Accidentally Wes Anderson

August 15, 2020
All the world's a Wes Anderson film, or so one would glean from this handsome book. "Architecture should be a symphony," said architect John Portman, quoted here in reference to the Regent Singapore Hotel he designed in 1982. One could say the same for interior and exterior design. Few artists know this as well as Anderson, one of the few cinema directors with an unmistakable style: "symmetrical lines, pastel hues, immaculate composition...idiosyncratic and beautiful." In 2017, Koval and his wife began collecting photographs that "shared a resemblance to the look of a Wes Anderson film" and researching the histories behind them. Soon, thousands of equally passionate fans shared their photos of Anderson-ian libraries, swimming pools, coin-operated viewfinders, and more. Koval collected them first in his popular Instagram account and now in this book, with the photos arranged by continent. The result is a delight for Anderson fans and anyone else interested in a world tour of unique venues, including Prague's Hotel Opera, a "hot-pink confection of Bohemian Neo-Renaissance style" that looks strikingly similar to Anderson's Grand Budapest Hotel; the "sleek modern trains" from Slovenian Railways, conveyances similar to the train in The Darjeeling Limited; the "stunning blue tile mosaic windows and inlays" of the Najm al-Imam Religious School in Iraq; and the white-and-red diagonal stripes of Green Point Lighthouse, "the oldest operational lighthouse in South Africa," a structure straight out of Moonrise Kingdom. Some exteriors, such as that of a radio station in Mirny, Russia, are too ramshackle for Anderson's statelier buildings or too pretty for his seedier edifices. For the most part, the book is a visual treat further enlivened by engaging stories. For example, the Pittsburgh Athletic Association was modeled after a Venetian Renaissance palazzo and "was visited with near-daily regularity by America's most special neighbor, Fred Rogers," a Pennsylvania native who liked to use its third-floor pool. A charming, whimsical tribute to the Anderson aesthetic.

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September 14, 2020
Koval gleefully arrays the awe-inspiring products of his Wes Anderson fan-photography Instagram project, an (officially authorized) labor-of-love. The selections in this debut coffee-table conversation-piece are culled from submissions by a “global community of more than one million Adventurers” that recall the filmmaker’s color-saturated oeuvre, many published for the first time here. While it may be impossible to visit the fictitious Grand Budapest Hotel, here are real-life rivals to its nostalgic grandeur, including the Georgian Hotel (California), Hotel Molitor (Paris), and Hotel Sacher (Vienna). Highlights include the Darjeeling Limited–reminiscent narrow La Casa Mínima (Buenos Aires) and gorgeous Amanjena (Marrakech), and shabby-twee Camp Shady Brook (Colorado), à la Moonrise Kingdom. Varying in layout, the images share vibrant color composition, both joyful and surreal. Koval includes brief histories of the locations—such as a capsule backstory to Anderson-film–flexible setting Hearst Castle, in California, and descriptions of the ship port-style windows and “mosaic of light blue tiles” welcoming “seafaring patients” of Buenos Aires Hospital Naval (or perhaps travelers on Life Aquatic). Sometimes, though, the quest to capture the oddball gets carried away, such as a lonely camel-crossing road sign. True to its inspiration, the collection is breathtaking, witty, and happily ambitious, a perfect diversion for film fans and globe trotters alike. Agent: Chris Clemans, Janklow & Nesbit Assoc. (Oct.)
This review has been updated for clarity.

August 19, 2024
The Kovals follow up Accidentally Wes Anderson with another eye-catching compilation of oddball travel destinations that bring to mind the film director’s aesthetic. Sifting through more than 50,000 submissions from members of the Accidentally Wes Anderson online travel community, the Kovals showcase sites on every continent, including Colebrookdale Railroad in Boyertown, Pa., a formerly abandoned train line refurbished in 2014 in a style best described as Industrial-era “pioneer chic”; the wood-paneled Fragata yacht, which ferries passengers to the Galapagos islands; Vermont’s Museum of Everyday Life and its displays of mirrors, toothbrushes, mugs, and other knickknacks; and even the world’s biggest collection of pencils on Granja Arenas, a farm and museum in Colonia, Uruguay. While the book never spells out what makes a destination Anderson-esque (though quaint, whimsical, and brightly colored are common characteristics), the brief histories are irresistibly charming, and the color-saturated photos captivate. Readers will be glad they took the trip.