weather
I wouldn't have thought that a bit of Thanksgiving travel could teach me so much about the regional differences among watershapes, but what now seems obvious came as something of a jolt to me. My youngest daughter has a new job in Philadelphia and couldn't get away. Someone suggested we should
cFloat (Berkeley, CA) has introduced its cFloat system – a floating bouy, an in-home unit…
I had a friend many years ago who tried in vain to persuade me to visit Detroit. She'd grown up there, and despite the city's many problems, she still harbored the born-and-raised view that her home town had so many virtues that simply seeing the place would be enough to win me over.
I never made the expansive sightseeing trip she'd always urged me to take - no time for that! But as it turned out, I did manage a short visit not long ago when my flight back from Canada and through Detroit was late enough that I missed my connection to Los Angeles. Making matters worse, it was a weather-related problem and I was far from alone in needing to find both accommodations for the night and another way home.
Long story short, I stayed the night in a downtown hotel, and the earliest flight I could book the next day was late in the afternoon. I'd wanted to see Isamu Noguchi's famous Horace E. Dodge & Son Memorial Fountain for a long time, and this was my opportunity: I had breakfast and ventured forth.
Nothing worked out on that gray, miserable January day: The weather was horrid, the hotel wasn't convenient to the riverfront plaza where the fountain stands so imposingly, and, topping things off, the whole plaza had been rendered inactive by vandals who had raided its maintenance facilities to scrounge the copper plumbing. So the fountain was as dry as a wet, near-freezing day would let it be and my whole accidental visit was a colossal bust.
As a sculpture, however, Noguchi's 1978 tribute to the industrial prowess embodied by one of auto manufacturing's leading families is vastly impressive. It's sometimes said that it looks like a gigantic wingnut, but the comparison is unkind and serves, unfairly I think, to undermine the composition's dignity, grandeur and symbolic strength. And it does stand 30 feet tall, with its fountain basin surrounded by an eight-foot-tall, granite-ringed structure that conceals the nozzles and lends an air of mystery to the fountain works.
Apparently there's also a choreographed light display that animates the fountain's surface after dark - again, not something I saw on my visit but which looks awesome in photographs (and in the brief video linked here).
All is not sad or lost: I was happy to learn in rounding up images to accompany this text that the fountain is operational again and has had its lighting system upgraded with modern LED and sequencing technology. But I have still only seen the functioning plaza and its various features in photographs: What I recall most is a chill wind so penetrating and miserable that I wondered why I'd ever left the airport.
Better luck next time?
Working on the road can be tough. As was discussed in the first of this pair of articles (click here), it can get even rougher when you're working on a cliff in a remote area and have been asked to build a big watershape in a place where all sorts of environmental rules and restrictions apply and there are also plenty of easy-to-upset neighbors. I thought we were ready for all contingencies as we prepared ourselves, the design, the plans, the permits and the site. I was even prepared to deal with the half-load restrictions imposed to protect thawing
Several years back, the luxury car maker Lexus described its corporate mission as the relentless pursuit of perfection, and I'm willing to step up and say that working with glass tile on the shapely, detailed interior surfaces of swimming pools and spas is just that sort of pursuit. That's not saying we hit the mark with placement of every single piece of tile across surfaces that frequently cover thousands of square feet, but we have
I’ve been a fanatical WaterShapes reader from the very beginning, drawn not only by the cool projects but also by its publication of columns and features written by people who actually had experience in the field. Sometimes I love those writers, sometimes they bug the daylights out of me – but always, I appreciate getting information right from the source. And I can’t recall ever having come away from reading WaterShapes without being inspired: pushed to think outside my comfort zone and, more important, convinced it’s always, always best to
Quite often, my clients will preface our design discussions with the statement that they want to see flowers in bloom throughout the year. They just hate it, they say, when the garden looks "bare" from December to February. In my opinion, they're just not seeing the possibilities their gardens have to offer. In fact, winter is my favorite time of the year, and it's about more than the holidays, the gift giving (and receiving!) and the chilly temperatures: Mainly, it's about my love affair with winterscapes. It may be because I'm a northeasterner somewhere deep inside, but I love the fact that colder climates, with their snow and other weather inclemencies, require those with gardens to
