If you know the Disney movie Fantasia you know the music. It’s the one with the scary dinosaurs. This music may well be imprinted into my lizard brain. As kids we’d dance to it in our little rented stucco home in Evanston, Illinios. For us it was a story of the chase—of calm and chaos.

If you like percussive, crazy and aggressive music you might want to give it a try. It was one of Frank Zappa’s favorites. Beware, it’s not a crooner. It’s the musical and dance performance that created a riot in Paris in 1913 on May 29.  And your kids may love it.

One year ago today I celebrated it’s 100th anniversary with a series on my Facebook page. The music sounds challenging 100 years later and I wondered, “How crazy would it have sounded in 1913? What was it like in Paris back then?” The city was growing into a metropolis, automobiles and aeroplanes were brand new, and movies were still silent. In one year Europe would be engaged in the most terrible war the world had ever seen.

Here’s what my Facebook looked like a year ago. Don’t miss the 1910 French post cards of the future. Sorry, some links may no longer be available as happens on the internets.

“There is nothing in this involved, compact, and concentrated film but explosive genius.”
Update: As of March 2015, the 1913 silent film Fantômas is streaming on Netfllix.
It’s a nice print and score, though so naive that few of us would find the plot surprising.

My Epilogue:
“I have paris live streaming on Arte right now!” I posted.
I had found as an exact a recreation as possible streaming live on ARTE, France, of the musical performance, the costumes and Nijinski’s choreography—at the exact same hour, on the exact same stage, exactly 100 years later (you can see a clip of it here)—Le Centenaire du Sacre du Printemps at the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées, Paris, performed by the Mariinsky Russian ballet, and conducted by Russian director Valery Gergiev.

Here are a couple of movies that recreate the event.
Riot at Rite 2005, by the BBC, now streaming free on youtube.
Igor Stravinsky and Coco Chanel 2010, with Mads Mikkelsen (Hannibal) as Igor Stravinsky and Anna Mouglalis as Coco Chanel

Paul Rand’s essay on “The Politics of Design”.

Graphic designer Paul Rand created classic logos and striking book covers during his career. Steve Jobs talked about working with Paul Rand in 1993.

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One of the more common problems which tends to create doubt and confusion is caused by the inexperienced and anxious executive who innocently expects, or even demands, to see not one but many solutions to a problem. These may include a number of visual and/or verbal concepts, an assortment of layouts, a variety of pictures and color schemes, as well as a choice of type styles. He needs the reassurance of numbers and the opportunity to exercise his personal preferences. He is also most likely to be the one to insist on endless revisions with unrealistic deadlines, adding to an already wasteful and time-consuming ritual. Theoretically, a great number of ideas assures a great number of choices, but such choices are essentially quantitative. This practice is as bewildering as it is wasteful. It discourages spontaneity, encourages indifference, and more often than not produces results which are neither distinguished, interesting, nor effective. In short, good ideas rarely come in bunches.

The designer who voluntarily presents his client with a batch of layouts does so not out prolificacy, but out of uncertainty or fear. He thus encourages the client to assume the role of referee. In the event of genuine need, however, the skillful designer is able to produce a reasonable number of good ideas. But quantity by demand is quite different than quantity by choice. Design is a time-consuming occupation. Whatever his working habits, the designer fills many a wastebasket in order to produce one good idea. Advertising agencies can be especially guilty in this numbers game. Bent on impressing the client with their ardor, they present a welter of layouts, many of which are superficial interpretations of potentially good ideas, or slick renderings of trite ones…

Expertise in business administration, journalism, accounting, or selling, though necessary in its place, is not expertise in problems dealing with visual appearance. The salesman who can sell you the most sophisticated computer typesetting equipment is rarely one who appreciates fine typography or elegant proportions. Actually, the plethora of bad design that we see all around us can probably be attributed as much to good salesmanship as to bad taste.

Excerpt from A Designer’s Art, Paul Rand, Yale University Press (1985)

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The more design variations you show seems to be in direct correlation with the vagueness of the project brief/goals/objectives.

It’s usually a sign that things moved into the visual exploration stage too early in the process. Proper design requires properly defined objectives to design against. Once those are properly defined, the range of potential successful design solutions is narrowed significantly.

Household furnishings, 1968 style.

On the TV: Cissy of “Family Affair” gets hip to 1968.

Could Spock be rejecting trippy space psychedelia?

Bewitching.

Pop culture artifacts, 1968.

“Arms Up” 1.0

“Arms Up” 2.0

Jane Fonda is “Barbarella”.

The exhibit was originally mounted by the Minnesota Historical Society, where my  sister-in-law, Wendy, is Head of Museum and Education Programs (if it were up to me, I’d just tell you Wendy invented 1968).

There’s plenty to see at the Oakland Museum, including the first retrospective of graphic novelist, Daniel Clowes, a 1960’s protest poster exhibit, and Oakland’s great permanent collections.

After August 19th, the exhibit heads off for dates in Pittsburgh, Philadelphia and St. Louis, through 2014. Highly recommended.

Read more about this year’s history in Mark Kurlansky’s book, 1968: The Year That Rocked the World.

All photos by Jay F. Miller.

Thousands of Green Bay Packer fans became a part of something they believe in today.

In their first stock offering in 14 years, the Packers sold 1,600 shares of stock at $250 per share in the first 11 minutes of the sale.

As espn.go.com reports, “The stock isn’t an investment in the traditional sense: Its value doesn’t increase, there are no dividends, it has virtually no re-sale value and it won’t give buyers a leg up on the 93,000 people on the waiting list for season tickets.”

The Packers have been a publicly owned nonprofit since 1923. More than 112,000 Packers stockholders own a total of 4.75 million shares. No other NFL team is owned by its’ fans.

These lucky Packer fans bought shares to become a part of something they believe in.

Your prospective customers want to know how you fit into their life. They want to know how your brand’s meaning intersects their life and what it stands for. If your brand measures up, they’ll want to become a partner with you as well.

When you’re building your brand nation, test it against the Packer’s fans loyalty.  Offer compelling reasons to believe in your brand. Offer values to live by, ethics, a movement, and a reason to be that your customers will want to become a part of.

These are the brand evangelists who will spread the good news about you and your brand.
These are the people who will become your brand nation.

Kurt Schwitters’ evocative collages are composed of the discarded stuff of life—arcane retail bags and paper, tickets, and newspaper classifieds combined into jewel-like miniatures not much bigger than your iphone, though some are more than double that size.

This exhibit is  gathered from a wide array of sources—some from the private collections of artists Ellsworth Kelly and Jasper Johns, and the Schwitters family itself.

Schwitters talked about his work in mostly formal terms—his collage materials were extensions of color and paint—but its’ strong recalled memories cannot be resisted. It’s as if you’re looking down to what’s beneath your feet, long discarded by those before you.

Along with famous artists Hanna Hoch, Hans Arp and El Lissitsky, Schwitters created the Dada-like revolutionary Merz Magazine.

Also on display is a recreation of one room of his Merzbau environment, a multi-room composition without boundaries—like walking through Arp sculpture punctuated with bits of Max Earnst imagery. You’ll leave wanting to wander through twenty times the wonder we’re allowed here.

Kurt Schwitters Color and Collage, at the Berkeley Museum of Art—BAM / PFA.
Ends Sunday November 27, 2011.

(No photographs of the exhibit are permitted, so here are some images of the cantilevered M. C. Esher, Labyrinth aesthetics of The Berkeley Museum of Art, BAM.)