Karen and I had a chance to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art's special exhibition of the work of the House of Chanel yesterday. The exhibition was magnificent. I'm awed whenever I have the opportunity to see the work of a genius, and Coco Chanel definitely deserves that label. I can't begin to describe the ways in which she influenced the world of fashion; but her impact on women's clothing is only a small part of her overall importance for 20th century culture. Her image of femininity, powerful use of symbols and persistent variation of icons set the tone for a series of social and design innovations that are still reverberating today. The brilliant, albeit unrelentingly peculiar, Karl Lagerfeld then took up this thread and once again demonstrated the variety of ways in which deeply familiar elements can be brought to life by artistic imagination.
Which brings me to this:
Leaving the Chanel exhibition, we came upon this truck across the street from the Met. It was awesome. A trash behemoth. It's size was impressive, but other garbage trucks match it. What stopped me in my tracks was the attention that its owner had paid to its appearance. This was clearly no ordinary garbage truck.
First of all, it's owned by a company which proudly displays its unique name on the truck's belly; "Phase 1 Demolition."
So, this is no ordinary "garbage truck"; this is a truck specifically designated to address the consequences of "demolition."
But these folks weren't content to stop at that. They had a good deal more to say about this vehicle's meaning and mission.
I know it's hard to make out all the details from this photo. For instance, those two figures in the upper right hand corner of the truck's main cargo compartment are, in fact, "Dr. Evil" and "Mini Me."
Stop and think with me for a moment about this question: "who is the person who" chooses to paint the visages of two prominent late 20th century cinematic figures on the side of a trash-hauling vehicle? Thinking about that one'll keep you busy for a while!
And why do these characters appear? Their intent is revealed in the caption that accompanies their images: "Evil Minds" it says above, "That Plot Destruction," below. So, the pictures form a kind of fictitious corporate self-portrait (like, say, The Michelin Man) saying, "Here we are, owners of Phase 1 Demolition; people who relish the idea of thinking about ways to charge you premium rates to destroy all that you own, and then haul it all away."
But this artiste wasn't done. No, no; this vehicle carries still other messages. Barely legible on the upper front fender (above the blue flames!) is what I can only assume to be the company's motto: "Destruction With Descretion." "We destroy things, but we are sensitive to the possible negative implications of conducting this grotesque activity."
Finally, emblazoned on what can only be called the truck's front shield (the baffle above the radiator) is what I take to be a kind of personal mission statement, a simple message from this solitary artist to everyone who scurries out of the path of this rolling, roaring miracle: "Dream Into Action"!
A garbage truck that entreats us to never forget our dreams. How remarkable.
What I know is this. If at that moment, Coco and Karl had seen this singular vehicle, they would have smiled and thought: "here is a kindred spirit; here is someone who understands the importance of making every moment, every detail, count; one who recognizes that hope, beauty and humor come in all shapes, sizes, and guises."
Quite a day at the Met.
Great post! Always a cause for rejoicing when you venture into the world of zombies and find the living. We are thankful for designers who bring their creative and expressive best, but I felt my biggest smile arrive as you told us of Phase 1 Demolition.
Posted by: Michael | June 25, 2005 at 11:26 AM
Thank you, Michael. "Finding the living in the world of zombies," is a great, great line!
Posted by: Tom | June 25, 2005 at 11:34 AM
Just goes to show you that creativity and design have no boundaries other than the ones we structure. Isn't it pretty much about trusting your instincts and self expression?
Sounds as though the demolition man would be an interesting person to meet. Just like Coco, there are probably some intriguing aspects to this guy and what inspired him.
Great story Tom!
Posted by: violette | June 25, 2005 at 08:25 PM
Thank Tom regarding the zombies! It is one of the themes in my presentations that connects. Marketplace zombies don't like being zombies - some times they wish they could join the land of the living - and the good news is that they can.
Picking up on Violette's comment; wouldn't it be fun to do a video comparing and contrasting the living and the zombies we find in the marketplace? Interviewing the "demolition man" would be a hoot!
Keep creating, Mike
Posted by: Michael | June 26, 2005 at 11:09 PM
Thank Tom regarding the zombies! It is one of the themes in my presentations that connects. Marketplace zombies don't like being zombies - some times they wish they could join the land of the living - and the good news is that they can.
Picking up on Violette's comment; wouldn't it be fun to do a video comparing and contrasting the living and the zombies we find in the marketplace? Interviewing the "demolition man" would be a hoot!
Keep creating, Mike
Posted by: Michael | June 26, 2005 at 11:09 PM
Mike, you're brilliant! very creative!!!
Just think..."Street Scenes/Seen on the Street Today." Great little spot that could be syndicated in lots o' cities. Then there's the book, reminds me of Landmark Diners and Neon Art. I'll do the Southern cities. Pick a region.
I like it.
violette
Posted by: violette | June 27, 2005 at 09:47 PM
I love it too, Mike. We always want to interview the "live wires," but talking to the "walking dead" is informative, as well.
Posted by: Tom | June 28, 2005 at 12:07 PM
Violette and Tom,
Thanks for the feedback! Somehow Paul Simon's lyrics keep playing in my mind as I think about the living and the zombies:
And after it rains
There’s a rainbow
And all of the colors are black
It’s not that the colors aren’t there
It’s just imagin-ation they lack
Everything’s the same
Back in my little town
Nothing but the dead and dying
Back in my little town
Nothing but the dead and dying
Back in my little town
Keep creating, Mike
Posted by: Michael | June 30, 2005 at 01:31 PM
Wow. That's perfect, Thank you,Mike!
violette
Posted by: violette | June 30, 2005 at 04:18 PM
I'm struck by how relevant those lyrics are to the post I just finished, "I Know This Much Is True."
Thanks, Mike.
Posted by: Tom | June 30, 2005 at 04:24 PM
Tom, I have to tell your blog is a delightful gift. And I agree that those lyrics line up pretty well with I Know This Much Is True. Since I grew up in a little town (Columbus, Nebraska) and currently live in a relatively little town (Des Moines, Iowa) Simon's words have been something of a challenge to me; not to give into the "black rainbow point of view". Of course THAT perspective is not limited to a small town. Keep creating, Mike
And Violette, the Southern cities are yours, but I still want to visit them. I'll be in Atlanta in August for a presentation - I'll keep my eyes open for the living!
Posted by: Michael | June 30, 2005 at 11:27 PM
Right, Michael
Good luck looking for the living in Atlanta...especially in the Buckhead area!!!
Atlanta is my hometown. Have you ever visited here before? Very interesting city. It's homebase for herd mentality.
Can't wait to hear your take on Zombie spottings in the big A...one car in three is a black BMW.
BTW let me know if you need recommendations for places to stay, restaurants, etc. while you're here.
violette
Posted by: violette | July 01, 2005 at 12:36 AM
Violette - your email does not appear to be right. I will be the guest of Georgia's rural electric cooperatives in August and will be speaking at their Touchstone Energy University on the subject of living the brand.
Posted by: Michael | July 01, 2005 at 12:28 PM