On one of those luminous days, with mounds of snow melting in recently blizzard-ravaged Connecticut, I went to visit with Niels Diffrient in his studio. He asked me to try out a working model of a lounge chair, his current project. Not your father’s lounge chair, this one is designed to accommodate the analog and digital media we use every day. As I stretched out and felt the comfort and support of the chair, I recalled that Niels had designed a similar chaise at the beginning of the digital revolution when we predicted that work would change dramatically, but had no idea what that change would look and feel like.

It was 1987 and I was working on a Metropolis article, “Chaises Longues,” writing, “For most people, working and relaxing suggest different body positions but the two can be reconciled by the long chair.” As one of our illustrations we showed Niels sitting, feet up with his bulky desktop computer raised to the ergonomically correct height and placed on the swiveling tablet attached to his then new Jefferson chair.

Niels Diffrient is a tinkerer, a fixer, an ever-restless experimenter, and an industrial designer who is not afraid to go back to his old ideas and make them better, more appropriate, more useful. His approach is aided and abetted by his constant search for new information and ideas, gleaned from the great big world of human knowledge we all have access to, but few bother to dive into as Niels does. He is truly a practicing generalist.

So when his new book, Confessions of a Generalist, a self-published and self-marketed biography designed by Brian Sisco, appeared on my desk, I was eager to dip into the details of a life that I knew only through anecdotes. To give you a shorthand idea of Niels’s thought pattern, I decided to excerpt a portion of the book, a section entitled “The Foundation of Generalism.” It’s a start. —SSS

The first thing to understand is that design is not art. As Oscar Wilde is purported to have said “Art is absolutely useless.” In spite of some topical conceits such as “Functional Art” or “Art Design” and other such oxymorons, art remains without utility; design is integral with utility and usefulness. This means fulfilling the needs of people which includes aesthetic considerations, separating it from engineering design and other technical, specialized pursuits.

The next thing to understand is that design, as currently practiced, is an activity not a profession. Whether one is a fashion designer, graphic designer, product designer or interior designer, one is still pursuing an activity or applied practice. Design, as a word, is a verb, not a noun, and as such is not a suitable identifier for a practice that has not yet reached the standards of a profession. Read more…

Indulge me.

I once wrote a poem called “Profession of Mission” in which I attempted to write a personal mission statement. The poem rambled a bit, begged for clarity in my life’s purpose and ended with the word “crossroads” – no punctuation or finality – intentionally open-ended.

I wrote the poem in 2009 at age 44 – clearly the beginning of Mid-Life Crisis. Yes, young’uns, even older folks wonder what to do with the rest of their lives.

One week ago, at age 47 – no closer to an answer or closure – I took myself to Manhattan.

If I can “figure it out here, I can figure it out anywhere,” right?

I’m pleased to report that I found clarity in Chelsea … without a stitch of help from any of Woody Allen’s analysts.

But I did have help.

I attended a daylong workshop called “Design the Life You Love” created by New York-based product designer Ayse Birsel.

Ayse became a friend after I heard her speak at a user conference put on by a client of mine, Swedish design-software company Configura. Born in Turkey, Ayse is Pratt Institute-educated, a Fulbright Fellow whose work is in the Museum of Modern Art and the Smithsonian’s Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum, both in New York City.

She is perhaps best known for designing Herman Miller’s Resolve office system and Moroso’s M’Afrique collection. She and partner Bibi Seck own Birsel+Seck, a design studio that also works with Johnson & Johnson, Hasbro, Hewlett Packard, OfficeMax, Renault, and Target. Ayse designed a potato peeler for Target that’s just $7.99, she says. So, even if you never make it to MoMA or Cooper-Hewitt, you can see (and buy) her products at a Target near you.

Ayse has taken her product design methods – which she calls Deconstruction:Reconstruction™ – and developed the “Design the Life You Love” workshop with concepts and exercises that even non-designers can easily grasp.

The workshop has become a mission for Ayse: “Our lives are our most important project,” she says.

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Though this post was originally set to address the exterior enclosures of mid-century modern buildings, we thought it important, instead, to reflect on the recent death of modernist master Oscar Niemeyer and what might have been.

Niemeyer’s passing serves as yet another benchmark in the passing of the mid-century modern movement into our distant memory. Generally speaking, North American architects are not very familiar with the Brazilian architect’s work. Many would be unable to conjure up mental imagery of it, beyond his government buildings at Brasilia, United Nations collaboration, and perhaps a residence or two. During Niemeyer’s prime, these architects were, as they largely remain today, primarily Eurocentric in their focus.

In mid-century America, Le Corbusier, Walter Gropius, and Mies van der Rohe were chiefly regarded as the “true” masters of the modern movement. Even in more recent history, we’ve paid little attention to the legacy of Niemeyer and his colleagues to the south such as Alfonso Reidy and Lina Bo Bardi in Brasil, Carlos Raúl Villanueva in Venezuela, and the Mexican masters Juan O’Gorman, Luis Barragan, and Felix Candela. We seem to know of them, but not much about them. All of this this might have been very different if Harvard GSD had followed through with its intention to select Niemeyer as its dean when it had the chance.

Carlos Raul Villanueva. Covered plaza, University of Caracas, 1952-1953. Photographer unknown. Printed in do.co.mo.mo, Journal 42 – Summer 2010.

Alfonso Eduardo Reidy. Primary school and gymnasium, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 1948-1950. Printed in Latin American Architecture Since 1945, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1955.

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Andrew Blauvelt, photo courtesy of Walker Art Center

Since taking the position of design director at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis in 1998, Andrew Blauvelt’s title and responsibilities have expanded steadily. In 2005 he added curator to his title, then in 2010 he also became chief of audience engagement and communications. During his 14 year tenure at the art center,  he has curated internationally recognized shows, increased the museum’s community involvement through such projects and public programs as the upcoming skyways show that will surely provoke discussion, and has been the leader of the Walker’s design studio, a recipient of more than 80 design awards that recognize the institution’s renowned graphic communications.

The Walker Art Center, Herzog & de Meuron building, photo courtesy of Walker Art Center

The Walker Art Center began as a collection in 1879, in the home of successful lumber baron, Thomas Barlow (T.B.) Walker, whose residence was very near where the institution stands today. Formally established in 1927, the Walker became the first public art gallery in the Upper Midwest. In 1988 the adjacent Minneapolis Sculpture Garden opened and represents a unique partnership between the city, which owns the land, and the art center, which fills it with temporary and permanent works of art.

Minneapolis Sculpture Garden, photo courtesy of Walker Art Center

The Walker’s long-standing focus on modern/contemporary art began in 1940s.  Its 1971 building by Edward Larrabee Barnes became a national model for museum design with its elegant white terrazzo floors, and galleries with a graduated ceiling height that spiral around a central access core. In 2005 a major expansion, designed by Herzog & de Meuron, opened. With its innovative building design, Sculpture Garden, and progressive exhibitions and public programming, the Walker is a destination point for local, national, and international artists, designers, and visitors.

1971 Edward Larrabee Barnes building, 2005 Herzog & de Meuron building behind, photo courtesy of Walker Art Center

On recent warm September day in Minneapolis, Andrew agreed to answer some questions about the role design played in the Walker’s distinguished history and what he’s up to in 2012 and beyond.

Mason Riddle: Historically, architecture and design have played important roles in the Walker’s programming.  Could you list a few examples of projects, exhibitions or publications?

Andrew Blauvelt: The Walker became an Art Center in 1940 and since that time it has had a design program. The early projects included Everyday Art Quarterly (EAQ), the first museum journal on design, which later became Design Quarterly (DQ). The Idea House Project, which was a museum-sponsored program for modern architecture, was also initiated in the 1940s. The Walker created a design gallery, one of only a few museums (not be confused with decorative arts) to do so in the United States, until the early 1960s when museum director Martin Friedman arrived and did away with dedicated galleries. His wife, Mickey Friedman, became a design curator, one of many women who have had that role at the Walker since the 1940s. She established the Walker’s modern day presence in the design world with a series of major exhibitions in the 1970s and 1980s: Mississippi: Image of the River; Tokyo: Form and Spirit; Architecture of Frank Gehry; Graphic Design in America; and, the Architecture Tomorrow series.

Since those early days the Walker has also had an in-house design studio that produced the graphics, initially for exhibitions and simple communications, as well as exhibition design. Later it also produced EAQ and DQ magazines. During that time, Martin hired Peter Seitz, then a recent Yale graduate who was also in the first student class at Ulm, the successor school to the Bauhaus in Germany. He introduced a truly modern and more European focus to the graphic design at the Walker. This was in the 1960s.

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One of the world’s busiest commercial districts, Midtown is a unique mix of moxie and polish, packed with not just skyscrapers but top-flight showrooms, restaurants, shops, and museums. Here, we’ve listed the area’s best spots.

Check out the Metropolis Design Guide for Design Week events and highlights from New York’s most design-forward neighborhoods.  And look for the printed version of the Metropolis Design Guide around the city, especially in Chelsea at WantedDesign, in Midtown at the Architects & Designers Building and the Decoration & Design Building, in Flatiron at the New York Design Center, and at the newsstand at ICFF at the Javits Center.

Keep an eye out for what we “like” during NY Design Week. Around the city, you’ll see our lovely signs, produced by 3M Architectural Markets using 3M ™ Crystal Glass Finishes, at all of our editors’ favorite, must-see spots. Throughout our neighborhood listings, you’ll also see a next to our favorites.

METROPOLIS LIKES ICFF
Celebrated hub for the latest trends in international design, the International Contemporary Furniture Fair returns this year to the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center. May 19^th to May 22^nd. Get there: Eleventh Ave. at W. 38th St. Find out more: 800-272-7469 or icff.com (image courtesy Barcelona).

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Earlier this month, visitors to PS1 in Queens could find a particularly immersive multimedia experience in the white geodesic “performance dome” currently occupying the museum’s courtyard. Inside, four large video projections circled the dome around a central DJ stand and drum kit. Around that stood the audience, who soon found themselves lying on the ground for a better view of the imagery overhead. Video footage of Chan Marshall of Cat Power, Tilda Swinton, as well as three other “city sleepwalkers” were interspersed with graphic black and white shots of growing skyscrapers, whirling around the dome.

This mesmerizing display marked the release of Sleepwalkers Box, an experimental multimedia publication from the artist Doug Aitken, DFA Records, and Princeton Architectural Press. Based on Aitken’s 2007 film installation at the Museum of Modern Art, the box includes a CD and a limited-edition vinyl picture disc; original artwork by Aitken on a full-color, two-sided poster; a DVD and book on the original MoMA installation; and more. It encourages you to create your own multisensory experience as you explore its printed images, motion pictures, and audio recordings. Read more…

Installation view of Foreclosed: Rehousing the American Dream at The Museum of Modern Art, 2012. Photo © Jason Mandella.

Reactions, responses, and reviews of the Museum of Modern Art’s recently opened exhibition regarding housing in the American suburbs have steadily been popping up here and elsewhere on the Internet. The five design proposals put forth in Foreclosed: Rehousing the American Dream have been called “propositions” in the spirit of instigation, catalyzing necessary conversation on cultural assumptions and priorities.  I admit that I am too closely tied to the exhibition’s project to offer any sort of fair review, but it is with that spirit in mind that I argue those five propositions and the show in which they are contained manage both to reveal and underscore a fundamental conflict in the planning, design, and development of affordable housing and in the approaches taken and not taken in response to the crisis still being faced. That conflict was seen throughout the six-month research and design process and is seen within each of the exhibited projects, in the differences between them, and in the varied criticisms and commentaries they have thus far elicited.

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At first it seems silly, a stop animation video of plastic form elephants parading through an African refuge.

See? It’s a little silly.

But if you learn a bit about the Eames Elephant and its creators, Charles and Ray Eames, you begin to see that same warm glow that a child feels with this toy. Read more…