I just found one of Robyn’s dusty sketchbooks, long since forgotten in a closet. Here are a couple of her beautiful sketches of St. Malo, France, drawn during our honeymoon to Europe in 1990. Read the story here.
Here’s a sneak peak of a modern kitchen I am hoping to revive in Minneapolis. The home is a fifties rambler. While the existing, white kitchen has not quite flatlined, it’s close, and I intend to defibrillate it. Here’s how (stand back):
- Open up the kitchen to the dining room
- Reconfigure the generous formal dining room to include a small family room.
- Remove the wall between the dining room and living room. Construct a visual screen in its place to retain privacy and create interest.
- Lower the scale of the vaulted space to a more comfortable human dimension by adding a horizontal soffit and wall that give the occupants a visual clue to the true height (a datum).
- Add color and texture to surfaces as a relief to the bland sheetrock walls.
- Add a skylight in the kitchen.
- Accentuate the horizontality of the space to make it feel larger.
- Provide interest with layering and transparency.
Stay tuned. The next step is mouth to mouth (aka, refine the design).
With some credit also due his mother, the Renaissance hill town of Urbino, Italy gave birth to the renowned, Raphael (the painter, not the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle).
In homage to both Raphael’s, here are two of my sketches, one of pencil using a light hand ala Raphael the painter, the other of ink with the heavier hand of a Ninja Turtle. Let the match begin and may the best man, or cartoon reptile, win (betcha thought turtles were amphibians)!
And the winner is …………………….. ? Raphael!
(didn’t see that coming, did you?)
How long is the journey to paradise? All I know, young grasshopper, is it begins with a single step. Or, in this case, a single drawing. Then more drawings. Ultimately, lots of drawings. And then a few more for good measure. Here is a sampling to give you a glimpse into my house design process.
Here is the result:
O wise and honorable, dead architect, what do you mean the details aren’t the details? If they aren’t the details, then what are the details?
There are no details.
Huh? There are no details? How can…?
Of course there are details, they make the design. They create the big picture. Aren’t you paying attention?
Wait a minute. Didn’t you just say [finger quotes] there are no details? Yet somehow, these nonexistent details create the big picture?
[slight, enigmatic smile] There is no big picture, either.
O.k., Yoda, now you’re just messing with me.
Calm down, apprentice. Perhaps you are familiar with Schrodinger’s cat, a thought experiment in quantum mechanics that posits we cannot know the state of a cat’s existence until it is observed? A similar concept applies here. If you observe (focus on) the big picture, then there are no details. Observe the details, voila, no big picture. We are incapable of focusing on both simultaneously. You know, can’t see the forest through the trees and all that.
So, there are details and there is a big picture, but never at the same time?
Think of it this way, the whole is the sum of its parts, right?
The whole and the parts are one and inseparable. While the whole may be considered as merely the sum of the parts, the whole is also the raison d’être for the parts. The parts cannot be conceived without the whole. So, the parts are as much of the whole as the whole is of the parts.
Let me give you an example. Most houses designed today are functional, but uninspired. And, frankly, uninspiring. Why? Because, when most people create a house, they focus on the big picture and work linearly to create the parts. They inevitably start by designing the floor plan, erroneously assuming that it is the most important aspect of a home. When the floor plan is complete, they extrude the walls up about 10 feet, throw in some windows and cover it with a roof.
But, dead Master, that is not great design. That is not even good design.
Of course not, but it is easy, and most people have neither the time, talent, training or patience to create good design. The focus is typically on expediency, speed and cost. That is why we so value good design when we see it. It is rare.
Hey, this is starting to make some sense.
To craft an exceptional home, one must start by designing the whole and all the parts at the same time, the roof, the walls, the plan, the landscape, the kitchen, the exterior, and especially the three dimensional spaces. Each part affects the design of the whole, and in turn the whole affects each Part. Parts also affect other parts. It’s as though you are a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth between parts, as they all slowly coalesce into a whole. The plan is but one piece of the whole.
Remember Schroedinger’s cat? Well, there are lots of ways to skin it, just like there are countless alternatives for a good floor plan. Why lock in on one plan at the expense of everything else? We must let all the parts of the home shape the plan, in addition to the plan shaping the parts. Keep in mind, we don’t live in plan. We live in three dimensions, and that is how we should design.
Now, I understand! This explains why I am always flustered when a potential client asks me to just “do a quick design” of a home to see if they like it before we get too far along in the process. I cannot do it because the process of good design does not allow it. How can I know what the exterior will look like when I haven’t designed the interior spaces? How can I design the interior spaces before I know how the landscape will affect the views from those spaces? It’s all a giant tapestry, or puzzle, where everything affects, and is affected by, everything else.
Very good. You have made much progress. I shall leave you with one last thought. All along you have assumed I was discussing architecture and design. You were so focused on the details of your own profession, instead of [finger quotes] the big picture, that you didn’t realize I was, in fact, actually talking about… life.
Does the Batcave have a kitchen? If you are reading this, Bruce, call me. I designed a badass custom range hood. For you, I’ll even paint it black.
Of course, I didn’t design it with the Batman in mind (well not consciously, anyway). That’s the funny thing about design, you give it some top and bottom constraints, and then it just sort of meanders around as it wants.
When you hear, “Hawaii,” is this what you imagine? Hopefully, it will be once this modern, glass house is complete.
What makes this pen so cool? Choices. And options. Options with choices. Options with options.
- The minimalist Takumi Pure, from Tronnovate, a recent and astutely managed Kickstarter project, accepts every worthwhile ink refill on the planet (slight bias, here). Most importantly, it accepts the venerable Hi-Tec-C ink cartridge, the staple of my stable (write that three times, fast – without the ink skipping. My Hi-Tec-C can.).
- Because it is constructed from light-weight aluminum (not a bit of cheap plastic anywhere), it is the obvious choice of weight conscious astronauts and long distance runners. And, tight-rope walkers.
- The tip is adjustable (the length it protrudes from the barrel), so you can set the angle-of-attack to fit your writing preference.
- It comes with two cap options (dome or flat).
- The pocket clip is removable! I can’t emphasize how much I appreciate this option. Plus, the clip works fabulously on thick materials, like a leather briefcase or the pocket of your jeans. And, it doesn’t snag.
- You can mix and match components between pens with different finishes. The black body with silver tip doubles, in a pinch, as a magic wand for your kid’s school play. How cool is that?
- The branding is subtle and doesn’t detract from the aesthetic.
What’s most impressive? All these features come in a beautiful, minimalist design. Minimalism, by definition, strips an item down to its minimum function and aesthetic, leaving no room for customization and options. But, these people managed to break that rule without breaking it. Congratulations, Tronnovate!