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.
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