11 Paper Place
Posted in: Uncategorized11 Paper Place is a love story about two 8.5 x 11 sheets of paper that magically transform into..(Read…)
11 Paper Place is a love story about two 8.5 x 11 sheets of paper that magically transform into..(Read…)
Chinese studio Neri&Hu recently completed an office featuring raw concrete and angular meeting rooms, extending its portfolio of projects that includes shops, restaurants and houses. Our new Pinterest board gathers these projects together.
Follow Dezeen on Pinterest | More projects by Neri&Hu
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“There are toxic words in every field and, when it comes to design, two of the most ominous are ‘sculptural’ and ‘artistic’. Not that there is necessarily anything wrong with design projects exhibiting either quality, but those that are described as doing so seldom do. Instead, they are very likely to be any or all of the following: bland, silly, blingy, pretentious, shoddy, derivative, ugly, ridiculous, or unjustifiably expensive. Check out the dodgier booths at a ‘design-art’ fair to see what I mean.”
–Alice Rawsthorn writing on the difference between art and design in the latest issue of Frieze
New Career Opportunities Daily: The best jobs in media.
« 11 Papier Place » est une histoire d’amour entre deux feuilles de papier qui se transforment comme par magie en personnages grâce au dysfonctionnement d’une imprimante. Réalisée en partie par Daniel Houghton, cette belle histoire pleine d’imagination et de créativité donne le sourire à ceux qui l’a regarde.
The second project on Dezeen today from Czech studio Petr Hajek Architekti is a house on the outskirts of Prague with rooms that branch out in all directions to frame views of nearby trees (+ slideshow).
“The inspiration for the proposal of this house is in fact a chameleon,” said Petr Hajek Architekti, whose other recent project is an underground education centre. “Windows like eyes unrestrictedly observe the surroundings,” said the studio.
Related story: House on the outskirts of Prague by Martin Cenek
Named Chameleon House, the building’s sprawling configuration also creates gaps in between the rooms, which frame sheltered garden areas that cannot be seen from inside.
“Each room has its unique view and atmosphere. The building is resting like a lizard in a sun-lit meadow,” added the team.
The position of these blind spots was determined by the desire to limit views towards and from neighbouring properties, a road and a playground.
Exterior surfaces are covered in lumpy polyurethane foam, which is treated with semi-gloss paint to pick up colours from the garden and the sky.
An entrance at the end of the longest and narrowest arm leads to a corridor flanked on one side by built-in storage and a small washroom.
The hallway emerges into the central living area, which contains a fireplace, kitchen island and a dining table that seats up to twelve people.
Slanting walls supporting a low storage unit and a full-height bookcase, directing views towards a picture window facing an apple tree, which adjoins a doorway out to the garden.
The bedrooms and master bathroom are arranged off the central space and separated from it by glass partitions. Track-mounted curtains can be drawn to separate the rooms and provide privacy.
The master bedroom looks out at a cherry tree and is positioned next to the main bathroom. A toilet and shower in the bathroom are contained in a plywood box, while a bathtub and sink by the window look out towards a nearby peach tree.
Two rooms for the family’s children are situated side-by-side in one of the wings that faces a walnut tree. Beds cantilever from a partition between the narrow rooms, which also houses concealed storage and a secret door connecting the two spaces.
The final arm, which is directed towards a silver spruce tree, contains a guest bedroom with a desk against one wall and an en suite bathroom and bed along the other.
The building’s structural blockwork walls are finished internally with smooth concrete that contrasts with the beech plywood used for the flooring, partitions and fitted cabinetry.
Photography is by Benedikt Markel, unless otherwise stated.
Here is some additional project data from the architects:
Architect: Petr Hajek Architekti
Main architect: Petr Hájek
Design participation: Cornelia Klien, Ondrej Lipensky, Martin Stoss
Location: Prague – Lipence, Czech Republic, Europe
Client: private
Function: family house
Site area: 1627 sqm
Building area: 157 sqm
Total Floor Area: 137 sqm
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features rooms that point in different directions appeared first on Dezeen.
Australian architects Peter Hogg and Toby Reed designed this small chevron-shaped art gallery for a client seeking a space to display his late wife’s paintings (+ slideshow).
The Arrow Studio, named after its distinctive shape, was designed by Peter Hogg and Toby Reed Architects (PHTR) for a site in the garden of their client’s home in Hanging Rock, around 400 kilometres north of Sydney.
The architects saw the project as an opportunity to rethink the traditional white cube gallery, and instead based their design on the steel-clad country sheds that are typical across Australia.
“Although it is very small, it allowed us to do a riff on the basic architectural unit of the cube on tabula rasa,” Hogg told Dezeen.
Related story: Polygon Studio by Jeffery Poss and WORKUS Studio
Security was a key aspect of the design brief, so the architects were asked to minimise the number of windows, locating them in places that would be difficult to break into, and that also wouldn’t compromise the number of hanging spaces.
“This became the generator of the shape, which hides the windows behind the screened areas at each end,” said the architects, explaining how the builders referred to these ends as “rotated gables”.
The building needed to be delivered on a strict budget – little more than the cost of an off-the-shelf garden shed – so the architects specified low-cost plywood for the walls, then clad them with galvanised metal sheets.
“The galvanised sheets overlapped diagonally form a second skin which helps insulate and protects the ply from the harsh conditions,” said Hogg and Reed.
There are no internal partitions within the space. The client uses it as a study, allowing him a quiet retreat from the house.
The space between the house and the gallery is used as a space for entertaining guests, while the opposite side functions as a space for BBQs, overlooking the bush beyond.
“At night, the room acts as a giant lantern, illuminating the bush garden,” added the architects.
Hogg and Reed aren’t the first architects to design an arrow-shaped building – Japanese firm International Royal Architecture completed a seaside house with the “form of a pure white arrow” in 2012.
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installed in an Australian garden appeared first on Dezeen.
Le designer américain Ryan Ziegelbauer a décidé de recréer en LEGO l’hôtel du film de Wes Anderson : The Grand Budapest Hotel. Le designer a repris tous les détails de l’hôtel, de ses couleurs, à l’arbre près. La conception de ce bâtiment, devenu culte, est à découvrir en vidéo, avec la présence du Lobby Boy.
For decades, typography has lacked a vital component. Yet most of us probably had no idea what was missing.
Soon after type made the jump from metal and wood to film and digital, it became size agnostic. Users gained the ability to scale a font for any setting, but lost the type maker’s size-specific optimizations; this newfound freedom altered the typeface’s intended appearance and, in many cases, its integrity. Fonts made for small text looked clunky and inelegant when enlarged. Fonts made for headlines became anemic and unreadable when reduced for body. With minor exceptions, typography endured decades of this deficiency. Only a few digital “optical size” families were available (and those were limited to just a few foundries — and thus methodologies for making them). Just as importantly, awareness of size-specific type turned scarce, too. As digital typography became the norm, traditional practitioners faded away and widespread knowledge of size-specific type went with them.
Ironically, it was the primary focal point of the digital world — the computer screen — that sounded the alarm. Once any font could be used on a website, the drawbacks of one-size-fits-all fonts were exacerbated by the coarse resolution of the pixel grid. This has spurred a renaissance of type optimized for the right setting. In the last few years, more size-specific fonts have become available than in the previous 50 years. And a much greater percentage of new families offer these variations. Still, although size adjustments were commonly practiced in metal type for half a millennium, not much documentation has surfaced on the subject. This is just the right time for a book called Size-specific Adjustments to Type Designs.
As its deadpan title suggests, this book is not a breezy page-turner for the casual observer. Tim Ahrens and Shoko Mugikura spin no amusing yarns to make the content more accessible, nor do they weave complex Bringhurstian metaphors. (There are, however, a few snappy analogies.) Instead, the authors explain the concepts in a way that is as concise and straightforward as possible. The style could be called dry, but some might prefer dry over sweet and flowery. And, while it is serious and academic, it also lacks the drawn-out meanderings and complications of some academic texts. The principles are delivered with minimal embellishment — and the result is clarity.
This is why I can recommend Size-specific Adjustments to both type designers and anyone else who truly wants to understand type. Despite the specialized topic, this stuff is valuable even to those who will never sketch a letter or fire up Robofont. Those who choose and use type in any capacity will benefit from what this book has to offer. In discovering the ways that type can be optimized for specific applications, readers will learn a lot more about variations in lettershape, stroke contrast, proportions, and spacing than nearly any other text can teach. If nothing else, Size-specific Adjustments will impart a deeper sense of the study and rigor involved in creating a professional typeface.
To the type designer, of course, a book like this is manna. In the introduction, Christian Schwartz describes how practical knowledge and intuition were his only guides when he learned how to draw type for different sizes:
My eyes and hands knew what to look for and what to do, even if my brain didn’t completely understand why I did these specific things. … this book has become an invaluable resource both for new type designers learning the craft, and for experienced practitioners looking to understand the reasons behind our instincts.
Perhaps it’s the narrow topic that makes this book so successful. We often moan about the lack of books dedicated to type design; one reason for the shortage may be that a broad guide attempting to cover the full scope of type making just isn’t practical. Size-specific Adjustments makes a good case for focus. Rather than gobbling a whole pie in one sitting without truly appreciating any of its flavors, let’s try savoring one piece at a time.
The 192-page book is divided into two sections. The first quarter contains material on size-specific adjustments, including history, rationale, scientific research on perception and reading, and (the most useful bit for type makers) design advice. It is a deep exploration into all the significant decisions that can be made to achieve the intended appearance and improve the performance of type at a given size. There are plentiful type samples to help explain the text. I only wish there were more illustrations of type in action, demonstrating the effect of the adjustments (and lack thereof) in print and on screen.
The remaining pages are dedicated to type specimens, showcasing over 100 type families with type-specific variants. Rather than cataloging every qualifying typeface available, Ahrens and Mugikura chose faces that “follow an unconventional approach in terms of optical sizing or show unusual or unique techniques and treatments of the sizes.” The samples are well considered, examining both individual lettershapes (with basic glyph sets) and spacing (with paragraph samples) in multiple relevant sizes for comparison.
The specimen section is revealing and instructive, not just for the purposes of size-specific design, but also as a general reference for type selection. Third-party font specimens are increasingly rare, especially those that are designed with consideration for the breadth and individuality of each family.
No elaborate critique accompanies the specimens (although the authors do offer an opinion now and then), but any analysis is simply refreshing in a world of rapidly increasing new type releases and very little informed criticism.
This edition of Size-specific Adjustments is a major revision of a paper that Tim Ahrens wrote in 2007 as part of his MA in Typeface Design at the University of Reading. Ahrens’ thesis was published as a book but, like many academic texts, it was overpriced and underpromoted. Worse, the printing quality wasn’t worthy of the content.
I only have access to a pre-release PDF of the book, so I can’t comment on final product, which will be printed in July. I can say, however, that the pages are well designed. The typesetting is excellent (as one would expect from a book designer like Mugikura), and the layout is as clear, unpretentious, and utilitarian as the content. This attitude is reflected in the forthright typeface chosen to set the text: JAF Bernini Serif, an as-yet-unreleased companion to the exemplary JAF Bernini Sans.
You can pre-order Size-specific Adjustments for €29. That’s a very reasonable price. It’s especially comforting knowing that every single euro is going to the authors, who clearly put a lot of care and passion into the book. I hope Size-specific Adjustments sparks the production of more size-specific typefaces, as well as in-depth guides on type design.
Stephen Coles is the editor of Typographica, Fonts In Use, and The Mid-Century Modernist, and author of The Anatomy of Type. He works from his girlfriend’s flat in Berlin and his cat’s home in Oakland.
La marque de caméras GoPro nous invite à suivre dans cette superbe vidéo les ours polaires traversant l’Océan Arctique à la recherche de terres glacées pour vivre. Une vidéo tournée à la HD Hero3+ émouvante, réalisée avec la complicité du Arctic Exploration Fund.
Dezeen Music Project: a father takes an epic train ride to reach his daughter in this stop-motion music video by animator Simon Roberts for emerging UK band Flight Brigade.
Simon Robert‘s animation loosely follows the lyrics of Flight Brigade’s track Sirens.
“I really just wanted to enhance the story in the song,” Roberts told Dezeen. “I wanted it to feel epic and I wanted to create drama that struck the right balance between being subtle and dramatic.”
The father walks through a wintery landscape before boarding a steam train in the hopes of reaching his far-away daughter, after learning she is in distress.
His train travels along a seemingly endless railway line through a snowy landscape of bare trees, with the passing of days and nights marked as the light changes. The railway track rises and tangles to form a mountain that the train rattles through on its journey.
Along with the father and daughter mentioned in the song, Roberts introduces another character into his graphics.
“In my mind he takes the place of the audience who sees the situation, but unlike the audience he can also communicate with the characters and help move the narrative forward,” said Roberts.
Roberts, who graduated from London’s Royal College of Art in 2012, filmed all of the sequences using a camera, only adding effects such as snow and air particles on the computer.
Working on two different-sized tables, he shot many of the sections separately using a green screen and combined them digitally.
“Shooting the elements separately was great because it allowed me to have a lot of flexibility to control the final shots and make them more interesting,” said Roberts.
Matchsticks and cut-up lolly sticks were used to make the models, while plasticine formed the floor and old socks were shaped into the puppets. “I think the cost of all the materials you see onscreen is about £70,” Roberts said.
The collaboration with Flight Brigade came about through a friendship with two of the band members. The group was initially looking for a Manga artist to create the graphics to accompany the track, but they asked Roberts to come up with the visuals after seeing his tests.
“Generally I think we were all just keen to get lost in making something cool, and I was able to do loads of research and development that I can take forward into future projects,” he explained.
“I spent more time on the project than I should have but it was definitely worth it.”
Sirens was released with a track called Smoke & Wine as a double A-side single earlier this week.
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follows an animated train journey appeared first on Dezeen.