Cool Stuff Friday.

When the makers of the live-action remake of Kiki’s Delivery Service needed bicycles for the film they turned to one man: Nobuyuki Tani.

Beautiful, gorgeous bicycles! There are definitely three of them I’d like to have, if wishes were fishes and I had a net.

In his studio in Chigasaki, a coastal city in Kanagawa an hour Southwest of Tokyo, Tani hand-assembles all his bikes. With a careful attention to detail and an emphasis on materials, Tani sculpts his unique creations into functional, ridable works of art. He was commissioned to create all the bicycles for the live-action adaptation of Kiki’s Delivery Service (2014). Tani created the fantastical flying bicycle but also the bread maker’s bicycle and Tombo’s regular bicycle.

Tani also collaborated with Ishinokura Shoten to create 3 models that are produced at larger quantities. Vintage parts procured from around the world come together with custom-parts to create 3 distinct rides that are both beautiful to look at, but entirely functional. With just the right amount of whimsy, these bikes look like they’ve come right out of some imaginative fairy tale.

Pictured above is the “Matiere” model (158,000 yen). It’s a geographically neutral city bicycle that is all about materials: wood, leather and iron.

You can read and see more at Spoon & Tamago.

Ever wonder about soy sauce? Wonder no more!

screenshots from the film “The Birthplace of Soy Sauce”.

Soy Sauce is said to have originated in China and then brought over to Japan by a Buddhist monk who settled down in current-day Wakayama Prefecture in 1254. Using the abundance of clear, spring water from the town of Yuasa he began producing a type of miso that he had learned about on his travels that had been used to preserve vegetables. A byproduct from this process – a liquid that collected in the barrels of the miso paste – was soy sauce. And this is how the town of Yuasa became the birthplace of Soy Sauce.

In a masterfully-produced short film, Japanese filmmaker Mile Nagaoka walks us down the streets of Yuasa and into a traditional soy sauce manufacturer that’s still producing soy sauce almost exactly the same way it was made more than 750 years ago. You can almost smell the rich, fermenting flavors of soy sauce waft out of the screen.

After originating in Yuasa, Soy Sauce is thought to have made its way to Kansai, where it became popular. In fact, there is documentation of a large 18,000 liter (about 4800 gallons) shipment of soy sauce from Wakayama to Osaka in 1588. What is thought to be Japan’s first Soy Sauce manufacturer had opened shop just 8 years earlier and is actually still in business.

Via Spoon & Tamago.

Last Light from Colin Rich on Vimeo.

The NatGeo Travel Photographer of the Year comp is up and running! Get those photos in, people!  The Grand Prize is a 10-day trip for two to the Galápagos Islands!

Caffettiera.

Christoph has kindly given me permission to raid his flickr, and I’m so happy about that, because I think his paintings and photos are absolutely grand. Starting with Caffettiera, because I’m so drawn to this, there’s a great sense of comfort and homeliness here. Click for full size!

Stove-top coffee-machine. Mostly called “Moka” in Italy. Looks like this–and worse!–if used on a gas oven.

Caffettiera, Christoph Zurnieden.

© Christoph Zurnieden, all rights reserved.

One Sure Thing…

I will be replacing all my needle stock, which is considerable, with Bohin Needles. They are like holding silvery slices of infinitely sharp air. Speaking of, as much as I love DMC threads, do not ever buy their needles. As good as their thread is, that’s how bad their needles are. Oh, and technically speaking, I’m not doing French Knots on the canopy. I’m doing an odd blend of Candlewick & French, so that I don’t need to alter my wrap direction when going between the canopy and trunk.

© C. Ford, all rights reserved.

One Skein.

That patch of very dark brown? That’s one skein. (Approx. 1 x 2″) There are a couple of bald spaces though, so time to pre-wash another skein of DMC 3371, because it’s prone to colour bleed. That takes me to 163 skeins used. Back to work!

© C. Ford, all rights reserved.

Karl Blossfeldt.

Karl Blossfeldt, Cucurbita sp., pumpkin, tendrils (courtesy D.A.P.).

Karl Blossfeldt, Polystichum munitum, western swordfern, young furled frond (courtesy D.A.P.).

As someone who gets obsessive about shooting plants, all the various bits, and finds them endlessly fascinating, Karl Blossfeldt has long been a revered icon. There’s a new book of his photos out, and they remain some of the most beautiful botanical photos ever taken. That beauty is magnified by the fact that Blossfeldt was using a homemade camera.

Karl Blossfeldt originally made detailed photographs of plant specimens as teaching tools for his applied art students, building his own camera to magnify the sculptural qualities of seedpods, pumpkin tendrils, and horsetail shoots at up to 45 times their size. The 1928 publication of his book Urformen der Kunst (Art Forms in Nature) suddenly brought the Berlin professor widespread artistic acclaim, with critic and philosopher Walter Benjamin describing the “astonishing plant photographs” as revealing “the forms of ancient columns in horse willow, a bishop’s crosier in the ostrich fern, totem poles in tenfold enlargements of chestnut and maple shoots, and gothic tracery in the fuller’s thistle.”

[…]

We’re so familiar with macrophotography today that it may be hard to return to the early-20th-century context and imagine how these images would have startled viewers with their revelations of intricate beauty in even the smallest bud of a violet. Yet they remain compelling examples of looking closely at the world around us.

I love macro photography, and indulge in it often enough, but for me, none of it takes away from Blossfeldt’s work. There’s a joy and purity to his photos which are simply unparalleled.

Hyperallergic has the full story.