While a growing number of craftsmen are working with other people’s discards, Recology, a California resource recovery company, actually pays artists to turn trash into art.

“Crazy Quilt” by Remi Rubel. 1991. Built from bottlecaps and other metal objects.

In 1990 Recology began a unique art and education program. The company selected artists to work full time for four months in a large, well-equipped studio next to its transfer station in San Francisco. The transfer station is located within a 46-acre property that includes several recycling facilities and the public disposal area (aka “the dump”). Most of San Francisco’s garbage  is temporarily stored at this site before moving on to a landfill elsewhere in California.
 
Recology changed its name from Norcal Waste Systems in 2009 to reflect its corporate culture and values. More than a private, employee-owned waste management company, the company wants to encourage people to reuse material, think about new ways to conserve resources, and support local, professional artists.

“Mum — Sea Breeze” by Karrie Hovey. 2012. Made from books, latex paint, particle board, and a metal table ring.

Artists are selected by an advisory board of environmentalists, artists and curators; each recipient receives a $1,000 monthly grant to cover basic personal bills.

“Audrey Hepburn Dress” by Estelle Akamine. 1993. Made from foam sheets, plastic bags, six-pack holders.

At the end of each residency, the company holds a free public reception and exhibition of the artist’s work in the company’s studio. As visitors enter, they are confronted with a mountain of trash. They then see how imagination turns discards into meaningful objects. 
 
The artists roam the  public disposal area with shopping carts, collecting different types of trash. One may look for furniture, trinkets, photos and other personal objects, for found object collages, while another looks for raw materials such as wood, painted metal or wire for assemblage.

“3711 x 13510” by Zachary Royer Scholz. 2010. Constructed from pine and paint.

Some of the trash art is exhibited permanently in Recology’s three-acre sculpture garden atop a hill overlooking the San Francisco Bay. The garden is located between the garbage and recycling facilities and the Little Hollywood neighborhood. Many pieces from the program are also exhibited in office buildings, schools and other public or private spaces in the city. The garden is a stop for students on one of the 160 tours held throughout the year. 

A new exhibit, “The Art of Recology” can now be seen in the United Terminal at the San Francisco International Airport. Celebrating the Recology San Francisco Artist in Residence program, it presents over 100 works by 45 artists, made during the time they worked in the studio at the Solid Waste Transfer and Recycling Facility. It will be on public view through October 27. Below are images of art included in this exhibit.

“Styrofoam Hummer H1 (low mileage, always garaged)” by Andrew Junge. 2005. Constructed from styrofoam, lumber and steel.

“Last Dive at the Farallones: 100,000 marine mammals killed per year” by Ethan Estess. 2012. Created with wood, Styrofoam, wood flooring adhesive, super glue, screws, and rope.

To learn more, visit the Recology website.

This is a good one! Here are 5 gift wrapping ideas straight from the closet.

Photo by Brit & Co.

See full article from Brit & Co.

Cut up fishnet or lace-pattern tights and stretch over gifts for a trim that’s feminine yet edgy.

See full article from House to Home

Wool sweater sleeve tied into a bow.

See full article from Boxwood Clippings

A shoe box, wrapping paper, string and fabric scraps make a colorful, one of a kind package.

See full article from Meeha Meeha

Glittery silver and gold Miu Miu booties used for gift decorations.

See full article from Ambrosia Creative

Even those of us dedicated to recycling and reuse have to get rid of things eventually. So, as I was cleaning out my closet for the fall season, filling the bag for charity, I suddenly thought: What if nobody wants my old clothes? Will they wind up as my share of the average 68 pounds of textiles per person that go into American landfills each year?

Clothes just emptied from a closet and ready to move on.

Depends on the clothes — and the charity. Blue jeans are always in demand at your local Goodwill; those that are too far gone can be turned into building insulation. Even Levi Strauss Co., which knows a little something about denim, used the insulation in the renovation of its San Francisco headquarters.

Other fabrics can have a second life, too. Schuykill Women in Crisis, a nonprofit that works with victims of domestic violence in rural northeast Pennsylvania, collects clothing for distribution to its clients. If no one picks out a piece after a certain period of time — and seriously, we all know the unfortunate fashion selections we’ve donated — it is given to The Grateful Thread, a SWIC initiative. TGT volunteers turn any unwanted fabric into rags, and then weave and sew them into attractive rugs, coasters, purses and other items for sale in its webstore, and at craft sales throughout the region.

“We make some money for SWIC programs, and the ladies who do the weaving —either in one of our safe facilities or out of their home — find it very therapeutic, too,” said Darla Troutman, communications director for SWIC.

Sampling of rugs by The Grateful Thread.

Reusable grocery bag manufacturer Chico Bag in California has a limited inventory of the handwoven rugs for sale on its website. All proceeds go to The Grateful Thread.

Aliza Lelah (born 1982) is a painter and photographer who has exhibited her work across the U.S. and Europe. By accident, she developed a unique approach to fabric collage when working on an MFA in painting at the Savannah College of Art and Design in 2007.

“Time Makes History of Us” by Aliza Lelah. 2007. 27” x 16”.

For her thesis, she originally planned to paint a series of portraits of relatives — most of whom she had never met — but decided to change the medium. She discovered painting “wasn’t achieving what I needed it to achieve,” she said. Instead, she developed impressionistic compositions from old family photographs realized with bits of cloth used like brush strokes.

L: “Drowning Brother (I Saved Him)” 2008. 36” x 18” R: Detail: “Drowning Brother (I Saved Him)” 2008. 36” x 18”

Forms were developed by hand-stitching small strips of recycled fabric scraps from her personal collection and old clothing from friends. She created depth on her figures by sewing pieces of cloth on top of one another.  “The fabric brings its own memories and nostalgia to my projects,” she said.

“After the Wreck” by Aliza Lelah. 2011. 27” x 28”

When each image is finished, Lelah traces the shape on ¼-inch thick wood backing and cuts it out with a jigsaw. She stretches the collage over the frame and stitches cotton backing to it.

“The Stinkier Cheese” by Aliza Lelah. 2008. 12” x 12”

Although the technique is time consuming, Lelah, who now teaches drawing at Metropolitan State University in Denver, continues to explore the medium of shaped fabric collages and develops new works from personal photographs or pictures found on eBay.

“L and C” by Aliza Lelah. 2011. 14” x 13”

While working on the images, she discovers a personal relationship to each and develops different techniques to reveal the subject.

To learn more, visit her website.

As an armchair traveler, I always like to read about offbeat, seldom-visited or forgotten destinations. That’s why I like Urban Ghosts Media, an e-magazine “about abandoned places, hidden history and alternative places.”

The writers consider art to be a component of the urban landscape and often discuss works “created from discarded objects” in Britain (their home base) and abroad. This fits into their coverage of “the abandoned and the repurposed” – which neatly fits with our interest in art made from recycled, repurposed and natural materials.

Urban Ghosts recently published a story about what has happened to Britain’s iconic red telephone boxes since they were replaced with a more utilitarian model. When the booths were separated from their phones, they began to fall into decay but some enterprising recyclers have found new and imaginative uses for them. The editor of Urban Ghosts has kindly permitted us to reprint their findings.

When Sir Giles Gilbert Scott’s red telephone box was introduced in the 1920s, few could have known that it was destined to become an enduring icon of Britishness.  But almost 90 years later, the colourful kiosks have largely become a thing of the past.  Of course, the upside is that many have come up for sale, some creatively recycled and repurposed in surprising ways, others transformed into urban art exhibits.

Repurposed Kiosks – Libraries, Cash Machines, Art Galleries and … Toilets!

(Images: David Hillas; Geoff Pick; cc-sa-3.0)

Years ago, country folk weren’t impressed by the bright red boxes, lobbying local councils to tone them down.  But times change and several communities have gone to great lengths to preserve what they consider a part of their heritage.  One of the most celebrated examples is the kiosk in Westbury-sub-Mendip (above left), transformed into the smallest library in Britain, and open 24/7, 365 days a year.

(Image: John Grayson, cc-sa-3.0)

According to the BBC: “BT has received 770 applications for communities to ‘adopt a kiosk’, and so far 350 boxes have been handed over to parish councils”.  In addition to libraries and book exchanges, abandoned red telephone boxes and found new leases of life as ATM cash machines (below) and possibly Britain’s smallest art gallery (above).

(Images: John S. Turner; Christine Matthews; cc-sa-3.0)

And while some kiosks have been recycled into miniature art galleries – others have themselves become urban art installations.  Check them out below, and don’t miss this article about a Somerset pensioner who converted a kiosk into his personal toilet.

Red Telephone Boxes as Recycled Art Installations

(Images: Steve Fareham; Oast House Archive; cc-sa-3.0)

From the local and the homemade (above) to grand designs and professionally commissioned installations (below), these recycled artworks reflect the popularity of the red boxes in the national psyche.

(Image: Don Swanson (see website), cc-nc-sa-3.0)

Whether artistically symbolising the decline of an icon, the graffiti and vandalism such objects inevitably endure, or simply using this denizen of Britishness as a departure point for a truly offbeat creation, Gilbert Scott‘s distinctive design remains an integral part of the street-scene.

(Images: sharkbait (website); Pete Jordan (website); yoga mama; Katy Stoddard (website); cc-nc-sa-3.0)

Finally, an example (above right) outside Archway Tube station in London has been recycled as a flower box, adding a splash of green and yellow, as well as red, to this utilitarian public square.

The red telephone box, designed by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, is as quintessentially British as fish and chips, the Shipping Forecast, eccentric place names and – sadly – doomed pubs.  But after years of dedicated service, this icon of cities, towns and villages throughout Britain and her former colonies has largely become a thing of the past.

(Image: Garry Knight, cc-sa-3.0)

The popular red kiosk was the result of a 1924 competition initiated due to widespread dissatisfaction with the original K1 (Kiosk No. 1) design across London.  The winning design, in the classic tradition, was submitted by Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, architect of Liverpool Cathedral and Battersea Power Station.

(Image: rofanator, cc-nc-nd-3.0)

Scott had intended his K2 kiosk, with domed roof likely inspired by Sir John Soane’s tomb in St Pancras’ Old Churchyard, to be painted silver.  But the Post Office selected red to ensure the boxes were noticeable.  This stirred a public outcry at the time, and boxes located in areas of natural and historic beauty were painted a more subdued grey with red glazing bars.

(Image: pauldriscoll, cc-nc-nd-3.0)

Ironically, it wasn’t strictly modernisation that led to the demise of the red telephone box, as the classical K2 model gave way to the definitive K6 in 1935, commemorating the silver jubilee of King George V.  The death blow was dealt by privatisation in the form of British Telecom, which, from the 1980s, installed the more utilitarian KX100 in place of thousands of traditional kiosks.

(Image: Jon Burney, cc-nc-sa-3.0)

Around 2000 red phone boxes have historical listed status, but many stand neglected, vandalised, or simply abandoned, with a lucky few re-purposed.  In an ironic twist, the public outcry that had accompanied the introduction of the red telephone box was matched by protests over its demise, as many who had originally opposed it campaigned for the preservation of their beloved kiosks.

(Image: Rick Harris, cc-sa-3.0)

Its appearance in various urban art exhibits reflects the kiosk’s cult status, while adaptive reuse and popularity with collectors underscores its enduring legacy as an eccentric symbol if Britishness.  But the all-too-common sight of decaying red phone boxes are perhaps the most poignant reminder that things have moved on, and that eras always come to an end.

If you go looking for the roots of the Art Eco movement, you will soon run across the Dumpster Divers of Philadelphia.

Twenty years ago, a half-dozen artists who were already working with found objects were getting together informally in diners around town, sharing ideas. Joel Spivak, Neil Benson and Leo Sewell were part of the group, which has since grown into a collection of 40 artists, a pop up gallery, events, eco-education programs for school-aged kids, exhibitions up and down the East Coast, and inspiration for the next generation of environmentally conscious artists.

Isaiah Zagar standing in front of his mural surrounding the Magic Garden. He placed trashed mirrors, bottles, bicycle parts and tile into the walls. The Garden turned into a labyrinth with tunnels and alcoves filled with his murals.

An original Diver, Isaiah Zagar, began transforming a vacant South Philadelphia lot into the fantastical mosaic Magic Gardens in 1994 with detritus from the South Street corridor, just after the monthly meetings formalized into an organization (albeit without bylaws or dues). Zagar’s efforts reflect the Divers’ philosophy of creating beauty out of what other people call “trash,” and helped revitalize the entire neighborhood.

Benson said what brought the Divers together originally was an aversion to paying for art supplies.

“My motto is ‘Trash is just a failure of imagination’,” he said in a 2011 video interview.

That imagination was on display in 2006, when 25 of the Divers all took the same 25 objects and created the now legendary “25 x 25” exhibit.

“Moter and Cild” by Burnell Yow, which was displayed in the “25 x 25” exhibit. He said “It would have been ‘Mother and Child’ but I didn’t have any Scrabble™ pieces of the letter ‘H.’” (Photo by Yow)

Untitled sculpture by Betsy Alexander, which was displayed in the “25 by 25” exhibit. (Photo by Yow)

The Divers also have an aversion to paying for gallery space. Benson said they have worked successfully with several landlords to fill otherwise-empty commercial spaces for no rent, with the understanding that the gallery would move as soon as a paying tenant surfaced. It’s a way to keep neighborhoods from becoming derelict, and the arts have been keeping the lights on for business during the real estate bust in locations around the country.

Group photo of the Dumpster Divers taken at The 2012 Annual Diver Awards Banquet at the Famous Deli. (Photo by I. George Bilyk)

For their two-decade dedication “to raise the consciousness of art lovers and heighten awareness of taking a creative approach to support a more sustainable city, country and world,” the Dumpster Divers received an official Tribute from the Mayor of Philadelphia Michael A. Nutter. He recognized April 1-7, 2012, as the 20th anniversary of the group, and urged all citizens to be aware of their ongoing efforts “to ensure Philadelphia’s future as a green and sustainable city through recycling…”

To see what the Dumpster Divers are up to now, visit their website.

Back in the day, the City of New Orleans measured the success of Mardi Gras by the amount of garbage left to scoop off Bourbon Street on Ash Wednesday. But even the excesses of Carnival season are becoming more eco-friendly, slowly.

An estimated 22 million pounds of cheap plastic beads, most of them imported from China, are tossed to crowds lined up for the pre-Lenten parades. Only about 2 percent of those are recycled, but Arc Enterprises in New Orleans is working to increase that ratio. It places recycling bins along the parade routes and its “Catch and Release” trailer follows some of the floats.

Revelers are also encouraged to toss their throws back into the trailer for recycling and resale to next year’s float riders. Last year the organization, which employs the disabled, sorted through 100,000 pounds of reclaimed beads.

“My Beauty Underneath” by Stephan Wanger is 88" x 66" and created with 60,000 reused Mardi Gras beads glued to a trashed front door.

Artist Stephan Wanger knows just what to do with a lot of those beads: He created the world’s largest mosaic ever made entirely out of the colorful little baubles. “Sanctuary of Alegria — Home of Happiness” is 8 feet tall and 30 feet wide, and contains more than a million individual recycled Mardi Gras beads. The mosaic, which depicts the New Orleans skyline, took over 14 months to assemble, with help from volunteers. It will be auctioned off in March to raise funds for the Lower Ninth Ward, devastated by Hurricane Katrina.

Detail of Wanger’s “Sanctuary of Alegria” created to mark the 200th anniversary of Louisiana’s statehood as the 18th state in the Union.

Wanger has been creating works of art from recycled beads with a mission – to help rebuild the city – since 2005. He also teaches classes in his Galeria Alegria on Magazine Street in New Orleans.

There’s even a new krewe that brings the green message to the parades themselves. Made up of local performance and visual artists, The Ancient Krewe of Kolossos paraded for the first time on Feb. 16, with a host of bicycle-powered floats, marching bands, street performers and eco-friendly handmade floats.

Laissez bon temps rouler!

I first became conscious of altered books 12 years ago when a graphic artist friend, Sue, told me she was creating them. She pointed out it is O.K. to reuse old, unwanted books, which are, unfortunately, in ample supply.

Books become obsolete — unreadable through wear and tear, or simply outdated. Sue took only the ones that “spoke to her” in the pile her library threw out each year.

I cringe to think of my contributions to the orphan-book pile: the tech manuals for WordPerfect and other extinct technologies, last year’s phonebooks, and old one-volume encyclopedias that I must re-home or send to ruin periodically as I make room in my library for new titles. It’s tough for readers, but great for artists — free supplies.

Since then, I have been looking for exhibits of altered books in galleries and museums.

Turns out the term is very broad. It refers to any artwork that changes the appearance of a book and/or its function or meaning. The change can be minute — the artist can change just one page — or transformational (for instance, combining several books to form a sculpture).

Anything goes in altering books. Techniques include cutting, gluing, painting, rubber stamping, changing the shape, among others. Here are a few artists using books as their medium — the tip of the iceberg, or a blurb for the back cover, if you will.

Chen Long-Bin prefers to work with out-of-date books, magazines and phonebooks. He uses a buzz saw to transform these information-saturated materials into detailed sculptures that are exhibited internationally.

“One Buddha, Two Systems (New York)” by Chen Long-Bin. Mixed media sculpture with Chinese and English New York Yellow Pages. 43 x 28 x 28 cm. 2008.

Georgia Russell is a Scottish artist who dissects printed matter, music scores, maps, newspapers and photographs into what she calls “membranes of memories.” Her work is seen internationally and included in the Victoria and Albert Museum’s permanent collection.

“Cut Book in a Bell Jar” by Georgia Russell. 17.5" high. 2007.

“Cut Book Jacket in an Acrylic Case” by Georgia Russell 13.75" x 11.75" x 4".

Brian Dettmer started out as a painter. When he worked in a sign shop, he began to explore the relationship between text and images and eventually started working with old books in 2000. Today he works with older dictionaries, encyclopedias, textbooks, wallpaper sample books, comic books and other printed materials. “The book’s intended function has decreased and the form remains linear in a non-linear world,” he said. “By altering physical forms of information and shifting preconceived functions, new and unexpected roles emerge….”

“New International Dictionary, 2003” by Brian Dettmer 12" x 9" x 7".

Alex Queral creates mostly celebrity 3-D portraits from bound phone books, using only an X-acto knife and acrylic paint. The faces are often painted with a monochromatic wash to separate the image from the printed background page, which remains untouched. Queral said that he is “celebrating the individual lost in the anonymous list of thousands of names.” The sculpture is then sealed with acrylic to preserve the work.

“Albert Einstein” and “Barack Obama” by Alex Queral.

And, on the practical side, Kara Witham is one of several people who offer hollowed-out book safes for sale on the web, at her Etsy store.

“Hollow Book Safe & Flask - The Odyssey” by Kara Witham.

For further information about these artists, check these websites.

• Chen Long-Bin
• Alex Queral
• Karra Whitham
• Georgia Russell

The way we receive information is changing. Some friends have completely abandoned hardcover books for e-books; others have never read a book in electronic form, and yet others have collections of both. Our public libraries increasingly offer patrons a choice of formats.

With the rapid development of technology, I think this was bound to happen. Books have been around for millennia — in essentially the same form for six centuries — and as a painting teacher once told our class, “The only constant in design is change.”

The relationship of artists to written communication has also changed. In the past, the destruction of a book meant the destruction of the information it contained. But when anyone can carry a library in his or her luggage, designers and artists are beginning to view bound, printed pages as art supplies. Several artists are exploring ways to keep books from landfills and preserve their shelf life.

Jim Rosenau takes that challenge literally. The son and grandson of book publishers, Rosenau was raised in a house with 5,000 books.  He is now a carpenter, comedy writer and software developer living in California, but he is perhaps best known for creating furniture — including bookshelves — from discarded hardbacks and salvaged lumber.

Shelf made from a set of three dictionaries by Jim Rosenau.

“Who Done It?” Shelf made from three carefully selected abandoned books by Jim Rosenau.

Bookcase made from rescued books by Jim Rosenau.

While majoring in 3D Design in college, British artist Laura Cahill kept track of the number of objects discarded within a mile radius of her school. In response to her findings, she began a collection, “Readable Furniture,” made from recycled books.  “I am fascinated in reusing objects in a way that gives them a new life,” she said.

Vase made from old books by Laura Cahill. The spines are wrapped around test tubes so that the vases don't get damaged when they are filled with water.

Table and lamp from old books by Laura Cahill.

The Dutch firm Bomdesign offers several sculptural reading lamps made from reclaimed books, and creates boxes from other recycled materials to ship them to clients throughout the world. Lamp sizes vary, depending on the size of the original books.

Reading lamps made from old books by Bomdesign.

Furniture made by stacking books has been around for a long time — almost any dorm-dweller can do it without special training. In college I made bookshelves by stacking out-of-date textbooks between custom-cut boards.

Here are some other designs that take this technique to the next level.

Stacked Book Tables.

When the Technical University of Delft in the Netherlands needed a new reference desk, the staff created one from old intact library books.

The reference desk in the Technical University of Delft library.

Closeup view of the library reference desk in Delft.

Learn more about the artists at their websites:  Jim Rosenau, Laura Cahill and Atelier Bomdesign.

Rag rugs were the first American-made rugs. Between mending clothes, sewing patchwork quilts, and making rugs, the colonials found a new use for every scrap of precious fabric.

Today, some fiber artists continue to work with these utilitarian techniques to preserve American traditional arts. Others are creating rag rugs to divert fabric from the landfill as well. It’s estimated that each U.S. family sheds 68 pounds of unwanted clothing and upholstery into the landfill each year.

Weaver Chris Gustin started making potholders when she was a child. To hone her weaving skills, she took workshops in college and craft schools before developing her own techniques.

Her commitment to weaving with waste fabric began in 1974 when she saw a patchwork “crazy quilt” called “Recycle and Re-use” at Expo, the World’s Fair in Spokane, Washington.

Chris Gustin's rugs woven from waste selvages produced during the weaving of fabric for upholstery and clothing.

“It made me think about what I could do to help the environment,” Gustin said, and she said began exploring new ways to weave with waste materials. She used supplies from thrift shops, sock factories, bedding manufacturers, weaving mills and scrap dealers.

Her work now diverts about a ton of industrial waste fabrics a year from the landfill into rugs, clothing, and home accessories. Gustin also teaches others how to work with unconventional supplies and find scrap materials for weaving in her studio in Brown County, Indiana.

Crispina ffrench has been reworking used clothing into one-of-a-kind new clothing, rugs, pillows and other useful things since 1987, when she sold her work from a backpack at music festivals. She bought supplies — old sweaters and t-shirts — from Goodwill stores throughout the Northeast.

Demand grew and she expanded by hiring homemakers and caretakers in her western Massachusetts town to create new stock.

Stone Soup Potholder Rug, made from 100% post consumer used wool sweaters by Crispina ffrench.

In 2008, when 40 people were creating new pieces for her, she closed her business to take care of her two younger children, now pre-teens. She taught workshops, wrote a book, and today sells some products which she makes in her spare time, on Etsy. Ffrench is also working on a commission from the Eileen Fisher Co. to create useful products from worn, unusable clothing returned to corporate headquarters in Irvington, New York.

Ffrench's Dino Ragamuffin doll hand sewn from recycled wool sweaters and stuffed with natural raw mohair.

“It is my hope to inspire and bring to light the value and vastness of discarded material in our culture,” ffrench said.

She also offered a unique tip for cleaning her rag rugs: On a fresh layer of snow.

“Spread the dirty rug out and walk all over it (don’t wear muddy boots!) then flip the rug over a new spot in the fresh snow and do the same,” she said. “This technique pulls all the animal hair, dust bunnies and lint balls off the surface. Spills can be cleaned with a gentle scrubbing brush and soapy water.”

Learn more about these artists at their websites: Chris Gustin and Crispina ffrench.