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fleckcmscott · 1 year

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Glad and Golden Hours

Summary: Two months after Arkham, Christmas Eve is on its way. Y/N and Arthur prepare to host their nearest, dearest friends.

Words: 4,466

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: This comes from a request made by @sweet-nothings04. Thank you for the opportunity to add to the Stepping Stones series and get to know Robert a little more - in many ways, he’s still a stranger to me! 😂 Hope you all enjoy! Have a wonderful holiday season! ⛄

Arthur snipped each layer of twine, and the pine's branches lowered in a curtsy of festive green.

They'd gotten a Christmas tree later than usual this season, a mere two days before the holiday. (Mike from New Hampshire apologized for his tree stand's slim pickings. Arthur found the last six and a half footer tucked under a tarp.) With Y/N's return to full-time hours at the office and the burst of gigs that'd come his way, they'd barely had time to breathe. The work was welcome, especially the charity events at the mall and clinic. Waypoints on a map that led to routine.

It'd also taken a lot out of him. Too little tiredness had morphed into too much. His body was still processing the medication switch from Arkham, and starting last Thursday, he'd lowered the dose of his anti-depressant to 20mg, a change suggested by Dr. Ludlow to help with fatigue.

It was a marvel, the difference having a partner made in recovery, how it helped three steps forward remain three steps. (The days it slipped back to two he mostly kept to himself.) He and Y/N had even made love twice this month, including the Saturday afternoon he'd woken her from a nap. A kiss to her bare shoulder and he'd fallen into her. Satisfyingly simple - and initiated by him.

Branches freed, he turned to see her standing before their console stereo, stretching to tape red and gold garland to the wall. Most of their ornaments had come with her from Missouri, but this decoration was theirs. The shiny foil had caught his eye from across the pharmacy aisle, gone into their shopping basket without delay. Started the tradition of adding a bauble to their collection every year.

When she made a disgruntled groan, lifted her right foot to reach a smidge higher, he chuckled. "Let me do that," he said, crossing to her. He taped it a good four inches above her fingertips. The garland dipped in the middle, an approving smile anchored by cascades of color on each end.

"Thank you." She moved to kneel on the stereo, grabbed a big red bow from her left. She hooked it on the smile. "Remind me to start the Swiss steaks in the morning. They have to cook ten hours."

A loose hold on her waist, more of a protective hovering lest she lose her balance. "I think that's the only recipe I've seen in your handwriting."

"I copied it out of a magazine in a doctor's office and served it every Christmas back home. Mabel always took the smallest piece. But the kids liked it and it wasn't half bad. Made it easy to keep an eye on my father, too." That she could mention her past without a hitch in her voice, that she'd share the dish him, turned Arthur's hovering into a caress. She patted his hand. "If you agree with Mabel, you won't go hungry. We'll be lucky to close the fridge, with all Patricia's going to bring."

Ah, yes. Patricia and Robert.

Arthur had gotten close enough to Patricia to hide her paltry smoking from Y/N, to be entrusted with secret tidbits about his wife. But Robert remained an enigma. The man had attended their wedding, like any friend should. Joined blue moon double dates concocted by their better halves. He was quiet, stayed on the periphery.

Patricia also knew the details of Arthur's relapse; Robert barely cracked a grin at his jokes.

Other than when Y/N's family had visited (one bathroom for eight people; bah humbug, indeed), Arthur and she had celebrated by themselves. Truth be told, he would've preferred it stay that way. They'd barely had an anniversary. For his sake, she'd declined her sister's invitation to Thanksgiving. Though it'd worked out in the end, his damned moods had botched Black Friday shopping.

She hadn't minded any of it, she said. He believed her. But he also loved her. There was no reason to let her in on every negative thought, every doubt. When she'd asked about having friends over, her smile had dazzled at the idea. How could he have declined? With everything she'd done for him? He'd hung onto her happiness, a dog finally catching the car it'd been chasing, and said yes.

Now that car just had to be small enough to handle.

"You still up to hosting?" she asked, peeking at him over her shoulder.

He prayed for a moped instead of a tank. "Yeah."

That irresistible smile came again. She slid backwards off the console, clipping his toes with her heel. She'd just begun to lean into him, when she squinted and sped in the direction of the front door. "Shit, I forgot the poinsettias. I'll run to Ed's. Please get out the lights!"

~~~~~

Thickened liquid shot the mercury to 160 degrees. "Quick, quick, put the pot on the trivet."

Y/N followed Patricia's command. Without the older woman at her side, Y/N wouldn't have trusted herself to make anything involving a cooking thermometer. Black sludge had resulted from her one attempt at chocolate fudge. Scraping it into the trash, she'd forsworn any recipes involving that tool forever.

Two teaspoons of vanilla extract met furious whisking. When Patricia cracked open a bottle of whiskey, Y/N covered the pot with her forearm. Steam dampened the sleeve of her sweater. "Can we add that later?"

"Arthur still not drinking?"

"Besides a sip of my wine every now and then, no."

"He's smarter than all of us combined." Patricia picked up the pot, poured the mixture through a mesh strainer into an awaiting ceramic bowl.

Y/N hugged her at the waist. Patricia had taken a keen interest in Arthur's recovery. Made a point to ask how he was at least once a week, how everything compared to before. It was a first for Y/N, having stepping stones of support to climb. Patricia being her wonderful self was a gift. And she'd been a dear to suggest putting together an old-fashioned Christmas for Arthur, to offer to do the heavy lifting and give them both a break.

Over dinner, she'd updated them on the latest at Shaw & Associates. Her new colleague, the third since Y/N had left, was a total bore. Never wanted to order lunch, completely lacked a sarcasm detector. The Wayne Foundation was looking to start another charity arm, this one for the arts. It followed a trend of donations focused less on the poor and needy, more on galas and museums for the rich and needless. After nearly a decade of chasing, Matt had finally won back his ex-wife Laura. All victory had taken was a river cruise and a prenup.

Arthur had tapped his fork on his plate, his face a mask of bewilderment. "Why marry someone already planning to divorce?"

The Swiss steaks had turned out well enough for Robert to ask for leftovers. He could handle sticking them in the microwave and wanted to give Patricia a well-deserved break. It was flattering, them choosing Y/N's cooking for Christmas Dinner. Patricia's duchess potatoes - her daughter Ruby's favorite - were a buttery take on spuds Y/N could eat every day. And Patricia had prepared a small tray of mac and cheese for Arthur to heat up in the oven, replete with 3" x 5" instruction card and tied with a bow.

Just then, the bathroom door creaked open. Y/N peered into the living room. A hand the size of a catcher's mitt and holding a beer gestured frantically for Arthur to get his butt on the couch. Robert chastised him like an old uncle, groused that he'd missed a touchdown, updated him on the score. Arthur hiked up his trousers. Settled next to him and leaned forward, elbows on his thighs. She bit back a chuckle. Football interested Arthur about as much as hardening cement, and even then, the cement might win out.

When the teams on TV huddled on the sidelines, she came to the rescue. She strode to the back of the couch and bent between them. The seven minutes left on the clock were a godsend. "Miracle on 34th Street is on NCB, and Robert Shaw Chorale's Christmas Spirit is on PBS. Take your pick."

"Robert Shaw," Arthur said.

Robert stood, stretched his arms behind his back. His shoulders snapped, crackled, and popped. "Doesn't matter to me. The Wildcats are gonna blow it either way." He pulled a pack of Silk Cuts from his front pocket and went to the fire escape to light up.

Arthur's brow furrowed into a mountain range. "He's not very friendly. I don't know if he wants to be here. He could watch the game at home."

While Robert was the strong silent type, Y/N sensed a softness hiding underneath. He'd agreed to go to marriage counseling with Patricia. He always ensured she walked on the inside of the sidewalk, a protective gesture from an earlier era. Tonight, he'd rubbed his stomach after each bite of potatoes, a compliment to Patricia's kitchen wizardry.

Y/N offered a gentle reply. "This is their first Christmas without their daughter and grandson." Ruby had married the Gotham General tech she'd met six years ago, and she and Brian were spending the holiday weekend with his family upstate. "You know how when I have a bad day, and I just want to forget it? When we kiss or sit without saying anything? That's enough. Sometimes having a friend sit with you is enough."

Arthur's boyish dimples reappeared. "I won't be kissing him anytime soon."

"Good. That'd send him running back to Burnside."

Later, she served eggnog: three with a shot of whiskey, one virgin. An angelic choir drifted from the television, familiar and comforting as crocheted mittens. Popcorn bowl at her side, Patricia sat on the living room carpet and invited Arthur to join her. She pulled a coin purse from her pocket, took out two big needles connected by a long, black thread. She demonstrated how to slide a fluffy flake down the string.

"I love the smell of pine," Patricia said, five kernels in. "This year we got an artificial. It just isn't the same."

"There's canned pine scent," Y/N suggested. "Donahue's has it by the artificial snow."

"From Aurora Fresheners? We tried that. The whole apartment smelled like a bathroom. When I was a kid, it was real or nothing. My mother hated the needles. One Christmas, when I was six, I asked Santa for a sled. I dragged it over to Cherry Hill - that's down by the water district - and slid right through a fence into the reservoir. They sent mom a bill for repairs. She made me clean up all the needles. With a broom."

Laughter threw Y/N's head back. Although her family hadn't been religious, they'd gone to the usual seasonal social gatherings. Being in the Bible Belt, they'd revolved around the local church. "One Christmas service, a candle caught a lock of my hair. It smelled terrible, like burning rubber. Mabel and I gagged our way to the bathroom."

There were other recollections, of course, ones she kept locked in the keepsake box of her heart. Her earliest holiday season in Gotham had marked seven months in a new state in a new city in a new home. Though only three people worked in her new office, her new boss Matt had planned a Secret Santa. That she'd gotten an Aqua Velva soap on a rope (a discount store bestseller) had made it obvious who'd drawn her name.

For the first time, she'd experienced a truly frigid chill, one that'd frozen her bones. Admired Christmas windows grander than she'd ever seen. Rented ice skates at Gotham Park and exchanged smiles with Ned, a cute man in flannel and jeans who'd complimented her form. The hot chocolate they'd shared at the concession stand had been surprisingly rich. But she'd resisted Ned's suggestions to make a snowman, to surrender her last name and phone number. The evening had ended with thanks and well wishes.

New to herself, she hadn't wanted to play the game of pursuit. Not yet. She'd cherished the quiet of her own place, a hard-won light at the end of twenty years of tunnel. When she'd sat at the counter of a nearby diner on Christmas Eve, sliced turkey roll and canned cranberry sauce before her, a wave of joy had overwhelmed, to the point where she'd had to dab at her eyes.

"Thanks for this," she'd whispered to what was probably nothing. The closest thing to a pray she'd offered in her life.

Arthur's mouth tightened in concentration, popcorn stuck on the eye of the needle. "At school we made paper chains. I brought mine home and taped it on the TV. My mom and I watched the Murray Franklin Christmas Special."

"They had a dance floor for the audience in the sixties," Patricia said. "We got tickets once, really lucked out. Bing Crosby was there, Slam Bradly, too. Remember that, dear?" She directed her inquiry at the sofa.

Robert twisted to look at them over the cushions. "We did a pretty good Lindy hop back then."

"You and Y/N should go next year!"

The flake Arthur had been wrangling broke into crumbles.

Y/N's regard shot to him. There was a tremble in his fingers so subtle only she would notice. Since his spot as a Special Guest, Murray Franklin hadn't been welcome in their homes. Before they'd moved in together or after. Whenever the TV Guide happened to feature his smug mug on the cover, Arthur tore it clean from the spine. He'd flick cigarettes towards bus stop ads for Live! If he was in the mood for late night comedy, he'd catch David Endochrine with her.

"I don't think so," Arthur said. He fingered another kernel to try again. But after a moment, he laid the needle and thread in the bowl, pushed himself to stand. "I, um-" His voice had gone thick, inflected with the raw quality of the wounded. He winced. A whisper this time. "Excuse me." He walked to the bedroom. The door thudded softly behind him.

No one moved a muscle. Breath couldn't be heard. A peaceful rendition of "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" began, notes wrapping them in glorious sounds of old.

Patricia straightened, interrupted the peaceful rendition. "That was stupid."

Y/N scooted two spaces across the carpet, placed a comforting palm on Patricia's knee. "He just needs breaks, that's all."

Last week they'd attended her office's Christmas party. He'd done his best to fit in, make small talk, be a person like other people. And he'd been good at it, seemed like a combination of his old and new self, both selves she'd fallen in love with. But after forty minutes, without a hint that something was wrong, he'd asked if it'd be too soon to leave. She'd planned on staying two hours. As they'd held hands on the subway home, she'd mulled over what she'd observed, tried to understand.

She shared that with Patricia. "He'd probably had enough of everyone asking how he was. They'd known he'd been ill but not the details. Arthur likes attention - he needs it more than most people I've met. But I don't think he knew how to answer without saying he'd been in Arkham. It's hard to predict how someone'll react to that."

"I don't blame him," Robert said, his rich baritone kinder than she'd ever heard it. "People can see a broken leg but not when your brain has a limp."

Y/N felt her shoulders loosen, his words an etching of reassurance. "Only dear friends," she said. She moved to check on Arthur, see if he'd been granted some of the peace on earth, impart the goodwill mentioned in the song.

Patricia stopped her with a palm to her shoulder, braced herself against the wall to stand. "I'll go." She straightened the hem of her blouse, grabbed strands of tinsel from the middle branches, and made a beeline for the door.

~~~~~

Arthur sat on his side of the bed, facing the vanity. He disliked the set of his features, dour and stern, as if carved from rough granite. The low light of the bedside lamp bathed but didn't soften. He opened his mouth, practiced loosening his jaw, stretched it until the hinge joint popped.

That Patricia hadn't meant to hurt was obvious, even to a guy with a lot of problems like him. How was she to know Murray had been a father figure? A man he'd loved who'd pierced him so deeply, that that love had bled out and left hatred in its wake? He'd been too silly, too inexperienced to recognize the differences between celluloid and real life. To have thoroughly set himself up for disappointment was almost as embarrassing as the way it continued to sting. Nearly a decade had passed. Time to let it fucking go.

The flash of a police car prompted him to look out the window. Clouds had rolled in, and sparse streaks of moonlight fought their way through the batted cotton. White lights sparkled from an apartment across the street, the tree a perfect display in the front window. Two little girls jumped around their father, relenting only when he doled out gifts from under the tree. Arthur hugged his pillow to his stomach like a life vest.

There was more to the paper chain memory. Visitors from a Catholic charity had gone door to door that evening. Arthur had polished off a bowl of Rice Honeys for dinner, been in the middle of rinsing his dish when the buzzer sounded.

The two nuns towered over him, a couple of emperor penguins. "Are you home alone, young man?" the older one had asked, as if it was weird for a little boy to answer the door.

Uninvited, they'd stepped into the entranceway. Surveyed the walls of the apartment, the open and empty cupboards, the rug that was dirty because they only had a carpet sweeper. They had to have noticed his filthy t-shirt. The lack of tree. Penny passed out cold, her motionless form in the living room chair. At that tender age, it'd felt normal.

The penguins offered two gifts, wrapped in paper covered by shepards and nativities, along with a mimeographed invitation to the candlelight service at St. Swithun's Parish. "Bless you, sweet boy," the younger one had said. Then they'd left, drifting down the corridor like ghosts of Christmas past.

Arthur had scribbled "From: Arthur" on his mother's present. A white lie that'd make her happy, so god wouldn't mind. He'd put the presents on the coffee table. Bounced his stuffed bear and watched Red Skelton, waiting for his mother to come round.

A light knock at the door. The knocker didn't wait for a response to squeak the hinges. Brass trumpets spilled into the room. "I have a real talent for putting my foot in my mouth."

Patricia's self-deprecation forced a crooked grin. He watched her approach in the mirror, loosened his hold on the pillow. He pushed it aside as discretely as possible.

"I hear so much about how you're doing from Y/N," she said. "But never from the source."

"I'm fine."

The woman had a way about her. Warmth oozed out of her like a radiator on a blizzardy night, which allowed her to make the bluntest comments and never offend. A strange sort of equation that never failed to balance. She sat next to him and continued the tradition. "The news talks about Arkham being a place for criminals. It's not reported as a hospital for regular people; it's gossiped about. I'm glad to know better now. And that you're doing well."

If they were close enough for her to share secrets, maybe he could trust her with one of his own. But he couldn't quite return her stare. "Some days are hard. More than I'd like. More than- than I tell Y/N."

"She's the type of woman who wants to know all the facts and figures. That doesn't mean you have to tell her everything."

He bit down another grin. It was too true. And he wouldn't. She didn't need to learn about the nights in the hospital, when he could've sworn he'd felt her arms around him, her breast beneath his cheek, while also wishing she'd stay the hell away from McKean Island. That the years with her were when he'd learned what healthy felt like. That what he coveted more than anything, to the point of cold sweats, was to get back to that. For her. For their marriage. For himself.

Patricia broke through his reverie. "Is today a nice day?"

"Yeah." He turned to look at her, nodded, met her ebony eyes. "It is. But you didn't have to go to so much trouble. With the food and decorations."

Tipsy but honest kindness shone in the curve of her smile. Suddenly, she tossed tinsel on his head, a pile of silver atop his chestnut mop. Frowning, he reached to drag it off, tangling it in his waves. She grasped his fingers on the way down and squeezed tight. "You and Y/N are family, Arthur. You're family."

It took a while to find his voice. "Thanks, Patricia."

In the middle of "Away in a Manger," the television switched off. Stevie Wonder's Someday at Christmas played in its stead. The B-Side, which Y/N found upbeat. It wasn't exactly Arthur's style, but he'd come to appreciate her preference for disco and soul. And it was a welcome change from choral melancholy.

Patricia slurped at her mug, stuck it out towards him. "I need a cigarette. As a trusted family member, would you bring this to the kitchen? Take her with you. I'll owe you all the tea in China."

~~~~~

Y/N tied the shopping bag handles and opened the refrigerator. She'd packed the main and sides separately, otherwise gravy would've ruined the potatoes' crispy finish. As she arranged three Tupperware containers on the top shelf, Arthur came in, Patricia's mug in hand. He rinsed it and took the ladle from the bowl for a refill.

He indicated Y/N's cup on the counter with a tilt of the head. "You want some, too?"

"Please." She closed the fridge's door, gave it an extra push for good measure. "Patricia's quite the charmer, isn't she?"

Arthur snorted, drew his back chin, its skin squishing into pinchable folds. The cheery sound was a breeze that freshened the whole apartment. His gaze fell to the floor before rising to meet hers. He held out her drink. "She's not the only one."

When Y/N took it, her fingers lingered on his for too long to be an accident. She brought the rim to her lips for a sip. She'd add a nip later.

"You're doing great," she said. "I'm proud of you."

His smile blinded, a flash of light to outdo Damascus. The gap between them narrowed, foot by foot, inch by inch. He plucked a bloom from the poinsettia on the counter, tucked it behind her ear. The gesture made her insides ripple in the same manner as a girl's first crush.

"Do you love me?" he asked. The love light gleam in his green irises told her he hadn't asked because he didn't believe it, but because he wanted to hear it.

She stretched the rest of the way to meet his lips and spoke her answer against them. "Completely. Now let's go see what Santa brought."

Multicolor lights glimmered on the pile of presents under the tree. The four of them sat around it, Y/N and Arthur on the floor, Patricia and Robert on two dining chairs due to his aching tailbone. Y/N's cheeks felt as if they were going to melt, the result of alcohol and menopause. She unbuttoned the top of her sweater and held her cold mug to her skin, just below her neck.

Robert hummed approval when he unwrapped the bottle of Ballentine's Scotch, aged ten years. (Thank god they'd gone shopping for their husbands together.) Patricia immediately plugged in the True to Light makeup mirror from L. Ballinger's. She tested the office, day, and evening settings, explained the subtle differences. ("Black eyeliner works better at night.")

The Gormans' gift to Y/N was a clothes shaver from the Windmill Signature collection, a practical, odd tool to remove fuzz and pills from her blazers and skirts. She burst into silly laughter. What else did the "collection" carry? An automatic foot scraper? Premiere upper lip waxing kits? At least it wasn't a soap on a rope. She flicked it on, ran it over Patricia's polyester skirt until she batted her away.

On top of the mac and cheese, Arthur got a Christmas tie deemed cheesy enough for him. Polar bears skated on cursive Merry Christmases on a background of red and white stripes. "I'll put this in my bag," he said, and folded it into thirds. "For December gigs."

The remaining presents would have to wait until tomorrow. A private gift exchange better suited both couples. Arthur had dropped no hints as to what he'd gotten her; she'd shown respect by not snooping. She was certain he'd love the microwavable mug warmer, guaranteed to keep his coffee hot during long journaling sessions. The other box under the tree hid mounds of tissue paper and a bathrobe, midnight blue tinted royal, to be tied at the waist. She giggled, imagining how he'd pluck her folded note from the breast pocket, the blush that'd betray when he got to the naughty part.

Leaning back on her forearms, she sighed a contented sigh. A happiness to rival turkey roll and cranberry sauce swept through her, wetting her eyes all over again. She turned towards the window, gnawed her bottom lip.

White flecks glowed in the orange of the phosphorescent streetlamp, brightening the sky. She recalled that first Christmas in the city, the memories Patricia and Arthur had shared. The holiday wouldn't be complete without making another.

"There's an unplowed parking lot three buildings down," Y/N said, standing. She darted to the coat hooks in the entranceway, snagged their hats and mittens, returned and shoved them at Patricia and Robert. "We can build a snowman." The quirk of Patricia's mouth said she thought Y/N was out of her mind, but she'd play along. She rose to her feet, pulling Robert - mid-trying to open his scotch - along with her.

Arthur burrowed deeper into his bathrobe, a playful skepticism narrowing his gaze. "It's supposed to be ten below tonight."

"We'll bring a thermos. Besides." Y/N sat on his lap, put his cap on his head, and fluffed the pom-pom on top. "Your love will keep me warm."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes @fleckficgirl

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x female reader #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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plungermusic · 2 years

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“Jam, jam, jam, jam… Lovely jam! Wonderful jam!”

“What’ve you got?”

“Well, there’s blues and jam; rock, blues and jam; rock, jam, blues, psychedelia and jam; blues, jam, rock, jam, southern soul, jam and jam…”

There’s a growing tendency on the scene to try to shoehorn the term ‘jam’ in where it doesn’t fit, but Peach Jam the latest release from Mike Ross, builds on his previous work (both with his own band and on the freeform extemporising on RHR’s Hotel Toledo) and his lifelong love of the Allman Brothers to actually deliver on the promise, providing his bona fides as a rare UK candidate for proper “jamband” status.

The Americana and southern flavours of The Clovis Limit Pt.1/ Pt.2 inform both Grace - a Brothers and Sisters backwoods front-porch instrumental vamp on Amazing Grace with warm resonator and acoustic plus some limpid golden slide lead (and Little Martha-like ornamentations), and the restrained cover of Free’s Don’t Say You Love Me where dreamy tremolo-laden Nektar-ish guitar and impassioned vox evoke a stripped-back Gregg-on-‘Ludes soulful ballad, blossoming via a multi-vox chorus with aching sustain guitar into a gently swinging close (that promises a potential live wig-out, here faded…) While the New Orleans street-corner acoustic rag tribute to Mike’s late father, Derek & Me, continues the solo bluesman spirit of his Tennessee Transition collection.

The heart and soul though of Peach Jam are the two instrumentals that make up more than two thirds of the album, both drawing heavily on the improvisational spirit of Stateside jamband acts like Warren Haynes, Tedeschi Trucks, and most notably the Allman Brothers (as indicated by the titles!) Galadrielle (named for Duane’s daughter) opens as spacey southern, melodic reverie: sublime twin harmony snatches, aching soaring lead lines and exquisite bittersweet slide proving emotion counts for more than frenzy; an echt LAFE breakdown (noodling bass, birdcall lead, and swirling organ) leads into a chugging closing-bars-of-Blackhearted-Woman passage, including very Duaneish (in both phrasing and heft) slide licks, then via a further psychedelic phased, back-tracked synth-infused maelstrom reprising the original theme before a final burst of rocking coda.

Peach Jam itself is the heir to the traditions of LAFE’s You Don’t Love Me or the Ludlow Garage Mountain Jam: over fourteen minutes of kaleidoscopically changing timings, moods and styles. An upbeat jazz-infused 5/4 with lovely two-guitar lead switches neatly from major to minor and back with stinging acerbic lead over Rob Millis’ undulating organ; Derek Randall’s liquid bass run heralds a rattling four-to-the-floor revamp of the theme with a searing solo this time from the ‘second’ guitar. A very ABB complex tutti riff, a tiny JaBuMa spot for Darren Lee’s lithe cymbal-rich drumming and Rob’s turn in the limelight, return us to the 5/4 swing and its sweet guitar interplay. After a burst of louche barroom boogie a false finale heralds a spacey cicada-backed transition to loose-but-brisk Les Brers-style cantering, complete with grin-inducing solo, more ABB modal rising-and-falling hooks, and scintillating Leavell-like electric piano work from US jamband stalwart Matt Dutot Slocum. Another false end and a quick tumble through an FX-laden vortex brings us full circle for a bar of the original 5/4 finishing with A Day In The Life backtracked dead-stop. A fantastically varied but cohesive masterpiece with superb playing from all involved, especially Mike’s dual guitar attack which is nicely differentiated between the voicings, particularly his evocation of the fierce clarity and phrasing of Duane’s playing (… if the title of ‘King’ is already taken then might Plunger suggest ‘Grand Galactic Emperor Of Slide Guitar’?)

Given his influences and track record of musical invention and curiosity Mike was always likely to be one of the few UK artists who could (or would) produce an album of this nature and quality, and he’s done it in spades. Peach Jam serves up lashings of the fabled musical comestible that is frequently bruited about elsewhere but when push comes to shove it turns out “the cat’s eaten it.”

Peach Jam is released on Taller Records on 26th July - available for streaming etc. on the usual online suspects, and (for yer actual physical objects including clear 12” vinyl only in a limited run of 150 pieces - a 'super deluxe’ package including extensive bonus items such as key rings, signed backstage passes and more) from here: https://shop.mikerossmusic.co.uk

#mike ross #mike ross music #mike ross band #taller mike #taller records #peach jam #jamband #jam band #jam

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nightclub01 · 2 years

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Hottest Nightclubs and Lounges in NYC

We’ve officially entered the roaring ‘20s of the twenty-first century, meaning there’s no better time to party like Gatsby and no better place to do so than New York City. We have rounded up the best of the best clubs in NYC and lounges for a night out on the town in Manhattan or Brooklyn.

Paul’s Casablanca

Paul Sevigny’s sceney Soho model and celebrity hotspot Paul’s Casablanca has reopened post COVID. If you can make it past the bouncers (tip - dress to impress!) your night is guaranteed to be as fun as the doorman is discerning. Enter the nondescript building on Spring Street and you will be transported into a Morrocan garden-themed cocktail lounge complete with a s

himmering disco ball, plush banquettes with mosaic tile backsplashes and bartenders wearing traditional North African clothing. The spot has been a go-to for fashion week afterparties and often hosts A-list DJs like Mark Ronson and Q-Tip.

Teksupport

Fans of techno music should head to Brooklyn, where international promoter Rob Toma is creating a bridge between the European club scene and New York City nightlife. With a background working with clubs like Sankey’s in Ibiza, Toma has successfully put on a Brooklyn warehouse series in July called BACK. Teksupport has some of the biggest names in house and techno performing, including Ame b2b Dixon, Chloe Caillat, Guy Gerber, the Martinez brothers and more. Ibiza’s CircoLoco will return to NYC for Halloween, with more European clubbing brands to follow suit.

The DL

The DL is a Lower East Side clubbing hotspot spanning three floors, each with its own unique energy and style. Guests can enjoy dinner at Dinner on Ludlow on the first floor before the room, lit by massive chandeliers dripping in crystals, turns into a lounge area perfect for mingling and refueling with drinks from the bar. Head to the Red Room on the second floor for a sultry dance floor experience with a DJ playing the best new hits. When you need a breather from dancing and singing your heart out, head to the South Beach-inspired rooftop with 360-degree views of the LES skyline.

Somewhere Nowhere

Newly-opened nightclub Somewhere Nowhere is a secret garden-inspired oasis complete with a two-level indoor lounge and an open air rooftop pool venue located at the top of the Renaissance NY Chelsea Hotel. Guests are ushered into a fairytale-esque lounge through a passageway leading to whimsical custom art pieces of gnomes and fireflies in the style of glorified lawn ornaments as well as neon signs and lantern sconces that set a glowy mood. The penthouse’s outdoor lounge boasts the tallest hotel rooftop with a pool and a 360-degree view of the Manhattan skyline, all against the backdrop of live music from world-renowned DJs.

The Brooklyn Mirage

The Brooklyn Mirage at Avant Gardner is open for the summer, hosting a number of noteworthy events and DJs with performances by Zedd and deadmau5 already under their belt in early July. The legendary 6,000-person indoor-outdoor events space is famous for its jam-packed dance music event calendar and stunning light displays.

Hotel Chantelle

If you’re planning a night out on the Lower East Side, be sure to check out Hotel Chantelle, right across the street from The DL. The three-story nightclub and restaurant has a younger crowd and features a Parisian-inspired rooftop garden that is perfect for dancing and mingling. The best part is you can relive Saturday night by coming back to the rooftop for Sunday brunch complete with live music and bottomless drinks.

Public Arts

Located within Ian Schrager’s PUBLIC Hotel is Public Arts, a nightclub with events ranging from art exhibitions to live music and late-night dancing. Head to the rooftop to enjoy jaw-dropping views of the city through floor-to-ceiling windows and an outdoor terrace bar serving delicious cocktails while renowned DJs play.

Jungle Summer at The Garret Cocteleria

Jungle Summer is a new, limited-edition pop-up food and drinks menu at the Garret Cocteleria. Perfect for a fun night out before or instead of bars and the club, the restaurant has transformed into a lush oasis with a floor-to-ceiling tropical plant installation made to emulate a rainforest right here in NYC. Sip summery cocktails with names like “Coconut Knuckleball” or try a tequila-tasting flight while live DJs spin tunes late into the night. Menu highlights include house nachos, dragon fruit and mango ceviche and spicy tuna tartare.

#nightclub

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bm2ab · 6 years

Photo

Castle's Rock - 09 April 2019 Old Wardour Castle Tisbury, Wiltshire, England

Wardour Castle is located at Wardour, on the boundaries of Tisbury and Donhead St Andrew in the English county of Wiltshire, about 15 miles (24 km) west of Salisbury. The castle was built in the 1390s and partially destroyed in 1643 and 1644 during the English Civil War. It is managed by English Heritage who have designated it as a grade I listed building, and is open to the public.

The castle was built on land previously owned by the St Martin family, but when Sir Lawrence de St Martin died in 1385 it was handed over to John, the fifth Baron Lovell for reasons unknown. It was built using locally quarried Tisbury greensand, with William Wynford as the master mason, after Baron Lovell had been granted permission by Richard II in 1392. It was inspired by the hexagonal castles then in fashion in parts of the Continent, particularly in France; but its own six-sided design is unique in Britain, as is its inclusion of several self-contained guest suites.

After the fall of the Lovell family following their support of the Lancastrian cause during the Wars of the Roses, the castle was confiscated in 1461 and passed through several owners until bought by Sir Thomas Arundell of Lanherne in 1544. The Arundells were an ancient and prominent Cornish family, the principal branches of which were seated at the manors of Lanherne, Trerice, Tolverne and Menadarva in Cornwall. The family held several estates in Wiltshire. The castle was confiscated when Sir Thomas — a staunch Roman Catholic — was executed for treason in 1552, but in 1570 was bought back by his son, Sir Matthew Arundell, later a Sheriff and Custos Rotulorum of Dorset. The Arundells, led by Thomas Arundell, 1st Baron Arundell of Wardour, subsequently became known as some of the most active of the Catholic landowners in England at the time of the Reformation; thus they were naturally Royalists in the English Civil War. During that conflict, Thomas Arundell, 2nd Baron Arundell of Wardour, was away from home on the King’s business and had asked his wife, Lady Blanche Arundell, aged 61, to defend the castle with a garrison of 25 trained fighting men. On 2 May 1643 Sir Edward Hungerford, with 1,300 men of the Parliamentarian Army, demanded admittance to search for Royalists. He was refused and laid siege, setting about the walls with guns and mines. After five days the castle was threatened with complete destruction. Lady Arundell agreed to surrender, and the castle was placed under the command of Colonel Edmund Ludlow. Lord Arundell had died of his wounds after the Battle of Stratton, and his son, Henry 3rd Lord Arundell, next laid siege to his own castle, blew up much of it and obliged the Parliamentary garrison to surrender in March 1644.

The family slowly recovered power through the English Commonwealth and the Glorious Revolution, until the eighth Baron, Henry Arundell, borrowed sufficient funds to finance rebuilding. This was done by the prominent Palladian James Paine. Paine built Wardour New Castle, but left the Wardour Old Castle as an ornamental feature. In stylistic terms the New Castle is not a castle at all, but a symmetrical neoclassical country house with a main block built around a central staircase hall and two flanking wings. Paine integrated the ruins of the Old Castle into the surrounding parkland, intending it to be viewed as a romantic ruin.

The castles, old and new, have been featured in several films. The Old Castle appeared in the 1991 Kevin Costner feature Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, and more recently was used as a film location for The Journey to Aresmore released in 2016. The New Castle served as the dance school in Billy Elliot. The cover of Sting's album Ten Summoner's Tales was photographed inside Old Wardour Castle.

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geoworldtravel · 4 years

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We spent today in the #Erfoud area of #Morocco Stop one was #HamarLaghdad also known as the #KesKes (pic 2). This is one of the best known #Devonian sites in #Morocco. There are 40 or more carbonate mounds in a 7km line. They formed on a volcano as hydrothermal mud mounds. They have been exposed by erosion and are seen sitting on their paleosurface. Corals and #trilobites used to be very abundant but have been heavily collected. Pic 4 shows a rolled #Phacops that was found. Pic 5 shows a bryozoan on the left and a coral on the right. After the Kes Kes we visited Erfoud Quarry (pic 5). This #Devonian (Famennian) limestone contains #Orthoceras and the ammonoid #Gonioclymenia, and has been made into table tops, basins and ornaments in the Erfoud "Orthoceras factories" (pic 7). The outcrop is now mostly destroyed with just blocks of stone remaining. After this stop we visited a #Silurian (Pridoli) #Scyphocrinites Limestone horizon. Here the #crinoids are commercially mined in bellpits, pic 9 shows one for sale in an Erfoud Factory. Adjacent to the crinoid bed we saw a Silurian (Ludlow) mined bed of Orthoceras which is also turned into ornaments in the Erfoud factories. Next we visited a nearby #Ordovician site on Erfoud mountain. Here the famous #odontopleurid trilobite, #Selenopeltis buchi, is mined. Pic 10 shows a Selenopeltis for sale in Erfoud. Echinoderms are also found at this site, including this #brittlestar that we found (pic 6). We had our picnic lunch at this site. Finally we visited Erfoud city. Here we visited a Orthoceras Factory (pics 7 - 10) and learnt how these rocks are made into furniture and ornaments. We also visited their shop. The final destination was the Tahiri Museum. Here we saw many scientifically important specimens as well as lesser specimens in their shop. Pic 1 shows a #Paralejurus trilobite which has been prepared from both sides so it resembles a piece of plastic. We returned to Merzouga for a third and final night. (at Erfoud) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5BcoLLJEw5/?igshid=52xwiv7mrkux

#erfoud #morocco #hamarlaghdad #keskes #devonian #trilobites #phacops #orthoceras #gonioclymenia #silurian #scyphocrinites #crinoids #ordovician #odontopleurid #selenopeltis #brittlestar #paralejurus

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stumptownprinters · 7 years

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The C.C. Stern Type Foundry is presenting a screening of Pressing On: The Letterpress Film this coming Tuesday, the 19th at The Clinton Street Theater. You can see the post about the event and get details here. It’s a beautifully shot film that interviews multiple generations of the letterpress community in the Midwest. Some of our favorite printers and type casters are featured, including a few that we visited in their home shops just a couple weeks ago!

We printed the poster here at Stumptown Printers — a form constructed entirely of hot metal composition. A real treat for us! Ludlow, Linotype and a Monotype Sorts Caster were all used to cast the type and ornamentation, which we printed in two colors on Fabriano Rosapina. The particulars are in that red arrow, if you truly want to geek out about which type face is which. A limited amount of posters will be for sale at the event, helping to support the costs of the film screening.

Looking forward to gathering at the theater!

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shapesweets83-blog · 5 years

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Best Architecture, Urban Design, & Public Art Of 2018

We’ve been saying this for a few years now, but 2018 really did feel like a year where significant changes–much of them highly-anticipated–came to Philly’s built environment.

Comcast Technology Center | Photo: Bradley Maule

A refashioned LOVE Park opened without skateboarders and a replacement National Products building with its faked but convincing historic facade began filling up with renters; some might say the original versions were better. The iconic Curtis and Bourse buildings emerged from renovations as upscale food destinations. In West Philadelphia, the development of uCitySquare, a joint project of Science Center, Cambridge Innovation Center, Wexford Science and Technology, BioLabs, and Ventas continued apace with the opening of its first mid-rise tower.

A significant extension to the Schuylkill River Trail from South to Christian street closed part of the gap between the existing boardwalk and Grays Ferry Crescent, while the Fairmount Water Works Trail and Boardwalk opened, affording views of the small island wetlands behind the Philadelphia Museum of Art. We like how at this point all of these Schuylkill projects have come to an understanding about the materials, finishes, and street furniture that they will be using going forward.

In fact, there’s much to like about all of the above developments but whether in scope or aesthetics, context or contributions, they weren’t the most transformative ones of 2018. What ties our winners together are linkages–past to present, city to nature, interior to exterior. For those, read on.

New Building: Skyscraper

The eastern view from the Comcast Technology Center | Photo: Nathaniel Popkin

Who needs Amazon when we have Comcast? With its second skyscraper, the 1,121-foot, $1.5 billion Comcast Technology Center, the media giant has risen to the occasion by using corporate architecture to positively impact downtown. Granted, Foster + Partners’ glass tower isn’t exactly groundbreaking, but its interiors are. An installation by the world-class contemporary artist Jenny Holzer and an extensive use of wood (from slatted sides and ceilings to distinctive woodblock flooring) integrate the building into the life of the city and elevate its performance as public space. An elegant and reasonably priced cafe offers a great addition to the lunch scene (as I witnessed one recent afternoon, CEO Brian Roberts thinks it’s good enough to entertain Steven Spielberg). The expansive glass opens up respectful vistas of, and a connection to, the two towers’ stalwart neighbor, the Arch Street Presbyterian Church, and the Robert Morris Building beyond.

New Building: Hidden Gem

Entrance to the Discovery Center overlooking the East Park Reservoir | Photo: Nathaniel Popkin

Discovery Center in East Fairmount Park has a grand exterior, perhaps more so than its relatively modest mission demands. Designed by Digsau for the offices and services of the local branches of Audubon and Outward Bound, its long flat planes emerge from the Fairmount Park landscape seemingly out of nowhere, promising an oasis amidst the sea of chickenwire fencing that surrounds a decommissioned reservoir/now native habitat. Serene and bold at the same time, it reminds me of some of the best of modern Japanese architecture, not only in its forms and materials but in its embrace of nature. Your first steps through the portal of a hand-forged steel gate (it looks like wood lattice) positioned in the middle of a 500-foot facade of shou sugi ban will pretty much take your breath away.

Public Space

Cherry Street Pier | Photo: Michael Bixler

Among the many civic achievements of Race Street Pier (2011) was the crystallization of the allure of its near neighbor to the south, Cherry Street Pier. The realization of that tease came this fall, with a little piece of tactical urbanism designed by Groundswell Design Group and Interface Studio Architects. Drawing on the lessons of GDG’s wildly successful Spruce St. Harbor Park–namely that people like beer, street food, and things to do along with their views–it’s a fun and dynamic environment that aims to delight. Someone please give the folks at Delaware River Waterfront Corporation (the force behind all three spaces) an award for recognizing that interventions don’t always have to take dozens of years and hundreds of millions to be transformative.

Adaptive Reuse

The Rail Park | Photo: Bradley Maule

The idea of the Rail Park was a big meh to me–until it opened. As was the case with Cherry Street Pier’s first weekend, though, the excitement and interest in the unveiling that morning (of course I went!) was tangible and encouraging. If they do nothing else, such projects foster a dialogue about how we use our urban spaces, and for that alone they deserve high praise. Sure, The Rail Park’s first phase is just a little spit of a thing and sure it can’t boast the views or (as of yet) the landscape vision of New York’s High Line. But Studio Bryan Haynes nailed it with a plan that’s firmly of its place and with enough design twists and turns (literally) to keep things interesting–and swinging (also literally).

Preservation

Sprouts Farmers Market | Photo: Michael Bixler

The debut of Philadelphia’s first Sprouts Farmers Market, the Arizona-based chain with a natural/organic bent, was particularly noteworthy because it’s filled a demonstrable market need on South Broad Street. Part of Lincoln Square, an otherwise ordinary development that offers 322 apartments and a retail coterie that includes a tired trio of Target, Starbucks and Pet Smart, its real significance is its success as a bold example of both historic preservation, of the 1876 Philadelphia, Wilmington & Baltimore Railroad depot, and adaptive reuse. Though the corporate strip mall treatment of the entrance to the market fails to acknowledge the urban setting, the historic architecture of the train shed, or the contemporary design of the multi-use apartment building, Sprouts gets shouts simply because of how it’s smartly wedged into the historic train shed. That and the free samples.

New Place

Looking east toward East Market, with the under restoration Stephen Girard and under construction Girard apartment hotel tower in the foreground | Photo: Nathaniel Popkin

East Market touts itself as “dynamic” and while that’s an overstatement, I kind of like it there. An expert mix of new construction, historic restoration, and adaptive reuse that keeps it from feeling bland, this refashioning of the downtrodden former Snellenburg Department Store site into a true mixed-use pedestrian street by BLT Architects is something we haven’t seen before. A new hotel and more local retail (Federal Donuts!) suggest things will only get better. Best of all, the development adds vibrancy to the urban fabric that surrounds it, allowing new vantage points to gaze on the Reading Terminal, PSFS Building, and the former Horn & Hardart at 11th and Ludlow Streets.

Restoration

The Met: White elephant no more | Photo: Nathaniel Popkin

It’s hard to believe that The Met was ever allowed to devolve into a ruin, but after years kept alive by the Holy Ghost Headquarters Church, developer Eric Blumenfeld’s 2013 plan for the Oscar Hammerstein opera house has come to fruition. The careful $56 million renovation by local firm AOS Architects is ruby velvet and gilded surfaces–and bars, lots of bars. It’s been modernized (of course) but with much of its astounding plaster ornamentation recreated, it looks like a concert hall should. Visitors say the sightlines are almost uniformly great, too. Take that, Academy of Music.

Transformation

The Hale Building | Photo: Peter Woodall

Day in, day out the miracle of the 1887 Keystone National Bank Building, designed by Willis Hale, has proven the most pleasurable for me, located as it is on a prominent corner that I pass a couple of times each week. When I first saw the spiffed up red brick and cleaned-up facade in full reveal of the “Hale Building” I do believe I let out an audible gasp. While I’m not in love with the new entrance on the Chestnut Street and I’m not expecting much from the interiors, I thank JKRP Architects for a careful revival of this masterful mashup and making my walks around town that much more pleasurable.

Design Vision

Rear view of the Ronald O. Perelman Center for Political Science and Economics | Photo: Nathaniel Popkin

Long under-utilized, the stately West Philadelphia Trust Building has renewed presence on Walnut Street thanks to a smart restoration and intervention from Toronto-based KPMB. Freshly engraved with the name of its tenant, the University of Pennsylania’s Ronald O. Perelman Center for Political Science and Economics, the 1925 Art Deco building has been seamlessly linked to a new glass-and-aluminum tower that echoes the older structure’s massing and window cutouts. Interiors, too, are elegant with clean lines and a dramatic staircase that suggests both the old and the new bones of the intertwined university building.

Placemaking

Trolley Car Station cafe adjacent to the SEPTA Subway-Surface tunnel | Photo: Nathaniel Popkin

With outdoor seating and beds of native plantings, Trolley Portal Gardens makes a there out of something whose assets–historic Woodlands Cemetery, a charming tunnel–belie its utilitarian functions (catching and disembarking from mass transit). The wood structure of the Trolley Car Station café echoes the form of the adjacent tunnel and bumps up the space from an amenity for transit users to a gift for the entire neighborhood.

Public Art

Deck the Hall light show, City Hall | Photo: Nathaniel Popkin

Robert Indiana’s LOVE was returned to a renovated Love Park, the Parkway Holocaust memorial expanded, and the better-in-concept-than-reality (thus far) sculpture Pulse finally debuted at Dilworth Plaza. From Winter Fountains, the luminous orbs that decorated the Parkway, to Sea Monsters HERE, an Insta-ready serpent that wreaked playful havoc at the Navy Yard, it was certainly a big year for public art. My favorite, though, came courtesy of a brilliant burst of color and movement from the geniuses over at Klip Collective: the City Hall Deck The Hall Light Show. Granted, this iteration differed only slightly from the version the group premiered last year. But because it so lovingly touted City Hall as a dazzling piece of architecture and because it comes from a homegrown operation that’s rapidly gaining a national reputation, I’m giving it the nod. Next year, guys, maybe switch it up?

About the author

Freelance journalist JoAnn Greco writes about the fascinating people, places, trends, and stories found in the worlds of urban planning, arts and culture, design, hospitality, travel and, of course, Philadelphia. Her work has been published in the Washington Post, Art & Antiques, Toronto Globe and Mail, Amtrak’s Arrive, PlanPhilly, Penn Gazette, and dozens of others. She lives in Bella Vista.

Source: https://hiddencityphila.org/2018/12/best-architecture-urban-design-public-art-of-2018/

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brianbagdonas · 7 years

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A budding romance with Metromedium No 2., “Pressing On” film screening and an excuse to gather with Portland print pals

Metromedium No 2 (14^198, 14^186) - has been on my mind. I’ve been having fun casting and printing it. It is bold yet holds a distinct grace and plays well with ink. It prints nicely. And at 14pt, it’s an smooth runner on the machine. Initially I found the appearance of the figures “5” “0” to be a little striking (see pic) - I had suspected that sorts belonging to another version of the typeface had errantly found their way into the magazine. But no, the font number was confirmed and matched. I think it’s a nice feature - the lighter stroke of these figures add a “pulse” to surrounding text which teases the eye along the page. I’m also very happy that this particular font includes the “special No 1” cap W, which closely relates to the Dwiggins’ original Metro design (nice article by Paul Shaw documenting the evolution of Metro here) Anyway, the mats are in good shape, the sidewalls are sound and I’m tickled to cast and print from them. Here’s another example of the typeface used in another recent piece.

The broadside / poster pictured was printed to promote an upcoming film screening and panel discussion sponsored by the C.C. Stern Type Foundry. Foundry volunteers cast the type used on the poster, Jeff Shay cast that gorgeous cutting of Garamond (48pt, 24pt, 18pt) on his Ludlow at Buzzworm Studios (after proofing these slugs, I went down a Robert Hunter Middleton internet rabbit hole - to be explored later. Hopefully Jeff will be my guide, because it looks like I could get lost real fast. Amazing stuff there…), Rebecca Gilbert cast decorative ornaments on the monotype sorts caster at the C.C. Stern Type Foundry, and I cast the above mentioned Metromedium No 2 and smaller sizes of Garamond using the Linotype at Stumptown Printers. Rebecca then masterfully handled the press work at Stumptown Printers. The poster was a good excuse for a collaborative hot-metal project. Nice work, team!

If you’re in Portland, please come to the event.

Here’s info:

Pressing On: The Letterpress Film Tuesday, Sep 19 7:00pm Clinton Street Theater 2522 SE Clinton Street Portland, OR 97202

For Advance Tickets go to the Clinton Street Theater site For info about the event, here's a post from the C.C. Stern Type Foundry Website

Pressing On website

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artwalktv · 5 years

Video

vimeo

"No Le Digan" (Don't Tell Her) is the first single from the album "El Cantador" by Meow Wolf's debut recording artist Carlos Medina. The video tells a story of two parallel paths on the road to heartbreak. Carlos, a forlorn Mariachi, dwells upon his sorrows, while a puppet version of himself revels in newfound freedom – proclaiming himself the be the king of the world. Album and Tour Tickets Available at http://bit.ly/2TOSCLP http://bit.ly/2Jasbw0 http://bit.ly/2TOSyM5 http://bit.ly/2JqDNLJ --Credits-- Directed by - Kron Produced by - Meow Wolf Produced by - Rob Overbeck Puppets by - Michael McCormick and Devon Ludlow Lead Costume and Puppet Designer - Erica Frank Lead Puppeteer - Devon Ludlow Production Design by - Kevin Pierce Cinematography by - James Longmire Story by - Ryan Thompson and Graviel De La Plaga Carlos Medina as Himself Figure Skater - Paige Mascarenas Bartender - Elias Gallegos Folklorico Dancer - Renee Roybal Bar Regular - Michael McCormick Post Supervision and VFX by Brad Wolfey Edited by - Kron Closing Score by - Peter Chase Sound Design and Foley by - Doseone Color by - James Longmire 1st AC - Daniel Scotti 2nd AC - Will Tatman Lighting Designer/Tech - Jake Snider Gaffer - Hans Berner Electric - Irene Allen Key Grip - Michael Warren Dolly Grip - Jeff Bettis Grip - Paul Trujillo Grip - Andres Isaac Rives Construction Grip - Amrit Khalsa Construction Grip - Adam Bauxbam Construction Grip - Blake PA - Dominique Mazire PA - Emily Rankin Hood Ornament Puppet by - Aubrey Schwartz Light Painting by - Mathew Bradley Miniature Set Builder, Puppet Tinder, and Arrow Design by - Max Neutra Bathroom Build and Sink Fiber SPFX - Cole B. Wilson Painter and Sewing by - Newt Floor Designer/Painter - Nick Toll Accordion Prop by - Oliver Polzin Prop Master and Set Decorator - Rachel Veal Assistant Decorator - Erin Cohen SPFX - Scott Hastings Painter - Ulrike “Ulli” Aver-Erdoes Costume Assistant - Dianna Warren Neon Consultation - Neon Todd Props, Statues, and Objects Provided by - Quinn Tincher Low Riders Provided by - Tony Romero and Ivan Macias Puppeteers - Camile Cooper, Alec Brown, Aubrey Schwartz, Max Walukas, Max Neutra, Lily, Oliver Polzin, Cole Wilson, Talon Buffalo Heart Stahmer, Adrian Marcais, Erin, Austin Ross, Theodore Schafer, Justin Wiemer, Chad Conti, Alec Brown, Isabel Zermani, Rob Overbeck Lenses Provided by - Panavision Set Walls Provided by - Stagecoach Prints by - Pronto Signs Camera Support - Serious Grippage and Maleko Grip Filters and Lens Support - Gene Sive Special Thanks - George R.R. Martin, Nicolas Gonda, Tristan Love, Joe Dean, Lisa Kringler, Tortilla Flats Filmed on location in the state of New Mexico

#Videos & Films

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uwmspeccoll · 1 year

Photo

Typography Tuesday

SHADED FONTS

Shaded fonts go by a number of other monikers, including “shadowed,” “inline,” and “outline.” These are fonts where the interior of the letter is the same color as the background and the letter is formed in outline with a thin line on one side and thicker line on the other, creating a shadowed effect that suggests three-dimensionality. The fonts displayed here from Alphabets: A Manual of Letter Design, with Complete Alphabets of Varied Styles of Lettering by the American type designer and printing historian Douglas C. McMurtrie, published in Pelham, New York by Bridgman Publishers in 1926. The fonts are:

Narcissus, designed in 1921 by Walter Tiemann for the Klingspor Foundry, and based on a set of ornamental inline capitals first cut by Simon Pierre Fournier about 1745.

Mercure (we don’t have design or production information on this font).

Vanity Fair, designed by McMurtrie himself in 1923 and cast by Continental Type Founders for Condé Nast Press.

Greco Adornado, released by Richard Gans Foundry in 1924.

McMurtrie Title, also designed by McMurtrie for Condé Nast Press, and based on a specimen designed by Belgian type founder Jacques-François Rosart from 1768.

Douglas C. McMurtrie (1888-1944) held a number of important posts in his short lifetime, including printing manager for the Columbia University Printing Office, the Arbor Press, and Condé Nast Press; editor of the prestigious Ars Typographica magazine; typographic director of the Cuneo Press; director of advertising and typography at Ludlow Typograph Company; and head of the WPA’s American Imprints Inventory.

View other fonts from this publication.

View more Typography Tuesday posts.

#Typography Tuesday #typetuesday #Typography Tuesday #shaded fonts #shadow fonts #inline fonts #Alphabets A Manual of Letter Design #Douglas C. McMurtrie #Bridgman Publishers #Narcissus type #Mercure type #Vanity Fair type #Greco Adornado #McMurtrie Title #20th century type

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whileiamdying · 5 years

Video

vimeo

"No Le Digan" (Don't Tell Her) is the first single from the album "El Cantador" by Meow Wolf's debut recording artist Carlos Medina. The video tells a story of two parallel paths on the road to heartbreak. Carlos, a forlorn Mariachi, dwells upon his sorrows, while a puppet version of himself revels in newfound freedom – proclaiming himself the be the king of the world. Album and Tour Tickets Available at https://carlos.mw https://www.facebook.com/CarlosMedinaMusic https://www.instagram.com/carlosmedina_music https://meowwolf.com --Credits-- Directed by - Kron Produced by - Meow Wolf Produced by - Rob Overbeck Puppets by - Michael McCormick and Devon Ludlow Lead Costume and Puppet Designer - Erica Frank Lead Puppeteer - Devon Ludlow Production Design by - Kevin Pierce Cinematography by - James Longmire Story by - Ryan Thompson and Graviel De La Plaga Carlos Medina as Himself Figure Skater - Paige Mascarenas Bartender - Elias Gallegos Folklorico Dancer - Renee Roybal Bar Regular - Michael McCormick Post Supervision and VFX by Brad Wolfey Edited by - Kron Closing Score by - Peter Chase Sound Design and Foley by - Doseone Color by - James Longmire 1st AC - Daniel Scotti 2nd AC - Will Tatman Lighting Designer/Tech - Jake Snider Gaffer - Hans Berner Electric - Irene Allen Key Grip - Michael Warren Dolly Grip - Jeff Bettis Grip - Paul Trujillo Grip - Andres Isaac Rives Construction Grip - Amrit Khalsa Construction Grip - Adam Bauxbam Construction Grip - Blake PA - Dominique Mazire PA - Emily Rankin Hood Ornament Puppet by - Aubrey Schwartz Light Painting by - Mathew Bradley Miniature Set Builder, Puppet Tinder, and Arrow Design by - Max Neutra Bathroom Build and Sink Fiber SPFX - Cole B. Wilson Painter and Sewing by - Newt Floor Designer/Painter - Nick Toll Accordion Prop by - Oliver Polzin Prop Master and Set Decorator - Rachel Veal Assistant Decorator - Erin Cohen SPFX - Scott Hastings Painter - Ulrike “Ulli” Aver-Erdoes Costume Assistant - Dianna Warren Neon Consultation - Neon Todd Props, Statues, and Objects Provided by - Quinn Tincher Low Riders Provided by - Tony Romero and Ivan Macias Puppeteers - Camile Cooper, Alec Brown, Aubrey Schwartz, Max Walukas, Max Neutra, Lily, Oliver Polzin, Cole Wilson, Talon Buffalo Heart Stahmer, Adrian Marcais, Erin, Austin Ross, Theodore Schafer, Justin Wiemer, Chad Conti, Alec Brown, Isabel Zermani, Rob Overbeck Lenses Provided by - Panavision Set Walls Provided by - Stagecoach Prints by - Pronto Signs Camera Support - Serious Grippage and Maleko Grip Filters and Lens Support - Gene Sive Special Thanks - George R.R. Martin, Nicolas Gonda, Tristan Love, Joe Dean, Lisa Kringler, Tortilla Flats Filmed on location in the state of New Mexico

#IFTTT #Vimeo

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biofunmy · 4 years

Text

$600,000 Homes in Ohio, Vermont and Virginia

Cincinnati | $599,000

A 1908 Greek and Renaissance Revival house with seven bedrooms, two full bathrooms and three half bathrooms, on a 0.72-acre lot

Designed for Frank Herschede, a clock manufacturer, this sandstone-clad Beaux-Arts house is the best-known work of Samuel S. Godley, a Cincinnati architect. It was the Herschede family manse until 1954, then a funeral home and then a law office. In the 1980s, Dale Schlanser, a Packard automobile salesman and collector, converted the property back to a private residence and expanded the garage.

It is on Reading Road, a major thoroughfare in the historic North Avondale neighborhood, five miles northeast of downtown and two and a half miles northeast of the Cincinnati Zoo and Botanical Garden.

Size: 8,502 square feet

Price per square foot: $70

Indoors: Ascending an exterior flight of concrete steps, you pass through an ornate wrought-iron grate into a marble vestibule, and then through mahogany double doors into a grand entrance that culminates in a double-winged staircase.

Mahogany pocket doors open to front parlors on either side. On the left is the more feminine room, with red-striped silk wall coverings framed by white-painted carved wood panels; the working gas fireplace (one of six in the home) and ceiling have gilded details. On the right, the more masculine parlor is trimmed in polished mahogany and the wall silk is cream. It opens to a solarium with mosaic floor tile.

Beyond this room is a 19-by-20-foot dining room with hand-tooled leather wall panels flanked by mahogany pilasters, a marble fireplace, gilded plaster ceiling molding and two sets of French doors with etched glass and transom lights leading to the solarium. (A second sun porch is off the back of this room.)

Across the hallway is the kitchen; it was renovated in the 1980s with floor-to-ceiling wood cabinetry and connects to an eat-in butler’s pantry with a wall of built-ins for storing china and other tableware.

The staircase has a bronze railing and is ornamented with a three-panel leaded-green-glass window. At the top is a parlor with hand-painted walls and Art Nouveau-style French doors opening to a balcony.

A room used as a library is at the center of the floor, and four bedrooms are at the corners. Two of the bedrooms, with matching French doors and balconies, flank the parlor. Like many rooms in the home, they have oak floors with boards laid in concentric rectangles. Both also have fireplaces. The bathroom off the room used as the master has a pedestal sink and a stall shower. The two rear bedrooms are set up as offices.

The original 18-by-47-foot ballroom is on the third floor, reached by a back staircase. That level also includes three bedrooms and a full bathroom.

Finally, there is an enormous basement with a laundry room.

Outdoor space: A driveway passes under a portico and continues to a large paved area in the back. The original two-bay garage was expanded to hold five vehicles. Upstairs is a one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen, a full bath and two additional rooms.

Taxes: $13,367 (2018, based on a tax assessment of $542,220)

Contact: Adam Sanregret, Cincinnati Historic Homes, Coldwell Banker West Shell, 513-259-3001; coldwellbanker.com

Landgrove, Vt. | $589,000

A 1991 post-and-beam house with three bedrooms and two bathrooms, on a 19.1-acre lot

This Cape Cod-style house was built as a year-round residence for the owner, who later used it as a vacation home. It is in a rural town about 15 miles northeast of Manchester and the same distance southwest of Ludlow. Landgrove lacks a business district, but shops, restaurants and galleries can be found in the surrounding communities of Londonderry, Peru and Weston, all within five miles. The Bromley Mountain and Magic Mountain ski areas are less than 15 minutes away. The Stratton Mountain and Okemo Mountain resorts are within 25 minutes. Boston is about three hours southeast, and New York City is about three and a half hours southwest.

Size: 2,778 square feet

Price per square foot: $212

Indoors: A marble-tiled foyer leads to a room with hardwood floors and a white-painted timber ceiling with open beams. A Rumford fireplace is on one side, and an open kitchen with maple cabinets and Vermont marble countertops is on the other. In between are seating and dining areas illuminated by six-over-six sash windows. A glass door opens to the back.

A windowed coatroom with built-ins for clothing and gear is immediately to the right of the front door, and there is a small study with built-in bookshelves off the living room. The main floor has a bathroom with marble floor tile and a shower.

The three bedrooms on the second floor include a master with maple built-in bookshelves and a vaulted ceiling pierced with windows. The hall bathroom has a marble floor and a combined tub and shower.

There is a bonus room under the roof gable on the third floor, and a walkout basement that includes a playroom with a wood-burning stove.

Outdoor space: Cross-country skiing trails, stone walls, specimen trees and perennial gardens are features of the rolling property. There is also a storage shed.

Taxes: $11,696

Contact: Claudia Harris, Mary Mitchell Miller Real Estate, 802-379-0347; mmmrealestate.com

Richmond, Va. | $599,000

A 1907 brick house with four bedrooms and two and a half bathrooms, on a 0.09-acre lot

This house is in a historic neighborhood known as the Fan district, because of its shape. It is a block from West Broad Street, a business-lined artery leading directly to downtown, two miles southeast. Virginia Commonwealth University’s campus is a mile east. The owner is Alyse Auernheimer, one of the listing agents.

Size: 2,986 square feet

Price per square foot: $201

Indoors: An original glass front door opens to a hallway divided by a row of Corinthian columns from a pair of connected parlors to the right. These rooms have nine-foot ceilings, white-painted floors and exposed-brick fireplaces with mirrored overmantels (the fireplaces are currently not in use).

They are followed by the original dining room, now used as a family room, with parquet floors and a fireplace. This room leads into a kitchen with wood floors, white cabinets and a commercial range with six burners, a griddle and two ovens. The top of the breakfast bar slides to one side to reveal stairs that descend into the basement.

Three of the upstairs bedrooms include decorative fireplaces, and the fourth has large windows and was used as a painting studio. The master faces the street and includes three closets and a private bathroom with a claw-foot tub.

Outdoor space: The home has a picturesque, columned front porch and a large deck off the kitchen on the side. The backyard is fenced. There is off-street parking for two cars.

Taxes: $6,588

Contact: Kathryn Oti or Alyse Auernheimer, Scott Garnett Team at One South Realty Group, 804-467-8901; forsale.onesouthrealty.com

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