Hollis is a kinetic side table. The table surface moves freely within a 130 cm (51 Inch) diameter on two pivoting arms that join it to the stem. The height of the table surface is positioned to easily slide over a seated persons lap and stow conveniently underneath a desk or table. The kinetic tabletop follows the motions of a user as they interact with the space around them – turning around to show a colleague something on a lap top screen or shifting to one side to face a new direction. The steel base is covered with a mat of Nike Grind, a scratch resistant rubber-flooring made from recycled sneakers. This textured surface invites the user to move in on the table and place their feet on the base while they work on the table surface. The stem and pivoting mechanism are constructed with steel, Nylon gliders and hardware. The table surface is made with laminated aluminum over a lightweight wooden core, and the edge of the table is finished with a rubber bumper that protects it and the items around it as it moves. Envisioned as a flexible tool for contemporary needs, Hollis could be placed at a bedside, next to a desk, adjacent a kitchen table, or anywhere where an extra surface may be needed.
Factor is an ergonomic library shelf made of ebonized teak. Employing a natural arc, the shelf is designed around the sight and reach of a user and emphasizes the act of searching and reaching for books. Brims on the front and back ends of each shelf keep tilted books from falling out. Factor is intended for libraries, bookshops, homes, offices and anywhere in which a large collection of books might be stored. After being exhausted in other product sectors such as seating, computing and transportation, ergonomic design has inevitably lost integrity and meaning. Nevertheless, its original principles remain beautiful and allow us to build furniture around and for the human body. This approach has seldom been explored in shelving. Placed in facing rows Factor resembles a fuselage or tunnel as seen from the interior – it envelopes the body in books and provides an engaging experience for typically square libraries.
As technology surges ahead, our ability to adapt it to our lives and living spaces often lags behind. For us, enamored with our new gadget, what it is often takes precedent over where it goes. A good example of this incongruity is the proliferation of personal computers in contemporary kitchens.
In many homes, the kitchen has become the social hub, and since computers support every facet of our daily lives, the overlap is inevitable. So what can a kitchen computer do? For starters: Online cookbooks replace their printed ancestors; video conferencing with family and friends reinforces and enhances the social nature of the space; music software eliminates the need for audio players; and web browsers provide access to information and entertainment, making TVs superfluous. The kitchen and the computer are an ideal match, but their pairing remains as awkward as sushi and milk.
Attempts at integrating the computer into the kitchen have yet to produce sophisticated results. In 1969, Honeywell offered a kitchen computer with a binary interface for $10,000 from Neiman Marcus. It’s unclear if any were ever sold. More recently, specialized kitchen computers built onto refrigerator doors may allow you to keep track of your grocery list, but they have little regard for spatial planning. Their only reason for appearing on appliances is because appliance companies developed them. The niche market for a kitchen-specific computer may never justify the research and development that a desktop computer does, so the latter will remain a better choice. The immediate problem is that kitchens are poorly designed to accommodate our regular computers.
Last June I attended a plastics trade fair in Chicago. Walking through a stadium-sized hall filled with the wares of mould manufacturers, I became lost in a maze of production tools and as a result it took me two hours to find the plastics companies I had come there to see. In a second hall I found hundreds of booths selling a host of bizarre metal gadgets and tubes, which I learned are the components that make the moulds themselves. Many of today’s products are created with the help of hundreds of other inter-dependent manufacturing products. I left the fair with the dizzying realisation that the metal-gadget industry is built around the mould industry, which is built around the plastics industry, which is built around other industries like the automotive or furniture industry, which are built around real people’s needs.
Ciclo is a three-sided revolving shelf made of ebonized teak. In nineteenth century libraries revolving bookcases provided compact storage, and Ciclo reintroduces the archetype for today’s homes, offices and shops. A new structural approach, which merges three ample cases and aligns each with the center of the whole unit, optimizes access and rotation for the user. The core of the design is left open for additional storage space, transparency and the passage of light.
Abitare puts to trial new icons of furniture and product design. In a virtual court, a prosecutor and a defense attorney (played by two renowned design critics) analyze and discuss the merits and defects of the design piece and interrogate the designer and the producer, who are called to the witness stand, in order to give detailed insight to contemporary design leaving the final verdict to the audience.
In the case of the 360° office chair by Magis, please step forward, Jonathan Olivares, for the prosecution, Paola Antonelli, the defense attorney, and the two witnesses, designer Konstantin Grcic and producer Eugenio Perazza. The court is in session.
