in the news (144)

4 photo(s)

march 2015 | by susan jurasz

Fifteen years after we started work on the Hells Canyon Scenic Byway, we took a quick weekend road trip to update some exhibit panels. The weather was outstanding for February, and what we had planned as a three day installation trip, looked as though it might be completed in half the time.

We reached Baker City before noon, and started on the eastern portion of the Byway loop. The colors along the river were stunning. In the summer, the ribbon of vegetation along the river is the only green for miles; in the winter, its colors were like fire: bright yellows, oranges, and reds of the new twiggy growth of dogwood and willow. Set against the rolling amber hills, the brilliant blue sky was starting. Amid all this lovely color, It was good to see our exhibits and structures withstanding the test of time and weather. Everything looked great.

The weather was so balmy that we considered driving the National Forest portion of the loop, Hwy 39, thought the Wallowa mountains, but after two quick calls to the Forest Service field offices, we had to abandon the plan. Both offices said: Absolutely not, the road is closed for winter. So, we back-tracked to Baker City and La Grande, had a great dinner at the Lostine Tavern and spent the night in Joseph.

We woke up to a world of white. Over five inches of snow blanketed the earth outside our windows. This added a whole new dimension to the beauty! Living in the forested woodlands of the west coast of Oregon, it always amazes me the diversity of this state — and all within a half a day’s drive.

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february 2015 | by kathy hocker

In this new project, Sea Reach is tasked with designing and fabricating interpretive exhibits for the US District Court—Eastern Washington District. It was a memorable site visit: humbling and inspiring, in about equal portions.

First, the setting: the Thomas S. Foley Federal Courthouse, towering over its Spokane neighbors, with an imposing Modernist design. Each time the Sea Reach team entered the building, we ran the gauntlet of security—metal detector, x-ray, and all. Inside: tall ceilings, the hush of serious work, sober hallways hung with judges’ portraits.

Next, the people we met with: the Clerk of the Court and a Deputy Clerk (basically the CEO and highest administrator of the Court), District Court Judges, a Bankruptcy Court judge, and building managers. To a person, they were intensely articulate, deeply knowledgeable, and passionate about the federal justice system—a body that, as one of the judges succinctly put it, constitutes "a third and equal branch" of the United States Government.

Finally, the subject: the history of this District Court, its landmark decisions, and its role. This is where I feel pretty ignorant at present! People come to federal courts as jurors, witnesses, plaintiffs, and defendants. They come for bankruptcy hearings and naturalization ceremonies. But I’ve never had close contact with a Federal Court, that I know of—I suspect that’s true of a lot of us.

Humbled and inspired by the "third and equal branch…" I’m looking forward to learning more.

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february 2015 | by susan jurasz

In our design/build projects, I still feel a little jolt of surprise when the finished product looks just like the drawings we have been nurturing and finessing for months. The design phase is full of ideas and time spent working with clients. Then the product goes into fabrication. It enters our shop and becomes a reality; colors, textures, and shape are suddenly given dimension. I love it!

Our most recent experience of this realization is on our project with Lake Oswego Parks and Recreation. After years of nursing old wooden signs that had to be repainted annually, the City of Lake Oswego hired Sea Reach to consult with the park facilities crew (an awesome group of people!) to design and build longer-lasting, more durable park identity signs.

The new signs are fabricated of weathering steel, stained concrete, and automotive paint with a clear coat. The park names and addresses are applied with a series of layered paint runs and masks. The result: great-looking, durable signs...that won't need to be repainted every year.

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february 2015 | by cory schott

I like to use anecdotes and personal vignettes to introduce interpretive themes. It makes unfamiliar or difficult subjects or concepts relatable on a personable level. If the topics are salacious in nature…all the better! The scandal serves to entice the reader and, if crafted carefully, gets them engaged in a topic that’s larger and more important.

It’s a fine line to walk when using these types of stories meant for public consumption. An interpretive panel on gang violence or prostitution from 10 years ago might hit a raw nerve, yet one on prohibition bootleggers (also violent) or occupations for women in mining camps in the 19th century (a census of a 1880s mining camp near the Comstock mine in Nevada, found 80 prostitutes) would be OK.

Ultimately, trying to figure out which scandalous topics are palatable is a bit of a guessing game. It’s usually a matter of how long ago some of these events took place and reminds me of the expression "comedy = tragedy + time." Generally speaking, that means two generations. It seems that World War II is often the arbitrary cutoff for writing about uncomfortable or unseemly topics, especially on interpretive panels, which are often erected to put a place in a positive light.

However, I’m always pushing our clients—and fellow historians—to push that date forward. It’s time to reclaim the recent past, warts and all. By doing so, then perhaps we can get at some real "meaty" topics that move people and make them think.

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february 2015 | by peter reedijk | show project

The design parameters were simple: design a sign system that will withstand vandalism, last for at least 20 years, is cost effective, and can be used by pedestrians, bikers, and horse riders.

OK. We like a challenge.

The first consideration: vandalism. Designing around this matter ripples through the rest of the design parameters. You either design something that is relatively simple and typically cheap to produce and replace it as needed, or use a material that can withstand abuse and can last for a long time, although the durability usually adds expense. According to our clients, the main problem in the park is graffiti tagging and, in extreme circumstances, attempts to destroy anything in sight. We decided to create a sign system with a relatively small available surface area to discourage the tagging of signs. By combining the upright with the sign panel (message), we eliminated hardware and possible weak points in the assembly. The materials used have an extremely long life and can be cleaned in a straightforward manner. Even when thoroughly abused, they can be resurfaced and reinstalled.

The second problem: the signs need to target multiple user groups. Pedestrians—no problem. The speeds that they travel at means that sign messages can be easily seen. Cyclists and trail riders, on the other hand, need to have good target value and should be able to read the signs from further away. The eventual solution presented itself by solving the vandalism problem. The sign legends are cut out of the signpost using a specially modified font that looks better than the usual stencil font. The font is large enough to increase the visibility to 30 feet. The yellow sign stands out enough so bikers have time enough to notice it while traveling at high speeds, and horse riders can read the signs while sitting in the saddle.

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january 2015 | by michael warner

Not a phrase you hear very often as an illustrator. Especially coming from a client that you’ve met a grand total of 1 time and who has never seen your artwork. Most people might think it would be liberating. Not me. Usually this statement is followed up at a later date with one of many dreaded statements: "I didn’t think it would look like that," "Why did you choose that style?" or the always popular "Huh."

But obviously I did something right in a previous life, because when David, a teacher at Pleasant Valley School outside of Portland told me, "Do whatever you think looks good" he meant it. From rough sketches to final art, everything went smoother than I could have ever imagined. Which is great for many reasons. Not only because I wanted my illustrations to accomplish their goal, but because I personally like what the Pleasant Valley School is doing with the Wildside, and loved being a small part of it.

Let me explain. Pleasant Valley School took 8 acres of mainly blackberry bushes and scrub brush, and transformed them into a beautiful burgeoning forest. Schoolchildren tore the place up and started from scratch. Ground that was once covered with mostly invasive species is now the home to thousands of native trees planted by the students themselves. What was an area devoid of biodiversity now teems with varied wildlife. Garter snakes take shelter under tin and wood frames made for them by the students. Hawks and owls sit atop school-made perches looking for the unwary mouse, vole, or snake. Deer wander in to bed down or eat from one of the fruit trees. Even coyotes wander in to take advantage of this tiny island created in the midst of a neighborhood.

The children of the school worked very hard to make the Wildside into the forest it is today. Along the way, they learned why they were doing it, and what made it so special. I’m just hoping that if I come back in 10 years my panels will have helped everyone else understand also.

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january 2015 | by gidget price | show project

We just recently finished up a project in the Spring Mountains of Nevada. Nearing the end of the fabrication process, our lead fabricator came to me with an urgent request to find some large bolts, equivalent to the size of a lag bolt. Normally, we order all vandal-proof hardware which requires special driver. The typical profile is a star or hex with a central pin.

I went to our normal supplier. Given the size of the bolts, these turned out to be a specialty item and it would take a few weeks to get them to us. We needed them… like yesterday. Onward to another supplier. This supplier had them in stock but for the price of 15 bolts, was pretty close to $550. We were like "ouch" that’s not reasonable.

As I went back to our fabricator and discussed the difficulties I was having finding these particular bolts. He informed me that the bolts would be placed at the very top of the structure, 20 feet off the ground! In that case, we wouldn’t need to have the tamper proof bolts! I am glad I asked! So off I went to find these massive bolts without the center pin. I went back to our original supplier—they were in stock and we could have them the next day. Oh wait, better yet, guess the price? Less than $100. Only difference was the pin.


january 2015 | by ben harrison

I am alone in our print shop. Not so uncommon really, I often work in here alone; I am the production manager after all, it comes with the territory. It is however uncommonly quiet. No machines running, nothing printing, the loud clunky heater has been turned down as well. No hustle and bustle of people coming in and out, to and fro, through the shop to place or remove items for production. Just me, and the quiet. It has to be quiet, you understand, so the recording comes out clean. Voice recording; a voiceover to be specific. I am recording the audio for a presentation.

You would think just standing in front of microphone and talking really wouldn’t take a lot of energy. You would be mistaken. When the only tool you have is your voice, every word has to carry all the energy and feeling of the script. Unlike traditional acting you don’t have your body language and facial expressions to help convey the message, just your voice. And it is strangely taxing. I don’t know how Jim Dale ever recorded the Harry Potter series. I’m recording a 15 min script and it took the better part of 4 hours.

But despite all the hard work, recording is also fun. Being able to lend your voice to a script, to be the main speaker of a narrative part is pretty fun. It’s rewarding to see the entire presentation put together and hear you own voice coming from the speakers, taking viewers on this interpretive journey.

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january 2015 | by melissa boettcher

Over the last few months, we have been taking design intent packages for various National Park Service sites and turning them into fabrication-ready documents. While that may sound rather straightforward, in reality the process can be quite complex. Designers often pick the wrong types of materials for the application, create overly complex designs, pick costly options, or even design components that defy physics! So, we have to try to interpret the design intent and then fit it into reality.

Particular designs can also present safety issues, so we regularly redesign to mitigate any potentially dangerous outcome. One design had a brochure box with a lid that could snap back into place a little too quickly, so we added some gas shocks to keep fingers safe.

Our submitted solutions and drawings are easy to read, but also help clients understand what our intentions are for changes and solutions. These are just a few tasks an industrial designer goes through to make an object that is friendly for the user and easy to fabricate. This process blends equal parts experience, research, and a close reading of the design intent so that an idea becomes reality.

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january 2015 | by ben harrison

Its good to be back…

The holidays are a wonderful time of year, for all of us to take some time and reflect and relax at the end of each year. But as the calendar page turns, they must sadly come to an end. The inexorable march of time forces us to set aside our eggnog to venture bravely out into a new year.

As the manager of our print shop I made sure it was nice and clean before I left, only to find it less clean then I remembered upon my return. How do these things happen? Why hasn’t someone made an attempt to catalog such phenomena? Just like every year I carefully coil my strands of lights while putting them away and every time I pull them out a year later they are impossibly tangled.

Much like the dust and strange light tangling, I’ve come back to find that things are not quite how I left them--perhaps shop elves are about? There is a strange amount of work to be done, before I can begin working. At the same time there is something nice about this part of the cycle. It’s a "gear up phase" as I like to think of it. The cleaning, the fixing, and testing of all the equipment in my shop — all has a feeling of preparation; a certain excitement and promise of the great things to come in a new year.

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