symbiosis

a reflection on industrial design. and just about everything else.
My parents are engineers. Observing them while growing up, I assumed that they methodically approached everything in terms of numbers, computers and all the technological jumble of the speedy, interconnected world around us. Though I was not particularly clear on what exactly would occur in the office place from nine to five each day, I knew one thing for sure: I did not want to follow in their path. Instead, I wanted to pursue something that I perceived as the antithesis to them. I wanted to be an artist.

This semester, I am enrolled in a studio that is a collaborative project between RISD industrial design students and Brown engineering students. The main objective? To research, design and fabricate a prototype of an alternative, urban, commuter, biodiesel vehicle that can address the practical, economic, social and environmental needs of cities ranging from Providence, RI to Kisumu, Kenya. Or, really, to put it succinctly, it’s a challenging lesson in collaborating with others who often think, see and speak very differently from ourselves and about using our separate strengths in what we do to solve a set of problems to successfully reach a unified goal. In a farcical presentation about the differences between the designer and the engineer, the speaker, an engineer, pointed out that designers are often compelled to think beyond the box. “How can I defy convention?” they will ponder. Conversely, the engineer will ask, “How big is the box?” or “What’s it made of? Metal?” Another speaker, this time a designer, spoke of the time the design of his beautifully formed product later morphed at the hands of an engineer further down the production line. The product hit the shelves as an unattractive, unsatisfying blob. Clearly, there was little sensitive attention to effective communication. Here is a hypothetical conversation between the design student and the engineering student when discussing a potential concept concerning this class:

I say, “How about this?”
He says, “No, that’s not possible. Physics won’t allow it. It’ll be really unstable. What about this?”
Attempting to be tactful but honest, I say, “It’s… a block with wheels. Can it have a little more…style?”

Of course, these are stereotypical illustrations depicted for comic effect, but in my experience these past few weeks, I can say that yes, we are quite different. And despite the frustrations of not always seeing “eye to eye,” I’m glad we are. Working with the engineers has brought a different perspective on my approach to design. They present a great amount of knowledge about the technology that is available or the advances that are up and coming. They have an understanding of the way the world works in a scientific and physical sense. They can comprehend systems and mechanics and apply them to solving the problems we face. In a sense they, too, are designers. They create, innovate and instigate change, albeit in an ostensibly different way. And strangely enough, industrial designers can be part engineer as well. Outwardly, it may seem like we are only concerned with making things look good. But a good looking thing that does nothing well is simply no good at all. One is mindful of the mechanisms needed, the physical feasibility, the materials of choice, the manufacturing process and all the tools involved in production. In addition, the designer must consider the social, ecological, and technological impact of a design, its targeted user and interface, its marketability, and of course, the beauty it can bring to a place that is scarred by the problems that once remained unsolvable.

I suppose that up to this point, one would conclude that I’m saying industrial design pairs itself nicely with engineering. But it is not limited to only this relationship. I think that industrial design consists of many other areas that may not seem directly applicable at first glance.

In our first timeline, we considered the past and what has passed. Although this could refer to physical death, I chose to look at the topic in light of past discoveries, innovations and technological advancements. I think that as an industrial designer, it is important to consider history, whether it be antiquated or it be yesterday, and use those collective past experiences as a spring board in which to move forward. History shows us struggle and triumph and the ways in which design acts as a culprit or a hero. It gives us the encouragement that says, yes, the impossible can be done. Yesterday provides us with the inspiration to create for today. It humbles us with design that has lasted millennia and spurs us to reach that kind of significant simplicity. Overlapping with history, there’s science, politics, anthropology, you name it. Somehow all these things touch industrial design, and industrial design responds simultaneously in pronounced or subtle ways.

But I cannot dismiss its place in the art world. Industrial design is not limited to objects of mass production and the consumer culture in which it resides. Industrial design is art. It can be a source of beauty, a means of expression, and a museum worthy piece meant to be appreciated because it simply is.

In our second timeline, we were asked to examine light. Instead of looking at the history and technology of lighting in a utilitarian sense, I chose to see how artists and designers employed light as expression. I wanted this exploration to serve as a reminder that design, within industrial design, is more than a product that serves some useful purpose for some consumer. Again, industrial design is art. It, too, can embody emotions, articulate opinion, and convey thoughts and ideas that are often reserved for the category of fine arts.

My discussion here serves as rumination on the symbiotic relationships industrial design has with other disciplines that we have so neatly categorized and shelved into separate compartments. But the point is, industrial design cannot be segregated into its own corner, nor can industrial designers pay no heed to the things that are seemingly beyond the design world. We are all interconnected somehow, and it’s the recognition of these relationships that we can design for a better world. So, no longer can I see myself as the artist who has absolutely nothing to do with the engineer. Or with the historian, the painter, the scientist…In fact we are all collaborators in one grand project that is ever changing and ever moving.

form follows function

seating in the early 20th century
riding in an elevator the other day, i realized that solely by observation inside the compartment, one probably wouldn't be able to figure out how it works in a mechanical and electrical sense. everything is hidden behind panels, shoved away out of sight, and by the simple push of a button, one can travel several floors in a matter of seconds.

over the summer, i worked at a small furniture design company that believed in producing "honest" design. everything was as minimal as possible, all joints were revealed, nothing was hidden out of sight. every part existed for a certain purpose. without a component, the piece would be incomplete. and even though each piece was so seemingly simple, it maintained a balance of elegance and practicality.

where, then, can we strike a balance between baring all and avoiding the unsightly? my experience in the furniture shop taught me to embrace things simply as they are. there is no need to hide. but in the case of the elevator, being able to see a tangled mass of wires and hydraulic cylinders may not be palatable for all. so now the challenge is, how can we design something, mechanisms included, that can be comfortable when exposed? how minimal can i design something and yet still have it function well if not better? those are challenges i'm willing to take on.

for my timeline, i examined 5 different chairs from the early to mid 20th century. i wanted to see how different designers used function to dictate form. not only did the functional purpose of the chair drive form, but the manufacturing processes and developing technologies existing at the time also contributed to the final design of the object. "form follows function" seems to have become rather trite and constricting, but i think that it is still a valid starting point in design. perhaps for my own practice, i will follow instead a more "honest" approach-- the kind that reveals all the innards of the elevator but still remains beautiful yet uncomplicated.

building a better mousetrap...?

light as expression

what interests me about industrial design? i would say: solving the problems that we face and accomplishing it in a way that melds art with science and design with technology while still maintaining a social and ecological conscience. or to put it succinctly, i like helping to create things that will (hopefully) make our lives and the world around us better.

but even with all that pragmatism, we have to remember that designers are still artists after all. not only does a designer's work seek to have practical applications, it sometimes makes a statement about how they see themselves, the world or whatever subject matter they choose to express. thus, for my timeline, i chose to look at ways in which artists have utilized and manipulated light as a means of expression. though the pieces i chose to highlight may seem to serve no "practical purpose" and may seem more reminiscent of the fine arts, i feel like they are a good reminder of a way in which we can approach design. beneath the pragmatism and consumerism that drives design, there can also exist an artistic statement that expresses an artist's ideas at a more conceptual level.

the passed to the past

discovery and invention: an exploration of the unknown

in our first class, we talked dealing with the past/passed--in particular, those who are deceased and how artists and designers address the concept of death. a discussion of the past led me to my own interpretation, and i wanted to build off the play on words of past and passed. instead of further investigating the physical concept of death, i decided to examine the past in terms of scientific and technological discoveries and how those relate to what has passed in the past.

i began to think about knowledge and the human capacity to accumulate knowledge. what has become known cannot become forgotten, because what has been revealed cannot be hidden again. in my timeline, i looked at several points in history where something that was once unknown, became known, or what was once believed to be true proved to be the contrary. suddenly the unknown quality of something has passed and become a part of the past.

from the mapping of the new world to the mapping of the human genome, these discoveries are now a part of the past. it is not to say that these are now dead, but rather, they open many doors to future discoveries that will complete the cycle of moving from the unknown to the known, the passed to the past.