Nikki McClure has held a place in our hearts for a long, long time. First, in college, as an independent musician, then, later, as one of favorite visual artists, taking single sheets of paper and carving into them a detailed, whimsical world of beauty and grace. So, needless to say, we were beyond excited and unbelievably humbled when she agreed to do an interview with us. Below, we talk about her papercutting process, misheard lyrics, and, of course, crows. All images © Nikki McClure (obvs).

Kindness of Ravens (KoR): Alright, first of all, thank you SO much for agreeing to e-talk with us. You’re seriously one of our favorite artists and have been for years now. It means a lot to be able to speak with you.

So, for anyone who doesn’t already know your work, can you briefly describe what you do and how you do it?

Nikki McClure (NM): I cut images from paper using an x-acto knife.

KoR: Well, THAT’S a bit of an understatement. How long does an average(-ish) paper cut take you?

NM: I usually give myself a week, but sometimes it takes longer. The week timeline is usually a combo or procrastination and scheduling.

KoR: And do you always work from a single sheet of paper? I feel like that’s understandably one of the most impressive parts of your process to us.

NM: Yes. But sometimes there are separate pieces, but that’s very rare. I like to keep it all connected—a visible example of interdependence.

KoR: So there’s an artistic significance to the process or is it mostly a structural thing?

NM: Yes and yes. It started out as structural, a game, a challenge—the set of rules that I operated under—like math. But the artistic significance has been revealed slowly. We are all connected.

KoR: Nice. Are they always in black only originally?

NM: Mostly. Sometimes I will add an additional color, but it has to be the right color and the right paper. I like black and white.

KoR: It is classy. So, then with some of the prints based on your paper cuts, you add color, correct? Is that a silkscreen thing or a computer thing?

NM: It’s a computer thing. The images that most people see of my work are the graphic versions of my art. I sit in my friend’s basement and work on it directing him over his shoulder, or I scan and send it and we do it all via email. Hands-off.

KoR: We actually have a little old apple book that looks like it was colored in with red crayon. Guess that doesn’t happen much anymore eh?

NM: Ah, hands-on. Yeah…I have tied a lot of ribbons, punched a lot of holes, colored in a lot of red apples….that book has my 1st papercut as the illustration on the first page. It will be reprinted in 2012 by Abrams. No hand coloring this time.

KoR: I should hope not. So, do you ever get near the end of a piece and totally, say, take out a tree that supports the whole thing and have to ditch it all?

NM: No. Usually I mess it up earlier than that! Every piece has mistakes. None are perfect. I usually make do…or even better, believe that it is doomed and then I just keep going liberated from the fear that I will “mess it up”. It is already messed up and now I am free to try new things since I can’t mess it up more!

KoR: Very Zen. So, how did you get into this very specific realm of art? Were you ever into traditional Scherenschnitte?

NM: I had a period of folded scissor-cutting but it was mostly Valentines. I started with technical pen and ink, moved to scratchboard, then linoleum, then papercutting. Each step was consciously trying to move away from a technical tendency in drawing. I wanted to make mistakes. I wanted to make it not be perfect. Drawing with a knife is my therapy.

KoR: Certainly one of the more constructive ways to express yourself with a knife…. It seems like the subject matter in your art has been veering more and more toward the natural world and ‘simple’ living—farming, manual labor, sewing, canning, birds in trees. Is that just a reflection of your day-to-day life or should we pull more meaning from the subjects?

NM: I make pictures about my life. So yes, it is a reflection of that living…yet I also make pictures based on a broader community-based memory. I concentrate on evoking memory, from last week to ten thousand years ago—things that humans do. Positive things that humans do, I should add. I focus on our strengths: Hands, tools, dreams. We need to remember what we are fully capable of. It is not shopping or typing at a computer (I am making chicken soup and just revived the fire during this interview).

KoR: About all I can handle is coffee-drinking while I type. And even that’s a little dicey. So, for both Katie and I, much of our development—artistically, morally, educationally—took place when we were in college together in the early and mid-Nineties and we inundated ourselves with the Riot Grrrl and new new punk movements. So we’re familiar with you as an artist in two ways—first, in your work with K Records, Kill Rock Stars, and your own, edgy vocal-centric music; then only later did we come to know your visual work. While we’re big fans of both of these artists, it does seem like a big gap to bridge in terms of style and subject matter. Did one realm of work lead to the other at all?

NM: It is still the same me! The music definitely gave my voice confidence but it was nicer to just stay home and make a book that one person WANTS to read—maybe with a child in their lap—as opposed to sleeping on floors and waking up next to a pit bull (“Dont worry, he’s nice!”) and making people listen to me un-miked in a bar when they just want to hang out with their friends without some lady yelling at them (nicely…in a singy-sort of way). There’s less stage fright involved and now I get hotel rooms and 11AM story time tours. But the music was an awakening. Now my voice is refined and printed. No more yelling. Even the words I use are not in your face…but suggestive reminders.

KoR: I was personally always a huge fan of the song, “Omnivore”…though I was constantly singing the words wrong, it turns out.

NM: That is perfect. You made up your own song. I like that my pictures have a very specific memory for me…yet they evoke a different memory to others.

KoR: I don’t know…I think I was singing something like, “Baby I’m on the voor”…. I’m bad with lyrics. So, are you still involved with the Olympia music scene at all or has it all evolved from music into…I don’t know…organic bakeries and local bookstores as its members have grown?

NM: There is still music. I mostly stay home. I have a kid and cannot bear staying up past 10PM much less waiting for a band to fiddle with cords. I get the singles downloaded weekly from K Records. I like to think that keeps me current…yet I never listen to them. I was always a LIVE music listener. Now if only someone were to serenade me…but only chickadees. So I listen to birds.

There are bookstores, bakeries, burritos, clothing stores, and cafes that are punk-based ventures. It has been exciting to participate as reader and eater.

KoR: You’ve been somewhat of a keystone seemingly in the Olympia community for years now. How have things changed there?

NM: Ahh…to be a keystone. I have been here a long time! About the same time I had a child (6 years ago), there was a cultural exodus from Olympia to Portland, mainly. I became a hermit in my Mom Cave. BUT, there is still Evergreen State College and there are still young dreamers and makers arriving all the time. A handful stay and CONTRIBUTE!! So that is still the same yet ever evolving.

KoR: Over the years you’ve translated your work into a variety of formats—books, posters, amazing calendars, notepads, shirts…. Any new products in the pipeline we can get excited about? Life-size paper cut sets for the stage? Capes?

NM: Capes??? You may have something there. I am dreaming of large silk-screen duvet covers.

KoR: Those would SO do well. Can we call dibs on a crow one? Now, in closing, and speaking of, we have to ask—what’s with the crow fascination?

NM: There are crows everywhere in Olympia. I keep time by them. They are me.

KoR: Crow clock. Amazing. Why didn’t we think of that?! Alright. Lightening Round. New band/music you’re listening to lately?

NM: Tender Forever.

KoR: Favorite recipe?

NM: Kale salad—massage the kale with salt, add some apple cider vinaigrette, some chopped apple, toasted sunflower seeds, golden raisins.

KoR: Yum. Best place in Olympia?

NM: Home.

KoR: Do they do brunch…? Cat or dog person?

NM: Bird.

KoR: Of course! Favorite piece of your own, ever?

NM: The one I am about to make.

KoR: Nice. Totem animal?

NM: Crow. Duh. Or chicken, according to my son (he gets to be a puma…grrrrr—I mean “cluck!”).

KoR: Favorite area artists that’s not you?

NM: Marilyn Frasca.

KoR: Odd thing not many people know about you?

NM: My ears are lopsided, so I can’t wear sunglasses comfortably.

KoR: Ah. My head’s weirdly thin, so I have to wear, like, designer kids’ sunglasses. Boooo. Finally…can we be crow buddies?

NM: Cawww!

You can see some of Nikki’s work below and much more on her site. And, while you’re at it, check out her extensive collection of awesome things at Buy Olympia.




Whether you’re of the mind that horse-drawn carriages are quaint, charming throw-backs to a time long-lost or you think they’re a totally cruel, unnecessary, inhumane tourist trap, you most likely at least agree that shouldn’t be used up and thrown away—literally sometimes—with the garbage. But that’s what’s happening with some of the carriage horses from New York City. As is, there aren’t any governing laws that require any documentation whatsoever when the horses are taken out of the city. So owners can do pretty much anything they want with these animals.

So take, like, one second, and sign this petition at change.org. It proposes the radical (italics denote sarcasm in this case—I’m not an ironic qoute marks kinda guy) notion that owners of carriage horses in NYC be required to sell the animals to private individuals or legit animal sanctuaries. Nothing crazy.

As you may have already guessed, we happen to fall in that second camp, by the by, and think that the whole industry is fucked, and guess what? That lady from Glee agrees with us! …though she didn’t use that exact wording. Check out her totally not lip-synched video below. It’s actually very enlightening and well-done. Then, if you want to speak up for the 200 horses working day in and day out on the rough (currently super-snowy) streets of New York, take another quick second and visit this site. Seriously. Like, seconds to speak up for these poor creatures who can’t speak up themselves.

And thanks!

Photo above, courtesy of the Coalition to Ban Horse-Drawn Carriages; video, courtesy of NYCLASS/PETA; and poster image by us, from a campaign we did with NYC vegan shoe store, MooShoes a couple years ago.

Okay, I know it’s just now the new year, but still, it’s weird that 2007 was four years ago, isn’t it? You’d think we were getting old or something. Anyway, more to the point, we first heard Ms. Lykke Li back in 2007, which really does not seem that long ago, but whatever you say, Gregorian calendar. Whatever.

Anyway, Li is a Swedish singer and songwriter who was really riding the crest of the internet-born music wave back in ’07, having ‘released’ song after song on the Web well before her actual hard-copy debut in 2008, Youth Novels. Now, of course, that’s pretty much the norm, but back then it was exciting—hearing a this tiny woman’s whispery, child-like voice woven through solid, melodic instrumentation, and not having the slightest idea where any of it was coming from. It made us fans of hers long before her record ever came out.

Now Li’s set to release her sophomore effort, proppa style, at the end of next month or beginning of March (you know how these things are). It’s emotively named Wounded Rhymes and is said to have been produced by Bjorn of Peter Bjorn and John. And she’s keeping to her ‘o7/’08 playbook, releasing somber album cover art here, leaking snippets of tracks there, putting out two-song EP’s—all leading up to her full-length’s release and all via her (very well-done) site. We weren’t totally crazy about the first single released, “Get Some“, but she just released a second one that’s got us a’buzzin’ again and—you guessed it—it’s this week’s Song of the Week. The track’s called “I Follow River” and, whereas it’s now the feel-good dance track we promised last week, it’s mighty tight. In a moody, Swedish, barely twenty sort of way.

As an added bonus, below’s the video from 2007 that provided our introduction to Frau Li and, though she’s grown a lot musically since then, it’s still super charming. We love the heckler in the window who bookends the song. And we have no idea what he’s saying.

Raise your hand if you know Swedish!

Flowers + light.

You know how you sometimes come across something—usually something tiny, something you can easily hold in your hand—and it totally intrigues you, totally pulls you in? Whether it has a much of a function or a purpose or not, you want to take it with you and make it part of your life somehow. Well, last month I happened across a store that’s essentially a gallery of such items.

The store is KIOSK, and walking up it’s near-hidden SoHo staircase, you feel like you’re suddenly walking into that old, slightly dangerous, very neon, very graffitied, very cool New York. Take a right and another right, and you’re in a diminutive museum where you can buy many awesomely strange, oft-tiny, well-storied items. Little aluminum olive oil dispenser from Portugal? Got it. 1940’s Swedish stapler that weighs as much as a tire iron? Done. Spool of nylon twine form Germany? Um, ya, natürlich wir haben die. One of the coolest parts about the store? The fact that everything really is displayed like it’s in a little gallery, each individually with well-thought-out, well-written descriptions that seriously makes you, eh, want to buy a spool of nylon twine form Germany, say.
 
As they put it themselves:
KIOSK is a travel story depicted through objects, a collection of interesting things from around the world, a study of material culture, a shop, several people’s efforts to preserve unique and indigenous objects, an installation, maybe just something other than what we are used to. At KIOSK we feature the things that generally go unnoticed, products that are the result of local aesthetics and needs. Our motivation is to give attention to these anonymous objects and support independent producers. Hopefully what we share encourages you to go out and meet and talk and learn and see and show.
 
Plus, seriously—check out how much Allister F. McVittes, LLC loves their Japanese matatabi Cat Toy. That’s love, man. That’s love.
 
Next time you’re in SoHo, skip the Mac store and step into old, weird New York.
 
All photography—minus Allister’s glamorshot—© KIOSK.


Holy shit, it’s 2011! I straight-up JUST watched Patrick Dempsey explain to Amanda Peterson that by 2007 there’d be colonies of people living and working on the moon. AND HE WAS TOTALLY WRONG!! AND YES, I WATCHED CAN’T BUY ME LOVE ON TV!!!! But I think that proves I wasn’t alone in picturing the aughts (’00s) as a hell of a lot more awesomely sci-fi. And as we enter mid-tweens, I have to say, I’m not holding out a lot of hope in the jet pack and hover car departments, respectively. These guys know what I’m talking about.
So what better way to start out the new year than with false starts, cursing, and an indie party song played with half-hearted vigor? This song is far too cool to dance, but I bet it’d sort of nods at shows. Said song starts out the new year as the first Song of the Week of 2011 and is called, somewhat appropriately, “Confetti.” It comes from the search-engine-fighting Pittsburg duo, 1,2,3 and sounds sort of like a slowed-down, crunched-out, much looser version of an early 90’s brit-pop number, all Americaned up. They’ll be releasing something…sometime…on NYC-fave Frenchkiss Records…so stay tuned! For something!

Now we present this song, reader, as our slow, stretching yawn as we wake to the new year. We’re TIIIIRED. But don’t worry. We’ll totally play some party down, get on up music next week, once we’ve thawed out from all the thundersnow storms up here in Brooklyn. THUNDERSNOW!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

THUNDERSNOW!!!

Our Find, this week—as we’re all in the depths of well-intentioned consumerism, frantically running and e-running about for various awesome gifts—is vegan purveyor MooShoes‘ annual Holiday Gift Guide. They’re a favorite client of ours—and yes, that IS a lovely design on that gift guide—and they’ve put together QUITE a nice list this year.

…no, it’s not JUST a bunch of shoes…though they’ve obviously got a lot of those. But they’ve also got some superb ideas on the ever-expanding vegan food front, a shout-out for lovely companion animal photography from Avery Wham, some animal-friendly cosmetics, hard-to-find animal-friendly travel planners, and a great suggestion if you’re looking to give the gift that keeps on giving—the support of your favorite non-profit.

And if you like the sound of that last suggestions, check out Refinery 29’s EXCELLENT charitable gifts guide.

Happy economic stimulating!

Broken Records is one of those bands that I’ve been meaning to check out for a while but had yet to hear until recently. Turns out, they were worth the wait. The Scottish group hails from Edinburgh and plays and records as a small army of six or seven in that modern dark baroque style that’s earned them plenty a comparison to various state-side bands. But, rather than muddy up your auditory or intellectual waters with preconceived notions, I encourage you to check out their Song of the Week, “A Darkness Rises Up”—a rolling, emotive song that totally hits all the rights notes for me. Like it? Visit their site for another free track from their forthcoming sophomore full-length, Let Me Come Home. It’s due out January 11th on the venerable 4AD, and you can order it via Insound. And be sure to catch them as they kick off their first US tour next February with Freelance Whales.

That’s right, reader! It’s the triumphant return of Not Just a Phase, where friends share their stories of choosing a vegetarian lifestyle. Deciding to go totally animal-free is a big deal, especially if you, like many of us, grew up eating and wearing animals without giving any of it much thought. Finally taking the initiative to make such a significant change—whether for moral or health reason—can be a highly personal and empowering choice. Which is why we ask all of friends who have made such a move to write us with their individual stories. If you’d like to share yours with us, send it, and any fun, related pics, to us at info@lunchwithravenandcrow.com.

Without further ado, here’s our friend Jeff’s story.

I stopped eating meat 20 years ago this summer, after reading the lyrics to a song that my favorite band wrote on the topic. The band was Youth of Today and the song was called “No More” (listen to it here). YOT was a hardcore (punk) band, which meant loud, fast, choppy songs and vocals that were more snarled than sung, but it was music to my high school sophomore ears (and still is).

I was extremely quiet and rarely spoke up for myself, and their songs about taking a stand and fighting back against the world, yet living compassionately resonated deeply within me. I became a vegetarian at first because it was something my punk rock idols endorsed, but in this case, it was the right thing to do even if the reason wasn’t so solid.

In the years since, of course, I’ve learned much more about countless reasons to be a vegetarian or vegan—from ethical to environmental to health and well-being and on to spirituality, but I’ll always be grateful for YOT and that initial exposure.

As people trying to live compassionately I think sometimes we (myself included) get a little full of ourselves and become proud about what’s really a very selfless choice. I had already been a vegetarian for years, probably 10 or more, before I made the connection that choosing to eat compassionately is just one step toward cultivating essential qualities like humility, tolerance and kindness—qualities that to the extent we live without, we never really become whole.

Living and growing this way has helped me see beauty in things I hardly noticed before, and for that, even on a bad day, I’m thankful.

Jeffrey Simms
Above, Jeff and a good friend. Have a great weekend, reader!

Holy stunning, Batman!

No, your screensaver didn’t kick in, mini-style. And no, you’re not having a tiny, drug-induced trip…er, maybe you are. But the image above is a 12′ x 6′ x 16′ of thread, nails, and wood. And a fuck ton of incredible skill and creativity, from what we can tell.

Texas-based artist and former graphic designer Gabriel Dawe creates these installations and other artwork that harkens back to his Mexican upbringing “where he grew up surrounded by the intensity and color of Mexican culture.” In addition to these stunning pieces, he’s done some pretty cool fiber- and object-art. Check it all out on his site. And see more of the installation piece, “Plexus no. 4”, below.