We all need to Lobby-up

California Academy of Science in San Francisco, CA

Museums are a place of refuge, and possess an almost spiritual pause for me. From the swish of the huge glass doors, to sounds being hushed at the lobby, to the excitement of what journey my brain, mind and soul are to embark on. 

The sheer volume of people seen in museums (art, science, children), made me wonder what is it about the quality of these spaces that make us want to go into them, and maybe even sometimes see a decent exhibition. To further that question, I want to learn if it all it would be possible, to create these types, of seemingly straightforward functional spaces of interaction, and wayfinding, work in their shunned away cousin - the office building lobby -I mean we don't all run and feel happy in offices lobbies, break spaces, or their indoor courtyard cafes (as nice and as clean as they get). 

I have recently been to both big art museums and huge office lobbies and the difference in atmosphere and vibe was so striking to me. Yes you can claim that going to a museum is a mind set of sorts, a mini break from the realities of the world -- though some exhibitions could not bring you any more closer to reality The location of big museums is carefully selected, but this is also true to some downtown office buildings, and even in office parks outside the cities. 

Could it be the intention of why you walk into any of these spaces that makes the difference? 

Hudson Yard's Lobby New York City 

But as a visitor to both these spaces, the grounds for me going to any of them can be similarly exciting // functional -- meeting a new client, creating new connections, building a new space. All (in my view) happy productive things. Where is in museums I try to get inspired while stuck in a creative process (one could claim this might create heavier expectations from that space). And yet these office lobbies depress me to the core and weigh heavy on me. Something is not "right" in them. Most of them borrow from the large 12th century cathedral ceilings, that intend to make you feel small and meaningless. Even if there is a cafe it's a very dire soulless functional one, which only makes matters worse because the lobby area smells of old coffee and stale pastries. Usually the lighting and furniture picked out for these spaces are so "inoffensive" they lack any personaly, grace or function (who wants to sit in a smelly, cold uninviting space). So many more people walk into these office lobby spaces, than to museums. I can't even imagine how they feel going in and out of these places day in and day out of their work week. 

It's not just about the reason or intention you walk with into these spaces, it is the intention (or lack of) whoever built these buildings. An office lobby is just a museum lobby without soul -- and that is the key difference. People want to feel connected, they want to feel someone has put some attention to their wellbeing. It all starts with a meaningful design process that is not just function driven. Yes it means digging deeper, but the effort will pay off in happier more content people in the work space -- and there are more people working in offices than going into museums. 

Welcome to the Machine

                Image source 

The entry of electric appliances to the house, such as the vacuum cleaner, dishwasher, washing machine, have been deemed as a way to create more free time for the modern household keeper.  
If one can magically wash a pile of dishes in one go, one has allowed themselves the time to sit and play with their kids on the neatly cleaned rug which was just vacuumed, and by the way pack a pile or two of clothing into the washing machine -- all along creating an endless cycle of magical machines working alongside each other. 
Don't get me wrong I'm all for handling the washing in a machine instead of heading down the river (especially because where I leave it gets really cold in the winter), but so much of the machine like efficiency dictates our behaviors we have become conditioned to the machine. 
The Swiss architect Le Corbusier, the forefather of our modern day housing projects, who coined the term "A house as a machine for living in", has taken this to the purest terms which has many criticising the 'inhuman' living spaces that have been created when bound to the concept of machine like living spaces. 

Recently I went on a tour of an Amish farm house. It was (I hope) an authentic replica of an existing Amish home. As we were sitting in a tourist trap of the house tour, it dawned on me how much of the so called "time freeing machines", have in actuality made for extensive work with in our day to day lives, and in fact we don't spend much less time accomplishing things in life. It's like when computer drafting tools were made part of mainstream design and architecture practices. Today we spend the same time drafting as in previous generations, but got through more iterations of the drawing, not necessarily in the same depth we used too. 

When we have magical machines whisking away the brunt of the grinding work, we just consume more dishes, clothes, and even buy more rugs to fill our homes. The Amish way of living as curious as it made me, is far from perfect, and in many ways in my view stumps natural human development.

And aside from natural resistance I have to extreme religious forms -- it made me wonder what happens to us humans, when you are limited to an certain amount of dishes, clothes, and even paint colors 
(they are only allowed to use 4 colors in their homes). When all home mysteries, such as electricity or wireless internet, are resolved in front of your eyes. Light is brought in by the sun, or use of oil lamps, hands are washed from water in ceramic basin, food is consumed from local farms. 

It might create for hard physical labor, but I have to admit that when I need to resolves problems I usually hand wash the dishes (perhaps as a means to connect to my foremothers farming roots). We as a society miss the tactile feeling of space and objects, we sometimes need to time to feel textile and not just shove it in the washer, we sometimes need to disconnect from the machine so we appreciate our ability to create and and rethink again. 

Movement Makes Meaning

How we move in space has always been something that intrigued me.

When I was five years old, at my first ballet class, there was a young ballet teacher that made us pretended there was a string attached to top of our heads, and that is how we would be pulled up to sit up straight. I fell in love with the idea that something external and conceptual could make our body move in space. 

Dance is a big part of my life, being totally tone deaf, dance is my only musical outlet of expressing joy in non verbal means. When I imagine people enjoying a space I see them in my mind almost dancing in it. Floating from spot to spot, to a rhythm and tempo the space will provide them with. 

Watching dance performances always made for an exciting and inspiring moment for me, another means of interpreting use of space through choreography and the dancers abilities. Similar to space design there is a non verbal narrative that is left to the interpretation of the viewer or user. 

But this seemingly "free form" expression is only achieved, and will only be read well by viewers or space end users after rigorous training and practice. In order to be able to improvise in space or dance you need to know the basics, the ABC of the point/flex motions and the correct arm extension. 

Over the weekend this clarity came to my mind as I was watching a lyrical hip hop interpretation performance by Rapheal Xavier , he managed to take me on a movement journey, the likes of which I have not been on far too long. He thoughtfully taught me the DNA of movements and sounds that are part of hip hop and then ventured on to go back in time to the roots of hip hop, finishing his piece with the future of hip hop. 

It was short, beautiful, soulful and so thoughtful. It was a master class of how to clearly communicate movement in space -- I was truly moved. 

Losing Touch

Making coffee to a group of designers/architects always proved to be challenging. Never mind the personal taste they each had of how to drink their coffee, but you couldn't even pour it into the mugs lined up, everyone switched them up. 

It was almost ritual like -- one would come to the mugs lined up on the countertop, pick the mug up turn it 15 degrees left, then right, then look at the bottom of the mug, only then would one hold it with both hands, and if it felt like the right fit for that day -- you were able to pour the coffee into the mug. I can not make this stuff up. 

In the last few years more and more tactile biofeedback giving elements of our lives are disappearing. From the click-click-click of the typing machine to a touch screen, from turning a key to operate a car to pushing a button. It's almost like we are losing the ability to feel what we are supposed to do, that we are unlearning our brain to be able to decipher nuance of touch, a very primal part of our being. Some will claim this is part of evolution that it's not as bad as I think it is. But to me any ability we use to read our environment that is lost, is a shame. Any person who suffers from arthritis will attest that loss of sensation is almost like a phantom pain. 

Our society is suffering from this ability to feel contact. Though there are many trends of ergonomic seating, stand up desks, and special handles, they are already being built with the mindset of losing touch, not retaining it. 

In her book Sensation - the new science of physical intelligence, author Thelma Lobel describes how these moments of physical contact with everyday things, like drinking warm coffee before entering an important job interview, or switching on a light switch can trigger different sensations and spark new ideas and feelings. 

I'm not against moving forward while we make easy tabs available for toy manufacturers, but just being mindful that we also need to be conscious of the "touch free" environments we sometimes crave and create and what it must be doing to our soul. 

Time for Some Retail Therapy

"If you could be any store in the world, what store would you be?"

It's the first questions I ask first time clients when I meet them. Sounds like a silly almost juvenile type of question, right? But the response to this question loads me with so much information about a person's personal design sensibilities. Just the word IKEA evokes immediate visual and sensory reaction from any person -- the light birch color, clean lines, smell of cinnamon baked goods, bright light. 

But in the past few years or so things have shifted, it takes a person longer to respond to that question without being cynical and saying "Amazon". But that too is very telling. Our time has become a valuable commodity and between the hussle of very full and active family lives, and increasingly harder to balance work schedule -- going out shopping is not much fun anymore, where is in the past it was considered therapy. To me it feels like going into a teenagers room wanting to pick up after them.

Yes the economy was hit hard and we are in the odd in-between years of trying to marry good UX online with somewhat of a decent similar experience in brick and mortar storefronts - hey even Amazon is opening one! There is value for people to go out and shop, bump into friends, walk around and engage in different environments, while they consume more useless products. We humans need to have a purpose and meaning even if it's a simple one of getting a bar of soap. Most of us don't have a nice park or open space around us, the streets and shopping plazas become these communal arenas. 

Yet we are greeted with visual cacophony, most of it following "design rules" that pre-date the immediate click-of-the-button-swipe-of the-fingerprint era -- Loud music, harsh smells, disorienting product placements, bright lights, low or no-inventory that can easily be found online, a tired salesperson, long lines to pay or return items. Most of these stores are run down, people who work there are annoyed and tired because of entitled "let's just scan this items" consumers. The whole shopping experience has been reduced to that moment of email confirmation of "your item is on it's way". 

It's no secret these retailers are struggling, closing down stores leaving gaping holes in shopping malls, street plazas, and city centers. Which in turn leave us with almost ghost like places. Retailers have yet to make the adjustment to this new world of shopping experience, it's almost like they are at a loss and have given up completely. Like all of us in these odd and fickle economic times they too need to rethink cost-per-sqft or ROI -- yet we humans are not only the sum of that. And our reaction to the lack of seeing us as human in need of contact, efficient, pleasant places to be and interact in is that of that going online. 

Smaller more humanly accessible stores, where one can see the end of it, where there is some inkling experience that makes us pause, smile and give us a meaningful break in our day will go a long way in improving retailer's bottom line and user experience. I want to go back in time to the feeling of excitement I had at the end of the 90's start of 2000's when I pounded the streets of downtown trying to find the next big WOW moment that was supplied by exciting store designs that even the biggest names in architecture at the time were not ashamed to be part of. 
We all lose when a layer of our needs is taken away, and another human factor is lost into the efficient sterile cyber zone. 

Something in the Way

Life gets in the way. It does. So many times I wish for a bubble to be able to think, or at least manage to put 2 and 2 together, without it becoming 5. 

But then again this bubble utopia I wish and long for does not truly exist, even if it did -- would it make it easier to work in this uninterrupted world? I find that in most cases though, as a tell my active 7y, silence is golden, it's sometimes (ok most times) paralyzing. That the "noise" generated by the things around me, hold in them the true grain of creativity. When I'm presented with a "blank" canvas space, where there is nothing to bounces off thoughts from, is when it really gets tricky. 

The challenge is, most commerical spaces are like that, blank, nothing bouncing off right at me. Which is hard, very hard to come up with a narrative or meaning, if you will, for these spaces. So how does one marry love, passion, and creativity into spaces that obviously need the most attention? It becomes a journey of looking into how to amplify some of the hidden "noises", create meaning.

The average American office interior spaces and their design are almost always neglected, and over the years they have been left at the hands of cost per SQFT demands, business cooperations, market trends, real estate forces, furniture manufacturers, and various management theories - but almost never at the hands of the end user - the "average" office worker.

In his book “The European office” Juriaan van Meel proclaims “Office buildings (...) are perhaps the most important building types of the 20th century… They dominate the contemporary city and accommodate more than half the working population in the Western world”.

That to me is mind blowing information - more than half of the working population in the Western world!!! Which on average spend 47 hours a week in these buildings, which is more hours spent sleeping a week, or almost three times more hours spent with immediate family. 

So whenever I walk into a blank space, I keep that piece of information in the back of my mind, because so much time spent in such neglected spaces affect not only the person using them, but society as a whole, it should get in the way, because life gets in the way. 

"Calling Elvis, is anybody home?"*

When was the last time you actually had a conversation with someone? Face to face, or on the phone? I don't seem to remember when this has happened to me last, but it seems that in the rush of life, we've stopped talking, and started communicating through text messaging of any kind, emoticons, and links to the latest TED Talk, but I miss listening to peoples voices. The warmth of the tone of voice is lost, which we try to make up for using silly emojis. 

Some may argue that with these communications tools the revival of the lost art of writing has come back, but has it? A few months ago I had the pleasure of listening to Israeli typographer Oded Ezer, at MassArt, in Boston. Ezer had provocatively stated that text is dead, and we are headed to a place where people will end up communicating with images, photos, and videos. I have to admit this kind of freaks me out. I love text, I use it to help me think, I use it in my design work. Text, is a powerful tool of communication, but so is the lost art of talking to each other, interrupting each other, yelling, and whispering a lovely good night. We lose the ability to be compassionate when we don't hear the tone of voice. 

In the past I have wrote about how the challenges of an open space concept in an office environment created this muted existence within the space. But the actual silence is misleading as there is a lot of online and virtual chatter. I'm not against online or virtual communication, I like using social media, and acknowledge its value (as I tell my 6 year old son, not everything needs to be said out loud). I just wonder what this does to the culture of a company, the casual "water cooler" conversation where people would physically move from their desks, and seek out other people to exchange some ideas, have real eye contact, measure and learn peoples expressions, and interact with the whole complex package of what we call human beings. Office spaces are losing these interaction spaces not only because of the price per SQFT, but also because they are not used as much. We need these interaction spaces, people forget to look up from the screen and just say hello.  

What does it do to our society as a whole, how much disconnect is created through these seemingly amazing tools of communications, how have we become these machine like responders to beeps and vibrations?
How our articulate kids are losing the ability to carry a non scripted conversation. 
I think we need to call Elvis... 

*Lyrics by Dire Straits