design

  • Nature as a mentor

    Shapes and forms matter. In the pattern-seeking modules of the human brain, shapes and forms communicate; what they communicate to you will be a product of the culture and territory in which you were formed. For some reason culture is particularly when shapes are combined into more complex configurations. The one exception is organic forms, especially plants. Their symbolism tends to be more universal as they are seen to be pleasing and comforting by all. To us, a plant's asymmetry conveys spontaneity. The history of plants being used in the sculptural forms and motifs of many traditions goes back eons. These motifs were seen as a way of expressing everything from long life, healing, renewal, to fertility, strength and longevity. Perhaps for their medicinal as well as poisonous characteristic––life giving and life ending––plants supernatural project supernatural qualities in traditional art like magic, prophecy, and all seeing also charge traditional plant symbolisms in art.

    Organic forms can also have a transformative role in the context of a design. As in the Sebastian Errazuriz Tree Table below, the mix of the organic with the industrial in the material and shape of the branch table base has the effect of softening the industrial-ness of glass.

    Korean designer Chul An Kwak's eschews the static. He found inspiration in the movement of a running horse but knew he wouldn't get there with straight planar legs and right angles. Through his use of sculpted wood, the designer wanted to convey not just dynamic motion but dynamic emotion. The table have feeling of unresolved tension, as if it trying to escape from the room,  a horse galloping to freedom.

    Below, another Korean, artist MyeongBeom Kim takes the concept to the extreme, in the case of the carved out chair from the tree he plays with industrializing the chair's organic source material, and in the urinal piece below that, nature beautifully blooms from the abundance of human waste. Below Kim's work, nature—either as a single element or as a faux jungle—projects a sense of vigor and hope into a stark hardscape or an otherwise barren vista.

    Below, Kim may be commenting on the diminishing natural environment, our profligate use of water, and unsustainable production of waste.

    Above, the accidental forest; below, the domestic micro-jungle; and below next, an integration of the urban with what it replaced.

    A forest appears to be grow from the model's head like Athena out of the forehead of Zeus. Below, nature manipulated by nature as if they were bespoke creations made to order. At bottom: The building's glass gives back some of the sky.

  • The Domesticated Forest

    Traditionally, the mash up of plants and buildings was an exercise in poetic symbolism. To wit: At the Princeton Ivy Club the mortared walls are well rooted for posterity–literally–with clinging ivy and the shelter of trees.

    In the contemporary version, there's a new urgency: Faced not only with the necessity of making the most of our diminishing space and resources, how can we create more public greenspace as our potential undeveloped lands are disappearing?

    Here are some ideas for making the most of our finite leftovers.

    Besides visually expanding greenspace, plantings on building walls and roofs offer other advantages. Plants act as insulation against heat and cold, absorb rainwater, create wildlife habitat, and on a larger scale help lower urban temperatures and mitigate the heat island effect (a phenomenon of hardscaped cities creating more heat than the surrounding rural space). Plus, the ability of living plants to act as carbon storage batteries in an era of global climate change may be vital.

    Interiors can be green integrated too.

    The potential of green building is on display in this shop of Belgian designer Ann Demeulemeester in the Gangham district of Seoul. The architect was Korean architect Minsuuk Cho of the firm Mass Studies. The building features include a planted façade and a moss-lined internal stairway. For a more detailed vision of the project, see here.

    Photos by Yong-Kwan Kim

    This building, the brainchild of Vietnamese architect Vo Trong Nghia, has been touted for its innovative integration of plants and architecture in a location especially known for its high temperatures, heavy rain, and sometimes day-long power shortages. The plants provide privacy while allowing for ventilation and natural daylighting.

    More on this house here.

    Below, more Vo Trong Nghia and his work in Viet Nam.

    Here, Vo Trong's Wind and Water Bar: Not exactly a construction of living material but material that is only recently departed.

    This planted façade is from a mixed-use building in Odawara, Japan.

    And this, a banana plantation–or the modern urban equivalent–in the middle of Paris:

    The urban forest in Tokyo: Quite possibly the future everywhere.

  • Carlo Scarpa: Drawings, Details, & Other Delicacies, Pt 1

    At first glance the buildings of Venetian architect Carlo Scarpa appear severe and nearly monolithic, a kind of Brutalism meets Deco by way of Japan with a few splices of Russian Constructivism and Italian sensuousness.

    Only upon closer study are the delicacy and detail of his buildings revealed. It's those meticulous watchmaker-like details that draw us in.

    For his Brion Tomb the Japanese Ensō intersects the long plane of a poured stone wall: Under Scarpa's delicate hand they are like two bullet holes of zen enlightenment artfully blasted into a military bunker.

    The stroke of the chisel above and the caress of the sandpaper below.

    Below, a riff on the Fibonacci sequence: Curves, spirals, and triangles mingle with the quadrilinear while neutrals and colors converge with wood and stone.

    What is now a dying art was once the artist's telescoped message to the observer of the designer's mysterious process: Another unfortunate artifact in the age of computers, Scarpa's drawings are as distinguishable to the master's work as were Frank Lloyd Wright's to his own.

    Below, Scarpa's drawings for Olivetti Design Camp competition, 1956.

    Below, studies for the Gavina store mosaic, 1961-63:

    Below, drawings for a holy-water stoup (left) and constructional details for a candelabrum:

    Images and quotes below taken from the book Carlo Scarpa: The Complete Works by Francesco Dal Co & Guisseppe Mazzariol.

    Scarpa's work is made up of fragments without being fragmentary. Vittorio Gregotti

    ... these fragments are both the remains of a completed construction and the uncompleted and unplaced elements of a construction yet to be built. But they are not fragments of history, nor are they splinters of the future. These fragnemts are the remains of a solitude, that of a master who had the courage not to desire pupils. Franco Purini

  • Building out with the built-in

    Built-in seating (table optional) can give a project a more formal, architectural look. It can also provide an architectural point of interest for luring guests outside. The orderliness and permanence of it contrasts nicely with plantings and other organic materials surrounding it.

    Sean has designed and built seating fixtures for various Knibb Design projects over the years, some of which can be seen in this newsletters, here and here.)

    Note the rough natural edge to the underside of both the table and the bench:

    Constructions can offer a zen-like appearance to a garden as well, with their resolute lines, boundaries, and geometry. A built planter can also achieve this to a degree but seating adds the human component. By inviting us in it makes us another aspect of the garden of the garden itself.

    For want of a garden a new view helps:

  • Intersections & collisions, pt 1

    The mixing of culture and traditions can very often yield exciting new possibilities, sometimes, even radical ones. When it comes to design this mixing may include aspects of style, material, era, technology, region, language, etc, etc, and any combination of the above. It is in these intersections that the real leaps forward occur.

    Above, a chair as an homage to the George Corliss, inventor of the first independent steam engine and great Rhode Islander, as created by the Providence based Studio Dunn. An aluminum back harmoniously intersects the curve of the maple seat.

    Below, the Il Capo Dining Table by Creazioni: divided into ¾ minimalist and ¼ ornate sections which can be separated with different finishes.

    The Recession Chair by Dutch company Tjep:

    The symbolic piece begins as a stock IKEA wood chair and is then sanded down to skeletal proportions. By the end of the process the chair is too fragile to be of much use for sitting.

    The Bare Bones Ghost Chair: Six pieces of driftwood and and two sheets of Acrylic. Each chair is custom made to order; from the Esty universe.

    Christian Fiebig's rendition of the classic Chesterfield chair in polygonally trimmed foam and square powder coated tubing:

    The Eros chair from Philippe Starck: A mash up of the Donald Knorr 132 Knoll Chair and the Lina Bo Bardi Bowl Chair with the legs of the Eames Eiffel Tower.

    Look closely at the couch below—it's actually molded concrete.

    The W(hole) Commode designed by Ferrucio Laviani for Fratelli Boffi: A mahogany and brass Louis XV pierced with a fuchsia hole.

    The French designer Christian Astuguevieille’s Saulorme Chair has a bent chestnut wood frame and rope shag seat:

    Thrown out pieces of Victorian furniture are repurposed with concrete by James Plumb, a cooperation between British designers James Russel and Hannah Plumb.

    The Louis XV-cum-Age of Plastic style of Queen of Love comes in a variety of day-glo colors and is suitable for both indoors and out. Designed by Graziano Moro and Renato Pigatti, the full sized chair is spacious enough to seat two intimately. Their managed vulgarity had one blog referring to them as the "Big Pimps of lawn chairs."

  • More arbor amour

    Originally designed most likely as a way to extend the use of precious timber, pergolasgoing back at least as long as the Egyptians, say 3000 years give or takewere in their earliest forms coverings with spaced slats. Over these slats were grown vines or fruit trees. These covered seating areas would used in the more temperate regions as a cool respite for the sedentary pursuit of watching the wildlife from your back porch, de rigueur for the noble class of 17th century England.

    Here, paradise and cocktails under the logs:

    If their design began as a practical matter we've so long ago grown enamored by their sheer object beauty of the things that their essential function hardly matters anymore. We just love to look at them. Most of the great gardens have at least one if not more.

    A stone cold rush of rustic with a mixer of Mediterranean:

    Wine and pyramids under the shady green:

    Detached from the natural garden and incorporated into the paved one, pergolas are often used as a poolside shelter.

    The word pergola, originally from the Latin, literally refered to a "covered eave." It is part of a tradition that traveled the world. Moroccan style, below:

    It's been argued that it was the Italians during the Renaissance who first  incorporated the shelters as free standing elements in their formal gardens. In Italian pergola means "a close walk of boughs."

    Here, a constructed forest featuring roses and waterlilies.

    As interpreted by Andrea Cochran:

    Cloth will work nicely, too.

    A more finished rendition from architect Daniel J. Lieberman:

    Small is also good.

    The room without walls:

  • Raising the floor (some more)

    We've tread this flooring path before and again two years ago. At the time, plank floors were on an ascent as a design trend and well covered amongst the designer literati. Since then, choices have evolved and expanded. We offer some of the more noteworthy.

    Three examples of a more straight ahead vision of the wood plank floor: Shiniest and straightest above with increases in rusticity as it goes down.



    We've established the theme; below are the variations:

    The Bolefloor, hardwood cut along the curves of the natural grain:

    A plank floor with coordinated colors streaked into the grain:

    Violet, here:

    Rustic herring bone:

    And a super tarted-up version:

    Yet another approach to wood:

    Not entirely sure if this floor is even wood, there was no corroborating information given with the image. (There appears to be no seams like you find with tiling.) Whatever it is, it's a bold statement.

    Mafi features a line of natural wood flooring in a variety of 3-d textures:

    Another Mafi offering: Carving Grunge 1.

    A medley of grains: This patterned wood floor is reminiscent of rusted iron, playing with the perception of the material.

    An interesting mix of textures: In a design by designer Waldo Fernandez a wood floor overlayed with a rug that has the appearance of a wood floor.

    Often in Sean's garden designs, he has used patterns of stone dissolving into lawn or greenery. Here, similarly, tile and wood visually melting together:

    A medley of tiles: Different tile patterns and styles blended for impact.

    In this design, as seen in the plans below, the medley was executed from room to room so that every room had its own bold tile patterns. Examples follow:

    And even bolder:

    Not tile but concrete with random gum spots:

  • The appeal of teal

    It seems the hue we think of as teal tends to be more of an umbrella term than a specific color. We know it's generally considered blue-green but it can run the gamut of light blue to greenish gray. One person's teal may be another person's turquoise.

    As colors tend to have faddish runs in design culture, teal had a brief one of its own recently. Teal is also a classic hue that never goes out of fashion.


    The word itself comes from the Teal duck which displays the color on its head. Also below, a tropical sea, peacock feather, satellite view of a plankton bloom, and an agate rock give further proof of nature's own predilection for the hue.

    In an environment of neutrals teal bangs up nicely.

    Subject to the cycles of fashion Teal is also a classic that never goes completely out of fashion. Land's End and Abercrombie & Fitch will always have space for teal in their catalogs.

    Part of teal's success as a fashion color has to do with its complimentary effect on the natural pinks of light skin. As you can see above, it seems to work with skin of any tone.


    More teal and neutrals interplay:

    Teal pumping up the vibe of an office space.

    In a more traditional, low key setting:



    And the slightly more garish:


  • Nothing is the new something

    Designers design. Clients expect something designerly and magical. In the process a designer is often tempted to leave some of him/herself behind. Actors might call this chewing up the scenery. For a designer it's more like a spitting out, leaving his/her DNA all over the place. It's an affliction that effects young designers especially. It's not necessarily a bad thing, the only test worth considering is whether the work is good. In making the case for restraint, great industrial designer Dieter Rams said: "Good design is as little design as possible." (See here for Rams's Ten Principles of Good Design.) Interior designer Ettore Sottsass said the best decoration is a kind of "ritual whisper."

    But not everyone is looking for a whisper. For those who prefer their design with a louder voice, there's plenty of support for that too.

    The image above from Elle Decor's A-list of Top 25 Decorators. (See more here.) Not to decry design that is designerly, minimalism and reductivism present a different ambiance. As a vibe it's a whole other frequency. There are always many possible solutions for good design, Dieter Rams aside.

    A room from legendary interior decorator Albert Hadley:

    Hadley creates a spirited conversation with texture, bold patterns, shocks of color, and material contrasts: Like a family discussing politics during a holiday dinner.

    Now, for something completely different: The infamous Lower East Side apartment of MoMA curator Klaus Biesenbach.

    The color scheme is black and white and his decor is nearly non-existent. "Empty" and "vacuum" are some of the words critics have used to describe it. Biesenbach believes the room should frame the spectacular views outside his window, no obstruct it with decoration. The above mentioned Hadley might not agree: So many people arrange furniture in order to see what’s going on outside. But why? The view isn’t going anywhere.”

    It brings to mind the movie cliché of the brilliant scientist who fills his closet with copies of one essential outfit. Here, the quiet, minimal approach seems also to be attempting an ambiance to save valuable brain resources like the brilliant scientist's closet. A piece in the New York Times put it this way:

    "I hate design," Mr. Biesenbach will tell you emphatically. When he travels he has the habit of stripping his hotel room of anything that moves (furniture, colored pillows, desktop accessories) and stuffing it all into the closet. "It's a little bit of a curatorial disease," he said. "I like to reduce everything to its surface."

    Biesenbach's closet, not unlike the scientist's:

    An overview of the space including balcony garden:

    After living in an mostly empty apartment, Biesenbach lent an artist friend his apartment for a summer. The friend brought in a white sofa and table and chairs. To offset the potential "clutter," one supposes, the friend painted every other remaining non-white surface white, including the TV and microwave (the TV survived the painting, the microwave didn't).

    More on this story here.


    Interesting how controversial the apartment is on the interwebs. Some have the called the project "anti-design." Well, if that's what it is it's hostile territory

    CBS Sunday Morning spoke with Biesenbach about the apartment:

  • Its leaves scatter and point to every part of the sky

    The great olive: An essential part of early Mediterranean civilazations. It was featured generously in both the Bible (mentioned 30 times) and the Koran (12 times and referred to by Mohammad as "a blessed tree"). It's a symbol of peace and steadfastness (some trees are known to be over 2,000 years old; one 1,600 year old Croatian tree still produces fruit) as well as strength and sustenance. Its colors are otherworldy and evergreen and its stubbornness against inhospitable heat and dryness have all made it venerated in poetry and metaphor.

    There's an old saying, you plant a grapevine for yourself but you plant an olive tree for your grandchildren.

    Below, two plantings by northern California designer Andrea Cochran:

    The Greeks believe it was Athena, goddess of wisdom and war who gave mankind the divine fruit. The Romans also coveted the precious crop, and later the Venetians shipped it around the Mediterranean from Palestine to Morocco and Spain.

    It was olive oil that supplied the fuel that lighted lamps throughout the Middle East during Biblical times and the Nativity. It shouldn't be surprising that olives and their oil have a spiritual significance throughout the Middle East, the oil itself is mentioned in the bible 140 times, the Qur’an and Torah also recording it as symbol of life and fertility.

    Two wonderfully symetrical trees stand like sentries on pedestals. Their exquisite backdrop will remain steadfast long after the pool has turned to dust.

    Two more Andrea Cochran treatments, below:

    Wizened olive nobility decorates this uncovered dining room, and below, the grand dame and her supporting cast:

    Olives do well in pots, too. As Mediterranean creatures they prefer warmer climes but for those that live in other zones you'll need to be moved inside during the winter months. They'll need to be acclimated gradually to full sun when returned to the outdoors. In the ground olives will grow 1 - 2 feet a year. Even in a pot they'll need to replanted into larger vessels every couple of years to prevent root overcrowding.

    The mini European Olive:


    Some poppies providing an understory to the majestic crowns of the olive.

    Even when seen from near, the olive shows
    A hue of far away. Perhaps for this
    The dove brought the olive back, a tree which grows
    unearthly pale, which ever dims and dries,
    And whose great thirst, exceeding all excess,
    Teaches the South it is not paradise.

    Richard Wilbur, 1948 (excerpt for Grasse: The Olive Trees where the title of this post also comes)

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