Our first Resource Furniture video, displaying some of the coolest space-saving furniture currently available, is still our highest-rated vid of all time. And it's not surprising why: In addition to the showroom demos, we've got company President Ron Barth discussing the RF philosophy and why space-saving matters in people's lives.
One of the company's trademarks is that you can't tell, just by looking at it, that the furniture transforms; the pieces are all brilliantly designed and engineered to hide their multifunctionality, and completely absent any clunky compromises. And under Barth's curation they've become the go-to providers for folks who want good-looking, functional furniture but live in less space than they'd like to have. Most recently, in partnership with the Citizens Housing Planning Council (a nonprofit dedicated to housing and urban planning), Resource Furniture has kitted out a killer transforming micro-apartment on display at the Museum of the City of New York. The 325-square-foot space, called "Launchpad," is part of the Museum's "Making Room: New Models for Housing New Yorkers" exhibit.
It's not going to save any lives. It's not going to change yours. And your less observant guests won't even notice it unless you make them crawl around on the floor. But darn if it ain't cool-looking. The da caster, manufactured by Japan's Hammer Caster Co. in a couple of different sizes, is simply a hubless wheel. No axle, and not even any bearings.
The concept behind da caster is to smoothly harmonize with the design of furniture or fittings while maintaining a distinct presence as a caster. Rather than a ball-bearing configuration with an axle and bearing, the basic structure of a conventional caster, the da caster is characterized by a sliding configuration that does not use an axle or bearing. The da caster structure comprises an aluminum shell, a roller and an internal ring made of a special resin. This composition results in a ring-shaped wheel with a central hole a hubless caster that possesses sufficient strength and solidity yet seems to float.
Frustrated with the lack of decent keyboard stands on the market, Mikael Jorgensen began sketching ideas for a stylish lightweight touring stand some ten years ago—as lead pianist and keyboardist for the band Wilco, he'd spent the better much of that time on the road—but with no background in design or fabrication, he didn't really know how to proceed. He had given up hope until years later, when friend and producer Allen Farmelo, who showed him a mixing console that collapses for traveling, designed and built by François Chambard of UM Project. After an introduction from Farmelo, Jorgensen met with Chambard at his Greenpoint studio and immediately connected with his design sensibility and craftsmanship.
The stand breaks down to fit perfectly into a standard keyboard case for touring and can easily be configured to function as a desk for laptops; executed in Chambard's signature style with a matching bench, the UMJ-1 looks like nothing else on the market. I stopped by UM Project's studio to get a hands-on demo before the distinctive stand's debut at Wilco's Solid Sound Festival at the Massachusetts Museum of Contemporary Art. Chambard enthusiastically assembled the unit before my eyes, explaining the thought process behind it, as the storage room next door was being set up for the photo shoot.
MTH's Bloom Collection takes cedar and birch salvaged from Vancouver Island and surrounds it with resin, forming precisely flat, functional surfaces that nevertheless highlight the organic beauty of the encased wood.
"Our calling," writes the company, "is to re-connect people with the fundamental feeling of strength and serenity the trees give us every day." That being said, when they posted a video explaining where they get their inspiration from, we were expecting the usual—a sensitive-looking bearded guy talking about the majesty of craft while the camera slowly rack-focuses on a handtool. Instead we were treated to our favorite kind of video, GoPro footage shot from mountain bikes and snowboards:
San Francisco-based Coalesse has been conducting ongoing research on 'Nomadic Work' for several years now, and the Massaud Work Lounge is the latest furniture solution for today's mobile workforce. "The Work Lounge with Canopy is a self-contained sanctuary. It creates a quiet space within a public area and allows users to be in control of their work environment. It provides privacy and eliminates visual distraction by signaling to others if the users want to focus and not be disturbed or if they can be approached by the positioning of the canopy (closed, semi-closed or open)."
Designed by French architect and designer Jean-Marie Massaud, the Work Lounge debuted at NeoCon earlier this month, where we had the chance to speak to him about the project.
The Campana Brothers' exhibition at New York City's Friedman Benda gallery marks not only the duo's first solo show in the U.S. but also the 30th anniversary of the studio. Simply titled Concepts, the exhibition delivers exactly that with a collection of superbly well-executed one-off pieces made from exotic materials and their signature labor-intensive handcraft techniques. At first glance, it's a natural materials-fest: showstoppers include the "Pirarucu Cabinet," a free standing dresser upholstered in pirarucu fish scales; the Boca (Portuguese for "mouth") collection covered in patches of cowhide; and an incredible "Alligator Sofa," 'upholstered' with tiny stuffed leather alligator toys by Orientavida, an NGO that teaches underprivileged women embroidery skills.
The heavy emphasis on material experimentation and any notions of sustainability are reinforced with the galleries walls and floor covered entirely in a coconut fiber matting, imparting a womb-like warmth and suggesting a humble setting for what can only be described as design collectibles. Freed from the constraints of designing for production, the brothers have taken the opportunity to explore ideas, processes and forms without concern for outcome, in fact it feels very much like the objects themselves (be it a table or chair) are just a means of demonstrating proof-of-concept for new techniques.
One of the most iconic pieces in show—a tough call, given how much everything begs for attention—is the "Racket Chair (Tennis)," featuring a hand-stitched motif made from remnant backings of Thonet chairs. Another striking piece, made from leftovers, is the "Detonado Chair," which is crafted out of the scraps of caning that are discarded after a chair is repaired (At the press preview, Humberto joked that it took a lot of persuasion to convince the artisan to seriously consider producing a chair for them with these worthless scraps).
The exhibition runs till July 3rd and all the highlights can be seen in our latest gallery here.
We've been fans of Jamie Wolfond's work since he turned up on our radar at RISD Furniture Design's "Transformations" exhibition in Milan last year. The Toronto native and recent grad has dabbled in a number of delightfully weird experiments in furniture design since then, from the previously-seen stools and chairs to the lighting and timepieces pictured below.
With his BFA under his belt, the young designer has secured an internship at Bertjan Pot's Rotterdam studio for the summer; he's not yet sure where he'll end up afterward, but his future is looking bright. Wise beyond his years, Wolfond recently took the time to share his thoughts on the convoluted world of designing for manufacture.
I started my degree project intending to work with trades, machines and producers from outside the furniture industry to design and construct prototypes for accessible, producible furniture.
The idea for the project came out of my newfound interest in designing for production. As a young and inexperienced design student, I was immediately attracted to the increasingly popular 'licensing' model. Licensing allows a freelance designer to come up with a project, create a prototype, pitch it to a manufacturer, and hopefully sell the rights to its design, receiving a small royalty for every piece sold. This way of working is particularly attractive to students since it promises the possibility of having one's work produced on a large scale without the financial risk, distribution channels or industry experience that it would take to start a business from scratch.
Further investigation of the licensing model as a way for young designers to see their work produced revealed several problems with the idea of designing products on speculation alone.
The Emergency Bench is a personal favorite—I love the way it looks like an animal as it inflates
A European company called 3D Furniture sells design classics of yore: Work from the Eameses, Le Corbusier, Mies van der Rohe and everything you'd see in a History of ID class. They also sell modern-day stuff designed by Starck, Rashid, Arad, et. al. But as you've probably gathered from the company's name, none of the stuff is real; it's all 3D models meant for architects to drop into renderings.
As you might remember from earlier posts like this one or this one, an intense amount of woodworking used to go into furniture designed to hold sewing machines. But these beautiful cabinet-desks are now largely unneeded, and it is not uncommon for sewing machine collectors to literally break these things up and use them as firewood.
A similar object with a similar problem is the stand-up piano. Once the proud, previously-expensive possession of many a pre-radio music-loving family, these are now literally being given away on Craigslist. And after reading an article about how one Oregon furnituremaker was attempting to repurpose them, Instructables user phish814 got an idea of his own. "This project," he explains, "solves the dilemma of not having adequate workspace in an apartment or other venue in which an unsightly workbench would look out of place."
Exhibitors at WantedDesign this year represented nationalities near and far, from just across the East River to across the pond and further afield. Now in its third year, Odile Hainaut and Claire Pijoulat's hugely successful satellite to the nearby ICFF has all but outgrown the Terminal Stores building at the northwest corner of Chelsea. If the jam-packed atrium proved to be a bit overwhelming at times, the peripheral galleries offered the luxury of space at the expense of foot traffic—making for an altogether more manageable viewing experience, as in the case of the Carrot Concept, presented by Bernhardt Design.
Led by a collective of savvy Salvadoran designers—Harry and Claudia Washington, Guillermo Altamirano, Josefina Alvarez, Jose Roberto Paredes and Roberto Dumont—the Carrot Concept is a platform to bring their country's creative efforts to the rest of the world, and expand both the domestic and global audience for design from El Salvador.
A grassroots movement is afoot to bring the country's burgeoning creative scene to the forefront. In 2012, a band of progressive and socially conscious architects, designers and entrepreneurs launched The Carrot Concept with the belief that celebrating and promoting creative industries in El Salvador will help fuel tehir economic and cultural growth.
StokkeAustad - "The Woods"; Image courtesy of Maria Larsson / Home in the Woods
It's always nice to be pleasantly surprised by a serendipitous visit to a strong exhibition, especially during a week when there happen to be dozens of events to visit. (With the launch of NYCxDesign, New York's annual design week was as supersaturated as ever, what with the ICFF expanding into Javits North and Wanted Design nearly overflowing with exhibitors.) As with Field and Various Projects' Here & There, an unassuming exhibition was well worth the visit, and even though most of last weekend exhibitions have been broken down, packed and shipped by now, Home in the Woods will remain on view at 29 Mercer St in Soho (albeit by appointment only).
However, unlike Jonah Takagi's effort, Maria Larsson's exhibition is brimming with New Nordic and Swedish Modern quality, including vintage pieces by Bruno Mathsson and Sven Markelius along with works of art and design. As the sole organizer of the exhibition, Larsson readily admits that her role went far beyond simply curating the exhibition: an architect by training, she oversaw the buildout of the gallery space, as well as the PR and marketing.
Design agency smallpond looked to go big time for the inaugural NYCxDesign festival, entering the fray with the support of London's Designjunction. The new INTRO NY show was modest in the best way possible, a showcase of smaller, mostly non-NYC design brands in a well-lit, street-level space in the heart of Little Italy (there was audible din from a parade two blocks over when I visited on Saturday morning).
If on-site retail—a curated neo-utility pop-up shop—and refreshments seem to be par for the course at design shows these days, the backyard pop-up cafe was a nice touch (though I imagine it was rained out on Sunday).
In addition to furnishing the patio, San Francisco's Council made a strong showing with products new and old. They've brought a handful of young designers into the fold since the brand debuted at ICFF in 2007, including Chad Wright, who was happy to discuss the "Twig" chair that he designed for the brand.
Now in its fourth year, Noho Design District has taken on a few different permutations over the years, encompassing various pop-up exhibitions from a tiny Japanese butcher shop to a four-story lumber company headquarters (which happen to be on the same block, no less), reflecting both the changes within the neighborhood and the landscape of American design as a whole. Once again, our friends Jill Singer and Monica Khemsurov of Sight Unseen have masterminded a neighborhood-wide celebration of young and emerging designers. In addition to partnering with several co-conspirators such as Future Perfect and American Design Club, they've also curated the flagship Noho Next group exhibition, featuring 13 handpicked studios that comprise a showcase of design talent.
The exhibition took place over the weekend at Subculture, the event space in the basement of the 45 Bleecker Street Theater, which hosted Tom Dixon's London Underground exhibition last year. (I don't know if I'm dating myself with the reference, but I remember going to the Crosby Connection sandwich shop when they occupied the cafe a few years back...). Although it happens to be closing as I write this, hopefully our documentation can serve as future reference.
Although this year marks their first ICFF, PELLE Designs actually dates back to 2008 or so, when co-founder Jean Pelle developed the first Bubble Chandelier. She met her future business partner (and husband) Oliver about ten years ago at the Yale School of Architecture, and each went on to work for major firms before setting out on their own.
The "Quadrat" series of tables takes its name from the German word for "square"; Oliver left his native Germany to study architecture in the States
Thus, their debut collection consists of iterations on the designs: the Bubble Chandelier is now UL listed, and they've just introduced a long version (not pictured) for a total of nine different shapes and sizes (they've also taken an interesting step in making all of the items available to order through an online store).
Jean noted that they make and hand-carve the Soap Stones in their Red Hook studio
Stockholm's Konstfack is among the university design departments that occupy the removed North Building of the Javits Center this ICFF, a more manageable—albeit somewhat sparsely populated—exhibition hall in contrast to the main floor of ICFF. Despite—or perhaps because of—the largely theoretical curriculum of graduate programs in Industrial Design, the 11 first-year Master's candidates at Konstfack undertook a self-initiated project to actually make objects, which they first exhibited during Stockholm Design Week back in February. According to the Negative Space website:
What is a negative space? Can it be framed by something other than matter? Can a negative space be made tangible?
Ten explorations on the possible meanings of negative space showcasing new and intriguing perspectives. By shifting focus from matter to the space that it occupies, the designers have found new ways of working by investigating the relationship between objects and the surrounding space. Presented here are a series of individual interpretations of negative space, culminating in a fascinating interplay between form, memory, movement, light and time.
Insofar as the theme itself is intangible, the students took a broad range of approaches; even in the case of light, which might be considered an easy metaphor for space, the inspiration and execution varied significantly. Nevertheless, the overall aesthetic of the work is quite minimal, in keeping with both the theme and Scandinavian design language in general.
Unfortunately, the logistics of overseas travel and the tradeshow setting made for a somewhat attenuated exhibition—i.e. the convention center simply isn't the ideal context for exhibiting the highly conceptual work. (I find that the Javits Center, for all its cavernous, harshly-lit real estate, is something of a 'negative space,' if you'll excuse the pun.) In any case, the students were excited to be in New York—a first for many of them—and they were eager to share their work.
Daphne Zuilhof's "Spin" stool inspired friendly jealousy amongst her peers for it's packability. It takes it name not from the English verb but for the Dutch word for 'spider,' where its collapsible legs delimit a volume that is a usable space.
As data continues to indicate that spending all day on your ass isn't good for your health, there are exciting opportunities for workstation and seating designers. Standing desks, treadmill desks and funky chairs may fade in and out of popularity, but we like seeing the weird permutations and risks that designers are willing to take in their quest to find the "correct" solution.
One such new seating product comes from Turnstone (the Steelcase brand dedicated to furniture solutions for small companies and startups) with their Buoy, designed by Michigan-based ID'er Ricky Biddle. "Research shows that even people who typically work out after work don't receive the same benefit if they are sitting all day," writes Turnstone. "Overall, we recognize that movement is good so any way we can bring movement to the office is something we look for."
To that end, the Buoy is designed to be off-balance, like its namesake bobbing device, though not as extremely as a Pilates ball; the idea is that the microadjustments you're continually making with your body are not annoying enough to be a hassle, but adequate to burn some calories. Also unlike a Pilates ball, the Buoy is height-adjustable.
We wanted to find a simple seating solution that would allow for movement and work in multiple environments and applications. Turnstone had explored some initial ideas around active seating with a rocking stool concept called Humma shared at Neocon a few years ago, but for Buoy we wanted to allow a greater freedom of movement and a create a highly functioning product that could complement multiple settings and work with different height tables and related items around the home and office from both a functional and aesthetic point of view.
This photo began making the blog rounds some time last year, and continues to resurface on Pinterest, usually with the word "clever" in the description. But is it? Let's think about this for a second.
First off there's the table. Treehugger wrote "I don't know how they get such a big table into the counter, perhaps there is a fold in it." By zooming in on the photo, we can tick that box:
As you can see inside the circle, the faintest of reveals is visible, indicating the table's in two halves. My guess is the front half folds up and back onto the rear half for stowage. The two red arrows indicate where conventional leaf hinges (as seen below) might be, conveniently concealed in the photo by the dish and the newspaper.
However, as this piece of furniture is ascribed to German manufacturer Alno (though I could not find it anywhere on their site, probably due to the language barrier), I wouldn't be surprised if they used hidden hinges like this:
Those bad boys are inserted into simple holes drilled into the edges of each board, and then you join them like you're doweling them together. Hinges like that don't come cheap, maybe a hundred bucks U.S.
"The first time somebody acknowledged your skill," writes craftsperson Jeff Baenen, "and asked you to personally make them something (and they would pay you!)... was a moment I will always remember." Years ago the Illinois-based Baenen, a mechanical designer by training, was having drinks with a co-worker who asked if Jeff could build him a special box: One that would hold his wife's family Bible.
A box to hold a book, sounds simple, no? But religious tomes that double as family heirlooms require a certain amount of reverence, and there was also a nuts-and-bolts design problem to solve:
The size of the family bible had a huge impact on how the box would be designed. I think it was somewhere around 14”×10”×4”. Being of such a large size I didn't want to have a person reach into the box to pull out the bible (it was pretty heavy). Nor did I want them picking the box up and dumping the bible out.
Baenen's solution was to design and build an interior mechanism that would enable the user to raise the book up out of the box, like something from an Indiana Jones movie. "I designed a lifting mechanism that would allow the bible to 'rise' out of the box by rotating two cam arms," Baenen explains. "In the down state the mechanism is only .75” thick. When actuated it will raise the bible 3.5” out of the box... easy to just grab with your hands."
We're talking about food now more than ever—so much so that food-centered innovation isn't just taking place in the kitchen anymore. Interest in our edibles has officially made the leap from plate to apartment. Sure, you've seen a sleeping bag in the style of a pizza slice and a scarf painted like strips of bacon, but recently we've spotted furniture that takes subtler cues from the kitchen. The end result is infinitely more palatable.
How do you stand out among a group of 120-odd young international designers all trying to capture the attention of customers and buyers? During Milan's recent SaloneSatellite, Francesco Barbi and Guido Bottazzo of Italy's Bicube Design created a line of furniture inspired by their country's national cuisine: pasta.
Before chocolate transforms into a topping or a candy bar, it's poured. The action has been reproduced over and over in commercials and advertisements to whet our palates. Designers Vinta Toshitaka Nakamura and Kohei Okamoto captured that same liquid quality—and our attention—in their Chocolite lamp.
Vitsœ, exclusive licensee of Dieter Rams' furniture designs, is very pleased to announce that they are re-releasing the "620 Chair Programme." As of yesterday, the ultraminimal armchair is available on the Vitsœ website and will be in showrooms worldwide shortly.
Vitsœ's new production of 620 shows characteristic rigour and attention to detail. The chair has been completely re-engineered, right down to the last purpose-designed stainless-steel bolt. In turn, the very best traditional upholstery skills have been revived to ensure a chair that will last for generations, a point reinforced by the choice of a sumptuous full-grain aniline-dyed leather that will only improve with age. All of this has been achieved while prices have been reduced.
Although Rams is best known for designing household wares for a certain German company, he also dabbled in larger objects such as furniture; as with the better-known Vitsœ 606 shelving unit, the 620 is modular (similarly, the first two numbers refer to the year in which the product was designed, per the company's naming convention). As the story goes, a knockoff turned up by 1968; company co-founder "Niels Vitsœ, fought a lengthy court case that culminated in the chair being granted rare copyright protection in 1973."
I was tempted to photobomb this image with Blown Away Guy...
Last week, a vacant industrial loft was magically transformed into an elegant gallery space for the evening, as the Rhode Island School of Design's Department of Furniture Design celebrated its graduating Masters Candidates in a show titled, 'The New Clarity.'
The title of the exhibition drew its name from "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rainer Maria Rilke:
...Everything is gestation and then birthing. To let each impression and each embryo of a feeling come to completion, entirely in itself, in the dark, in the unsayable, the unconscious, beyond the reach of one's own understanding, and with deep humility and patience to wait for the hour when a new clarity is born: this alone is what it means to live as an artist: in understanding as in creating."
Each designer took a fresh approach to that understanding, re-envisioning what furniture could be and giving a glimpse of what that development looked like on the path to their final work.
Bent-wood room divider by Elish Warlop
Pieces ranged from the bent-wood room divider above to a chair to facilitate sex with multiple partners simultaneously--running the gamut of what comes to mind (and doesn't) when one thinks of 'furniture design.' The diverse array of work explored not only a new understanding, but varying motifs of tradition, from daily traditions of the everyday to ornate, woven tapestries re-imagined in plastic.
One of the most memorable pieces from the evening was the latter, the work of Colantonio, which looked at commodities of the past, seeped in ancient tradition, and adapted them utilizing contemporary tools and technologies.
Plastic Persian carpet by F Taylor Colantonio
"Most of my work deals with historical 'types' of objects, at least as a point of departure," said Colantonio. "I'm interested in taking a thing like a Persian carpet, and all the baggage that comes with it, and abstracting it beyond the qualities we would normally associate with a Persian carpet. I wanted to create a kind of a ghost of the source object, something that is both familiar and entirely strange. In many of the pieces, this is done with a shift in material, often as a result of exploiting a manufacturing method in a new way."
F Taylor Colantonio
Patterns on patterns on patterns by F Taylor Colantonio
The Beer Bag, by Marco Gallegos
The aptly titled "Beer Bag" was part of Gallegos' "Rethinking the Familiar" Collection, which looked to further the relationship and value people place on everyday objects. With the capacity to carry a six-pack of beer, the bag fits snugly onto one's bike. Beer holders included.
The Lilu Table, by Marco Gallegos
The Lilu Table is also the work of Gallegos, who sought to create a self-supporting structure, where each part provides vital support to the rest--working together as a system. The power-coated steel legs fit into the top, locking them all together in a secure fit.
The breadth of the work left little to be desired in terms of heterogeneity, leaving the future work of each designer just as varied and unpredictable as the collection produced. We'll be eager to see what divergent paths they take after graduation this June!
The Graduate Furniture class, photo by Anelise Schroeder
More photos from the opening night after the jump.
Top spot went to Katie Lee's spot-on blend of ingenuity and style
Last fall Core77 got the chance to participate in the jurying of a chair design competition sponsored by Wilsonart and held at the University of Oregon's Product Design Department. It was a semester long assignment for the students and challenged them to use Wilsonart's laminates to produce a NW cafe inspired chair. This coming week the results of that competition are going on display in NYC at the ICFF and we encourage you to stop by and see the winners yourself; the high level of thinking and polish applied by the class is well represented by the champion chairs. Here is a teaser of the work, continued from above...
Adam Horbinski's sculptural (and versatile) two-piece
Jordan Millar's contemporary synthesis of line and plane
Kvadrat Soft Cell panels line the entrance of the Moroso showroom
Celebrating Patricia Urquiola's first textile collection for Kvadrat, a feast of the senses was organized at Moroso's Milan showroom during Salone. Entering through a hallway lit with the dynamic glow of Kvadrat's Soft Cell panels, guests were welcome into the main showroom where rotating columns of embroidered fabrics were hung around the circumference of the space.
The Revolving Room honored a spirit of collaboration—between Urquiola, Moroso, Kvadrat and Philips—as a showcase of the myriad possibilities for textile application. The Urquiola-designed Kvadrat collection was the filter on the acoustic lighting panels, an embroidered skin on the rotating architectural columns, the fabric on Moroso furniture and a material transformed into bowls and inspiring food design by I'm a KOMBO for the communal table.
Kvadrat Soft Cells are large architectural acoustic panels with integrated multi-colored LED lights. These "Luminous Textiles" provide an ambient glow of light filtered through the textures of Kvatdrat fabrics. The modular panels are based on a patented aluminum frame with a concealed tensioning mechanism which keeps the surface of the fabric taut, unaffected by humidity or temperature.
The magic of the panels lies in Philips' LED technology which allows architects to control content, color and movement projected from the panels. The Kvadrat textiles provide tactility and sound absorption qualities even when the Soft Cells are static.
Core77 had an opportunity to speak with Urquiola on the collaboration with Kvadrat on the occasion of the collection debut. As the first designer to create a collection for the Soft Cells panels, we were interested in learn more about the process of designing across different mediums and working with light.
From left to right: Anders Byriel, Patricia Urquiola, Patrizia Moroso
Core77: This is your first time designing textiles for Kvadrat. What was your design process like and how was it different than designing furniture?
Patricia Urquiola: We worked in two ways. The first process started with the idea of "applying memory," to create a fabric that looks like its been worn with time. This fabric will not get older in a bad way because it is already "worn." The passage of time will be good for contrast.
The other idea was to work with digital patterns. We have been working with ceramics as part of my research in the studio for a long time. Part of these patterns were in my mind as we were searching for new tiling designs. I am working with Mutina, where I am the art director, and we're trying not to work in color—exploring bas relief and a treatment of the tiling.
One pattern is a kind of matrix—its kind of a jacquard. We're working with a classic technique in a cool wool, but in the end, you have this connection with a digital world. The contrast of the jacquard is sometimes quite strong and sometimes more muted—you can see and then not see the matrix.
And then there was the possibility to work velvet—opaque and quite elegant. We use a digital laser cut technique. They are patterns but not. They give an element to the fabric but they are still and quiet.
These are digital techniques but the process to create all three patterns was quite complicated. I'm happy because we explored three complex processes but they turned out amazing.
Designer Ivan Zhang originally hails from Shanghai but is currently working towards his Masters degree at Burg Giebichenstein University of Art and Design in Germany. Indeed, his work draws heavily on a certain school of Northern European design, which holds that form follows function. In keeping with the unassailable logic of minimalism, Zhang has developed his own formula, simplifying "A + B → C" to "A’ → C"—something to the effect of incorporating a "correction" (user-generated solution for specific use cases) into a product.
For example, not only does the Bookshelf’ incorporate a flatpack-friendly hinged top and bottom panel, the slightly arching shelves eliminate the need for bookends (or the ad hoc solution of propping of a book to serve as such.)
We usually tilt the last book on the shelf in order to prevent the books from falling. Likewise, a wide variety of bookends are on the market for the same purpose. This "conscious action" or "auxiliary bookend" is defined as "B" in A’ philosophy, that is: correction... This natural shape of Bookshelf’ makes conscious rectification unnecessary.
Elaborate justification aside, the work is quite interesting in itself—the tension in the shelves suggests a tautly composed structure, and Zhang notes that "with the strength produced by the arched board itself, users can easily assemble the bookshelf without punching or screws."
Way back in 1995, Core77 was just a baby, and designer Rolf Sachs blew the sawdust off of a new chair he'd designed. Two notes:
1. Had we had the blog up and running back then we'd have covered it, but it took two years before anyone even knew what a "blog" was.
2. As you can probably tell, these first three photos are indicative of 1995 image quality.
Sach's brilliant 3 Equal Parts chair, "an academic exercise in deconstructivism," consisted of three L-shaped pieces made from heavy, 28mm thick Doug Fir. All three pieces were identical, and the user could configure the chair in a couple of different ways.
Years later Sachs revisited the chair for an exhibition in 2008, adding a sexy little angle to the L and switching materials to Swiss stone pine. (Unsurprising, as the longtime Switzerland-loving Sachs had converted a Swiss Olympic bobsled facility into his holiday home and was presumably surrounded by the stuff.)