Wednesday, December 7, 2011

computer, COMPUTER, Furniture

Computers, the Internet, and other manifestations of technology are all creations of humankind. A CAD 3D rendering of a computer chip still relies on the same brain that created stone hand axes, and today, the video card that allows programs like SolidWorks or Rhino to operate relies on a complex relationship between humans and technology that makes their existence possible. Thus, a single designer working on a single personal computer, creating a CAD file for manufacture on a single additive photolithography rapid prototyping machine, is standing on the shoulders of countless individuals.
            Looking at furniture works being created and refined during the now is ever important, even to the traditional cabinet-maker. The Now, as defined by Scott Constable, will prove useful in understanding the implications of hyper-contemporary technologically- driven furniture:
"'Now' does not and cannot actually exist, the flow of time and energy being in constant motion. Perhaps 'now' is more like an expanding membrane that defines what is perceived as 'the present’ an edge, the shape of everything in flux at any given time. Regardless, 'now' can only ever be understood as a singular perspective, a consciously framed viewpoint of consciously moving in simultaneity with the rest of known reality. The perspective of 'now' carries most meaning when it is a consciously shared state with others"
This exhibition must necessarily be such 'a consciously framed viewpoint' so it is not misunderstood. Viewers must understand that these pieces are being made today, and represent a certain technological frontier of manufacturing, but also must grasp that this catalog is merely a pixilated snapshot of a facet of a sphere that rolls down a hill we cannot even perceive as a hill. Looking at the current state of CAD/CAM1 furniture we can learn something about the past, about intentions of designers, and about states of creating.
                                                Frieder Nake, ‘Hommage a Paul Klee 13/9/65 Nr 2’, 1965
Each piece of contemporary furniture already exists as an artifact of the past. Looking to the history of two dimensional computer art we can further understand the context CAD/CAM contemporary pieces exist in, and further understand how the included pieces exist as artifacts of our 'now'. In the 1960s, software and hardware became accessible enough for non-programmers to create work. In Frieder Nake's Hommage a Paul Klee 1965, Nake "wrote random variables into the program", creating room for the computer to make a choice in the final composition of the piece. Another pioneer, A. Michael Noll, discussed in 1966 why this work was important, as well as why it was so frustrating to those who held great importance for the emotions of the artist. Noll is described as a pioneer of the "attempt to underpin the creative process with a logical procedure" (V&A). The adeptness with which computer's can handle algorithms allowed logical and unerring procedures to be put in place to determine the composition and mark-making in a two dimensional format. In this lies the technological roots of algorithmic or biomorphic justifications of form that exist in contemporary design.
            Steel changed the way furniture makers thought about form's relationship to structure. With no grain, a homogenous composition, a high strength-to-weight ratio, and the ability to weld or fasten with relative ease, steel allowed new structures and forms to manifest themselves plentifully. With the advent of rapid prototyping technology, including but not limited to selective laser sintering, stereo lithography, laser cutting, and CNC routing, as well as the software that makes the creation of digital, three-dimensional forms possible, new structures and forms have emerged yet again. Stereo lithography generates forms that are homogenous and stable. Considerations need not be given to historical material challenges such as joinery, fastening, welding, or gluing. Paul Discoe said to me, "it is more interesting to react to a set of rules". With SLA, these rules seem less interesting, this could be because it is a younger medium, but it is most likely because it really has less to offer in the way a set of rules for resistance against. Patrick Jouin is quoted on the i.Materialise blog, describing the merit of designing without rules determined by the material or manufacturer through additive manufacturing, stating:
“When you design an object… you will always have someone else who will come in the process and say, ‘Sorry Patrick, you can’t do it like this because our machine won’t do this.’ So I change it. I don’t want to, but I have to find a solution. Or the manufacturer will say, ‘I             can’t sell this, the market will not accept.’ But this time, there is no technical constraint, and no one in the middle of the process. It’s now a pure idea; not cooked, but raw. Which is why it looks so incredible.”
The intimacy between product and designer is clear in this process. The designer designs, and the machine builds precisely as the designer commands. Hal Foster states, "Autonomy, even semi-autonomy, may be an illusion, or better, a fiction: but periodically it is useful" (Foster 25), suggests that this process, could provide illusory autonomy and even prompts the thought that perhaps financial autonomy in design is not far away when these processes are made inexpensive enough. Companies like ShapeWays provide rapid prototyping services to the public relatively inexpensively. Much of the products created seem irrelevant and ill conceived. Where is the middle ground? The designer is not connected to the manufacturing of the product physically, but is intellectually involved in the creation of the instructions to be given to the machine if they are the designer of the file. How do you design to materiality in a medium like Stereo-lithographed epoxy? So far the constraints are rigidity, strength (although it may be machined), and the scale of the machine that will be fabricating the piece. If the designer wishes to use materials other then epoxy, selective laser sintering may be used, which can fabricate in polymers, polystyrene, steel, titanium, alloy mixtures, and composites.
            Although many of the pieces feature contemporary designers that are somewhat alienated from the physical making of their objects, many pieces exhibit a careful attention to the detail, form, and concept on the part of the designer. Some, if not most, of this design was carried out through the medium of the computer and CAD software. Bruce Mau sheds some light on why this might be limiting in An Incomplete Manifesto for Growth, "the bandwidth of the world is greater then your T.V. set, or the internet, or even a totally immersive, interactive, dynamically rendered, object oriented, real-time, computer graphic-simulated environment". It takes an extra effort on the part of the contemporary CAD/CAM designer to immerse themselves in the material of the piece in it's finished form, and hands-on action on the part of the designer is the exception rather then the rule. One exception is Dirk van der Kooij and his Endless collection, where he has appropriated a robot off of a Chinese assembly line and used it as a makeshift, low-res, 3d printer. The human scale of the robot, Kooij's involvement with the color, the use of recycled refrigerators as a medium, and the mark making of the robot are all essential in creating a final product that is conscious of its own material. The robot seems under Kooij's direction, and the acknowledgement of the machine's role and the beauty of it is apparent in the way the imperfections in the bead of the line are left untouched, and the construction becomes the ornament, further emphasized by the addition of pigments. This is in contrast to the Cinderella Table that requires many, many hours of hand labor to erase any evidence in its surface that a machine tool touched it.
            Computers easily execute complex algorithms that would be too tedious for calculation by humans and allow appropriation for the sheathing of uninspiring forms in complex, unnatural concepts or decorations. Bruce Mau elaborates on this, stating that "in this environment the only way to build real equity is to add value: the wrap intelligence and culture around the product. The apparent product, the object attached to the transaction, is not the actual product at all. The real product has become culture and intelligence" (Foster 23). The Nebula Coffee table by Chris Kabatsi for Arktura is an example of a simple form, essentially a rectangular box, with five laser cut sides that attempt to wrap the simple form in a ‘complex, unnatural’ decoration. The decoration is derived from algorithms that explore the formation and organization of the cosmos, and are an attempt to justify an uninspiring form, build enough equity around the total product, and create a relevant and desirable piece of furniture. Unfortunately, the coffee table seems conceived, the sheath too obvious, to work in a holistic way. Pixel, by Platform Wertel-Oberfell, works in a less overt way to sheath a simple form, a long, low-slung rectangular cabinet on four legs with an intellectual, pixilated comment on the use of tropical hardwoods in furniture construction.
            Precision rapid prototyping tools such as high-resolution additive printers and laser cutters allow impulsive design to be executed equally impulsively, with none of the ramifications that physical involvement with the material would involve. Evan Murphy’s Puppy Daybed uses lasercut veneers of smiley faces and penises as a decorative motif around the rails of the bed. Would he have included such a motif without laser-cutter technology at his disposal? Identical circular veneers are hard to cut by hand; the rapid speed of the laser cutter allows humor to be present in this piece.
            The 3d renderings of the software that shapes the construction and design process of much of CAM furniture has an undeniable affect on the end product. A preference for smooth, uniform finishes seems evident upon a superficial survey of contemporary furniture trends. Evidence of the manufacturing process is mostly shunned, but projects like Haptic Craft by Studio Homunculus and the Endless Collection by Dirk van der Kooij celebrate the inconsistencies in mark making of the human hand, and an imperfect industrial robot respectively. The human hand is also present in other pieces, but less obviously, and often with the intention of masking marks. The Cinderella Table, Joris Laarmen’s Bone Furniture, Wertfell-Oberfell’s Fractal Table, the Nendo Diamond Chair, and Patrick Jouin’s C2 chair have all had hand-finishing work carried out to give them uniformly homogenous surfaces. This often takes a relatively large amount of human labor, something Adolf Loos would not be pleased with, and indeed, surprised our culture has not emerged from. In defense of the mark as the finish as the ornament, Kooij’s endless chairs take five hours to produce and require little finishing, and a Nendo chair takes five or six days to produce and must be liberated from its mold by hand.
With the advent of the Internet and global economy, proximity has been decreasing in importance. Increasingly, a digital photograph or video determines how most people will ever view a specific project or unit of furniture. With ShapeWays, individuals can design a product at home, submit a file digitally, and receive a product through the mail. Will tomorrow’s homes be able to furnish themselves with SLS machines taking the place of garage woodshops? Individuals unfamiliar with 3d design programs will order designs digitally from firms, and produce them in their own homes within days. This has the potential to revolutionize the economy of scale by eliminating it entirely. Shipping costs, both economic and ecological, could be halved. A revolution in democratic design and sustainability, by individuals for individuals, could ensue. But rapid prototyping holds in it the potential for a great and unfortunate flood of horrible design. Most synthetic resins used today are derived from fossil fuels, and are toxic. Biodegradable plant based synthetic resins have been developed, but are not in widespread use. With no constraints, new methods of wasteful production would replace old ones. It is the responsibility of the users of these technologies to keep this in mind, and the responsibilities of designers to shepherd the trend.


 Foot Notes
1 Computer Aided Design/Computer Aided Manufacturing

Bibliography
"5 Amazing full sized furniture pieces made with 3d printing." i.materialise. Materialise, 16 Nov 2010. Web. 7 Dec. 2011. <http://i.materialise.com/blog/entry/5-amazing-full-sized-furniture-pieces-made-with-3d-printing>.
Beddard, Honor. "Computer art at the V&A." V&A Online Journal. 2 (2009) Web. 7 Dec. 2011. <http://www.vam.ac.uk/content/journals/research-journal/issue-02/computer-art-at-the-v-and-a/>.
Constable, Scott. "The Scale of Now." Deepcraft. N.p., 04 Nov 2011. Web. 7 Dec. 2011. <http://www.deepcraft.org/deep/archives/4095>.
Foster, Hal. Design and Crime (And Other Diatribes). New York City: Verso, 2002. Print.
Mau, Bruce. Incomplete Manifesto for growth. 1998. Print.






 

Ifeanyi Oganwu, Double Agent Desk, 2011. Composite Material. 2960 x 1780 x 827 mm.


Oganwu visited CCA, and I had the opportunity to ask him about his design process. He explained that he does not draw in analog 2d to ideate- instead; he begins straight away with 3d software to ideate. His forms are the direct result of his unique relationship with 3d software- they embrace the gracious rounded forms one would visualizes when prompted to imagine a 3d rendered form.

Jeroen Verhoeven, Cinderella Table, 2005. Plywood.

 The designers of the Cinderella table wished to illuminate the big magic that is possible when an intelligent machine is liberated from the assembly line. Two sketches of classic Danish furniture forms were transformed by a computer into a digital manifestation. The contrast between machine production of the plywood slices with the immaculate hand finish, coupled with the contrast between the sweeping, abstract curves of the computer translation and the easily recognizable silhouettes  create a piece full of tension and potential interpretation.

Joris Laarman, Bone Furniture, 2006. Cast Aluminum.

The chairs form was influenced by the bone growth influenced optimization software developed by Claus Mattheck in 2004. Nature’s beauty, logic, and strength were tapped to arrive at the form of this piece. However, the software was not used to create the lightest, strongest chair possible, but rather “as a high tech sculpting tool to create elegant shapes with a sort of legitimacy.” Algorithmic software was used to arrive at a form deemed elegant, but not utilized to its full extent. Instead, aesthetics and intention of the designer trumped what could have been a potentially interesting venture. Ultimately, the chair resembles Art Nouveau, but in a new modern aluminum finish.

Michiel van der Kley, Globus, 2007. Baydour shell, cast aluminum base, fabric.

This is not a chair to look outward from to experience a view or engage in a conversation. It is a form that turns the user inwards, presumably towards one’s laptop computer; a complete departure from the Adirondack chair. Ever increasingly, electronic products and networks divert our attention from what is close to us, and encourages humans to forget about proximity.

Platform Wertell Oberfell and Matthias Bar, Fractal Table 2009. SLA.

This is the second iteration of the fractal table with MGX, the first was built through SLS, and this edition of 25 was built with SLA to connect the top grid of branches in a geometric pattern. The form of the table is compelling, and not capable of being manufactured through any other processes.  Executed with Materialise’s Magics software.

COCO Design, Lasercut Table, Steel.


            The functionality of this piece is questionable. Little imagination is used between how to get a flat sheet of material on to the laser cutter, cut it, and create a compelling 3d form. The form is uninteresting, with the laser cut screen details providing ornamentation merely.

Diamond Chair, Nendo, 2008. Synthetic resin.



            The Diamond Chair, another piece that is impossible to produce without the use of additive manufacturing processes, is an exploration of the potential economic future for rapid manufacturing. The project showed the potential for electronic transfer of files to create forms on site instead of shipping a final project to the final destination

Evan Murphy, Puppy Day bed, 2010. Wood, plaster, laser cut veneer, duct tape, bison hide, aluminum.


This piece uses laser cut veneer work to include humor, raising an important question about the merits of rapid prototyping technology. Whether or not the smiley face and penis veneers are essential to the work is subjective. The designer may or may not have chosen to include the veneers if he had to hand cut him. Regardless, the decision is much easier to make in favor of them when the labor is significantly reduced by the laser cutter.
            

Chris Kabatsi for Arktura, Nebula Coffee Table, 2008. 55”x29.5”x13”. Powder coated recycled steel and aluminum, glass top.


A basic rectilinear three dimensional form with an attempt at justifiable ornamentation on the 5 exposed faces. Unnecessary ornament is still unnecessary even with a justification as grand as the cosmos slapped on. Advertised as ‘dynamic and delicate’ it looks unwieldy, dysfunctional, and hectic. A chance to explore the material and arrive at a more proper and delightful ornament, or an understanding that perhaps none at all is necessary, is missed by the designer, when instead a focus is on an arbitrary conceptual algorithm that is easily executed by a laser cutter.

Matthias Bengtsson, Cellular Chair, 2011. Lightweight Epoxy.


Another design influenced by the growth structure of bones, but in Bengtsson’s case, the form of the chair is preset, and a computer program determines the interior structure. The designer maintains control over the overall form, giving it a signature, and then the program is applied, which also gives the chair its ornament in a pleasing, biomorphic way. This is a fair compromise between real utility and decoration, as there is no reason for the chair to be solid, but a more efficient, lighter form could most likely be designed.

Sketch Furniture, Front, 2006. SLS synthetic resin, motion capture.


In this piece, the performative aspects of building are simplified into motion capture technology that allows anyone to sketch furniture in 3d and have it built through SLS in hours. Consideration and caution are abandoned for theoretically more gestural or raw furniture. In reality, the forms presented seem rudimentary, lamely archetypal works. The novelty of rapidly rendered hand gestures made manifest in a  real physical object would likely wear off once it is realized the furniture is neither functional nor particularly sturdy. Just for this alone it is proved useful: we must consider what this could mean as an omen for the future of rapid manufacturing processes. It has never been so easy to make manifest whims in real physical objects. The potential waste is unimaginable.

Platform Wertel Oberfell, Pixel, 2009. Lacquered and printed MDF.


Pixel is a cabinet that appears to be wrapped in a veneer of tropical hardwood, but upon closer inspection, the reality of the veneer as a digital manipulation becomes apparent. It is a subtle critique of the fetishization of tropical hardwoods in furniture. The notion of the pixel itself is an artifact of computer graphics and their evolution. This piece is wrapped in an intellectual sheath that makes it desirable on a cultural level- that it is aesthetically pleasing adds to its effectiveness.

Patrick Jouin, Solid C2 chair, 2004. SLA Synthetic Resin.


Jouin is particularly excited by the eliminations of material and manufacturing concerns that were inhibiting the realization of his projects. He explains this process as the rawest form of his creative expression as a furniture maker, a “pure idea”. The elimination of anyone form the middle of the process makes it a discussion between the material, which has very little to say, and Jouin. 

Gregg Fleishman, Alicia, 1996. European Birch.




 I met Gregg Fleishman in Culver city, stumbling into his studio to get out of the rain. He used to route his chairs and other furniture by hand. With the advent and refinement of CNC milling, he has expanded his operation to include vehicles, play structures, and emergency structures. His work is a good example of how the computer can take a repetitive task such as milling into sheets of plywood and speed it up to allow a designer to create ever more far fetched pieces.

Philippe Starck with Eugeni Quitllet, Mr. Impossible, 2007. Laser welded polycarbonate.

This chair, developed with technology made possible by Kartell, was named Mr. Impossible because at the time of the initial sketch, a joint along the two shells would be large and unsightly. The development of laser welding solved this problem by making a clean join along the length, and creating an “indestructible” form. The design is simple and pleasant. I would like to place a young child in one of these chairs. I think that would be just pleasant.

Philippe Starck with Eugeni Quitllet, Master’s Chair, 2009. Polycarbonate.


Masters is an integration of three classic chairs into a single, writhing form. Silhouettes of the Series 7 by Jacobsen, the Tulip by Saarinen, and the Eiffel Chair by Eames are combined through CAD to create a chair that pays homage to three designers while updating classic form to a new material. The chair could be relying upon its canonical choice of references for its popularity, but the attention to proportion in the way the silhouettes intersect show that it was not merely a hodge-podge, but a carefully considered piece worthy of praise.

Dirk van der Kooij, Endless Salon Table, 2011. 110 x 50 x 32 cm. Recycled Refrigerators.


Dirk van der Kooij has found a robot, plucked from 100,000 hours in an assembly line. He has taken this robot and given it a new purpose. The robot creates furniture, chairs in roughly 5 hours, out of one endless line of recycled refrigerator plastic. Pigments can be added and altered by the human present. The mark the robot leaves, a relatively low resolution line that is not without imperfections in its width is left imperfect- and creates a tangible connection between the user and the way the object was manufactured. This mark and its language become the ornament of the piece.

Joris Laarman Laboratory, The Starlings Table, 2010. SLA synthetic resin, nickel plating.


First, an animation of starlings was scripted digitally. Then a frame was captured that resonated with the studio. This frame was brought into another program which was used to extend each of the birds wings to connect their tips. Another program translated that file into a file suitable for creation using stereo lithography. Laarman proposes the piece as unique, each iteration would be a different freeze of the original animation of the starlings. A natural phenomenon, the flocking of starlings, also called a murmuration, has been harnessed digitally to create a series of tables. This justifies the table’s existence, rather then its form or sensitivity to weight. SLA has allowed designers to borrow from nature directly, Ruskin would be proud of the natural depictions. But there is no distillation of the essence of a starling made manifest in a table: just a table made of starlings made of synthetic epoxy resin.

Bram geenen, Gaudi Chair, 2010. Synthetic Resin, Carbon Fiber.


Geenen examines the tools of the renowned architect Gaudi to create a stool. By hanging chains upside down, just as Gaudi did, Geenen arrived at the forms he wished to utilize for his stool in 2009, and then his chair in 2010. Legitimacy is granted to the project by the use of this technique. Questioning the value of attempts at legitimizing projects through canonical references is important if one believes a form should speak for itself. 

John Briscella, The Throne of Paris, 2009. Aluminum anodized synthetic Resin.

     
Briscella attempts to address the irreverent attitude 3d printed furniture has taken towards the meaning of its own symbolic language by layering a map of the city of Paris over the Starck Louis XIV chair. He creates a double narrative of the disappearance of Louis XIV into the city of Paris, and the use of Paris by Louis XIV to intimidate. Furthermore, he opens up questions regarding special conceptions of a city. By examining history he seeks to legitimize his work. It is fairly effective as a cultural relic, but seems somewhat conceived- where was the need for this piece to exist? It is an effective critique of the fad of generative geometric patterning in rapid prototyping, but its own concept seems too reactionary and obscure.