Published by Tom on September 20, 2007
under The Softness of Things
The second week of The Softness of Things concentrated on modularity. Modules and I go way back because of my architectural experience; (I just finished a design/build project of a modular steel building system for Solar Decathlon 2007) so it was odd when I came up blank on this assignment for a long while. For some reason I could not get inspired, or at least, excited about any modular problems/solutions. Maybe its because I have been so close to the concept for the past ten months and nothing seemed ‘new;’ but in any regard, this project was frustrating. Because of all of this (I think) I managed to rest firmly on my laurels of materiality and fabrication. Its not that I didn’t enjoy creating these modules, it was very challenging and they look pretty, but something is missing. I imagine it has to do with their transient nature… they only really exist for the images I make of them and do not really relate to the world in an important way. Its not like I want to make socially impactful objects, but maybe useful ones? I am not really sure… but something is missing.
These little wood/metal guys were a real challenge to make though. That was fun… well mostly frustrating, but fun too. By the way, it is very difficult to drill a hole where you want it. In metal it is easy… but in wood, when you don’t have a drill press HARD! I wish I had time to make more of them, then could join forces to make a much-needed extra light in my apartment. I guess they will just have to survive as tiny shelf icons, especially the flux-capacitor looking one. |
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Published by Tom on September 13, 2007
under The Softness of Things
My first assignment for The Softness of ‘Things’ is to create ’something very beautiful’. Thats it, the only requirement, and that excites me. This class seems like it will be about changing perspective, mixing, changing perspective… dare I say deconstructing; so I am in some ways tempted to spend a lot of time thinking… trying to make an object that can be talked about in an interesting way, but that has never worked that well for me. I always feel like I am being pretentious when I tell someone what an object means… to them. SO, I decided to approach making a very beautiful object in the way that comes most naturally to me.
Usually, the best way for me to get inspired is to walk into various junk stores. You know, the ones that are crammed full of junk, stuff, cheap stuff; so I went down to Chinatown and found treasure in the form of $.50 clay tea cups. Images immediately started popping out of my brain: color, dribbles, cracking, rough, linear, jumbles. I was off! Excited as hell and on my way to trying to produce the image in my head.
After I finished pouring yellow acrylic and gingerly breaking the cups, I stepped out again into the city in search of a context/landscape to photograph my little guys. I tried a few locations and eventually landed on a little patch of reflected sunlight that happened to be next to a yellow water access pipe. And it wasn’t just any yellow, it was almost the exact yellow I dripped in the cups… how lucky is that! So that was the spot.
Its funny how serendipitous/haphazard the whole process was. I even feel a little guilty about it. I made the choices I guess, but they weren’t rational or planned. The designer in me is nervous because there were no constrains here to fall back on. I don’t know if this project is ‘correct’, I am only relying on my gut and intuition. Don’t get me wrong, I am confident in the piece, I think it is beautiful and will probably resonate with people… but there is a good deal of insecurity stuffed in there as well.
My uneasiness makes me question my process. Which is best? Methodical, rational problem solving/planning; or intuitive seeking. How would it work if I was approaching a strict practical object? I wonder if the planning, programming, and all the ‘design processing’ I learning in my architectural education is overrated and stiff? |
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