The culture of coffee and the lost art of human interaction

I miss it, I really do miss it.

That feeling of just dropping my bag on the ground, leaning back inside the chair, adjusting my sunglasses, and just asking for it -- "Small cappuccino please". A few minutes later, after I managed to take a deep breath, say hello to the person I walked in with, and the aroma filled cup lands at my table, with a side of a small butter cookie. No paper cups here, no lines to stand in while non communicating cell phone glaring humans surround me, no offensive cheap cleaning detergent smell, no dry or cold baked goods. Instead there are sounds of people talking over each other while glaring music surrounds them, the sound of actual spoons clinking on the sides of the cup, a sharp smell of fresh salad being chopped. A constant feeling of something in the air. 

This is not utopia, this place does not just exist in my mind, these coffee houses are commonly found in almost every main street sidewalk, shopping mall, beach, desert, and even some gas stations all around Israel. 

I dare say it is one of the biggest cultural shocks I refuse to adjust too (that, and being told I can get 'cash back'). That fleeting moment of known theater, sitting back, and being seen for a just a millisecond. It as almost as someone stopped time just for you and asked you without too many words "Are you ok?". 

The lost culture of cafe idling is strongly tied to the high demanding office culture. That has yet to make the shift. Most people are expected to be in their work stations by a certain time. The only mark of rebellion is if you are able to walk into the office holding a logoed paper cup -- it signals to all "look at me! I'm so efficient with my time I even managed to drive through and get this lukewarm black something". There is true effort being made to shift in the office coffee culture, by bringing in state of the art coffee machines, some places go as far as bringing in a personal barista crew to your office twice a month. But it's all very artificial. As you are having coffee with the same homogeneous group of self selected people, without the outside world touching you even for a moment.  

Cafes are human interaction sanctuaries.

 

In Europe cafes were the meeting junctions of many thinkers who could cross reference ideas between disciplines. They are a place where the construction worker, the foreigner, the business person, the tired parent, the young student, all walks of life -- can for a moment have eye contact, possible real human interaction -- if they would only be allowed that moment of 'being seen' and offloaded of this pseudo artificial atmosphere of the 'small, medium or large' paper cup battle hymn. That is not a human way to have coffee, it's as if we are race cars stopping for a pit stop.

In the bedouin culture, a culture of nomads who live in the scorching desert sands, the coffee ceremony is very intricate and particular. Three cups are poured. The first will be tasted by the host, showing the guest the coffee is safe, the second will be drank by the guest himself, and then a third cup will be poured to show hospitality, and allow the guest time to talk and feel safe without being rushed out. 

I really do miss it. 

 

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. 

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. 

FFF

FFF. Form Follows Function. Every contemporary designer aspires to reach THAT moment of the (in)famous concept of clarity in design. The term is a simple way to describe a level of purity in design. A moment where all the ornaments are pealed back, and you are left with the bear minimum needed to sustain the function of the chair/building/kitchen. 

Alexa's beaming 'circle of death'

This weekend as we were putting our christmas tree up, we were joined by a new member to our technical family - Alexa; a wireless voice activated speaker. The joy in our household quickly fizzled as it was clear Alexa was all Function and no Fun, the ultimate electronic FFF. Unlike Apple's Siri, Alexa would not respond to silly questions my 6y boy had come up with, leaving him hanging with her blue round 'circle of death' (as my 10y calls it) beaming in front of his eyes. I'm no Siri fan, to be honest all these voice activated devices make me feel uneasy, but at lease she has some artificial intelligence sense of humor built into her. 

Looking deeper into pure functional form of things is a true design exercise. I'll be the first to admit that I too, am a purist, coffee will be coffee no hazelnut-vanilla flavor for me, and I admire clean modern lines in clothing, furniture, light fixtures, and spaces. Usually things that are made to function well, will be less wasteful and harmful to our environment. BUT then I find something is lacking. A human touch, a smile, a sprinkle of sparkle. 

As we brought in our christmas tree, our usually clean lined home, suddenly became friendlier. It smelt like pine, and by the time we were done decorating our spirits were happy and joyful. If ever there was an antithesis to FFF - it's christmas. It's not sustainable, no clean lines, no function what so ever, and full of ornaments. What a christmas tree lacks in function it makes up for in full blown spirit, a magical feeling that we can put last year and it's troubles to bed, that rejuvenation is on its way. Not functional, yet truly valuable for us as humans to feel. 

We should not want to live an a highly functional society that in many ways acts like Alexa. Just looking into the personalities that have brought the likes of Siri and Alexa to the world will allow us a window into the algorithms that rule our day to day searches, and more important - finds. They narrow our peripheral view of things in life, they eliminate exploring further in new ways. This is alarming because as much as I like clean lines, and functional spaces, I love having happy sloppy and messy mistakes that allow me to pause and smile, remind me that after all I am human that not only Functions but also Feels.