a very curious fellow. He would spend hours observing the plants Bruno Munari drawing a tree. WORKSHOP. The books in the new Workshop series describe. For Drawing a Tree, Bruno Munari proposes: "When drawing a tree, always remember Read Online Bruno Munari: Drawing a Tree (About the Workshop pdf. design and the media have changed bruno munari: drawing a tree (about the workshop method of lightness is not lightness. uber den heiligen geist pdf ebook.
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Bruno Munari Drawing A Tree Printed Matter - [PDF] [EPUB] Bruno Munari Drawing A Tree. Printed Matter -. Bruno Munari Drawing A Tree Printed Matter. Bruno Munari Drawing A Tree About The Workshop Series - [PDF] [EPUB] Bruno Munari. Drawing A Tree About The Workshop Series Italy. For Drawing a Tree, Bruno Munari proposes: "When drawing a tree, always remember that every branch is more slender than the one that came before.
From this point it is practically inevitable that we should end up with paintings that are all of one colour Klein. This version of the story is rather compressed, but these at any rate are the essential stages in the disappearance of the old categories in art.
Eventually the picture is punctured, slashed or burnt alive Fontana, Burri , and this is the last farewell to techniques that no longer had anything to say to modern man. The artists of today are busily looking for something that will once again interest the people of today, distracted as they are by a multitude of visual stimuli all clamouring for their attention.
If you go to an art exhibition today you may see very simple objects that are so huge that they fill the whole room, some based on statics and others on kinetics. You will find stainless steel used in conjunction with seagull droppings, laminated plastics of every conceivable kind, rigid or inflatable transparent plastic, bits of scrap metal soldered together, and live animals. The artist wants to make the viewer participate at all costs. He is looking for a point of contact, and he wants to sell his works of art in the chain stores just like any other commercial article, stripped of its mystery and at a reasonable price.
But what is at the bottom of this anxiety that drives artists to abandon safe traditional techniques and certain markets, and to sell mass-produced articles in shops and not in galleries? It is probably the desire to get back into society, to re-establish contact with their neighbours, to create an art for everyone and not just for the chosen few with bags of money.
Artists want to recover the public that has long ago deserted the art galleries, and to break the closed circle of Artist Dealer Critic Gallery Collector. They want to destroy the myth of the Great Artist, of the enormously costly Masterpiece, of the one and only unique divine Thing. They have realized that at the present time subjective values are losing their importance in favour of objective values that can be understood by a greater number of people.
And if the aim is to mass-produce objects for sale to a wide public at low price, then it becomes a problem of method and design. The artist has to regain the modesty he had when art was just a trade, and instead of despising the very public he is trying to interest he must discover its needs and make contact with it again.
This is the reason why the traditional artist is being transformed into the designer, and as I myself have undergone this transformation in the course of my working career I can say that this book of mine is also a kind of diary in which I try to see the why and wherefore of this metamorphosis. That was the time when the movement called the novecento italiano ruled the roost, with its High Court of super-serious masters, and all the art magazines spoke of nothing else but their granitic artistic productions; and everyone laughed at me and my useless machines.
They laughed all the harder because my machines were made of cardboard painted in plain colours, and sometimes a glass bubble, while the whole thing was held together with the frailest of wooden rods and bits of thread. They had to be light so as to turn with the slightest movement of the air, and the thread was just the thing to prevent them getting twisted up.
But all my friends rocked with laughter, even those I most admired for the energy they put into their own work. Nearly all of them had one of my useless machines at home, but they kept them in the childrens rooms because they were absurd and practically worthless, while their sitting-rooms were adorned with the sculpture of Marino Marini and paintings by Carr and Sironi. Certainly, in comparison with a painting by Sironi, scored deeply by the lions claw of feeling, I with my thread and cardboard could hardly expect to be taken seriously.
Then these friends of mine discovered Alexander Calder, who was making mobiles; but his things were made of iron and painted black or some stunning colour.
Calder triumphed in our circle, and I came to be thought of as his imitator. What is the difference between my useless machines and Calders mobiles? I think it is best to make this clear, for apart from the different materials the methods of construction are also quite distinct.
They have only two things in common: both are suspended and both gyrate. But there are thousands of suspended objects and always have been, and I might point out that my friend Calder himself had a precursor in Man Ray, who in made an object on exactly the same principles later used by Calder. There is a harmonic relationship between all the parts which go to make up a useless machine. Let us suppose that we start with a glass ball, marked A in the illustration.
The diameter of this disc determines the other two geometric forms B and 2B the one being just double the other. The backs of these forms are painted as the negatives of the fronts. The wooden rods to which the shapes are attached are also measured in relation to the diameter of the ball: 3A, 5A and 6A. The whole thing is then balanced up and hung on a piece of thread. Mobiles are by nature different. The inspiration for them seems to be drawn from the vegetable kingdom.
One might say that Calder was the first sculptor of trees.
There are plenty of sculptors of figures and animals, but trees in the sense of living things that oscillate, with branches of progressive dimensions and with leaves on the branches, these had never been done. Take a branch with its leaves still on and you are looking at a mobile by Calder. They have the same principle, the same movement, the same dynamic behaviour.
Design as Art (Bruno Munari)
But the pieces of a useless machine all turn upon themselves and in respect to each other without touching. Their basis is geometrical, while the two differently coloured faces give a variety of colour-effects as the forms turn. People have often wondered how the idea originated, and here is the answer.
In they were painting the first abstract pictures in Italy, and these were nothing more than coloured geometric shapes or spaces with no reference at all to visible nature. Very often these abstract paintings were still lives of geometric forms done in realistic style.
They used to say that Morandi made abstract pictures by using bottles and vases as formal pretexts. The subject of a Morandi canvas is in fact not the bottles, but painting enclosed within those spaces. Bottles or triangles were therefore the same thing, and the painting emerged from the relationships of its forms and colours. Now I myself thought that instead of painting triangles and other geometrical forms within the atmosphere of an oblong picture for this look at Kandinsky was still essentially realistic it would perhaps be interesting to free these forms from the static nature of a picture and to hang them up in the air, attached to each other in such a way as to live with us in our own surroundings, sensitive to the atmosphere of real life, to the air we breathe.
And so I did. I cut out the shapes, gave them harmonic relationships to one another, calculated the distances between them, and painted their backs the part one never sees in a picture in a different way so that as they turned they would form a variety of combinations. I made them very light and used thread so as to keep them moving as much as possible. Whether or not Calder started from the same idea, the fact is that we were together in affirming that figurative art had passed from two or at the most three dimensions to acquire a fourth: that of time.
Other types of useless machine designed in the period and made of balsawood, cardboard and thread. Some were made of flexible wire and wooden rods.
The components were always tied together with thread. The wire gave a special springiness to the wooden rods. A useless machine which was mass-produced in aluminum The name useless machine lends itself to many interpretations.
I intended these objects to be thought of as machines because they were made of a number of movable parts fixed together. Indeed, the famous lever, which is only a bar of wood or iron or other material, is nevertheless a machine, even if a rudimentary one. They are useless because unlike other machines they do not produce goods for material consumption, they do not eliminate labor, nor do they increase capital. Some people declared that on the contrary they were extremely useful because they produced goods of a spiritual kind images, aesthetic sense, the cultivation of taste, kinetic information, etc.
Others confused these useless machines, which belong to the world of aesthetics, with the comic machines I invented during my student days with the sole purpose of making my friends laugh. These comic machines were later published by Einaudi in a book long since out of print called Le Macchine di Munari. They were projects for strange constructions for wagging the tails of lazy dogs, for predicting the dawn, for making sobs sound musical, and many other facetious things of that kind.
They were inspired by the famous American designer Rube Goldberg, but British readers will more easily recall Heath Robinson, who was working in a similar field.
Machines would not exist without us, but our existence would no longer be possible without them. He is a planner with an aesthetic sense. Certain industrial products depend in large measure on him for their success. Nearly always the shape of a thing, be it a typewriter, a pair of binoculars, an armchair, a ventilator, a saucepan or a refrigerator, will have an important effect on sales: the better designed it is, the more it will sell.
The term designer was first used in this sense in America. It does not refer to an industrial designer, who designs machines or mechanical parts, workshops or other specialized buildings.
He is in fact a design engineer, and if he has a motor-scooter on the drawing-board he does not give a great deal of importance to the aesthetic side of things, or at the most he applies a personal idea of what a motor-scooter ought to look like. I once asked an engineer who had designed a motor-scooter why he had chosen a particular colour, and he said: because it was the cheapest. The industrial designer therefore thinks of the aesthetic side of the job as simply a matter of providing a finish, and although this may be most scrupulously done he avoids aesthetic problems that are bound up with contemporary culture because such things are not considered useful.
An engineer must never be caught writing poetry. The designer works differently. He gives the right weight to each part of the project in hand, and he knows that the ultimate form of the object is psychologically vital when the potential downloader is making up his mind. He therefore tries to give it a form as appropriate as possible to its function, a form that one might say arises spontaneously from the function, from the mechanical part when there is one , from the most appropriate material, from the most up-to-date production techniques, from a calculation of costs, and from other psychological and aesthetic factors.
In the early days of rationalism it used to be said that an object was beautiful in so far as it was functional, and only the most practical functions were taken into account. Various kinds of tool were used as evidence for this argument, such as surgical instruments. Today we do not think in terms of beauty but of formal coherence, and even the decorative function of the object is thought of as a psychological element.
For beauty in the abstract may be defined as what is called style, with the consequent need to force everything into a given style because it is new. Thus in the recent past we have had the aerodynamic style, which has been applied not only to aeroplanes and cars but to electric irons, perambulators and armchairs.
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On one occasion I even saw an aerodynamic hearse, which is about as far as the aerodynamic style can go speeding the departing guest? We have therefore discarded beauty in the abstract sense, as something stuck on to the technical part of a thing, like a stylish car body or a decoration tastefully chosen from the work of some great artist.
Instead we have formal coherence, rather as we see it in nature. A leaf has the form it has because it belongs to a certain tree and fulfils a certain function; its structure is determined by the veins which carry the sap, and the skeleton that supports it might have been worked out by mathematics.
Even so, there are many kinds of leaf, and the leaves of any single tree differ slightly among themselves. But if we saw a fig-leaf on a weeping-willow we would have the feeling that all was not well.
It would lack coherence. A leaf is beautiful not because it is stylish but because it is natural, created in its exact form by its exact function. A designer tries to make an object as naturally as a tree puts forth a leaf. He does not smother his object with his own personal taste but tries to be objective. He helps the object, if I may so put it, to make itself by its own proper means, so that a ventilator comes to have just the shape of a ventilator, a fiasco for wine has the shape that blown glass gives it, as a cat is inevitably covered with cat-fur.
Each object takes on its own form. But of course this will not be fixed and final because techniques change, new materials are discovered, and with every innovation the problem arises again and the form of the object may change. At one time people thought in terms of fine art and commercial art, pure art and applied art. So we used to have sewing-machines built by engineers and then decorated by an artist in gold and mother-of-pearl.
Now we no longer have this distinction between fine and not-fine, pure and applied. The definition of art that has caused so much confusion in recent times, and allowed so many fast ones to be pulled, is now losing its prestige. Art is once more becoming a trade, as it was in ancient times when the artist was summoned by society to make certain works of visual communication called frescoes to inform the public of a certain religious event.
Today the designer in this case the graphic designer is called upon to make a communication called a poster to inform the public of some new development in a certain field. And why is it the designer who is called upon? Why is the artist not torn from his easel? Because the designer knows about printing, about the techniques used, and he uses forms and colours according to their psychological functions. He does not just make an artistic sketch and leave it up to the printer to reproduce it as best he may.
He thinks from the start in terms of printing techniques, and it is with these that he makes his poster. The designer is therefore the artist of today, not because he is a genius but because he works in such a way as to re-establish contact between art and the public, because he has the humility and ability to respond to whatever demand is made of him by the society in which he lives, because he knows his job, and the ways and means of solving each problem of design.
And finally because he responds to the human needs of his time, and helps people to solve certain problems without stylistic preconceptions or false notions of artistic dignity derived from the schism of the arts. The form follows the function. Jean-Baptiste Lamarck The designer works in a vast sector of human activity: there is visual design, industrial design, graphic design and research design.
Visual design is concerned with images whose function is to communicate and inform visually: signs, symbols, the meaning of forms and colours and the relations between these. Industrial design is concerned with functional objects, designed according to economic facts and the study of techniques and materials.
Graphic design works in the world of the Press, of books, of printed advertisements, and everywhere the printed word appears, whether on a sheet of paper or a bottle. Research design is concerned with experiments of both plastic and visual structures in two or more dimensions. It tries out the possibilities of combining two or more dimensions, attempts to clarify images and methods in the technological field, and carries out research into images on film.
Pure and Applied Once upon a time there was pure art and applied art I prefer to use these terms, rather than fine and commercial, because commercial art does not really cover enough ground.
At all events, forms were born in secret in ivory towers and fathered by divine inspiration, and Artists showed them only to initiates and only in the shape of paintings and pieces of sculpture: for these were the only channels of communication open to the old forms of art.
Around the person of the Artistic Genius there circulated other and lesser geniuses who absorbed the Pure Forms and the Style of the Master and attempted to give these some currency by applying them to objects of everyday use. This led to the making of objects in this style or that style, and even today the question of Style has not been altogether disposed of. The distinction between pure art, applied art and industrial design is still made in France, a country that at one time was the cradle of living art.
What we call design, the French call esthtique industrielle, and by this phrase they mean the application to industry of styles invented in the realm of the pure arts.
It therefore comes about that in France they make lamps inspired by abstract forms without bearing in mind that a lamp must give light. They design a Surrealist television set, a Dada table, a piece of informal furniture, forgetting that all objects have their exact uses and well-defined functions, and that they are no longer made by craftsmen modelling a stylish shape in copper according to their whim of the moment but by automatic machines turning out thousands of the things at a time.
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What then is this thing called Design if it is neither style nor applied art? It is planning: the planning as objectively as possible of everything that goes to make up the surroundings and atmosphere in which men live today. This atmosphere is created by all the objects produced by industry, from glasses to houses and even cities.
It is planning done without preconceived notions of style, attempting only to give each thing its logical structure and proper material, and in consequence its logical form. So all this talk about sober harmony, beauty and proportions, about the balance between masses and spaces typical sculpture-talk , about aesthetic perfection classicism?
An object should now be judged by whether it has a form consistent with its use, whether the material fits the construction and the production costs, whether the individual parts are logically fitted together. It is therefore a question of coherence. Beauty as conceived of in the fine arts, a sense of balance comparable with that of the masterpieces of the past, harmony and all the rest of it, simply make no more sense in design. If the form of an object turns out to be beautiful it will be thanks to the logic of its construction and to the precision of the solutions found for its various components.
It is beautiful because it is just right. An exact project produces a beautiful object, beautiful not because it is like a piece of sculpture, even modern sculpture, but because it is only like itself.
If you want to know something else about beauty, what precisely it is, look at a history of art. You will see that every age has had its ideal Venus or Apollo , and that all these Venuses or Apollos put together and compared out of the context of their periods are nothing less than a family of monsters.
A thing is not beautiful because it is beautiful, as the he-frog said to the she-frog, it is beautiful because one likes it. The basic teaching error of the academy was that of directing its attention towards genius rather than the average. Bauhaus A Living Language Good language alone will not save mankin9. But seeing the things behind the names will help us to understand the structure of the world we live in.
Good language will help us to communicate with one another about the realities of our environment, where we now speak darkly, in alien tongues. Stuart Chase, The Tyranny of Words And after whan ye han examined youre conseil, as Ihan said beforne, and knowen wel that ye moun performe youre emprise, conferme it than sadly til it be at an ende.
Can one now address the public in the language of the fourteenth century? It is most unlikely that the public would understand. Just as there are dead languages, it is natural that there should be modes of expression and communication that have gone out of use. It is a well-known fact that to get a message across we can use not only words, but in many cases also images, forms and colours, symbols, signs and signals.
Just as there are words which belong to other ages, so there are colours, forms, signs and so on which in our time have come to mean nothing, or would convey a wrong meaning. What does a blacksmiths sign mean to the children of today? To children in it meant a lot: it meant excitement. When they saw it they ran to watch the blacksmith hammering the glowing iron on his anvil, heating it every now and then in a furnace that threw off sparks like a firework display, nailing the finished shoe to the horses hoof.
Imagine the pungent stench of the hot iron, and the huge impassive horse tethered to an iron ring set in the blackened wall of that smoky cavern. Maybe a city child of today doesnt even know what a horseshoe is, and for this reason an object that was a symbol and a sign that evoked many images and meanings is now reduced to the status of a lucky charm. We can point out similar changes in the colours used for visual communication. Looking into the past we find certain periods dominated by certain colours and forms: periods in which all the colours are earthy and the forms hard, some in which the whole range of colours is put to use, others in which everything is done with three or four colours.
And so on down to our own times, when thanks to chemistry, plastic materials and other inventions, the kingdom of colour is governed by total chaos. Certainly if we now used the colours of the art nouveau period for road signs, these would fade magnificently into their surroundings. At that time they used some really refined combinations of colour. A faint idea of them can still be had from Robertss talcum powder boxes and the labels on Strega bottles.
They used to put pink and yellow side by side, or brown and blue, coffee and chocolate, pea-green and violet. Then they would make unexpected leaps from one shade to another, putting red with pale blue instead of dark and so on. Can we imagine a No Overtaking sign with a coffee and chocolate car on a violet background? Well, yes. We can imagine it for fun, but we cannot use it for a roadsign in real life. At some times in the past a certain series of colours, let us say all of dark tone, were indiscriminately adapted to all branches of human activity.
The colours used for furnishings did not differ much from those for clothes or carriages. But today different colours have different uses. For roadsigns we use only red, blue and yellow apart from the green light at traffic lights , and each colour has its well-defined meaning. In advertising we use bright brash colours or very refined ones according to our purpose. In printing we use the dull four-colour system which reduces all colours to a norm, while womens fashions make use of all the colours in rotation.
A double-bend sign in the style of Louis XIV. There have always been dangerous double bends, even in the time of Louis XIV, but then there were no roadsigns. They had heraldic arms instead. As the speed and volume of traffic increases, decoration is proportionally reduced, until it reaches the bare essentials of our present-day signals. Visual language changes according to the needs of the day.
In the past, images were nearly all painted, drawn or carved, and they reproduced visible and recognizable reality. Now we can even see the invisible. We have a host of machines exploring for us what we cannot see with the naked eye. We have X-ray photos, the world of the microscope, and the abstract inventions of artists. We have machines that enable us to see music and sounds in the form of luminous waves, machines that show us photo-elasticity in colour by means of polarized light, machines that slow up pictures of motion until we get as it were a blow-up of each instant.
Then there are the lights which already form an accepted part of the nightscape, fluorescent lights, neon, sodium vapour lights, black light. And we have forms that are beautiful and exact because they are true forms: the forms of aeroplanes and missiles are dictated by the demands of speed, and were inconceivable in the past. These are forms we see every day, the colours and lights of our own time. To accept, to know and to use them is to express oneself in the language of today which was made for the man of today.
A Rose is a Rose is a And then you go up to it and see, for the sake of argument, that it is an artificial rose.
Then you become aware of the material it is made of, cloth or plastic or paper. But at first glance you were certain of one thing only, that it was a rose.
This apparently insignificant fact is the subject of careful study today, for it is vital to the problems of visual communication. All over the world psychologists, designers and research workers in other fields are trying to understand and establish objective rules that will enable us to use these means of visual communication with increasing precision. The growing use of symbols such as roadsigns and trademarks on a worldwide scale demands absolute clarity of expression.
It is no longer possible to confine oneself to local tastes. If a visual message is going to get across to people of different languages and backgrounds it is essential that the message does not lend itself to wrong interpretations.
Another point is the speed at which signs can be read, though now we are pretty well trained to take them in in the blinking of an eye. Reading them is a matter of conditioning, and we do it without thinking, as when we put our foot on the brake when we see a red light. We are surrounded by countless visual stimuli, posters that flash past the car windows, lighted signs, blinking lights, images that crowd in upon us on every side, and all intent on telling us something.
We have already made a catalogue of stimuli in our own minds, and the process goes on without pause. Almost without realizing it we arrange these images in order, rejecting those that do not interest us.
Drawing a Tree
We already know that roadsigns occur at a certain height above the ground and have exactly those shapes and colours and no others. Putting things in pigeon-holes like this helps us to make snap readings of signs, and today it is important to have quick reflexes, so as not to waste time, or worse. All over the world this kind of lettering conveys an immediate message: strip cartoon.
Even before we read what it says.
Drawing a Tree
It goes without saying that an essay on Giotto as an architect ought not to have a title in such lettering. I know this is an exaggeration, and that no one would in fact think of using lettering like this for such a subject, but exaggeration often throws light upon the negative aspects of a problem in this case a problem of graphic design.
Between these letters and the right kind for the job there is a vast range of letters to choose from, both printed and drawn, and countless ways of arranging the title. Often a firm unwilling to call in a graphic designer will use lettering suited to cheese to present a book of famous artists, and we may see an advertisement for the Bible which looks at first sight as if it were trying to sell us beer. So we all have inside us naturally with some variation from person to person groups of images, forms and colours which have exact meanings.
There are masculine forms and colours and feminine forms and colours, warm colours and cold colours, images of violence and images of gentleness, images connected with culture and the arts and others that are just plain vulgar.
It goes without saying that if I have to publicize a cultural campaign on behalf of works of art I must not use vulgar colours, lettering associated with ads for canned foods, or a brash method of composition.
On the contrary, I must immediately convey the idea that here we are dealing with something lofty and not to be compared in any way with commonplace things. A lot of people think that the public does not understand such matters, but it is not a question of understanding. There is a whole mechanism already at work on its own, quite independent of logic or reason.
It is true that a badly designed poster will have some effect if the walls are smothered with it, but a good poster would achieve the same results less wastefully by giving more pleasure. Unhappily there is a lot of confusion and waste in these messages that surround us.
They often weary us with their petulance, their insistence on cramming things we dont want down our throats, and what is worse doing it clumsily. There is one American catalogue that gives a choice of one thousand two hundred colours, and thats not all of them. In the face of this one simply cannot go on using the same red as a background for quite different products, for car tires, perfumes and foodstuffs, as if one had no other resources.
The eye of the beholder is hopelessly muddled, and his first impression, which will determine whether he is interested or not, is a vague and indefinite one. The same can be said of form. There are things on sale that demand a tremendous effort to guess at their proper use. With the confusion of form that persists today a brush can look like a cat, a lamp like a weighing machine, a home like an office and an office like a drawing-room, a bank like an electricians workshop and a church like a stand at the Earls Court Exhibition.
The Stylists One of the commonest aspects of design, and one of the most facile, is styling. It is within the scope of all those who have artistic stirrings, who sign their work with a generous flutter of calligraphy as if setting their mark on a romantic masterpiece, and whose lips are constantly laden with the words Poetry and Art.
Styling is a kind of industrial designing, and of all branches of design the most ephemeral and superficial. It does no more than give a veneer of fashion, a contemporary look, to any object whatever. The stylist works for the quick turnover, and takes his ideas from the fads of the day. The aerodynamic period was the Golden Age for stylists. What most interests a stylist is line, sculptural form, a bizarre idea. A little science fiction does no harm and a sense of elegance is basic.
The project lets say a car body is first sketched out with coloured pencils. The stylist strikes while the iron is hot, perhaps making a thumbnail sketch on the back of a cigarette packet. The great thing is to get it down before inspiration cools. Then it is worked out in more detail and on a bigger scale, using artists charcoals. This second sketch is always done with a great flaunting of perspective and with dazzling highlights: the car is shown by night on a wet road so as to make the utmost of these highlights.
One sees something similar in those drawings of seaside and suburban villas in which the clouds behind and the tree before the house make ever such a nice picture. They then make a plaster model, as sculptors do, and the joints and relative volumes are studied.
While the stylist is at work he feels all the great artists of the past breathing over his shoulder, and he wants his design to be worthy of standing beside the Venus de Milo or a Palladian villa without looking foolish: indeed, these styled cars often are photographed standing confidently in front of some masterpiece of the past. Is this a flatiron or a speedboat? Someone turned up this sketch by the famous American stylist Bernard Tettamanzi it was he who created that fabulous car for Peter Zunzer , but there is no scale marked on the drawing.
There is no way of knowing the life-size of the object sketched out in such a masterly fashion with the point of a Flomaster. It could be an iron, it could be a speedboat. Exclusive Catalog: FALL p. Distributed Art Publishers, Inc.
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Distributed by D. Pbk, 5. FALL Page March 18, Bruno Munari: Drawing a Tree.Jan 15, David rated it really liked it. If you want to know something else about beauty, what precisely it is, look at a history of art.
To neglect the rules is dangerous, because it fouls up the whole organism. Various kinds of tool were used as evidence for this argument, such as surgical instruments. The illustrations were really enjoyable. Communication must be instant and it must be exact.