Shinola’s Newest Watch Is a Handsome, Minimalist Special Edition –

An entry in their Great American Series, Shinola’s newest Canfield watch celebrates the architecture of Minoru Yamasaki, including the McGregor Memorial Conference Center and One Woodward buildings in Shinola’s home base of Detroit. (Yamasaki may be most well known for his design of the World Trade Center.)

Featuring a 38mm stainless steel case with double-domed sapphire crystal, a black mineral-texture dial with alabaster-colored Arabic numerals and hands, a black date wheel, the Argonite 715 quartz movement and black quick-release leather strap, the Yamasaki limited edition is restrained and well-proportioned, much like Yamasaki’s “New Formalism” style of architecture.

A limited edition that ships in a collectible wooden box, the Yamasaki costs $1,000 — not inexpensive for a quartz watch, though the presentation box helps make for an attractive gift, especially for fans of architecture and design.

Learn More: Here

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A comprehensive roundup of our most-recommeneded gifts for everyone from the outdoorsman to the watch snob. Read the Story

Daniel Wellington Opens First Canadian Store in Montréal – Yahoo Finance

MONTRÉAL, Dec. 5, 2019 /CNW/ – Swedish watch and jewelry brand, Daniel Wellington , opened its first Canadian store with Cadillac Fairview at CF Carrefour Laval on November 21 . The 654 square foot retail space was designed by Montréal-based LODA Design and built by prisma construction.

The watch brand has commanded a loyal following in Canada for many years through retail partners and its own website. Now with its first foray in the Canadian market, Daniel Wellington is looking forward to meeting customers where they already are. Daniel Wellington’s Executive Director of the Americas, John Ehrnst , said the opening highlights the potential the brand sees in Canada and allows loyal Canadian customers to receive the same elevated brand experience available at the other hundreds of stores worldwide.

“We are thrilled to be opening our first Canadian store in Québec,” said John Ehrnst, Executive Director for the Americas. “We can finally showcase our full product range to our existing customers in Canada and provide them with the full, elevated Daniel Wellington experience.” 

Daniel Wellington’s high quality-product, designed with precision in Sweden , allows customers to have a deeper appreciation for the design process when they can experience it first-hand. “The one thing you cannot do online is touch and feel the product. We’re excited to offer our very first offline customer experience in Canada ,” said Ehrnst.

Daniel Wellington strategically chose to open their first brick-and-mortar location at CF Carrefour Laval due to its incredible and elevated shopping experience.

“We’re thrilled to partner with Daniel Wellington to welcome the iconic brand to Canada at CF Carrefour Laval,” said Sal Iacono , Executive Vice President of Operations, Cadillac Fairview. “At Cadillac Fairview we are dedicated to delivering an exceptional shopping experience for our guests and introducing first to market retailers like Daniel Wellington is an example of our ongoing commitment.”

The store is open from 10:00 AM to 9:00 PM Monday through Friday , 9:00 AM to 5:00 PM Saturday , and 10:00 AM to 5:00 PM on Sunday .

For more information about Daniel Wellington , please visit

About Daniel Wellington  
Daniel Wellington is a Swedish brand founded in 2011. Known for its sleek and minimalist design, DW offers timeless watches and accessories, worn on all occasions by men and women all over the world. Since its inception, Daniel Wellington has sold over 11 million watches and established itself as one of the fastest growing and most beloved brands in the industry. Daniel Wellington is partnered with distributors in over 37 markets and represented in over 9,000 points of sales worldwide. 

About Cadillac Fairview 
Cadillac Fairview is one of the largest owners, operators and developers of best-in-class office, retail and mixed-use properties in North America . The Cadillac Fairview portfolio is owned by the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Plan, a diversified global investor which administers the pensions of more than 327,000 active and retired school teachers. The real estate portfolio also includes investments in retail, mixed-use and industrial real estate in Brazil , Colombia and Mexico .

Valued at around $32 billion , the Canadian portfolio includes over 37 million square feet of leasable space at 70 properties in Canada , including landmark developments, such as Toronto-Dominion Centre, CF Toronto Eaton Centre, CF Pacific Centre, CF Chinook Centre, Tour Deloitte and CF Carrefour Laval.

Store Info: 
Daniel Wellington 
CF Carrefour Laval 
3003 Boulevard le Carrefour, Laval, QC H7T 1C7
+1 (579) 640-3336 

SOURCE Cadillac Fairview Corporation Limited

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john pawson on minimalism and monks inspired by his calvin klein store – Designboom

british architect john pawson CBE, who founded his firm of the same name in 1981, is often hailed as the father of modern architectural minimalism. although a title he would most likely poke fun at, for almost forty years pawson has championed nothingness as the most straightforward form of beauty. and during his lustrous career, simplicity as a philosophy is something he has explored in retail designs for jil sander, valextra and christopher kane and in various monasteries, churches and museums.

all images courtesy of john pawson architecture studio

john pawson, who dropped out of architecture school when he was younger, credits his learnt discipline in part to japanese designer shiro kuramata with whom he spent six years working with in japan during his late twenties. moving to tokyo, he spent time in his studio, whose work he had stumbled upon some years earlier in a copy of domus magazine.

neuendorf house, mallorca, spain, 1987 – 1989

now 70, pawson recalls this period as the time he learnt the value of hard work and the discipline required for a life in design. he tells the story during the 24th edition of the annual design indaba conference in capetown south africa, in which he was invited to speak on his experience creating calm and simple spaces, spaces we were keen to ask about there origins, what challenges they posed, and if they had room for playfulness… not to mention the monks he recalls wanting a monstery based on his calvin klein store design in 1995. read the interview with john pawson in full below.

valextra store, milan, italy, 2018 – 2019

designboom (DB): what was the most important thing you learnt from your early years working in japan with shiro kuramata?

john pawson (JP): the big thing for him was that design was incredibly serious and hard work and you keep your head down. and then hopefully there’s something at the end of it, but it’s not a given. he always talked about ‘no sparks, no sparks.’ if you saw him and asked ‘how are you shiro?’, he would say ‘no sparks,’ which of course was bollocks because he had the most fertile mind and he said a lot of his inspiration came from dreams. he was a very poetic guy, and not really at all normal. I mean, I just took away the bits of architecture that I thought were really simple.

photograph taken in aram store, london, 1981, (pawson far left, kuramata second left)

DB: when you started to work with shiro, had you already identified yourself as a minimalist?

JP: I mean, I just hung around his office. I didn’t work.

DB: how would you define your philosophy?

JP: I guess I’ve always tried to look for clarity, trying to make space through the things that you have to have. any good adjectives like ‘simple, straightforward’ would be good as a philosophy. it’s interesting because you know, where do aesthetics come from? I think they are just born out of logic. I mean clients expect when you go onsite – they say ‘have you got any ideas?’, and you go, well ‘no, no I don’t, I’m just looking at the site.’ but something always comes. then I come back to the office with whatever I have, and, you know, if they laugh then it usually means it’s not a good idea and they usually have a better one.

van royen apartment, london, 1984 – 1986

DB: and what’s the relationship like with the client after forty years of experience?

JP: I think it’s much easier now, with the age thing and experience. but you know you’re still dealing with clients and they are a special breed and they need a lot of love and care and patience. it’s quite interesting if they’re going to lose it – which is rare but sometimes happens – they avoid losing it with me.

van royen apartment, london, 1984 – 1986

DB: you have completed a lot of projects that involved going into historic spaces and transforming them with a minimalist paintbrush, have you ever been fearful of that?

JP: we are very, very sensitive to the architects and to the people and of course we think that we are improving it. if I don’t think I can contribute or do something with what we have got then I don’t take it. I mean it’s difficult to know to be honest until you have done it but if I am doubtful we don’t do it. but with the church in augsburg, it’s interesting what we have done or what we haven’t done and what a huge difference it makes. you can say that we haven’t effectively changed the structure much but it was a huge job and it was very much our work even though it is a fairly light touch.

moritzkirche, augsburg, germany, 2008 – 2013

DB: there’s an interesting point that minimal spaces as a place for contemplation lend themselves to – perhaps not religion – but a spiritual sense of self.

JP: yeah but it doesn’t preclude using it for commercial purpose now. in jaffa, in the hotel, we had the chapel deconsecrated. this happened to the chapel where the nuns were because owners bought the monastery from the nuns and we transformed the church into another space. it had to be deconsecrated and there were people who said ‘what are you doing?’. you know, normally I convert discotheques back into churches, not the other way around.

calvin klein collections store, new york, 1993 – 1995

DB: do you see your work as being inspired or informed by spirituality or religious themes?

JP: I mean, my grandparents were methodists and went to chapel twice on sunday. my parents obviously inherited both sides of their parents so then my parents had that… my mother did a bit of church-going and my father, not much. but I would never – you know, I’m an architect and I’m putting bricks and mortar together using whatever means I can to produce a building to suit the client. and if it happens to be monks, you know, they want to be closer to god. so, you know, you’re trying to manipulate the light and space and everything else to help them get there.

calvin klein collections store, new york, 1993 – 1995

JP continued: that doesn’t mean that I have to be religious myself or that I would imbue any non-religious building with the spirit. I mean, the monks said that they saw the calvin klein store, in fact, they saw a photograph of the calvin klein store and they thought, well, that would make a good church. yeah, because if you remember, I mean, jesus first gave communion on the kitchen table. I mean, to have an altar as a table – I mean alters are tables – it’s not a big leap. the monks wanted something for them and they didn’t care that it was a fashion store.

the jaffa hotel & residences, jaffa, tel aviv, israel, 2007 – 2018

DB: do you think there’s room for those types of spaces to merge – can minimalism be playful?

JP: well you can play in them but personally I don’t think there’s any room for playfulness in architecture.

the jaffa hotel & residences, jaffa, tel aviv, israel, 2007 – 2018

DB: why?

JP: because it is it has to hang around for so long.

DB: then do you think playfulness is a sign of short term vision?

JP: if it’s, in a sense, childish or it’s a joke, or some visual joke, of course. if you say playfulness in terms of corbusier, or picasso, a painting, then no.

cannelle cake shop, london, 1987 – 1988

DB: so, whilst minimalism might be seen as being a little austere, are there little nuances that could be framed as being playful? I think about you the cake shop you designed in london for instance.

JP: oh, yes, yes. in that sense, yeah. I mean, manipulating light and the variety of the changing of light, movement and water. there are lots of things.

DB: do you ever project into the future, imagining how architecture might become?

JP: I’m very open. I have a fairly conservative view of building. I mean, clearly we’re going to reuse existing buildings more and readapt them for current use and how they are used will change but fundamentally nothing’s changed since the romans. if it is still concrete, brick, glass and space, and manipulating space. all the other things change in terms of how rules are used but there are still rules.

perspectives, st paul’s cathedral, london, 2011

JP continued: I am just trying to think of my sons. it is interesting because my oldest son caius has a series of bands like the XX and sampha, and stuff like that, and he wanted a john pawson house. he bought a house and I did it up. he wanted what I do. I was fully expecting him to find a young architect and have something different. I’ve never forced my stuff onto them because I mean, mine is a complete reaction to my father.

pawson house, london, 1992 – 1994

DB: what do you mean?

JP: well, their house was full of antiques.

DB: so your style is kind of a rebellion against what you grew up in.

JP: yeah. I mean there is a lot of my dad in me but my son’s interestingly like minimal spaces. the thing is, caius keeps booking our country house, for his big media type meetings.

I Heard God in a Grain of Sound –

Minimalist grandmaster Terry Riley is performing a must-see, career-spanning concert at Benaroya Hall in February. Leo Zarosinski

Not to put too fine a point on it, but Terry Riley’s music is my religion, my drugs, my ultimate source of peace—although not necessarily in that order. In my musical pantheon, he occupies the upper echelon, along with Miles Davis, Alice Coltrane, Can, Funkadelic, Jon Hassell, Brian Eno, and Wolfgang Dauner. The 84-year-old California composer/keyboardist has become one of the most influential musicians of the last 50 years among artists seeking to tap into that ocean of sound at the intersection of minimalist composition, drone, and tape-based experimentation.

While Riley’s music is revered by the more freethinking academics, it doesn’t come off as dry and stuffy, like much highbrow output from the neoclassical realm does. Rather, his epic trance-outs are redolent of outdoor raves, psychedelic jam band shows, and Indian raga concerts in the way they accrue a hallucinogenic effect over long durations. Imbued with a pantheistic spiritual profundity, Riley’s music seeks to immerse you in the infinite.


In a conversation with fellow American avant-garde composer Robert Ashley, Riley said: “Music is my spiritual path. It’s my way of finding out who I am. The rhythms of the land that you live in, the way the sun affects you, have an impact. I think our music has to come out of the land.” This strikes me as odd, because Riley’s music seems to emanate from vast bodies of water and deep space.

Similarly strange is the sense that his compositions seemingly derive from ragas, North African Sufi/Moroccan devotional music, and gamelan, but Riley insists that they have roots in that echt American art form, jazz. After Riley became a student of vaunted Hindustani singer Pandit Pran Nath in 1970, he began to delve deeper into the intricacies of raga and extended vocal phrasings. Decades later, those elements continue to impact his creativity.

Out of this vital cultural cauldron, Riley has emerged as one of the world’s most ingenious improvisers, a minimalist who possesses an unerring knack for the tones and chords that trigger the most powerful holy and healing forces—regardless of your religion, or lack thereof.

Riley’s run of recordings from the early 1960s to the mid 1980s ranks as one of the greatest hot streaks in musical history. So much amazing music surfaced during this period that it’s impossible to do it justice in the space I have here. But since he’s coming to perform here in February, I’ll discuss some of the highlights.

Music for the Gift (from 1963 and featuring jazz icon Chet Baker on trumpet) established Riley as a unique presence in avant-garde music. It represents one of the first uses of Plunderphonics in a recording, with Riley warping and disrupting Jr. Walker & the Allstars’ R&B hit “Shotgun” into a shattered cubist sculpture. As the piece progresses, Riley renders the sample source to charred detritus and generates a Rube Goldberg machine–like nightmare out of the atomized sound. Music for the Gift stands as Riley’s strangest material; he probably rarely thinks about it, but it still sounds ahead of its time.

The 1964 piece In C has been accurately called the big bang of minimalist music. It’s an endlessly adaptable work, as radical versions done by the Japanese rock group Acid Mothers Temple, the Canadian ensemble L’Infonie, and the Damon Albarn collaboration with Malian musicians Africa Express prove. No matter how it’s rendered, In C is a wondrous gust of fresh air. It gives you the sense of something momentous happening, of many little wings beating relentlessly in a patient ascendance to the heavens, a feathery confluence of mini-ecstasies that you hate to see end. Although it came to prominence in 1968 when CBS issued it on LP, In C—which Riley and Seattle Symphony performed outside of Seattle Art Museum in 2013—transcends its era. One can envision every generation zoning out to its hypnotic undulations till the electricity runs out.

Olson III is a massive piece full of seesawing violins and eerie, automaton chanting recorded in 1967 with a Stockholm, Sweden, high-school band. It emphasizes Riley’s reliance on repetition as a means to attain transcendence and hypnosis… or perhaps insanity in those not blessed with long attention spans. Olson III sounds like something Stanley Kubrick might have used in a sequel to 2001: A Space Odyssey—or to score an even more sinister film in the vein of A Clockwork Orange.

One of Riley’s most popular recordings, A Rainbow in Curved Air is an unbelievably euphoric geyser of bubbly, bejeweled keyboard effusions. Hearing it is akin to receiving a deep-tissue massage and getting your brain fluffed… in a jacuzzi. We are not worthy of this, but Riley magnanimously bestows the aural blessings anyway. I recommend daily listens upon waking for optimal mental health.

On “All Night Flight” from 1968, Riley uses soprano saxophone, organ, and time-lag accumulator to create an opus that sporadically spasms out of joint, like an opiated dream interrupted by random strong breezes. It’s an extended exercise in shuddering ecstasy.

Church of Anthrax with former Velvet Underground bassist/violist John Cale proved that Riley could thrive in an art-rock context—and even get complexly funky, as the duo does on the monumental title track, which I’ve dropped into DJ sets with rewarding results.

In the liner notes for the 2017 reissue of Persian Surgery Dervishes, which documents concerts in Los Angeles and Paris circa 1971 and 1972, Julian Cowley perceptively summarized Riley’s MO: “In the coiling melodies and whirling repetitions of his keyboard solos, he nonetheless sought to connect with the universal mind and to draw music from that source, without the hindrance of a score or any restrictive sense of his own technical limitations.” This is mercurial trance music of the highest order, born out of superhuman keyboard wizardry.

Shri Camel is the Riley album that perhaps resonates most strongly with me, as I first heard it while tripping on acid… in Akron, Ohio. Uh-huh. It felt as if Riley’s organ tones were communicating on a subatomic level, each triumphal chord cluster and bassy pulsation murmuring that even my miserable self was one with the universe and that whatever passed for my soul would prosper for eternity (preferably not in Akron). What a splendid delusion! I have eternal gratitude for that glimpse into paradise. (The Last Camel in Paris—which is available only on a CD released by Elision Fields in 2008—serves as a live addendum to Shri Camel and as an essential elaboration of this classic album’s panoply of chakra-tickling keyboard tones.)

Released in 1982 but recorded in Berlin in 1975, Descending Moonshine Dervishes is perhaps Riley’s last classic full-length. It’s one of those massive works that move within narrow parameters, but Riley uncannily finds the most sublime tones/timbres/chords/oscillations to propel it, minute variation after minute variation, toward the stars. Possessing the most majestic throb, Descending Moonshine Dervishes could work as an alternative soundtrack to Koyaanisqatsi. It mirrors Philip Glass’s obsessive-compulsive genius and thrillingly manic pulsations, but Riley’s timbral choices, if I may be so bold, surpass Glass’s. On certain days, this feels like the best Riley album.

You will hear many such elements of Riley’s sublime, six-decade body of work when he takes the stage at Benaroya Hall with perhaps his most sympathetic collaborator—his versatile, virtuoso guitarist son Gyan Riley.