Monthly Archives: November 2011

Lori Nix is an artist and non-traditional photographer who creates dreamy dioramas of imagined environments without digital trickery. Often seen in her work is a yearning for the living jungle to reclaim the urban one.

Her creations all exist in actual space if scaled down a bit: Library (2007) above; Mall (2010) below.

An interesting, er, repurposing of an urban mall not unlike the Hollywood and Highland Center.

Botanical Garden (2008)

California Forest Fire (2002)

And how the magic is created.

Just living is not enough... One must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.

(Hans Christian Anderson, above; R.W. Emerson provided the title.)

How about a conversation island? Let no person inviolate this sacred sanctuary of cocktails and chit-chat.

Whether it's peaceful contemplation or stimulating gatherings, please don't profane this space with talk about religion, politics, or family dynamics. The special vibe contained within is worth protecting.

The fireplace is a nice touch.

A womb with a view:

Disheveled, yes, and you'd definitely not want to be here during an earthquake, but the jittery feel with the fabric, pillows, and books radiates serious cozy.

Here, a more Zen approach to chillin':

This proves anywhere can be sanctuary; you don't even need the room.

So called section of train track in Kleven, Ukraine.

Someone could've easily seen these trees as pests and ordered them eradicated. Glad to see romance prevailed.

Pic discovered at the Landscape Architects Facebook page.

Charles Rennie Mackintosh (1868 - 1928) believed everyone that came to the table deserved a throne. His high backed dining chairs not only radiated royalty but seemed to praise formality in the everyday. Mackintosh came early to the Modernism game and his designs embodied the movement well: Rejecting tradition and even burlesquing it but never without a subtle reverence for it. (Always best to give a nod to the giants that came before.)

More of a niche than a chair, this Mackintosh design shows more than a little of an Asian influence (above). Clearly, it's a design that still resonates as demonstrated in the Philippe Starck chairs (below).

In many of their chairs, contemporaries Frank Lloyd Wright and Mackintosh shared a similar vision. Two of Wright's master works below: The Barrel (below, first) and the Robie House chair (second below).

Before Danish architect Arne Jacobsen bombed the furniture biz in 1952 with his first major success, the innovative Ant (below left) chair, he contemplated the future of Modernist design from the seat of his favorite Eames plywood chair. Soon after, he'd follow with Number 7 in 1955 (below right) to even greater effect. The ne plus ultra of Danish furniture design, Number 7 would go on to sell over 5 million units.

Jacobsen continued to produce iconic pieces throughout the 50s and 60s: Most notably, the Egg (below), Swan (second below), and Drop (third below) chairs.

As students, Eero Saarinen and Charles Eames would collaborate on a collection of furniture that would win first prize in a 1940 exhibition at MoMA "Organic Designs in Home Furnishings." By 1946 Saarinen and Eames would follow their muses seperately: Eames with Herman Miller and Saarinen with Knoll. For the Finnish born Saarinen, this fertile muse would lead him to some of the most renowned chairs ever designed. This included the Ball chair from 1946;

the well furnished playboy's pad staple, the 1968 Bubble chair;

the 1948 Womb chair;

and the chair made famous on the starship Enterprise, the Tulip from 1956.

The Jorge Ferrari-Hardoy designed Butterfly chair would come to rule bourgeois homes of taste in the 60s, even though by this time his 1938 design was practically middle-aged.

Here, the Butterfly elegantly coerces Sophia Loren's knees into the sun.

In 1955 sculptor Harry Bertoia won "Designer of the Year" for what was to become the iconic Diamond chair.

Another chair with considerable aesthetic stamina is the Xavier Pouchard designed Tolix French Café chair from 1934.

The 1006 Emeco Navy Side chair is probably one the world's best known. Founded in 1944 to create a chair for the U.S. navy worthy of a torpedo strike (company founder Wilton Dinges tested the chair by tossing it out of a six-story window), Emeco fabricates the chair in 77 step that is still guided and crafted by hand. (Apparently the curtains may be closing on the traditional process soon.) Despite their sturdiness the chairs are lightweight, the result of being made from corrosion-resistant aluminum. Interior designers would later discover the chair for themselves and pluck them from maritime obscurity. And the rest is aesthetic history.

More recently, Emeco has been producing chairs from recycled materials. This, their plastic version, is called the 111 for the fact that it's made out of 111 recycled Coke bottles. It also comes in a range of colors beyond red.

African-American designer Nathaniel Alexander was first to patent the folding chair (1911). (The idea of the folding chair goes back to the Egpytians.) Though, his version still had a ways to go as it didn't include folding legs, he certainly was a forerunner in what might be the most pervasive chair in modern life. If success in design has anything to do with commonality and use then surely Alexander is one of the giants of the chair.

Even more awesome chair shizznit to come in The Definitive Guide: Part 3; Part 3.

The Agave americana, AKA American aloe or century plant, is a Mexican native cultivated and naturalized all over the temperate world. Its power as an ornamental comes from its color, which can range for soft to vibrant and multi-hued, and its savage appearance: With barbs, spikes, and serrations it provides a nice foil to soft grasses and round leafy shrubs.

The name century plant itself is a bit of mythology. The plant's lifespan is most often 10 to 30 years, with plants known to reach 50, but nowhere near its centenary. This agave produces a vertical spike of flowers from which it propagates new pups. Unlike many other monocarpic agaves that can flower several times during its life, the century will do this only once, the stock serving as its melancholy end of life swansong. (Don't worry, the process is slow.) The semelparous process takes a lifetime for the century to develop the necessary energy to produce its column (which can reach a height of 40 ft). Once done, like the self-sacrificing mother, the plant dies.

So much for the legendary americana: Below, Agave bracteosa or spider agave.

Beyond their ornamental uses, Agaves have provided humans bounty for millennia: The flowers and stalks are edible; the stalks provide sugar for syrup and mezcal (tequila), and as proficient retainers of moisture their inner flesh allows for excellent water collection. Agave also provides substance for multifarious other uses including fibrous hemp for weaving, sewing, and cordage, and "lethally" sharp spikes for needles. No small achievement for a plant requiring so little water.

Various agaves suitable for potting: Above, petite agaves and, below, the Squid agave.

The Mediterranean favorite: Below, Agave attenuata.

Greens of the attenuata can appear to adjust to the varying light.

Agave works well as both soloist and background player, demonstrated here with potted specimens accompanying a raging chorus of bougainvillea.

Agave americana in its native environment, above: A plaza in Mexico city.

What else in the garden can offer such a stunning kaleidoscope of forms? More inspirational agave eye jams found here.

Paint the walls or swath a fabric around a room and it can gush as much color as you like. But this isn't about that. This is about choosing a whisper or a breath, an accent to stand apart.

In design, like art and politics, power can come from the margins.

Here, the blue flowers make a brilliant and contained explosion.

A suggestion of a tint from the windows adds a low chorus to the blue of the sky.

Tomorrow, the table could be red. But for today, it's blue.

Beneath the cabinet there's another margin of opportunity.

The quasi-blue of Mexican Blue Palms at LAX, and the Hilton Hotel in Pattaya, Thailand, with intermittent radiating blue cubes.

Long ago, before the living rooms of America were designed to funnel all attention into home entertainment centers, the social space of well-designed homes would have inhabitants focus on each other rather than appliances. A quintessential example is this seating platform by architect Paul Rudolph from 1955.

Just by the fact we descend into the space transforms the atmosphere into something more rarefied. It practically gushes with implied intimacy.

Perhaps the most iconic of conversation pits, below, from Eero Saarinen’s Miller House in Columbus, Indiana, built in 1957.

The pedigree for the pit may come from the Middle East or North Africa. The Moroccan trend of the early naughties brought a resurgence of conversation spaces, especially outdoor.

Below, a more recent interpretation created by March Studio, Australia.

And more classics of the mid-century:

Another of more recent vintage, below a Chicago townhouse by Roger Hirsch Architect.

As seating, this stark vision in triangles may be more appropriate for lectures on particle physics or hostile take-overs than soft-spoken candlelit conversations.

This example, with its resplendent views of the outdoors and pillowy comforts, invites much more than conversations with its provocative mirrored ceiling.

Thank you to the Ouno design blog for material and inspiration.