Sunday, March 29, 2015
The idea that the work done by my office for various companies in the building industry would involve the constant development of full size prototypes, each attempting to solve one or another aspect of the general problem. The result, if one were successful, could be a building research center whose collection of buildings might be extraordinarily interesting, and the whole thing might take on international importance.
— George Nelson, Letter to Paepcke dated July 23, 1952
Saturday, March 28, 2015
As many of you know, Container Corporation of America makes a product which, in its essence, is totally common – a paperboard package. Each of us uses, touches, and needs this product virtually every day of our lives. Yet, unless we see it as garbage or litter, we are seldom aware of it. Even though our lifestyle depends so heavily on the conveniences made possible by the paperboard package, it seems to have no reality. Or rather, its reality is entirely subsumed in the products which it transports, protects and displays. In that sense, the paperboard package – the entire production of this billion dollar company, is not real. Of itself, it has no reality. However, looked at with a mirror that reflects it and the world around it, the paperboard package becomes part of an abstraction, and in that abstraction, is found the ultimate reality.
— John Massey, “Abstractions on Candles, Mirrors and Reality,” speech given in Aspen in 1977
Friday, March 27, 2015
The condensed milk, which they spread like jelly on saltines.
— Darcey Steinke reading from Sister Golden Hair
Thursday, March 26, 2015
You can hear human breathing in the cockpit up until the moment of impact.
— New York Times
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
I can write an imitation of a Michael Dickman poem in five minutes.
— Michael Dickman
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Does the world need another font? Of course not.
— “Writ Small,” Smithsonian Magazine
Monday, March 23, 2015
Phone.
— MK
Sunday, March 22, 2015
I thought it might interest you, as a ski enthusiast and lover of beautiful things (cf. Joella).
— Walter Paepcke, Letter to Herbert Bayer, May 22, 1945.
Saturday, March 21, 2015
Come out, your friends are here!
— Sheila to Sleepy (cat)
Friday, March 20, 2015
When a bottle of bubbly is not festive enough, the Champagne Sabre will certainly get the party started. Aim towards where the vertical seam of the bottle meets the top lip, and strike away from the base. The pressure inside the bottle automatically ensures a clean, shards cut. Made of stainless steel.
— Item Tag, “NEW, Champagne Sabre, Karim Rashid, 2013,″ MOMA Store
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Sandy!
— Christopher, “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time”
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
Bayer, despite his frequent melancholy, was the one artist who caused Paepcke no discomfort in the shared company of businessmen.
— James Sloan Allen, The Romance of Commerce and Culture
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
One thing I don’t need is furniture. I live alone in an 8 room house.
— Old woman at Skillman Furniture
Monday, March 16, 2015
A book of this nature inevitably contains misspellings, incorrections and discrepancies.
— Herbert Bayer, World Geo-Graphic Atlas
Sunday, March 15, 2015
I like the message that you are conveying with this series of pictures. We should devour books like we devour our food. With salt and Tabasco sauce.
— Kathleen
Saturday, March 14, 2015
project for exhibition pavilion at an industrial fair 1924. toothpaste for sale inside.
— Herbert Bayer, herbert bayer: painter, designer, architect
Friday, March 13, 2015
How do they keep that clean? If I were a bird I’d shit that place up!
— Lily
Thursday, March 12, 2015
Just as a visiting player is about to shoot a free throw, two students pull apart two big black curtains to reveal a new five-second act in a continuing theater of the absurd.
— Justin Wolfers, “How Arizona State Reinvented Free-Throw Distraction,” The New York Times
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
I love that you say you have empathy for caviar.
— Nathan Carter
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
What’s the ambition?
— Joe Scanlan
