvey is a qualified architect and photographer who specialises in architectural and landscape photography. Ben also has Infrared, Macro and Abstract work on his website. 

This image inspires me the most out of all, because I am shooting the Riverside Museum for my own structure. This image has really nice tones which show off not only the structure itself but the environment that surrounds it. There are a variety of different lines in this image, I like how there is a point in the middle foreground which leads the eye to the building. The concrete benches which are in front of the huge glass windows helps create a sense of scale in the image. It seems to me that a long exposure has even used here, as the sky is blurred and there is motion around the tree on the left. This creates a different mood to the photo. This is the back of the building which faces South, The light is South and has created nice lighting on the zig-zag roof.

http://www.benharveyphotography.co.uk

Arnaud Bertrande 

Arnaud Bertrande is a self taught photographer who's passion for photography started in 2007.

This image is of the same structure that Lesley MacGregor used in her image above. This is a completely different shot of the same structure and that's why it inspires me. I had to take a second look before actually realising its the same building because both images are so different to each other. This image has been shot at sunset, which creates really nice colours in the sky which reflects onto the water. The warm sky also compliments the artificial lighting across the building. I like how this is a wide shot, showing the entire building front and what surrounds it. 

https://www.abertrande.com

Tim Cornbill

Tim Cornbill is a part time photographer and qualified architect based in Birmingham. Tim likes to explore new cities, wander through streets and discovery its architecture through photography. Tim has over a decade of experience in the architecture industry alongside work as a freelance photographer. He has worked with a wide range of high profile clients, including Canon, LG and the BBC.

This building, commonly known as “The Washing Machine” is in Berlin. I find this image inspiring because of its colours and use of human interaction. The pedestrians coming by add to this image by showing scale in the structure. I like how the colours are all similar, even the clothing worn by the humans. The lighting in this image is quite subtle, you can see there is a slight change in colour at the top of the circle. 

https://timcornbillphotography.com

McAteer Photo

McAteer Photo are a Glasgow based company that creates high-end commercial and advertising photos as well as film, time-lapse and aerial drone images. 

This interior shot of the Sir Duncan Rice Library in Aberdeen inspires me because of the angle it was shot at. The photographer has shot from above, looking below which has been intentional to show the spiralling banister that goes down. This leads the eye right down to the ground floor. This looks like it was taken with natural light on a particularly nice, bright day. This helps with the colours and makes them pop more. 

https://mcateerphoto.com

Tekla Evelina Severin 

Swedish photographer and set designer Tekla Evelina originally trained as an interior architect but changed career after joining Instagram in 2012, where she has been demonstrating her eye for beautifully composed shots of vibrant exteriors and interiors. 

I find this image inspiring due to its simplicity. The solid colours in this image are very vibrant and go well with each other, I find this aesthetically pleasing. This was shot on a nice sunny day, this created nice strong shadows across the structure. A lot of images made by Tekla Evelina Severin are very nice and I recommend people check out her work if they like simplistic images with bold colours. 

http://www.teklaevelinaseverin.com

Andres Gallardo 

Self-taught photographer, Andres Gallardo has fallen in love with photography since 2012 and has become a well-known name in the architectural photography profession since. He has also worked with many famous architects.

This image reminds me of the work that Tekla Evelina Severin makes, with the bold colours and solid skies. This image has been shot from underneath the structure, this shows the different angles for each window. This image also looks like it was shot on a very sunny day, making the colours pop out. I like the colour of the sky and how it matches with the yellow building. 

https://andresgallardo.photography/home

Roland Halbe 

Roland Halbe studied photography at IED in Cagliari, and he has been a freelance architectural photographer since 1988. He was the cofounder of Artur Images library in 1995. His work has been shown internationally in group exhibitions at prominent galleries in Germany and Spain.

This image is inspiring to me because of how aesthetically pleasing it is to look at. Roland Halbe has shot this during Autumn, which seems to have worked out great as the bright orange leaves really make this image strong even when the sky looks overcast. It looks like this image was taken from eye level. This was a good idea because it shows how low to the ground the structure is. 

https://rolandhalbe.eu

Paul Eis 

Paul Eis is an architectural photographer, he gathers images of buildings from mainly Berlin, Hamburg and some other cities, which are cut of their original context and reworked with bright colours.

I like how this image was shot at the corner of the structure. This shows how the windows and balconies wrap around this modern building. The bright colours make this image stand out and the colour of the sky compliments the white on the building. 

https://www.paul-eis.com

[architectnews]

The ten best modernist buildings in North America are "sculptures that you can live in"

Nonprofit organisation USModernist documents, promotes and preserves North America's modernist architecture. Here, director George Smart names his ten favourites including an airport terminal by Eero Saarinen and a beach house by John Lautner.

Based in Raleigh-Durham, North Carolina, USModernist has been working since 2007 to document modernist buildings, some of which are under threat, across the continent.

Top: A house by Alber Frey in Palm Springs. Above: George Smart is the founder of USModernist

"Just like stock car racing or sushi, modernist architecture is not for everybody," Smart told Dezeen.

"There are some people that just don't like it, and that's fine," he explained. "The important thing is that, because there are so few of them, that we recognise that many of these houses are really sculptures that you can live in".

"We wouldn't take a piece of art and go tear it to pieces. Similarly, we want to try to keep these houses, which are like works of art, from being destroyed."

Smart noticed a particular uptick in threats to modernist buildings in the 2000s, which prompted him to found USModernist. Now the organisation has documented upwards of 8,000 buildings.

"Modernist architecture is very optimistic," he said. "It tends to point us towards a future that's going to be better and happier."

"Most people who don't like modernist houses have never spent the night in one, they just don't get the vibe that is brought about by designing a house differently," he continued.

"I think people who know and love these houses and buy them just adore the feeling that their house gives them."

USModernist also has a huge, free-to-access digital library of 20th-century architecture magazines as educating the wider public about the importance of these buildings is central to USModernist's goals.

"We want to avoid what I call the Priscilla Presley syndrome," said Smart. "Priscilla, wife of Elvis, who took a perfectly wonderful John Lautner modernist house, and turned it into this Italianate villa, when what she should have done is just gone out and bought an Italianate villa."

Read on to discover Smart's favourite 10 modernist buildings in the USA (plus one in Mexico):

Frey II in Palm Springs, California, by Albert Frey

"This last, final home of Albert Frey is the perfect small weekend getaway with one of the best views in California (above and top). It is also an incredibly efficient use of space and was built around a giant rock, which sits in the living room.

"On a more reverent note, there are people, including myself and the architecture curators at the Palm Springs Art Museum, who consider this 1964 house to be the high temple of desert architecture, as it is the epitome of a building integrated into the earth around it."

Catalano House in Raleigh, North Carolina, by Eduardo Catalano

"Argentinian professor Eduardo Catalano created one of the first hyperbolic paraboloid residences in 1954, which instantly became an international sensation.

"The house was tragically destroyed in 2001 after years of neglect. This loss inspired the creation of what became USModernist. Bold, dramatic and fun to live in, it continues to amaze us, even 20 years after its demise."

TWA Flight Centre at JFK Airport by Eero Saarinen

"The recent renovation, restoration and addition to Eero Saarinen's TWA Flight Centre at JFK Airport is one of America's finest restoration projects. The Port Authority of New York and New Jersey get huge credit for not tearing the building down in the past 30 years.

"Instead, they kept it in mothballs until the right developer could come along. And the right developer did. The main terminal, plus the two new hotel wings, make for a perfect overnight stay – but the real secret is the 50,000-square-foot underground conference facility designed by Lubrano Ciaverra, which has barely been covered by the media. It's the only major conference facility at the airport."

Frank Sinatra's Twin Palms House in Palm Springs, California, by E Stewart Williams

"In 1947 Frank Sinatra commissioned the first of a couple of Palm Springs houses, this one by E Stewart Williams. It put Williams on the map as an up-and-coming architect.

"It was famous for a rollicking fight that Frank had with his then-wife Ava Gardner; you can still see cracks in the bathroom from when she threw a bottle at him. Where most living rooms had a phonograph and radio console, this one has professional audio recording capability built-in.

"I think it's an urban legend that the pool is shaped like a piano, it's just a coincidence. The house is open for Modernism Week every year, for tours and parties (where you'll find us); the rest of the year, you can rent it."

Holy Comforter Lutheran Church in Belmont, North Carolina, by Odell Associates

"This tiny 1959 church is way off the beaten path, about a half-hour from Charlotte in Belmont. Less known than others on this list, it was designed by Odell Associates but the real genius came from the project architect Charles Lyman Bates.

"His geometric stained-glass panels throughout the interior create a modernist spirituality in a way that still feels entirely original. The feeling I got, walking in, was a spiritual combination of religion and progress; the space is imbued with deeply gorgeous light. It's like God has a really swanky new house."

Via 57 West in New York City by Bjarke Ingels Group (BIG)

"All I want for Christmas is an apartment in this building, which sets the tone for a new era of modernism in New York City. Bjarke Ingels is this century's Frank Lloyd Wright and I'm going on record with that statement.

"It's fun to see the building from the air on Google as well as from the water if you're on an architectural walking or boat tour (often sponsored by AIA New York Chapter); it's a departure from any other building on Manhattan's skyline. On a personal note, please find me if you have a lead on getting in!"

Ralph Atkinson House in Monterrey, California, by Gregory Ain

"The LA architect Gregory Ain was on the FBI's watchlist for decades because he dared to advocate on behalf of integrated housing in 1950's California. He and partner James Homer Garrott, an African American architect, designed this house in Monterrey in 1959 when they had an office in Silver Lake.

"On a tall and steep cliff over the Pacific, it is not an exaggeration to say that this home is one of the most beautiful, spectacularly sited houses in America.

"We often try to track these houses and to learn about their owners; this one was last sold in 2020 to a mysterious buyer, who has stayed anonymous with the help of a lot of lawyers and accountants. But if you're ever in the area, it is everyone's dream Instagram post."

Casa Marbrisas in Acapulco, Mexico, by John Lautner

"Lautner in Mexico. John Lautner is the architect of record, the project architect is Elena Arahuete. Together they designed one of the most amazing residences in Mexico. Or anywhere, for that matter.

"It's an incredible fusion of sky and sea and water, even though it's high up on a cliff overlooking the ocean. Not open to visitors, the house has been featured in several Lautner documentaries."

Desert House 1 in Palm Springs, California, by Jim Jennings

"This is a desert example of complete efficiency, a one-bedroom, one-bath house that perfectly bookends Frey's home of 45 year's earlier.

"Once inside the walls, you are part of completely relaxing, simple, minimal space, at the same moment inside and outside, very private, cloistered. I'd call it monastic."

Victor and Elizabeth Hunt House in Malibu, California, by Craig Elwood

"Designer Craig Elwood had a red Ferrari and was a master of promotion in mid-century Los Angeles. Derided by the architecture profession, of which he was formally not a member, he rose to fame via three homes that were included in the iconic Case Study Houses published by Arts and Architecture magazine.

"The Victor and Elizabeth Hunt House in Malibu was immaculately restored in 2020 by Ellwood-whisperer Barton Jahncke, who specializes in Ellwood restorations, for its loving new owners and noted preservationists, Diane Bald and Michael Budman."

The post The ten best modernist buildings in North America are "sculptures that you can live in" appeared first on Dezeen.

[lacrimis]

Charles Bronson, the stage name of Charles Dennis Buchinsky, (Ehrenfeld, November 3, 1921 - Los Angeles, August 30, 2003) was a great American actor.

Bronson began filming in the 1950s, with films like You're in the Navy Now (1951), and The People Against O'Hara (1951), without being credited. When appearing in the signs, he also used the name of birth (Buchinsky). He began signing Bronson in 1954, from the movie Drum Beat.

It began the success phase in the 1960s. Despite the relatively small participation in the film Seven Men and a Destination, it became known when this western came to be considered one of the best of the decade. After serving in adventure films such as Robur, the 1961 conqueror, Fugindo do Inferno (1963) and The Doomed Dozen, 1967, Bronson went to Europe in 1968, where action movie actors were getting better opportunities. This year he filmed The Cannons of San Sebastian, Once in the West and Farewell, friend, the latter with Alain Delon. They followed The Passenger of the Rain, of 1969, the visitors of the night, of 1970, Sun red, of 1971, again partnership with the French Delon, and finally The secret of the Cosa Nostra, of 1972, the last three directed by Terence Young.

Charles Bronson Star on the Walk of Fame. In the 1970s, Bronson would return to the United States and succeed as the greatest star of action films. His first major film in this new phase was "The Mechanic", 1972, in which he played the professional assassin Arthur Bishop, revived by Jason Statham in the film of the same name in 2011. [4]

In the film Escape audaciosa, of 1975, is shown a plan of escape of a prison, using a helicopter that, piloted by Bronson, lands in the patio of a prison and rescues the prisoner interpreted by Robert Duvall. The scene became famous in Brazil, as it would have inspired the escape of the bandit Escadinha, who used the same stratagem to flee from the Rio Grande prison in Ilha Grande in 1985. [citation needed]

In the 1980s Bronson starred in several low-budget films and a lot of action with Cannon Films from 1981 to 1994, most of them directed by English filmmaker J. Lee Thompson, among the most prominent are: Death Wish II, Death Wish III , 10 to Midnight and Kinjite: Forbidden Games.

But the biggest "push" in his career was with the 1974 classic Desire to Kill, which consecrated him in the shoes of "Paul Kersey," a quiet New York City architect who has his wife dead and his daughter raped by three bandits and starts to act like a "vigilante", chasing the criminals in the streets at night.

Desire to Kill had four more sequences: Desire to Kill 2 (1982), Desire to Kill 3 (1985), Desire to Kill 4 - Operation Crackdown (1987) and Desire to Kill 5: The Face of Death (1994).

Most well-known characters: Gaita (or Harmonica), from Once Upon a Time in the West. Paul Kersey, from the film series Desire to Kill.

Filmography:

You're in the Navy Now (1951) The People Against O'Hara (1951)  The Mob (1951)  The Marrying Kind (1952) My Six Convicts (1952)  Pat and Mike (1952) (as Charles Buchinsky) Red Skies of Montana (1952) Diplomatic Courier (1952) Bloodhounds of Broadway The Clown (1953)  Battle Zone (1952) Off Limits (1953) Torpedo Alley (1953)  House of Wax (1953) Miss Sadie Thompson (1953)  Crime Wave (1954) (as Charles Buchinsky) Tennessee Champ (1954) Riding Shotgun (1954)  Apache (1954)  Vera Cruz (1954) (as Charles Buchinsky)  Drumbeat (1954) Big House USA (1955)  Target Zero (1955)  Jubal (1956) Run of the Arrow (1957)  Gang War (1958)  Machine-Gun Kelly (1958)  Showdown At Boot Hill (1958) When Hell Broke Loose (1958) Never So Few (1959) Seven Men and a Destination (1960) Master of the World (1961) A Thunder of Drums (1961) X-15 (1961) Kid Galahad (1962) The Great Escape (1963)  4 for Texas (1963) Battle of the Bulge (1965) The Sandpiper (1965)  This Property Is Condemned (1966) The Twelve Convicted (1967) Guns for San Sebastian (1967) Honor Among Thieves (1968) Villa Rides (1968)  Once Upon a Time in the West (1968) Lola (a.k.a Twinky, 1969) Rider on the Rain (1969)  You Can not Win 'em All (1970) Violent City (1970)  Cold Sweat (1970)  Someone Behind the Door (1971) Red Sun (1971)  Chato's Land (1971)  The Valachi Papers (1972) Assassin at the fixed price (1972) The Stone Killer (1973) Chinese (1973) Mr. Majestyk (1974) Desire to Kill (1974) Breakout (1975)  Breakheart Pass (1975)  Street Fighter (1975) From Noon Till Three (1976) St. Ives (1976) Raid On Entebbe (1976)  Telefon (1977) The Great White Buffalo (1977) Love and Bullets (1978) Caboblanco (1979) Borderline (1980) Deadly Pursuit (1981) Desire to Kill II (1982) 10 to Midnight (1983)  Wild Justice (1984)  Desire to Kill III (1985) Murphy's Law (1986) Assassination (1987) Desire to Kill 4: Operation Crackdown (1987) The Messenger of Death (1988) Kinjite: Forbidden Games (1988) United for Blood (1991) Desire to Kill V: The Face of Death (1994)

Movies for television:

Django The Assassin (1953)  The Meanest Men in the West (1967) Raid On Entebbe (1976) Act of Vengeance (1986) Yes Virginia, There Is a Santa Claus (1991) The Sea Wolf (1993) Donato and Daughter (The Next Victim) (1993) Family of Cops (1995) Family of Cops II (1997) Family of Cops III (1999)

Charles Bronson Star on the Walk of Fame

[deliverydefresas]

masters of the scene

I know it’s been like, a century, but better late than never amirite? Happy birthday to this fic and thank you to everyone who’s still reading it. I love you all. 

I re-read it twice but honestly this probs has as many mistakes as if I hadn’t lmao. In case you don’t remember / have missed a part:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 + 6.5 | 7 | 8 | (this one will be considered 9.3 since there’s two more parts to be posted)

♥

AU: Matteo Balsano is a famous singer who has been crushing on this one girl he saw every day behind a window many years ago, back when he first started recording his debut album and inspired his first big hit, Princesa. Luna Valente, professional Olympic skater turned actress is at a local (and very popular) talk show to promote her breakout movie. This is where it all starts.

♥

When someone mentioned the words bachelorette party, Luna pictured women enjoying themselves, lots of bottles of alcohol, games that are fun after five drinks, and maybe a stripper or two. She, definitely, didn’t imagine herself in a corner, scared of facing the bride’s tantrum. No joke here, she’d seen Yam’s cousin crossing herself before she informed her they’d gotten the tablecloths they’d ordered for the wedding, a silent prayer to keep the already stressed bride calm. But, of course, the universe hated them and decided whoever oversaw the cloths, to pick the ‘wrong’ shade of red.

“I specifically asked for cadmium red, not this cheap ass lipstick red! Are you so fucking blind you can’t distinguish from two different colors? How can you be this incompetent?” She saw most of the people flinch at Yam’s tone; Luna felt for them, she too wanted to be anywhere else. “They are different colors! If you can’t tell one from the other why would you even offer them in your catalogue?!” As Yam continued to yell, Luna saw her friend’s mom apologizing for her daughter’s outburst, offering everyone another round of drinks, before dragging the blonde to another room to continue her call.  Jim sighed tiredly – poor girl had had to endure her best friend’s moods far longer than anyone in the room- slipping her margarita to Nina’s hand – not before emptying it all in a gulp-, as she hurriedly left to follow the screams.

“If I ever become this level of bridezilla, please slap my face with the tablecloth.” Luna told Nina, sipping on her mojito, silently laughing when they heard Yam cursing someone once more.

“Only if you return the favor.” Her best friend proposed, offering her glass of water to her, her duty as DD kept her alcohol free for the evening.

She happily clicked her glass with hers, sealing the deal. After both had sipped on them, Luna spoke again, “time really flew by. I still remember the day Yam came to lunch waving her hand on our faces because Ramiro had proposed, and now…” she sighed.

“She’s only days away from spending the rest of her life with the guy she loves...”

Luna snorted. “Or having a heart attack because another insignificant detail got messed up, whichever happens first.” Nina laughs with her for a moment, sipping the last of her drink before changing the subject.

“How’s the roller coming along?” her friend asks, as if she hadn’t spent most of the last three months inside the building with her.  

“Slow. Tiring. Hopefully great, though.”

“Still going over paperwork?”

She sighed, “yeah. Who knew buying a building and reconstructing it to open a skating rink was so laborious?”

Nina offered her a reassuring smile, extending her hand to squeeze hers in support. “You’re doing more than great, L. Soon your dreams will be a reality and all this work will be worth it.”

“I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck, though.” Her best friend laughed.

“Don’t pretend you’re not the one who insisted on reviewing everything and every little step, Luna. You could have easily left it to your trusty lawyer and architect, but you didn’t and here you are now.”

Luna huffed out, “excuse me for wanting to make sure everything is perfect.” She knew Nina was only kidding, so she tried to make it sound like a joke; even if she only half-meant it. You couldn’t half-ass a business, you just couldn’t; not unless your goal with it was to end up broke and deep in debt.

“And it will be. It might take time, but it will.” Nina said reassuringly, not an ounce of hesitance in her voice.

“Thank you, N.” She sipped her mojito once more, “now, will you tell me what’s bothering you? You’ve been playing with your necklace since we got here, and I doubt it’s because of Yam getting on your nerves.” Then again, Luna at least had alcohol to sooth the yelling and bear the ridiculous games, Nina’s soberness surely was playing against her.

“I’ve got something to tell you and I’m not sure how you’re going to react, and  I don’t want you to get mad at me, so…”

“So you’re choosing not to tell me?” she frowned. She hated when people did that; after all, if they gave her a head up beforehand, she’d save herself the unpleasures of being surprised.

“No, no. I just- well I just wasn’t sure how to tell you. It’s kinda… it’s to do with a certain someone.”   Oh.

Oh.

While Luna didn’t choose to avoid having Matteo as a topic of conversation, she purposefully didn’t bring him up, so, neither did Nina. Until now, apparently.

The fiasco at his apartment had been left unspoken after her plans with the Roller started to pan out. Partly because she didn’t have enough free time to do dwell on it, and partly because she still cringed whenever she reminded herself of what had happened with him. She’d still kept up with him through Delfi’s offhanded comments on their ‘lessons’, and – embarrassingly enough- through a couple magazines there and there. Not that she believed anything they’d written about him; she highly doubted he’d brought three lions to exhibit at a party in his apartment.

Point was, even if she didn’t particularly have the lady balls to talk to him again and call a truce, she still cared enough to make sure he was somewhat okay.

“Matteo isn’t Voldemort, Nina, you can say his name out loud and nothing will happen.” Nina gave her a sheepish smile.

“I know, but since we haven’t talked about him in a while I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a problem.”

“Well, it isn’t, so you can say whatever you have to.” Luna urged her, sipping her drink once more, her curiosity getting the best of her.

“So, you know how I said I’d asked Eric to be my date for the wedding?”

“Yeah, but then you said his grandma broke her hip, or something, and he cancelled on you.” She frowned, “did you ask Matteo to be your date?” Luna didn’t try to hide her surprise. Had her best friend reached out to him? Became close friends and didn’t tell her?

“No! No, no, no! I would never do that to you! I asked Gastón. You know, his best friend? We’ve talked from time to time and since I didn’t want to stay glued to Yam’s cousin more than necessary, I asked him if he could come. He said yes.”

Now she was confused. “Okay… is Matteo coming? Or why were you worried I’d react badly?”

“You’re not mad?” Nina asked timidly, as if she’d explode on her for this.

“No! Why would I? Matteo and I’s disaster is that – ours-, you can be friends with his best friend and invite him wherever, N. To get mad at you for having friends would be ridiculous; just like you thinking I’d get mad at you for this.”  

“Better safe than sorry, no?” Luna shook her head, letting out a small chuckle. Nina spoke again, “and the answer is no.” At her confused expression, she clarified, “he’s not coming. At least, I don’t think he is, neither Yam or Ramiro are in his circle, and you know Yam would tell you if she had invited him.”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Their conversation was cut as Yam, her mom, and Jim entered the room once again. The bride significantly happier, and her companions a lot more relieved.

The moment Yam’s words left her lips, she was glad she was on her third mojito.

“Who’s up for a round of ‘Pin The Macho on the Man’?!”

♥

               Welcome to a whole new JaJazmin! I’m your host, the beautiful, incredible, gorgeous, amazing… Jazmín Carbajal-Gorjesi! Thank you, yes, thanks, I know all of you love me but let’s save some love for our guest tonight, alright?  She’s beauty, she’s grace, she could break your face in roller skating! Please welcome Olympic Medalist, and the star of your favorite sports movie, SHATTERED WINGS, the one, the only, the best of the bestest: SOL BENSON!-  

-          Thank you! What a lovely welcome, Jazmín, thank you for having me again.

-           

You’re very wel-… I mean, it’s an honor to have you back. But tell me, please, how’s retired life treating you?

                                It’s been pretty calm, really, which I think is what retirement is all about (*chuckles*), and like I’ve said, I never meant to leave the skating rink permanently, I’m just not competing anymore. I’ve achieved everything I’ve ever wanted, and I’m happy with how everything ended.

                  The days following your statement must have been crazy, weren’t they?

Yeah, a little. I never talked about my plans, or early retirement, so it’s partly my fault for dropping this on my fans so suddenly, whom I apologize to for hurting them with the news. They’ve been there for me in every step of the way, and I hope they continue with me for what’s to come.

               We’ll talk about that in a minute, but I have to ask - and I hope you don’t mind-, your name wasn’t the only one that resounded when the news hit.

Mmhmm.

               Correct me if I’m wrong but many people… concluded your decision wasn’t at all about you reaching your dreams and being done with competing. They assumed your rumored boyfriend – Matteo Balsano, for those who don’t know-, had asked you to quit for one reason or another.

Crazy, isn’t it? I worked, sweated and bled on my dreams for over a decade… you’d think that hard work would get more recognition without a rumored fling butting in.

               I’m sorry.

Don’t be. I want to make it clear though, that Matteo and I were never anything but friends. He’s a great guy, one of the best I’ve ever met, but we were nothing except platonic.

               There you have it folks: Soltteo were a no. What a shame for every of us who were rooting for you two…

(*chuckles*) Sorry to disappoint. But hey, at least a lucky girl can still get his heart.

               Think you can hook them up with him?

Uh…

(*laughs*) I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Moving on, though, what’s next for Sol Benson? Got any plans yet?

Well-

 ♥

“What are you watching?” His best friend flopped down on the bed next to him, grimacing as soon as he saw what was on the screen of his TV. “Again? This is what, the millionth time?”

“The re-run was on.” Matteo shrugged it off, dismissing its importance.  

“And you decided to watch it just because? You gotta stop this masochism, dude. It’s been three months, if you miss her so much-”

“It’s not like that, and you know it.” He didn’t miss her exactly.  After all, he didn’t have the chance to get to know her enough to do so. It was more of him occasionally wishing he had the guts to pick up his phone and apologize again until things weren’t… weird between them. Luna running away from him had left him with a permanent needle pinching his heart, and he was sure it wouldn’t leave until they resolved their… issue.

“Do you know that, though? ‘Cause honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had her words memorized by now.” Matteo turned the TV off, just as Luna initiated a round of quick questions with Jazmín, shaking his head at his best friend, whom had taken the liberty to spread out on his bed.

“Sorry to disappoint.” He huffed.

Gastón let out a sigh, as if he was tired of his denial. Which, in all fairness, so was he. “Are you in one of your weird moods? These short answers are kind of annoying, I want to talk to my best friend and feel like he’s actually here.”

“I’m sorry, my mind is just all over the place.” He offered him a smile, hoping Gastón could hear the sincerity in his voice. Matteo wasn’t giving him an attitude on purpose, he knew he was worried about him.  “And before you even ask, no, this isn’t about Luna. Delfi called me; my label wants to hear the songs I have so far. I guess I’m just nervous.”

“Why? I’ve heard some of them there and there, it’s sounding great, dude. I would even dare to say it’s your best so far. If anything, they should be nervous, they won’t know what hit them.”  

“Thanks, bro. But you know it’s different this time. A lot more… personal.” Out of all his albums, this one had to be the rawest. He wasn’t holding anything out this time, he wasn’t telling half-truths or hypothetic scenarios; whatever he was feeling, he wrote. He poured every single emotion into them. And it left him exposed, his heart naked to anyone who were listening.

He wasn’t playing it safe, dismissing the formula that had gave him a name in the industry. Now, his true self was on the spotlight, and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit it scared him.

“I’m telling you, they’d be crazy to reject them. I’ll pay for them to get checked by a doctor if they as little as insinuate it’s not the best thing they’ve heard in all their careers.” He had to laugh at this.

“Now I know it’s your bias talking.”

“Hey, I might be your best friend, but I’m not deaf, and I happen to have an excellent ear and taste for music.”

“Says the ABBA fan.”

Gastón gasped dramatically, sitting up quickly as he took his right hand to his heart. “How dare you! They’re amazing, and happen to have great, iconic songs! Here I am, bolstering you, like the great friend I am, and you dare to insult me and the greatest Swedish band of all time. Shame. On. You.”

Matteo threw him an amused look in return. “Well, consider me thankful. Anyways, did you want to tell me something?”

“What do you mean?”

Matteo arched his brows, as if it weren’t obvious. “You mean to tell me you just came into my room to ask me what I was watching on TV?”

“Uh, yeah?” When he gave him an ‘I don’t believe you for a second’ look, Gastón shrugged sheepishly. “Okay so I might have some news.” Matteo motioned for him to continue, “you know Ramiro Ponce and Yam Sánchez, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well they’re getting married this weekend, and Nina invited me as her plus one. Her supposed date cancelled on her and since the groomsman that’s supposed to walk the isle with her freaks her out, she asked me to cover for him, so he doesn’t attach to her after the ceremony.”

“Dating her now, are you?” He couldn’t help but to tease him, even if he knew they were merely platonic. “So, you’re going out this weekend, cool. I can manage to be alone one evening, you know.”  

“It’s not like that and you know it.” Gastón threw his words back at him. “I’m telling you this in case you want me to rely a message on a certain someone, or something.”

Why was he friends with him again? “Sure. Can you tell the happy couple I say, ‘congratulations on getting contractually bound to each other’ for me?”

Gastón looked surprised at first, but as soon as he finished hearing his answer, he put on a blank face. “Sure. Well, if you want me to rely anything else to anyone else, you know where to find me.”

“Mhmm.” After that, Gastón left his room, huffing what sounded like ‘stubborn idiot’, which he was sure were his words.

Mindlessly, Matteo turned his TV on again, switching from cable to scroll on Netflix as soon as he noticed JaJazmín had ended. He was about to put play on a random movie when his phone rang. The name displayed on the screen took him off guard.

“Hello?”

“What do you think of being my date to a wedding this Saturday?”

[haitilegends]

So true and poignant: the permanence of unrest, predation and oppression ... - Jean Jean Pierre

THE BOSTON GLOBE MAGAZINE

By Régine Théodat

Updated July 7, 2022

I had just finished a work call in 2021 and was thinking about squeezing in a Peloton workout when my phone rang. It was a typically bright, beautiful September afternoon just outside of Port-au-Prince, but I felt a sense of dread. It was my husband, Junior, calling.

“These two guys came out,” he began, his voice sounding small and far away. It took a minute — and lots of questions — for me to realize what he was telling me.

I flew down the stairs, yelling. In my frenzy, I remembered to grab my “go bag” with my passport and cash. These bags — always packed and waiting — had become essential for anyone living around the capital, which in recent months had been overrun with gang violence. I jumped into our mud-covered farm truck and told the driver where to go.

“Junior’s been shot,” I told him.

Having watched violent gangs swiftly take over the capital — especially since the assassination of President Jovenel Moïse last July — I had come to expect something like this would one day happen. With Junior now bleeding by the roadside, I saw our dreams swiftly unraveling; later I would understand this personal misfortune as part of the unraveling of Haiti.

My parents fled Haiti in the mid-1980s to escape violence under the dynastic Duvalier dictatorship, which for almost three decades had robbed and abused the Haitian people. A popular uprising had broken out and would eventually lead to the end of the regime. My mother recalls being at work while pregnant with me, and dropping to the ground at the sound of gunfire.

Our family eventually settled in Cambridge. My parents seldom talked about the beauty and anguish of their experiences in Haiti, but I sensed their loss and felt a deep connection to the country. I didn’t interact much with the Haitian community in the Boston area outside of my extended family; I rarely heard news from Haiti.

That all changed in 2010, when a magnitude-7.0 earthquake killed hundreds of thousands of people and triggered a humanitarian crisis. I was a corporate lawyer at the time, and distraught to see my country become the focus of international attention for its devastation rather than its extraordinary culture. Resolved to help change that, I began doing pro bono work for Haitian clients. That summer, I left my career in Boston and moved to Croix-des-Bouquets, my parents’ hometown, just east of Port-au-Prince.

My family thought I’d lost my mind. Relatives thought someone must have put a hex on me.

But I wanted, in my small way, to contribute to Haiti. I used my legal training to open a human rights clinic, where I conducted research and led trainings on the right to water, housing, education, and voting.

I quickly found that people didn’t want to talk about rights; they wanted jobs. I decided with a colleague to open a restaurant to drive investment and create jobs in our community. I would eventually fall in love with that colleague, a Haitian man named Junior Abellard with a perpetually boyish grin.

As I fell in love with Junior, my love for Haiti deepened. The calls of the street vendors selling scrap metal, boiled eggs, or sweet cream corn ice pops felt familiar from my childhood. I loved Kreyòl — Haitian Creole — and its proverbs, which made people talk in metaphors and riddles that I was learning to crack. I felt I belonged everywhere I ventured, embraced by people I met.

Over time, I found dozens of young Haitian-Americans who, like me, had come to Haiti after the earthquake. We formed an informal professional network, meeting for drinks and chatting on WhatsApp. These friends supported me as my restaurant evolved into a multifaceted business exporting traditional Haitian hot sauces, cooking sauces, iced teas, and cocktails.

Our businesses were thriving. One friend manufactured castor oil; another, cereal. One was an architect; another operated a recycling plant. One ran a call center; one managed a consortium of artisans; another, a leadership foundation. Together, we employed hundreds of people.

For the moment, hope was in the air.

Still, nothing in Haiti came easy.

The first time I went to pay taxes, the official told me I had to bribe someone for my forms to be processed. I had heard of colleagues who paid to facilitate such transactions, but I refused. I didn’t want to succumb to easy “business-as-usual” practices that would make me part of the problem I had moved to Haiti to help solve.

When I tried to import bottles without paying off customs officials, they put on a show of making me wait, until I hired a brokerage firm to import my goods, and presumably offer my bribes. I felt awful, complicit, and ashamed — but tried not to think about it.

Despite the challenges, I felt happy on our farm on the outskirts of the city, tending the lime and mango trees, and organizing our farmers network to supply us with coconuts, mangos, peppers, and ginger. I was witnessing growth in real time, creating jobs, and sharing our rich Haitian culture. I felt I was exactly where I should be.

In 2015, Junior and I got married in a tiny ceremony in the countryside, at a waterfall in the village of Papay. Not only was I building a business in Haiti, I was deepening my roots.

At our peak in 2017 and 2018, our company, MyaBèl, had 18 full-time employees and 65 farmers in our network. But while we were thriving — and the earthquake relief money was flowing across Haiti — my friends and I didn’t fully understand the depth of the government’s corruption and dysfunction. And we did not know that everything was about to turn on its head.

In July 2018, President Moïse announced a nearly 50 percent hike in fuel prices. People took to the streets, looting and blocking roads. Then, reports circulated implicating Moïse and other officials in embezzling and wasting a staggering $2 billion in public funds. This was far beyond the scale of the corruption that had long defined life in Haiti. I began to grasp the magnitude of what had been stolen from Haitians.

As public rage grew, so did political turmoil. Elections were repeatedly delayed, the terms of all members of Parliament and 20 of 30 senators eventually expired, and Moïse began ruling by decree. As mass protests gained momentum, gangs with close ties to political leaders waged a series of massacres in neighborhoods known as bedrocks of opposition to the government. Moïse sabotaged democratic institutions such as the courts and the electoral commission, which could have checked his power and dimmed his party’s reelection prospects.

To my dismay, US officials continued to support him.

Things stopped working. In Croix-des-Bouquets, a local gang called 400 Mawozo (loosely translated, “mawozo” means “hicks” in Haitian Creole) began announcing lockdowns to flex its muscle, causing schools, banks, and hospitals to close. With each new obstacle, we tried to devise workarounds.

Amid a public dispute between Moïse and the head of a private electricity company, extended multiday blackouts became the norm. So we got solar panels.

When lockdowns prevented employees from coming to work, we built housing for our employees to stay onsite. We even erected temporary housing for the construction workers building the apartments.

When a total lockdown prevented us from traveling with our goods to a trade show in the United States, we paid someone to liaise with the gangs and take us to the airport. Junior and I, along with our 7-month-old baby, traveled by motorcycle through barricades of burning tires, carrying suitcases full of hot sauce.

At the time, I thought I was being savvy. In retrospect, it seems delusional. I had vowed not to participate in the system gangs created, but — almost a decade after arriving in Haiti — I had become complicit in its system of corruption.

Then, on July 7, 2021, the president was shot to death at his home.

Around that time, 400 Mawozo took over our quiet residential neighborhood of mango trees, and police began fighting them with armored personnel carriers. My 2-year-old daughter would innocently dance to the rhythm of gunshots outside.

I blamed the government for the collapse of social order. Over the course of his presidency, Moïse had fostered gang leaders to enforce his own power and hobbled institutions, including the police, to bend state agencies to serve his own interests.

His killing made things worse. Moïse’s pick for prime minister, Ariel Henry, was weak, with little popular support. After the assassination, amid a leadership dispute, foreign ambassadors — including those from the United States — helped elevate him to head of state by tweeting a statement of support. And though a new movement of civil society leaders had developed a plan for an interim government to reestablish democracy, international leaders paid little attention.

My husband wanted us to leave. “It’s one thing if you’re kidnapped, but another if you’re gang-raped,” he said. I didn’t want to think about rape. I couldn’t while continuing to live my life.

Almost all of my Haitian-American friends who had invested their money and efforts in the country left. Almost anyone else who could get out, did — and many Haitian businesses collapsed.

At MyaBèl, after our three middle managers all left Haiti, I was doing the jobs of four people. A nonprofit I worked for, which supports economic development, primary schools, and farmers, was forced into hiatus after gangs blocked the road we used to transport fish to farmers markets. Gangs also took over the town of Pernier, where the organization’s project manager lived. She, too, was forced to leave Haiti.

As Croix-des-Bouquets became a locus of violence, people fled and sought refuge in the United States — by land through South America and, later, also by boat.

Many of my friends had become active in a movement aimed at proposing common-sense solutions to better represent Haitians. They worked with civil society groups to create a plan for a two-year transitional government that could reconstruct democratic institutions. But Haitians with power had no intention of giving it up — and US officials’ support for Henry seemed to block any compromise.

On September 23, my husband noticed a vehicle following him — and had no idea why. When he turned onto a side street, two men got out of their car, and aimed their 9mm pistols at him.

For months, Junior had been telling me exactly what he would do in such a scenario. Gangs kidnapped many Haitians by pulling them out of their cars at gunpoint — after which they sometimes tortured, raped, or even killed them, while they extorted their families for ransom. My husband said he would never surrender to be taken; I worried he’d be killed.

When he saw the guns, he slammed his foot on the gas pedal.

As he accelerated, both assailants shot at him. One bullet crashed through the windshield and entered my husband’s right forearm, shattering his ulna, then landing just below his ribcage without piercing his body. Miraculously, the other bullet similarly landed on his chest and exploded before penetrating his skin, as if he were wearing a bulletproof vest.

He kept driving. He managed to continue for several minutes and stopped at a police checkpoint. “I’ve been shot!” he yelled. Gazing at him, the officers did not help.

When I arrived, I found two police officers sitting in their vehicle, ignoring the human being parked beside them with a gunshot wound.

Everything that happened next showed the dysfunction of the state.

The police, afraid to intervene to help my husband, tried to drive away when I appeared, until I ran after them, banging on the window, to get them to stop. I was able to call an ambulance only because I had paid for a private service — the public ambulance service rarely answers the phone or dispatches vehicles.

At Hôpital Bernard Mevs — one of the only trauma centers still open in Haiti at the time after gangs blocked doctors and nurses from reaching other hospitals — my husband’s surgery was repeatedly postponed over five days to prioritize incoming patients with more serious gunshot wounds.

At one point, I saw a vehicle pull up to the emergency room with a police officer lying in the back, bleeding from a bullet to his side. He was screaming in pain. I was overcome by shame as I remembered how I had insisted that officers help my husband. They probably hadn’t been paid in months, and if gang members killed them, the government wasn’t going to take care of their children.

I was angry. I was fed up with leaders like Henry, whose base is in political parties with a stranglehold on power, criminal connections, and no interest in a functional democracy.

I tried to think of ways our family could stay in Haiti. Would our children — our toddler and my three stepsons — be safe? I wanted to believe the police could secure our neighborhood, that we could elect responsible leaders. But I didn’t see that happening. Until the United States stops propping up Henry’s government, I thought, there is no chance of stability in Haiti.

Ten days after the shooting, we got on a plane.

When my parents left Haiti during the brutal Duvalier regime, which maintained power with US support, it was because they worried they could not safely raise a child there. A generation later, I was leaving Haiti with my own daughter, for similar reasons. In between, my friends and I had come to Haiti full of hope, only to watch corrupt and violent leaders — with help from their international enablers — squander so much optimism, investment, and progress.

Today, we live in the Dominican Republic. MyaBèl is on hiatus, but we plan to resume operations soon in northern Haiti, which has been safer. I feel glad for this opportunity to continue our mission. Mostly, however, I feel robbed — as does my family. I want the United States and the international community to stop supporting the current government and sabotaging Haiti’s chances of developing a working democracy.

I have real hope that the entire country can become livable again. There is so much Haiti could provide to its people.

Despite our enormous love for Haiti, despite all we struggled to build, despite the ways we were willing and able to work around the country’s dysfunction, I don’t know if our family can ever live there again.

Régine Théodat is a Haitian- American attorney and strategist and the co-owner of MyaBél, a Haitian food and beverage company.

Send comments to magazine@globe.com.

[orbemnews]

A Push to Move the Golf Course Atop a Native American ‘Stonehenge’ NEWARK, Ohio — The third hole here at the Moundbuilders Country Club is a tricky par 4: The green is protected by a six-foot-high mound that almost completely encircles the hole and requires a deft chip shot to clear if your approach shot goes awry. “It’s a blind shot,” said Randol Mitchell, the club’s head golf professional, after driving his ball a good chunk of the hole’s 435 yards. “You have to watch out for those mounds.” The topography of the course is built around the mounds, which were prescribed by the cosmology of the Native Americans who created them approximately 2,000 years ago as a way to measure the movement of the sun and the moon through the heavens. But now the club, which has leased the land for more than a century, is being asked to relocate so that the mounds can be properly embraced as an archaeological treasure, a move club members understand — they have preserved the mounds for generations — but one that they say will be difficult for them to undertake unless representatives of the state kick up the ante for the cost of creating a new golf venue. The $1.7 million amount the state’s representatives have proposed under eminent domain is up from an initial offer of $800,000. But the club wants $12 million. The dispute heads to the Ohio Supreme Court on Tuesday. The historical import of the site is clear. The U.S. Department of the Interior has already selected the land for nomination as a UNESCO World Heritage site, as part of a larger proposed bid to recognize some of the similar sites in Ohio, known as the Hopewell Ceremonial Earthworks. Many of the golfers say they embrace that importance, too, even if they have indelicately nicknamed one eight-foot mound “Big Chief.” The club has a scrapbook that tracks the history of the earthworks, known as the Octagon Earthworks, back to their creation. The clubhouse features a painting and photographs of the mounds. Golfers are barred from driving carts over them except on paved paths. Still, if one were to encounter a ball perched atop the ancient earthworks, there is no ban on whacking at it with a 3-iron. “On many golf courses, water, woods and sand create natural challenges,” David Kratoville, the president of the club’s board of trustees, said. “Here, it’s the mounds.” There were once hundreds of major earthworks built by people of the Hopewell culture, which refers to the moundbuilding groups of Native Americans who lived in North America from about 100 B.C.E. to 500 C.E. But their value wasn’t recognized until recent years, and many were destroyed. Created one basketful of earth at a time, using pointed sticks and clamshell hoes, the mounds at the golf course are part of the broader Newark Earthworks and widely embraced as an astronomical and geometric marvel. Once every 18.6 years, if you stand atop the course’s observatory mound and look up the line of parallel mounds toward the octagonal area, something spectacular happens. When the rising moon reaches its northernmost position, it hovers above the octagon’s exact center, within one-half of a degree. The alignments are no less sophisticated than the arranged stones at Stonehenge, experts say. Members of the Hopewell culture likely intended the earthworks, which can only be fully appreciated from above, to show their moon and sun gods that they understood their movements, said Ray Hively, a professor emeritus of astronomy and physics at Earlham College in Richmond, Ind. The effort might have been an attempt to connect with or communicate with the powers which appeared to control the larger universe, said Hively, who discovered these alignments with a philosophy professor, Robert Horn, in the 1980s. In 1892, Licking County and the City of Newark, about 40 miles east of Columbus, allowed the state to use the land as an encampment for the Ohio National Guard. But after the camp closed, they reclaimed it and leased it to the club in 1910. A noted golf architect, Thomas Bendelow, who designed America’s first 18-hole public golf course, Van Cortlandt Park, in the Bronx, laid out a course that by 1911 had turned the ancient moon markers into errant shot adversaries. “The ancient Moundbuilders unwittingly left behind the setting for as strange and sporty a golf course as ever felt the blow of a niblick,” an article about the course in the January 1930 issue of Golf Illustrated proclaimed. The course itself, with a slope rating of 119, is medium difficult, though no one would ever confuse it for Jack Nicklaus’s Muirfield Village Golf Club (slope 130), which sit 40 miles to the west. Mitchell said the mounds are a more formidable obstacle than they at first appear. “It’s hard to shoot what you normally shoot here,” he said. “Even though, on paper, it shouldn’t be that hard.” Efforts to fully recognize the significance of the mounds as more than unusual golf hazards date back roughly two decades to a period when a bid to build a new clubhouse, whose foundation would have dug into the mounds, was denied. At that point, a group led by local professors and Native Americans organized a protest campaign — and some residents began questioning whether the course should exist at all. Then, as now, the club’s unwillingness to make way for worldwide recognition of the site drew criticism. “We wouldn’t want a country club on the Acropolis,” John N. Low, a citizen of the Pokagon Band of Potawatomi Indians and the director of the Newark Earthworks Center, said in a recent interview. “We don’t want a country club on the Octagon.” Club members have long argued that the criticism is unfair, that the holdup is caused by an unwillingness to respect that the club has some history too, and that it could not continue to exist at the amounts being offered to give up its lease. “Everyone would love to portray us as rich fat cats,” Ralph Burpee, the club’s former general manager, told The New York Times in 2005. “Well, this is Newark, Ohio, which pretty much precludes rich fat cats.” Kratoville described the club’s roughly 300 current members as belonging to “a blue-collar country club.” “Our members are people like plumbers,” he said, “and they come out for a day and clean up sand traps and plant flowers.” The owner of the property today is the Ohio History Connection, a statewide nonprofit organization that contracts with the state to oversee more than 50 historic sites. The nonprofit has leased the property to the club since acquiring it in 1933 and hosts four open houses at the club each year, which before the pandemic included guided tours of the mounds. The property is also open to the public on Mondays or when the weather is unsuitable for golf. The rest of the year, visitors must view the mounds from an elevated platform near the parking area. The History Connection would like to convert the site into a public park and submit it for recognition as a World Heritage site, as a place of “outstanding value to humanity,” alongside others, like the Taj Mahal and the Grand Canyon. “We feel an obligation on behalf of Ohio taxpayers to responsibly protect and interpret the site’s historic value,” Burt Logan, the History Connection’s executive director and chief executive, said. “And we hope we’ll finally be able to do that soon.” But without full public access to the site, federal officials have said a World Heritage nomination would be impossible. The Moundbuilders’ lease runs through 2078. And though Kratoville said the club was willing to move, the History Connection and the club were millions of dollars apart. In 2018, the History Connection took the club to court in a bid to acquire the lease via eminent domain. Two lower courts have ruled in the History Connection’s favor, and now it is up to the Ohio Supreme Court to consider whether the nonprofit has the right to buy out the remainder of the lease. The History Connection, formerly known as the Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Society, last used eminent domain about a century ago to acquire several acres of earthworks 100 miles south of the Octagon site. The country club is arguing that the History Connection did not negotiate in “good faith,” which is required before a taking under eminent domain, and that the public purpose being served — an expanded program of research, education services and preservation — could be accomplished without ending the lease of a major employer. Zachary J. Murry, an Ohio lawyer who specializes in eminent domain cases, said the court may be unwilling to take on the role of deciding which of the competing public purposes is better because policy determinations are typically made by other branches of government. But if the court did assume that role, one question would be, he said, whether operating as a public park and the prospect of becoming a world-recognized wonder was a sufficient rationale to warrant the taking now, when the recognition has not yet been granted. “This ‘conditional’ necessity seems problematic,” he said. If the club does move, Kratoville said he was unsure whether the Moundbuilders County Club would keep its name. But it would certainly not try to recreate the mounds, he said. “You can’t do that,” he said. “It would be a different course.” The Supreme Court is only tasked with deciding the eminent domain issue. If the History Connection is found to have the right to take over the lease, compensation would be hashed out at a later date in a lower court — an amount Murry said would ultimately likely fall somewhere between the two appraisals. Glenna Wallace, the first female chief of the Eastern Shawnee Tribe of Oklahoma, who considers the moundbuilders her ancestors, said the dispute goes beyond monetary value. World Heritage recognition for the earthworks — and full public access — would play a crucial role in reframing the way visitors think about Native Americans, she said. “The sophistication required to create this shows my ancestors weren’t savages,” she said. “This needs to be open to people every single day of the week, every single day of the year.” Source link Orbem News #American #atop #golf #move #native #Push #Stonehenge

[historichollywoodphotographs]

“Meet Me at the Brown Derby”

The Brown Derby was a chain of famous Los Angeles restaurants founded by three entrepreneurial Hollywood transplants - Wilson Mizner, an acerbic wit, man-about-town, playwright turned developer from New York and Boca Raton, with a long checkered past; Herbert K. Somborn, film producer/distributor and husband of Gloria Swanson; and their silent partner financier, movie mogul Jack Warner. Despite its notoriety for wealth and glamour, the three were less than impressed with Hollywood’s food and restaurant scene. They were determined to fill the void and create a social epicenter that served “good hardy staples like Dunstan’s in NY” and a first-class establishment where “actors of lofty eminence could dine in relative privacy”. Legends of how the restaurant got its name vary, much like playing a game of telephone, but it’s said that Somborn believed, “You could open a restaurant in an alley and call it anything, even something as ridiculous as the Brown Derby, if the food and service were good, the patrons would just come flocking” or Mizner might’ve mused, "If you know anything about food, you can sell it out of a hat”.

They opened original Brown Derby restaurant at 3427 Wilshire Boulevard in 1926, a prime location Somborn had recently purchased, just across the street from the Cocoanut Grove at the Ambassador Hotel. Whimsical architecture was fashionable at the time, and its distinctive 'derby hat' shaped design readily caught the eye of passing motorists.

The first restaurant was such a success that in 1929, Somborn agreed to opened a second location, The Brown Derby Hollywood, at 1628 N. Vine Street, just south of Hollywood Blvd and the Walk of Fame. It was designed by architect Carl Jules Weyl, a former art director for Warner Brothers, in a distinctive Spanish Colonial Revival style that was popular for commercial establishments in Hollywood’s central core. Though its exterior was perhaps not as sensational as the first locale, the Brown Derby Hollywood was considerably larger and with its proximity to nearby radio, TV, and movie studios, it quickly became the place to schmooze, strike deals, and be seen. 

Columnists Louella Parsons and Hedda Hopper were regularly on hand to gather gossip and report on the celebrities in the room, such as Ronald Reagan, Cesar Romero, Dorothy Lamour, Betty Grable, Shirley Temple, Glenn Ford, George and Gracie Allen. Legend has it that Clark Gable proposed to Carole Lombard there. Many civic and community leaders, such as Charles Toberman and his wife Josephine, could also be seen dining on a regular basis. A lion even celebrated his third birthday to much fanfare at the Derby! The anecdotes are endless. The Derby had its own public relations firm, led by Louella Parsons’ cousin Margaret Ettinger, who saw to it that there was a perpetual presence of autograph seekers out front at all times. A select group of professional photographers were given access inside to snap shots of the illustrious clientele. Most didn’t mind as it was an accepted part of the territory; the publicity machine being advantageous for both studios and stars alike.

Like many venues in Hollywood, the Brown Derby often played its own starring role in film and television. Most memorably, in L.A. at Last, the first of the I Love Lucy Hollywood episodes, Lucy, Ethel, and Fred go for lunch at the Brown Derby. During one of their typical misadventures, the trio finds themselves in a booth next to actors Eve Arden and William Holden. Lucy tries to surreptitiously sneak peeks of Holden over the back of the booth, attracts lots of attention while struggling to eat long strands of spaghetti, and then everything famously goes awry when Lucy inadvertently causes the waiter to hit Holden in the face with a pie.

One of the unique features of the Hollywood Brown Derby was that most of the booths had telephones, so busy executives could make or receive calls while dining off the lot. This successful ploy brought in a lot of business and contributed to the already theatrical atmosphere. The celebrity caricatures that covered the walls, most of which were drawn by Jack Lane and Eddie Vitch, were another feature unique to the Derby. It was also the birthplace of the Cobb Salad, which was said to have been hastily assembled from leftovers by Robert “Bob” Cobb, a combination steward, cashier and occasional cook, who later became owner of both the Wilshire and Hollywood restaurants, after Somborn's death in 1934. Another signature dish of note - the Turkey Derby, served on their Pumpernickel bread that was apparently "to die for".

Capitalizing on the chain’s success, a third Brown Derby was built in 1931 at 9537 Wilshire Blvd in Beverly Hills. In 1940, the fourth Brown Derby opened at 4500 Los Feliz Avenue, the only one to have both a fine dining restaurant and a 'drive in' at the same location.

By 1975, the Wilshire location had lost its popularity. It closed and the building was demolished, except for a portion of the original 'derby hat'. The Beverly Hills location closed in 1982 and was demolished the following year. The Los Feliz Brown Derby closed in the early 1990s, though other restaurants and clubs continued to utilize the building in the years since. The Hollywood Brown Derby remained open until 1985. The building was badly damaged by fire in 1987 and it was demolished in 1994.  

Thankfully, its legend lives on through all the colorful stories, films, and photographs that have been recorded and preserved. Our particular archive contains over 150 images, of all four Derby locations, spanning six decades, available for your viewing pleasure at hollywoodphotographs.com.

- Christy McAvoy and Carly Caryn, Historic Hollywood Photographs

Sources: Bruce Torrence archives; Out With The Stars by Jim Heimann

[painterlegendx]

What You Know About Classical Painting Classes And What You Don't Know About Classical Painting Classes - Classical Painting Classes

It is adamantine to anticipate of addition artisan who was added admired than John Baldessari, who died Thursday at 88. Although he was not a domiciliary name, he was badly affecting as a professor, and helped authorize Los Angeles as the country’s ascendant art-school capital. A tall, affable man with furry white bristles and a biblical beard, Baldessari was attainable to recognize. His champions like to say that he was “much more” than a teacher, but the account offends, with its absolute advancement that teaching is a banal following compared with the majesty of authoritative art.

Mandy Boursicot Atelier – Classical Art Classes Vancouver - classical painting classes | classical painting classes The accuracy is that Baldessari not alone admired teaching but fabricated it the axial affair of his art. As a architect of conceptual art and assistant at the California Institute of the Arts (or CalArts), amid added places, he seemed at already amorous of art history but active to the banana applesauce of accepting his acceptance strive to bout the amplitude of the past. His beheld appearance derives from a bend of activity that we never alike knew had a appearance — i.e., the classroom. Abounding of his compositions affection photographs or argument adopted from disparate sources, and accept the lucid, direct attending of educational materials, abnormally beam cards and posters inscribed with advantageous advice in sans-serif, jumbo-size type.Baldessari’s best-known assignment — a lithograph, from 1971, blue-blooded “I Will Not Make Any Added Boring Art” — takes its afflatus from the doubtful antecedent of grade-school punishments. The appellation sentence, jotted in neatly askance cursive, is again 17 times, bushing the folio from top to bottom. It is absolutely amusing: a sly advance on conceptual art, calumniating the movement’s didactic, text-heavy creations alike as it doubles as a absolute archetype of one.Note to alum students: Can addition amuse amount out whether this allotment afflicted the arena in “The Shining,” in which a writer’s much-awaited arrangement is appear to abide of annihilation but one book (“All assignment and no comedy makes Jack a addled boy”) again ad infinitum?

Classical Painting Workshop - Painting Classes Los Angeles | CourseHorse - Kline Academy of Fine Art - classical painting classes | classical painting classes Evocations of bookish abortion recur in Baldessari’s work, conceivably boilerplate added humorously than in the five-foot-tall painting blue-blooded “Wrong” (1966-68). It juxtaposes a down-covered black-and-white photograph of Baldessari continuing in advanced of a angular approach with a explanation that says, in its cogent entirety, “WRONG.” The artisan conceived the piece, he explained, afterwards account in a how-to photography book that you should never affectation a accountable in advanced of a tree, because the timberline will attending like it is growing anon from your subject’s head. “Wrong” can feel like a accolade to the endless adolescent artists and freethinkers who accept had their breakable egos ashamed by addition who shouted “wrong” aback they were right.Baldessari’s assignment descends anon from that of Marcel Duchamp, the French-born Dadaist who fabricated art feel like a annex of philosophy. Duchamp, of course, advantaged art that offered affirmation of account rather than craft, of able cerebration rather than abstruse facility. In 1963, aback Baldessari was still active in burghal National City, Calif., teaching art at a bounded academy and spending his Sundays aqueous out paintings in the big-brush appearance of the Abstract Expressionists, he had a adventitious to see an important Duchamp attendant at the Pasadena Art Museum. It was a revelation. By the end of the decade, he had put bottomward his brushes. He was axis out text-laden paintings whose beheading he outsourced to able assurance painters.Unlike Duchamp, whose assignment can be difficult and arcane, Baldessari is a conceptualist with a accepted touch. Or rather a accepted non-touch. His assignment is accessible, discreet and occasionally glib, and it has accepted acid to some of his added apparently absorbed contemporaries. In 1969, in the article “Art Afterwards Philosophy,” Joseph Kosuth, a adolescent addict of text-based art, derided Baldessari’s artworks as so abounding conceptual “cartoons” that are “not absolutely accordant to this discussion.”

The New School of Classical Painting Daylesford - classical painting classes | classical painting classes But again Baldessari was never an artist’s artisan so abundant as a alum student’s artist. His artlessness and advanced blasphemy fabricated him awfully accepted as a teacher, and his acceptability soared aback he accustomed at CalArts, a no-grades-no-requirements school, area he beneath to advise painting and instead called his course, rather provocatively, “Post-Studio Art.” The association was that the atelier was a affair of the accomplished and students, instead of ambitious to Promethean artistic heights, could be added abreast as recyclers of begin photographs and added appointed material.Among his abounding memorable acceptance who larboard California and agitated his access to New York are David Salle, James Welling, Barbara Bloom and Edward Henderson. Asked about his teacher’s style, Mr. Henderson recalled, in a adherent tone, “Whatever he said meant 20 things.” Abounding of his acceptance kept up with him afterwards they larboard school, and he affably answered their buzz calls and mail. Mr. Henderson pulled out an old postcard from Baldessari, about 1983. On the advanced side, it shows an unironically beautiful arena at the Cincinnati Zoo: four white tiger cubs at play.On the cast side, in the amplitude aloof for messages, Baldessari wrote a distinct sentence: “O.K., O.K., What were my aftermost words to you?”

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[ariluxuryhomes-blog]

Ask Me Anything: 10 Answers to Your Questions About New York architects

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[lincolnhandyman-blog]

Comfort Renovation Contractor Cleaning Services and Cost Waverly Nebraska | Lincoln Handyman Services

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Looking for Renovation Contractor Cleaning Services in WAVERLY NEBRASKA? LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES offers reliable and trusted local Renovation Contractor Cleaning Services to help you keep your rental space successful and clean. Creative Construction & Remodeling provides professional Renovation Contractor and Renovation Contractor services in LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES. Cost of Renovation Contractor services WAVERLY NEBRASKA?

Call us Today.

 RENOVATION CONTRACTOR SERVICES WAVERLY NEBRASKA  

We love renovations at LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES. It's a beautiful thing to see someone's home get a new life, and know that it will house happy generations to come.

At LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES we work with a highly skilled team who respects your home and your time. We do it all, from full house renovation to paint jobs. We will answer all of your questions, there is no question too small or silly. We will work with our clients until they are 100% satisfied. We love the challenge and enjoy working with clients to get them the house they have been dreaming about for years.

 At LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES

Whether you want to make a small modification or carry out a full refurbishment job, at LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES we offer a range of renovation services to bring your property to life. Working with some of the most talented commercial builders in the industry, our comprehensive building refurbishment service covers every single aspect of the build, including:

·         Short and long-term general property maintenance

·         Heating and plumbing

·         Roofing

·         Carpeting and flooring

·         Interior design and decorating

·         Kitchen and bathroom renovations

Our process

Consultation

At the initial consultation will take the time to understand all of your requirements, as well as your expectations. We will provide you with a fully comprehensive quote at this stage, so there are no hidden costs further down the line.

 Planning

Once all parties have agreed upon the end result, we will thoroughly plan out each stage of the project with our experienced project manager and ensure that all deliverables and deadlines can be met by our professional workforce.

 Delivery

Our project manager will allocate all of the necessary resources to complete your project on time and on budget. With our experienced team members, you can rest assured that our work will only be completed to the highest standards.

We Are One Of The Top Home Remodeling General Contractors In WAVERLY NEBRASKA   . Our Porto folio Speaks Of Our Work...

Making the decision to renovate your home is always a smart choice but also a tough financial decision. And whatever the decision that incites you to renovate your home could be, our team of experienced designers and architects and general contractors can surely provide you with best advice on how to go about achieving a successful home renovation project while remaining within your dedicated budget.

Based on LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES has been known WAVERLY NEBRASKA   for offering quality-driven construction, remodeling and renovation services. Our licensed, certified and hardworking experienced contractors each with a specialty such; kitchen, bathroom, basement, interior or exterior renovation – are all dedicated to completing a home renovation project on schedule, within your budget and always with a focus on quality.

We provide several contracting services in the WAVERLY NEBRASKA    including:

·         Complete Home Renovation

·         Bathroom Renovation

·         Kitchen Renovation

·         Interior & Exterior Renovation

·         Framing & crown molding

·         Finished basements

How does our renovation / remodeling process work?

After identifying the type of renovation you'd like to make to your property, our professional sales team will contact you to set up our initial consultation –

which will review several individual elements including:

·         The nature of home renovation project to be completed

·         Discussing your budget, time constraints and other details

·         Develop a strategy to get the job done safely, professionally and within your budget

·         Laying down specific and honest cost estimates

 LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES is a well-respected name in the residential construction industry.  The formula to our success is our relentless attention to detail, our exceptional customer service and our devotion to quality.  We emphasize open communication with our clients throughout our custom projects and our homes feature the finest craftsmanship and materials in the market.  We guarantee our clients’ complete satisfaction with their custom build or renovation experience.  

New Construction

Our new homes are custom designed and tailored to our clients’ specifications and budget.  We source properties directly in our community, and often work with prospective customers well in advance of securing a site to develop.  We also engage with clients who have already purchased a property or are redeveloping their existing home.  Our proven process encompasses all phases of the custom build process beginning with initial concepts and continuing through to the final finishing touches.  As seasoned experts in residential home development, we have the experience and resources necessary to address the diverse styles and expectations of our client base. 

Renovations

As with our custom new construction, our proven process is applied to our smaller scale additions, renovations and home improvement projects. We offer the same quality, attention to detail and customer service whether our clients are renovating a bathroom, installing a new kitchen or adding a two story addition to an existing home. Our process is scalable and our service is consistent.

Design

Whether the scope is basic built in sketches, a new kitchen or a full set of construction plans, the design phase is the essential first step in any successful development project.  Our team draws from decades of experience in all aspects of home renovation and construction.  Many of our clients are committed to a longer term custom build project with our firm, but we also work with homeowners and their architects who are developing ideas for their project – whether it is a two story addition, a new home or a kitchen/bath remodel.  We help our clients define their scope to match their vision with their budget.

Home Management

Our client relationships do not end with us handing over the keys to their newly completed home.  We recongize the value of the relationships that our entire team forms with our clients throughout the construction process.  Our Home Management division was created to offer our resources on a subscription basis to former customers as well as general community residents.

Land Acquisition

We are local property developers interested in purchasing a home in the community. If you are considering selling your home, we can offer you fair market value (without contingencies) and a flexible closing date to accommodate your transition.

HOW MUCH DOES IT COST TO RENOVATE A HOUSE AT WAVERLY NEBRASKA  

The cost of building or renovating a home... This is probably one of the first questions most clients ask us when they call or email the first time, and this is probably why you are here in this section of our website. But should pricing be your main concern? Do you want your biggest investment (your home build or renovation) to be completed for the cheapest price? Or, should you ask instead: "What value (quality, service and experience) am I getting for the cost?"

As a client, we want the full service experience from a contractor. Clients want excellent workmanship, skilled management, to be priority, reliability from all crew, on schedule, meeting deadlines, warranty etc. I think it is safe to say that the cheapest price will not include most of these items on a project.

Average Cost of a Renovation Contractor

This Remodeling Costs Guide, updated for 2019, will help you research accurate pricing for the most popular home renovation and construction projects. On average, doing a complete house renovation costs $40,000-60,000. However, most homeowners choose to tackle one room or project at a time. This saves money and makes the process less overwhelming.For example, Renovation a whole house that's fewer than 1,000 square feet costs an average of $18,347, while a 3,000- to 4,000-square foot home costs an average of $36,121.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS: RENOVATION CONTRACTOR WAVERLY NEBRASKA  

How much do renovations cost per square foot?

Main floor renovation on average - starting from $140 to $180 per square foot. Interior renovation - starting from $150 to $180 per square foot. Complete home renovation inside and out - starting from $200 to $230 per square foot. (doesn't include tear down of the old home).

How much does the average renovation cost?

This Remodeling Costs Guide, updated for 2019, will help you research accurate pricing for the most popular home renovation and construction projects. On average, doing a complete house renovation costs $40,000-60,000. However, most homeowners choose to tackle one room or project at a time.

How do you budget for renovations?

Typically, you can expect to spend at least $100 to $200 per square foot on any renovation. When you're deciding on your home renovation budget, it can be easier, and more affordable, to prioritize projects by room and build a budget around the cost of each individual project.

How much did your renovation cost?

Bathroom renovations can cost anywhere from $10,000 to $35,000, depending on the size of your bathroom and the materials you intend to use. Simple renovations using budget materials and fittings can usually be kept under $15,000, whereas high end renovations will cost more than $25,000.

 EXCELLENT RENOVATION CONTRACTOR SERVICES NEAR WAVERLY NEBRASKA  

LINCOLN HANDYMAN SERVICES

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 SERVICES:

·         Handyman Services

·         Painting

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·         House Renovation

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·         Cleaning Services Indoor or Outdoor

·         Concrete / Masonry

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Lincoln Nebraska Metro Area: Bennet NE, Firth NE, Hallam NE, Hickman NE, Lancaster County, Lincoln Nebraska, Malcolm NE, Milford NE, Panama NE, Seward County, Seward NE, Staplehurst NE, Utica NE, Walton NE, WAVERLY NE, Lincoln NE | Omaha NE | Lancaster County NE | Seward County NE | Milford NE | 68501, 68510, 68512, 68514, 68516, 68517, 68520, 68524, 68526, 68529, 68531, 68532, 68542, 68544, 68583, 68588.

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Rock On! 10 Woodstock-Area Homes for the Festival’s 50th Anniversary

realtor.com

For four brief days 50 years ago, a 600-acre dairy farm in Bethel, NY, was transformed into a Zeitgeist-defining gathering known as the Woodstock festival. Those muddy, raucous, brown acid-fueled days have been dissected endlessly over the five decades since.

The town of Woodstock (about 60 miles from Bethel) has been a haven for artists since the early 1900s. By the 1960s, it had become the home of many musicians, including Bob Dylan, making the Hudson Valley a convenient spot for a festival.

Festival organizers originally planned for it to be held in Walkill, NY, but found an alternative venue after having trouble persuading residents of the small, rural town to welcome 400,000 hippies. They soon made a deal to hold the event on the dairy farm in Bethel owned by Max Yasgur, who was willing to give his land over for a few days in the name of peace, love, and music.

Today, we have documentaries, recordings, and photos to remember the festival that defined an era. This year, there was a feeble attempt to organize a 50th anniversary event, but the idea was ultimately scrapped.

So instead of hippie nostalgia, we’re focusing on today. If you’d like to buy a home in an area touched by rock history, we’ve rounded up 10 homes for sale in both Woodstock and Bethel. Just make sure to bring your own granola.

122 Boggs Hill Ext, Woodstock, NY 

Price: $549,000

Cedar and seclusion: This remote, private getaway was recently renovated by Cary Cook, a well-known architect and artist in Woodstock. The result is a cozy, modern home that blends seamlessly with the surrounding woods. Built in 1984, this rustic residence has three bedrooms and sits on nearly 3 pristine acres close to the Catskills and Hudson Valley.

Boggs Hill Extension, Woodstock, NY

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14 Juniper Ln, Woodstock, NY

Price: $625,000

Byrdcliffe Cottage: This three-bedroom home is a prime example of a 1920s Woodstock artist’s cottage and was once owned by a well-known local ceramicist. Aspects of the home, including the vaulted ceiling, were built with trees harvested from the wooded, 2.5-acre lot. There’s a separate one-bedroom, one-bath apartment with a small kitchen, deck, and garage built by the Woodstock architect Les Walker. The grounds also feature extensive bluestone patios and a circular driveway.

Byrdcliffe Cottage, Woodstock, NY

realtor.com

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7 Schoonmaker Ln, Woodstock NY 

Price: $649,000

Work/live in Woodstock: This half-acre property is located just outside Woodstock’s town center. Extensive renovations to the two-bedroom home have been completed by the current owners. The main, Cape-style house was built in 1921, and a second building is zoned for a professional office with seven dedicated parking spaces and a separate address, for a sweet work-life setup.

Schoonmaker Lane, Woodstock, NY

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2626 Glasco Turnpike, Woodstock, NY

Price: $1,250,000

Brookside Home: This home was built in 1900 as part of the original Byrdcliffe Arts Colony. Today, it’s one of the few homes in the community that is privately owned. A recent modern-industrial renovation gave the four-bedroom home a luxurious new life. There are hand-plastered walls, vaulted ceilings, custom windows and doors, designer lighting, stone floors in the kitchen, and floor-to-ceiling glass doors to bring the outside in. The park-like half-acre lot includes a heated, large bluestone patio, saltwater pool, and screened-in porch.

Glasco Turnpike., Woodstock, NY

realtor.com

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201 Ohayo Mountain Rd, Woodstock, NY 

Price: $595,000

Maverick Original: This home was built by one of the original members of the Maverick Art Colony in 1934 and has been owned by a well-known Woodstock artist ever since. The three-bedroom home is being sold as is and includes wood floors, a fireplace in the living room, and a screened breezeway that leads to a painter’s studio filled with natural light. The more than 4-acre lot also includes a second, larger artist’s studio and garage with a studio and bathroom built above it.

Ohayo Mountain Road, Woodstock, NY

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118 Fairweather Road Trail, Bethel, NY

Price: $549,000

Golden Pond: Built in 1990, this five-bedroom home sits on more than 12 wooded acres that include a private pond. The home is just minutes from the original Woodstock Festival site, which is now commemorated by the Bethel Woods Performing Arts Center. The roomy 2,500-square-foot home also has a finished basement, so there’s plenty of room for family and friends to visit.

Fairweather Rd. Trail, Bethel, NY

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132 Deer Meadow Rd, Bethel, NY

Price: $1,200,000

Black Lake Estate: This sprawling country estate includes more than 18 acres, after three secluded parcels in Black Lake Estates were combined for privacy. The five-bedroom home was built in 2003 and includes a striking atrium entry with a glass wall overlooking the property’s lake. There are slate floors, lake-view balconies, and plenty of spaces for outdoor entertaining.

Deer Meadow Rd., Bethel, NY

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1923 State Highway 17B, Bethel, NY

Price: $119,900

Future festival?: This over 20-acre lot is just around the corner from the site of the original Woodstock Festival and is zoned for both residential and commercial purposes. Today, the land is open fields, covered with wildflowers in spring and summer, and could be the beginning of something special for an enterprising concert promoter looking to recreate music magic. It’s also ideal for building a dream house close to town.

State Highway 17B, Bethel, NY

realtor.com

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20 Sunset, Bethel, NY

Price: $599,000

Chapin Estate: This lovely three-bedroom was built in 2003 and includes a 5-acre lot in the gated Chapin Estate. Inside, the home is open, with high ceilings, and includes a stone fireplace and loft with an extra sleeping area for guests.

20 Sunset, Bethel, NY

realtor.com

The post Rock On! 10 Woodstock-Area Homes for the Festival’s 50th Anniversary appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

from https://www.realtor.com/news/trends/woodstock-area-homes/