New-Old - re: beginnings // be still

About a week before our family decided to social distance, this beautiful headshot was taken*. I was on the verge of a new/old re-launch and re-invention of the old/new me. The idea was to restart after I had decided to take time off from office design work, so I could finish dreaming up my own home. After 10 years of almost exclusive office design, going back into the fold of residential design work was a huge learning curve. For starters the pace, which is slow and marathon like, unlike commercial work which is like an explosion of so many moving parts under the strain of tight budgets and time restrictions. Office design for me is a playground of pure joy and fun. These are moments where I shine and enjoy the collaborative work. Moments I felt like what I did had meaning and impact. Whereas residential work at times felt decadent and almost futile. Commercial and office design “happened” to me after the great crisis of 2008, no one was building homes, and certainly a designer was last in line to get any meaningful job. Now, my launch pad has been swept under me, I don’t feel like designing the new post Covid-19 workplace, it is all too sad for me to handle. 

I’m angry, sad and feel wronged. My hopes and dreams of being able to finally arrive at my moment will be for now just that. I buckle at sayings of “well, you know you could...” - They work me up in ways that I can’t express. I’m remorseful after that, not many people know the true path I had taken. I had worked so hard. I’ve been a designer for 20 years now. With 7 years of relentless 60-80 hour school and studio work, time spent of truly thinking how to make a better world for all. I have learned to convert from the metric system to the imperial one. I have seen the rise of the quick 30 minute fixer up home TV shows,  the every person is a designer trend. When I immigrated I had lost my design community, no one willing to support and reach out when I had 3 children, or when things crashed in 2008. Yet I always rose up to the occasion, knowing that as a designer constraints are my happy zone, where true creativity becomes a wonderful reality. 

But this time feels different. Like I have lost my super power, my optimism dissipating. I’m lost. Some of the lost seeds were sown ahead of Covid-19, but now they have mushroomed into a full blown abyss of lack of ability to pick up the pieces and glue any part of shattered hopes and dreams together. It seems decadent, at times futile to even write about this, does it really matter when people are dying? When there is no cure? But these questions were always there even before Covid-19, I’m a daughter of 2 doctors, I know when thigns really matter. Or do I? 

For now I chose to acknowledge. Acknowledge the pain, the hurt, the sadness, the loss. I choose to be still, to look into the eyes of the person that was photographed a mere week before it all changed, and try to figure it out with her. Design requires a deep and meaningful process, and unlike the 30 minute cooking your home shows, there is no easy fix. For now I need to go back to basics, be still and perhaps maybe start to observe. 

*photo credit:http://www.dianalevine.com/

Hot Off The Press

Photo By Dorit Beller De-Beer

The sounds of the heavy steps rushing up and down in the building's stairwell would alway startle me. I'd quickly fall back asleep and forget about it. Later when I woke up I would open the door, and there it laid, that crisp brand new newspaper. 

Every day without fail this managed give me that little ting of exciting joy 'oh what interesting piece of news will I discover today'. It held a sense of promise. 

Never mind that on some occasions I was lucky enough to be part of the team that helped bring the newspaper to life, translating away foreign news items that would hit the AP or Reuters feed (and this pre facebook age mind you). 

Newspapers are exciting and I forgot how much they are. 

Recently with the new political atmosphere we made a decision, we need to go back and become more media literate, know our facts, dig deeper to a story. Prompt our kids to see headlines, ask questions, expose them beyond the sheltered world which they are so so privilege to live in. Quest beyond a feed. 

That is starting to happen, but I also noticed some other things happen. 

I noticed how mono-news-feed assaulted we are, how the structure of a broadsheet paper allows you to physically pick and chose what and how much you want to read. How shallow our news feeds have become, how hard it is to sit and actually read through a whole article of more than 200 words. How limiting it is to our thought process when the news feed is algorithm curated to you, without the freedom of accidental diversion from a set path. The sense of adventure is lost, and with it the joy of discovery. Something very crucial to humans is slowly extinguishing, the deep sense of curiosity that drives us to challenge what is around us, and create new things that have deeper meaning. 

I was reminded how having limited physical space, as you do with printed matter, makes for better higher quality writing, that content put into print creates a bigger commitment to the subject matter. 

Same as with literal spaces, the more constraints one has the more accurate and thoughtful the design of that space will be. That sometimes less is more. 

And that I still have that small ting of excitement in me to see what the front page headline would be. That I like stepping outside in the cold for just a second to grab the paper, smell the crisp air, pause and readjust my new/old found rhythm to a start of a new day. 

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. 

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.