
Did you know:
“I made a decision back in 1978 that, in a trade off for money when I directed Halloween, I would have my name above the title in order to basically brand these movies my own.” –John Carpenter

Did you know:
“I made a decision back in 1978 that, in a trade off for money when I directed Halloween, I would have my name above the title in order to basically brand these movies my own.” –John Carpenter





Monday, Monica and I were commuting home from work– by the time we hit the North Shore, we decided a visit to the Graceland Cemetery, known for its architectural treasures would be fitting for fall, Halloween– and the fact that we’re very curious ladies.
I like architecture. It takes second place to film, but a very tight second place. Whenever I tire of Chicago, I think about our buildings and I’m revived. My architectural preoccupation came while I was studying at Northwestern. I had taken a course on Chicago architecture and on day one, our professor and preservationist showed us the WTTW documentary on Richard Nickel. My friend Lubomir was trying to console me in class because by the time the piece had faded to black I was in tears.
After that I headed to work at the Chicago Architecture Foundation and was there the year they opened a Richard Nickel exhibition following Richard Cahan’s stunning book. While I try to refrain from comment on what CAF had become at the governing level, I can only say it is such a vast departure from its roots– that I found an irony in the exhibition choices of that year.
As Monica and I rounded the curve of the lake at the cemetery I saw the number denoting Mies van der Rohe on my map.
“Less is more. No, less is less, ” said Monica.
“I’d like to punch that guy in the face,” I said.
So let this be a testament to where my aesthetic loyalty lies. We headed home and drove the line where Clark Street becomes Chicago Avenue in Evanston. I saw the boxes and glass and steel horizon in front of me.
“I’d like to punch that guy in the face.”

I Am Analog/ Gabriel Ricioppo
Today I lunched with my pal Frank Youngwerth to talk about potentially scoring a documentary I’m working on. The first thing I learned at 137, is do something amazing– and the amazing feat they pulled off was getting Kate Simko to score a science documentary. Who scores a science documentary for PBS? 137 does. You can check it out here. I mean it’s so easy to just have a royalty free music party on a doc because of funds, because maybe the subject matter doesn’t warrant a soundtrack. Not so.
Frank and I met while we were working for Giant Chicago Touring Organization That Likes Architecture. We were eating our brown bag lunches in the break room when I probably mumbled something about Joy Division or the Talking Heads or Byrne and Eno– I don’t know anymore. I spend a lot of time thinking about music, so does Frank, crazy antics ensue.
So Frank makes the musical rounds, never quite settling on any genre. Sometimes he’s (literally) tooting his own horn (trumpet) at The Green Mill. Sometimes he’s producing house music. Sometimes he’s wailing into a mic about a Marriage in Sputnik (well before I was born.) So, I thought I’d tell you, dear reader– to get out there and meet Frank.
You can check out his lecture on Louis Sullivan and Louis Armstrong below:
Louis Sullivan and Louis Armstrong: Jazz, Architecture and American Culture (Dec. 2, 2009)
Frank Youngwerth, musician, historian and CAF docent, creator of the “Louis Sullivan Lost and Found” walking tour
Beyond designing great buildings, Louis Sullivan expressed a vision in which America would fulfill its democratic promise through the cultivation of its own art forms. An individual who successfully carried out this vision is jazz trumpeter Louis Armstrong. This illustrated talk with musical examples considers the fascinating lives and works of each Louis as he relates to the other.
Or visit his record shop online.