This is by no means a stab at digital technology, because I definitely benefit from it way too much to even try to imagine daily life without a computer.

BUT (and this is a big “but”), I never, ever lose sight of the fact that all the work that inspires me most has been created manually. So it is hardly a coincidence that my own work is manual (click here to see how I channel my own manual OCD-impulses), and that I embrace imperfection in my own work and in that of others.
Sure, it was cute-slash-interesting to learn that David Hockney is embracing the wonders of the Adobe Creative Suite (see NYT 10-18-2008), but the man is a wise and experienced artist, and can do nothing wrong at this point. And I completely understand how convenient it all is, and how it can speed up the sketching phase, or a lay-out, and I know first hand how using photoshop can prevent wasting days of trying stuff by hand. And that’s great…

But having said all that, there is nothing like the human touch, revealing the human mind at work. Would you be able to stare at, and meditate on a small Ellsworth Kelly or a Myron Stout for an hour if it had been made in photoshop and was spit out by a printer? No? Exactly, I didn’t think so. When the hand executes a decision that was wordlessly made by the creative brain, magic can happen. When it is executed by a computer program, not so much.

So consider this my manifesto for 2010: More silk screens made by hand, photo shoots with laughably low production values (if any), face to face interviews, more glue, exacto knifes, torn paper, 50 collages gone wrong that need to be tossed, in order to have 3 good ones.

An on that note, made by hand, and pure as freshly fallen January snow, please find examples of what I’m talking about:

A 1957 plaster showcase of Clarendon, by Elaine Lustig, (yes, I’m beginning to sound like one of those Lustig-fanatics I wrote about here). I could look at this for hours, which probably reveals too much about A) my mental health and B) my productivity level.

A 1959 paper cut piece by Ernst Röttger, all you’re looking at is an idea, oh excuse me, I mean “concept”, a piece of white paper and the work of two hands and an exacto knife.

And finally, two 1965 pieces by Giovanni Pintori, the genius behind Olivetti’s identity. I love how the curve to the left on the J brings it a little too close to the I too fast. That is the kind of imperfection that gets me off. And if you can achieve that on the computer, congratulations!