The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet

I seem to have fallen out of the habit of regularly reviewing books on my blog. I used to be more disciplined about it, and there is a series of reviews on the minouette blog (and here), including the one below for one of my favorite books of the last several years. I've also mentioned The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet on magpie&whiskeyjack, comparing the whimsical maps and scientific illustration of everything incorporated into the work of artist Simon Evans with those of the more strictly empirical modern-day Humboltian cartography protegy Spivet. If you, like me, are inspired by the fertile intersection of art and science, this is a novel for you. You should go read it right away, because as I was very pleased to read this morning, Jean-Pierre Jeunet (director of Amelie, or Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain in French) has adapted the novel for a movie to be released in France (filmed in English, with French subtitles) in October.



The Selected Works of T.S. Spivet by Reif Larsen

Reading this novel I thought, yes, this is what I want to do all the time. Why can't I just get paid to read books like this? I would be happy doing this indefinitely. Of course, are there books like this one? That is a harder question to answer. Tecumseh Sparrow Spivet (best. name. ever.) is a gifted prodigy in cartography at 12 years old. He lives on a ranch near Divide, Montana, with his mother, stalled entomologist, Dr. Clair, his teenage sister, Gracie, who would love to escape their small town and peculiar family, and strong-silent cowboy father T.E. Spivet. His brother Layton, has died, and we slowly learn more. T.S. keeps different coloured notebooks for maps of people doing things: zoological, geological, and topographical maps; and insect anatomy (should Dr. Clair ever call on his help), respectively. T.S. learns he has won the prestigious Baird Award from the Smithsonian, for his incredible mapping and scientific illustration work, and his adventure begins, as he decides to accept in person, but being 12, he sees his best means of transport as to hop on a freight train and hobo east. In this beautiful, whimsically illustrated book, T.S. maps everything from the Continental divide, to beetle subspecies, to cowboy moves, to facial expressions, to geology, to how McDonald's "penetrates my permeable barrier of aesthetic longing", to concentration of litter in Chicago, to his family history, to a many-worlds interpretation of quantum mechanics and what this might have meant for his family. This book is beautiful, in terms of the sensitivity and originality of the story (Wormholes of the Midwest! the hobo hotline?), the love of knowledge expressed, down to the layout of the text and images on the page. Maybe we will be lucky enough to be recruited into the Megatherium club. The manner in which this child's mind breaks up the world is a reminder of why science is wonderful and the joy of unfettered thinking. The story is also interwoven with that of T.S.' ancestors, including his great-grandmother the early geologist. We get both 'when science was young' and 'the young scientist'.

Maybe I'll go reread it myself now.  (cross-posted to minouette)

Butterflies are the new pirates

As a corollary to my insects in art posts, I note that an entire post could easily be devoted to butterflies and moths in art - even if I limit this to artists not mentioned in previous butterfly posts. I believe that butterflies are the new pirates. They've become as ubiquitous as other memes (pirates, zombies, vampires, even if far less bloody). I confess, I've been trying to start my own meme with the phrase, "butterflies are the new pirates" as a sort of experiment (and thus far, had no luck). It nonetheless amuses me, hence, the title. But, enough of that. On with the butterfly art!

Artist Louise Richardson often covers her fibre and sculptural art with moths and butterflies.


Key of E flat by Louise Richardson


Spell bound by Louise Richardson


Nettle by Louise Richardson
(↬ a billion taste and tunes)

Similarly, swarms of butterflies show up in the work of sculptor, painter, and animator, David Kracov.

Book of Life by David Kracov

Coca Cola Open Happiness by David Kracov

Indianapolis-based artist Tasha Lewis has made magnetized cyanotype butterflies - a brilliant solution for non-destructive, grafitti-like installations. She writes,

Each installation was spontaneously arranged on iron and steel structures in urban spaces. I find it important to insist that this project does not promote tampering with public sculpture. My butterflies are attached with very very small magnets and thus do not harm the metal of the found art. My goal is to create a very ephemeral public spectacle that toeing the line between subversive and lyrical.

There is much more art to be found in her portfolio.

Source: thisiscolossal.com via minouette on Pinterest

 Magnetized Cyanotype Butterfly Installations by Tasha Lewis

Source: thisiscolossal.com via minouette on Pinterest

 Magnetized Cyanotype Butterfly Installations by Tasha Lewis

Source: tashalewis.info via minouette on Pinterest

 Magnetized Cyanotype Butterfly Installations by Tasha Lewis

(↬ this is colossal)

Illustrating Science

I just saw a preview for The Where, the Why, and the How: 75 Artists Illustrate the Wondrous Mysteries of the Universe (Chronicle Books, 2012) by Matt Lamote, Julia Rothman, and Jenny Volvovskim who collaborated with a collection of scientists who wrote essays on a series of questions of science and a collection of 75 artists and illustrators who illustrated each question. They specifically gave artists free reign to represent the science as literally or imaginatively as they desired. At left is a fairly literal illustration by Isaac Tobin relating to whether earthquakes are predictable.

Yelena Bryksenkova's illustration for "the peppered moth, which changed color over several generations in response to industrial pollution in london" in answer to the question of whether evolution can outpace climate change.

Matt Forsythe's illustration for the question, "If humans and chimps have nearly identical DNA, how can we be so different?"

Gilbert Ford's illustration for why people blush.

Lotta Nieminen's illustration of latitudinal patterns in species diversity.

JooHee Yoon's illustration for "why do we dream?"

I really like the idea of combining the reasonably strict "scientific illustration" shown on the cover with more artistic freedom (as long as it's clearly the goal, as it is here). Sometimes scientific illustration is less than true to the science not because it uses a metaphoric artistic language, but because there's been some sort of break down in communication; that of course, is not something I appreciate (except, occasionally, because it's funny). Often concepts in science cannot be illustrated in a literal way without highly technical diagrams and associated education to 'read' these diagrams. Occassionally scientists wax poetic in their language, to handle communicating the difficult-to-communicate. Rarely, are they afforded a chance to be figurative in their figures (or work with artists to do so). Between that and the line up of illustrators, I think I would like to get my hands on this book. After all, science, art and books are three of my favorite things.

(↬design*sponge)

Literature as Fashion

Yes. I would like to dress as a library... or the content of the books.


IQ DRESS by zero + maria cornejo (via The Doree Chronicles)


Brontë Dress by La Casita de Wendy


Heathcliff Coat by La Casita de Wendy (via Bloessem)

the book problem

This one is just true.



Comic by Grant Snider via drawn.

Living in the vertical: NYC, 1912

Illustrations and some text from The Rocket Book by Peter Newell, published by Harper & Brothers, 1912, in New York, of course [from The Library of Congress via Le Divan Fumoir Bohémien].

If you have spent less time around undergraduates in physics than I, perhaps you have not witnessed a rogue rocket go through a ceiling....