The Japanese Lantern Ketubah

It's been a while... I find it difficult to summarize my life thus far. I moved into an 1889 Portland Alberta Arts District Victorian until California came calling. I am now in Marin County perched upon a hilltop . No longer residing amidst bars, coffee shops and perpetual multiplying of bespectacled hipsters, I now find myself surrounded by fruit trees and baby boomers. A different life. Creating art is the only constant. Much of my focus on Ketubah, I find refuge in creating illustrations based on Art Deco and Art Nouveau sensibilities. I find solace in the minute movements of the calligraphy pen and in the sheer concentration (followed by instant gratification or impending doom) it takes me to ink a piece of my own artwork. Without mistake. Pictured is "The Japanese Lantern Ketubah." It is the first time I inked directly onto the paint (gouache) itself rather than containing the calligraphy to a text box. It was intensely stressful as any false move could mean disaster for a completed 22" x 30" painting. I endeavored and proved successful. The wedding was an elaborate Art Deco affair held in the stunning Edison Ballroom in Manhattan. A gorgeous affair, a beautiful couple, and, I must admit, a sense of pride in accomplishing something new. Please check out my new website: Octavine Illustration

Permanence and Transience: Cooking vs. Art

My mother is an excellent cook. She can make just about anything from Moroccan tagine to traditional pot roast. And she can cook for the masses, catering my entire wedding, my cousin's wedding and both mine and my sis's Bat Mitzvahs. Absolutely none of this talent was passed on to me. Or maybe it was but never fully realized as I hate to cook.

I like the idea of pleasing my friends, exacting their love and admiration through gastronomy; but I loathe the notion of spending time creating these pleasures. Food is temporary. Hours spent, adding a pinch of this, a spoonful of that, seem wasted on transience.

Please do not get me wrong. I love cooks. I love food. I love home cooking. I am fortunate to reap the benefits of those whose creativity is ignited by food, whom are impassioned by the combination of spices, the grouping of flavors.

My art, however, is born out of a yearning for permanence. I screen print my images so they will last for centuries to come rather than using a computer to lifelessly copy my work. I hand-paint my cards so they are kept; records of a time and place serving as personal histories. The notion that what I create may last lifetimes excites me and serves to motivate.

But a good meal is remembered. I will never forget the calamari in Turkey or the steak in Belgium or my mother's homemade grapeleaves. And that recollection I pass on to others, as I do now. Thus cooking is not momentary, rather the memory intangible.

Thus I present Bouillon Kub (my homage, painted in gouache on wood, to the original bouillon cube packaging in France circa 1920 and, from what I understand, still used today) to all the amazing cooks out there. May your food be forever remembered.

My Art Deco Wedding

I have weddings on the brain. Working on marriage contracts (Ketubah) as well as various Art Deco inspired wedding invitations invokes visions of my own 1930s style wedding.

Executing my own Art Deco style invitations by hand influenced by a perfume bottle ca. 1925, I sought to create a unique invitation based on an Art Deco aesthetic.

Held at the Albuquerque Press Club, a rambling log mansion built in the 1880s by the architect of the Santa Fe Railroad, it stands in the middle of the city on a hill, minutes from downtown Albuquerque and my childhood home. An urban architectural gem, hidden from the freeway and old Route 66 by centuries old elm trees, it now serves as the local watering-hole for members of the press.

Both my dress and my shoes were ca. 1930. A simple sheath with a goddess neckline and a long lace panelled train, my gown took little in the way of preparation.



My betrothed wore a tuxedo from a Fifth Avenue tailor dated 1925. With tails, a separate collar for a shirt that buttoned down the back, two sets of cuff-links as well as two-part vest and high waisted silk-stripe pants, his ensemble was terribly complicated and took two people to dress him. He told me he felt like a monkey on show, and I told him to just deal, he would never have to do this again. After all, we were creating a scene, a mood, a time of old romance and sophistication.

With over 300 people, total chaos ensued. With rooms off of rooms off of rooms and stairways that led nowhere, hidden patios and terraces, the Press Club that night had the quality of a debaucherous wild Old West saloon with people dancing, singing and creating a night of revelry not to soon be forgotten.

My 1902 Victorian

My house was built in 1902. As Queen Victoria died in 1901, I suppose it is officially an Edwardian, but just on the cusp. Made from a kit, it is the mirror image of the house next door, although time and various paint jobs, add-ons and decorating schemes now create quite a dissimilar appearance.

With both a sun porch and a mudroom (a necessary little porch frequently used throughout winter for galoshes and dirty dog towels), it is cozy and filled with light:


The back door has a doorbell I believe used for deliveries by the local milkman from
the dairy that used to be down the block (now a gourmet grocery).

On the the front curb there are small rings used to tie up one's course whilst visiting neighbors. Our garage could have easily doubled as a stable.

The attic contains various worn leather suitcases traveled to exotic locales more than a century ago.

There are channels built in to house pocket doors used to open the parlor only for "company."

The kitchen counter has a bottlecap opener built in and our original full Victorian bar matches the formal dining area so nicely (moved to Portland from two different aparments in the San Francisco Bay Area including a third floor walk-up) and provides a shelving unit for a full two-turntable DJ setup.


This tribute to my home occurs as my roses bloom, my raspberry bush blossoms and my grape arbor buds. There's no place like home.

Pictured is my tribute to summer--bare legs and a skirt with cute shoes to match, Edwardian style. Maybe she walked through my house almost 100 years ago....

Art Deco and The Rock Star

When I was seventeen my ten best friends and I (all of whom I am still in close contact with, strangely enough) saw Tori Amos on her Little Earthquakes tour. She was so beautiful. An ethereal red-headed song fairy with a punch not easily missed.

Fifteen years later, Tori is still touring. Now with four other personae to accompany her (I chose the blonde 1920s Art Deco jazz-singer beauty, "Santa" to portray in this concert poster), she has matured--no longer so tortured, no longer as angry.

When asked to execute the illustration for this concert poster at the fancy-pants Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall in Portland, Oregon, I put an enormous amount of pressure on the design of this poster: my expectations too high, my thoughts too grand. I wanted to recreate the excitement I felt as a seventeen year old girl, to encapsulate my adolescent tragic sense of self, yet make for an eye-catching poster.

I must say, I no longer listen to Tori, except for a few songs (Leather, Silent All These Years, Cornflake Girl) that take me back to another era entirely.

The fonts are hand-wrought and of my own design and the illustration based on Tori herself (but not as herself).

Elegance in the Kitchen

I hate cooking. But I love cooking accessories. I collect Le Creuset not because it is top of the line cookware, but rather its beautiful colors and 1920s design. Same with a Kitchenaid. I wouldn't even know how to turn the thing on nor do I care to really learn, but I'm saving up for the mixer in tangerine, because I love anything tangerine.

Over the summer I picked up a seafoam green Sunbeam hand-mixer from a garage sale. It works fantastic, but I simply enjoy its chrome and steel classic Cadillac retro aesthetic.

This passion for vintage kitchen accessories afforded me the notion to screenprint my Art Deco style original images onto cotton kitchen aprons. Sold at craft fairs throughout the Pacific Northwest, aprons by Octavine Illustration have proven a great seller. Although these aprons are highly practical, wearable and washable, I have had more than a few customers who buy the Art Deco style aprons simply to hang in their kitchens. Not to cook with, but rather as a display. These are customers after my own heart.

The cotton kitchen apron pictured is hand screen-printed using my original Art Deco image "Les Filles Veulent Juste Avoir l'Amusement" (Girls Just Want to Have Fun) and is available through my Etsy shop.

Paris from High

I imagine a drizzly spring afternoon in Paris circa 1934. She's a movie star or maybe a dancer. Something glamorous. Although naked, her lazily draped cloak gives a bit of warmth. She is not unhappy as the hurried boulevard beneath provides solace. The terrace of the grand hotel is aged; the wrought iron rusted.
No matter, she is beautiful and a dancer, or maybe a movie star. Something glamorous.

Painted with gouache on a very cold day in NE Portland, Oregon.

An Art Deco Explosion

When I first moved to Portland it was November and we were subletting an apartment with little insulation nor finished flooring.

The cold air seeped into every nook; every cranny touched by an almost Artic chill. One room was kept heated. Using reruns of Perry Mason as ambient noise, I painted and painted and painted.

The time spent there was my most prolific.

Constructing an entire series out of one word titles and beautiful women, I chose my favorites to be screenprinted. Eventually a few designs out of a large pile (piles are the measure of all things) were screenprinted onto tees, totes, aprons, prints, cards and journals.

The title "Explosive" is both French and English. The style Art Deco but the fashion 1960s mod London.

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

The Roaring '20s.

One of my favorite illustrations, this Art Deco style screenprint blends the 1920s with 1980s. Translating Cyndi Lauper's seminal 1980s hit "Girls Just Want to Have Fun" into French and adding a whimsical Art Deco illustration of bathing beauties made for an interesting juxtaposition of two distinct eras.

Girls Just Want to Have Fun
Original Art Deco style screenprint.
Signed and numbered.

Please see my Etsy shop for further details.

http://www.octavineillustration.etsy.com

Fin de siècle

Fin de siècle France is perhaps my greatest inspiration. The lines between commercial art and fine art were distinctly blurred as the industrial economy grew and advertising, executed manually, supported fine artists directly.




















Out of the marriage between commercial art and fine art, handmade and manufactured was born Art Nouveau. The French lead the way.

I love the streamlined organic form and limited color palette of the Art Nouveau movement in France.

This is one of the more spectacular examples of Art Nouveau furniture and is one of my many muses from the Musée d'Orsay in Paris.

The painting above is one of my latest. The painting derives its inspiration primarily from the French Art Nouveau movement.

A Little Attitude

This image is one of my most popular designs. Modeled on a conglomeration of old fashion photos, this was actually one of my first full size paintings. This print, available on my Etsy shop, favors the 1950s with an Art Deco flair. Modern yet restrained. Sophisticated yet sassy.

It was one of four illustrations I had silk-screened onto professional chefs aprons. The aprons are all gone but the images remain.

I do not sell my originals. Partly because I could never part with one, but mostly because I do not trust digital technology enough to ensure its survival. To me art must be real, something that can be touched.

I think it important that the origin of a piece of art also be organic (Of course that then begs the question "What is Art?". But I digress, I'll leave that to the academics.). There is something about purely digital art that is harsh on the eye. I have a difficult time watching CGI movies or cartoons drawn digitally as they have little natural flow.

It is no wonder I prefer Art Deco stylings, Art Nouveau decoration and Craftsman simplicity--crave the antique rather than seek the modern.