Today, I have had my mind mind officially blown away by the coolest piece of data visualisation! I know, I’m probably slow to the scene, but you should immediately go and check out: http://listen.hatnote.com
No seriously. Right now... Okay, maybe after I have finished raving.
The website is Listen to Wikipedia, and it’s purpose is to create audio that represents the creation and removal of data on Wikipedia. The sound and strength of the notes depends on the size of the edit and who made it. The sound is absolutely lovely, and somewhat meditative. While the music plays, the titles of the pages being edit pop up on the screen like soft bubbles.
What an engaging and lovely way to display this data!
I can’t help but wonder what this would sound like connected to Trove. Or if it could be the sound in an entrance to a museum, being triggered off by people using the website or the data. This style of visualisation could provide a beauty that connects people to the importance of research and information creation.
A bit of research tells me that this isn’t the first amazing visualisation project that has been created the designer Mahmoud Hashemi. Working with Hatnote and Wikipedia, the designer has been a part of a number of heritage based visualisation projects, that are just very cool.
I hope this brings a little joy into your life this week.
I am incredibly lucky to work with some exceptional volunteers, who just seem to always *know* where to sniff out the clues. A few weeks ago, Jan the amazing, after digging though Floriade ephemera found the following details:
I can’t help but wonder if the artist had been compelled into creating the artwork, which he fervently didn’t want to. It is a brilliant name.
With that info, I dutifully added it into all my training manuals. Then I wondered... how is anyone else ever going to find this?
Thus, I am now editing the Wikipedia page for Commonwealth Park. I’ve started on the sculptures table to start with, but I feel that this might take quite some time. Wish me luck!
In preparation of upcoming walking tours, I am currently researching the many varied sculptures in Commonwealth Park, Canberra. I do love this work, and discovering the people behind the amazing artworks is just delightful. I am perplexed however, in trying to find any information on the sculpture that I have nicknamed ‘Big Blue’.
The sculpture lays on the western shore of Nerang pool. Snuggled into the tree line, the plaque has long ago lost all writing from it. I have managed to narrow down some evidence so far:
1. A photo of it in the garden appears in a 1995 newspaper
2. It does not seem to be one of the commissioned works from 1995’s Floriade
3. It does not seem to have been a commissioned work from 1994
1993 winners are currently being illusive, much to my aggravation. On the upside though, it creates a timescale of probably somewhere between 1975 and 1995, which is somewhat smaller then what I was originally looking at.
My current plan is to keep reading through old newspapers and to widen my search of photos around the area. In addition, once all the fencing is down, I’m going to try a rubbing of the plaque, just in case.
I’ll keep the search going and update my avid readers with the outcomes. If you happen to have any old photos of the area near Nerang Pool, I would certainly love to hear from you!
Canberra Times (1995) - Floriade Canberra’s Spring Festival: All the things you need to know
Canberra Times (1995) - Floriade Canberra’s Spring Festival: Gardens a show case for sculptors
Canberra Times (1994) - Canberra’s Spring Festival of Flower
Admittedly, this artist is making beautiful things.
But still nope. My library is meant to stay in whole format, unmollested by glue and scissors.
But she does make beautiful things.
Artist website: http://www.locchipinti.com/sculpture.html
Bookstore where this book was found: http://www.sapphobooks.com.au/
I took the time to pop into Midwarr/Harvest yesterday at the National Museum of Australia, with the knowledge that I was catching the exhibition on the last day. I’m not certain why it took me so long to check this amazing exhibition out, it has some fantastic artworks and brilliant design practice. The exhibition is a collaboration between Mulkun Wirrpanda and John Wolseley, exploring the plants of north-east Arnhem Land. There were more then 80 items to explore which stretched out over a number of different mediums.
I loved the organic feeling to the exhibition space. The front entrance to the exhibition included natural feeling curves with a backdrop of a massive canvas stretching nearly the length of the displays. The text panels incorporated the same art styles and created connection to the works very succinctly. It will never fail to impress me when a designer so beautifully conveys messages in so few words. Along with text panels, there were also called out quotes from the artists, in both English and in Yolnu matha (language). It really was a stunning exhibition, and I am disappointed that I left it too late to visit a second time. I’m also disappointed that the book seems to be sold out pretty much from every shop in Canberra - on the upside it’s nice to see a museum exhibition book sell out!
I think what I loved the most with this exhibition was the connection that I felt to the artists. Through expressive panels, I was reading their stories that deepened my curiousity and respect for the works. I felt a powerful draw towards the artist tools and creation process descriptions. Having the wood block cuttings next to their respective prints was a wonderful choice. Not only could I imagine the work that it would take to create the blocks, it created a real resonance with the matierials displayed. I appreciated the small display of artistic tools on display, as another personal connection, and I thought that the photos of the artists creating these beautiful works were fantastic. I really loved that the display design did not shy away from showing the medium that the works were painted on to, and in fact seemed to embrace all aspects of the work as significant.
Having recently attended the National Libaries Dombrovski exhibition, I felt that as a viewer I preferred these deeper connections to really humanise the artworks. Perhaps the purpose of the exhibition Dombrovski exhibition was to give an insider peak into the vast nature of Tasmanian wilderness. However, my reaction to the exhibition was a whole lot of ‘my, that’s a lot of nature’. I would have loved to see some of the personal artefacts to give me an idea of the person behind the lens - a camera, a duffle bag, one of the glass slides, some personal stories. Without these small human connections, I found it hard to transcend from ‘my, that’s a big mountain’, to ‘wow! I can’t beleive a human took that photo under such extreme conditions’. Perhaps the design of the exhibition just required someone who is much more interested in natural landscapes then I am.
“There is... there was...a country...that spoke in the language of leaves”
I have a deep love of embroidery and textiles. I love the history and the art behind pieces. I love the history of ‘womens work’ and it’s impacts on the world around us. So I was exceptionally pleased to discover an incredible example of modern embroidery in the Great Hall at Parliament House. During a wander after the Urban Sketchers group meet up and throw down, I discovered it with a friend while we were admiring the tapestries. We may have spent the next 10 minutes photographing and trying to analyse the skills and methods that were used to create the master piece.
Commissioned in 1984, the embroidery took 8 years to complete. The work was a collaboration between Kay Lawrence and the Embroidery Guides of Australia. The artwork is 16 meters long, stretching almost the full length of the Great Hall. To convert the original water colour painting into an embroidery, a countless number of techniques were used. From a distance, the painting looks whole and complete, up close there is a myriad of intricate and amazing details. The Australian Women’s Register describes the work as taking 12,000 hours of work, performed by over 504 women over several states.
It is breath taking in person, and my photos could not even state to capture how amazing this work is. Parliament House has an incredible collection and is wonderful to explore, but if you are interested in textile art this is an absolute must see.
With my all my upcoming travel plans, I thought I would try something new to help record (and savour) the experiences. One of my talented artistic friends invited me along to an Urban Sketchers group in Canberra. The Urban Sketchers movement is a community driven group, with the tag line of “We show the world, one drawing at a time”. After having read a couple of articles about slowing travel down by photographing less, I thought I might try and learn a new skill for the trip. In addition, my grandfather, as he travelled around Europe during WW2 took some limited photographs (film was expensive!), but mostly kept a journal which he would write and draw in to document his experiences. I’m charmed by the concept of creating a document that I can look back on and re-experience not only what I saw, but how I felt about my journeys. This is probably not exactly something one can easily achieve via a facebook photo file!
And so, behold! My first attempt at urban sketching!
I briefly popped into a small exhibition on Joseph Bank’s Florilegium last night at the Australian National Library. Banks was a British naturalist and botanist, well know for his travels with Captain Cook. After his voyage around the word in 1976-1771 he returned with over 1300 plant species that to fully document. The Florilegium is the collection of those works and is widely held to be both beautiful and incredibly accurate. ANU is displaying a small collection of these works in preparation for a new book being released by David Mabberley. I took a couple of photos of the works, mostly of tiny snippets of the works. The details are just a glorious thing!
Museum working, game playing and dog loving geek. Tune in for musings about the GLAM sector, and generally geekiness.