Dezeen Music Project: designers Masashi Kawamura and Kota Iguchi made all the animations in this music video for Japanese band SOUR’s single Music Is Life using rotating compact discs.
Kawamura of creative agency PARTY and Iguchi of design studio Tymote used the CDs to create a kind of phenakistoscope, a nineteenth-century animation device consisting of a series of still images that appear to move when rotated.
“The idea came from the lyrics,” Kawamura told Dezeen. “The song is about life and the way it cycles like the rhythm of music. That made me think of using CDs as the surface to create animations on.”
Traditionally, a phenakistoscope would have to be viewed through small gaps to create the illusion of movement and prevent the images from blurring into each other. Kawamura and Iguchi managed to create the same effect by syncing the speed of the rotating discs with the frame rate of their video camera.
“The slits on a phenakistoscope simulate flashes of light and create a kind of strobe effect called persistence of vision,” Kawamura explained. “In our case, we used the frame rate of the camera to recreate this effect without the slits. We shot the film at 15 fps and filmed 17 frame animations to synchronise with the 105 BPM of the song.”
Kawamura and Iguchi created animations on 189 CDs to make the video. They raised the money for the project on crowd-funding website Kickstarter, and backers who pledged $70 or more will receive one of the discs used in the shoot, signed by the band.
L’illustrateur Simon Prades a mélangé ses trois passions : l’architecture, la typographie et Barcelone pour créer cette création BCN composée de blocs d’immeubles de la ville catalane. Une typographie d’une grande qualité « BCN Typography » réalisée à la main, à découvrir entièrement dans la suite de l’article.
Belgian design studio Unfold has created a set of 3D-printed ceramic tools for diluting and diffusing the scents of French perfumer Barnabé Fillion (+ slideshow).
Using a ceramic 3D-printing technique the studio originally developed in 2009, Unfold produced a series of objects to dilute the perfume plus a diffuser that absorbs the liquid and dissipates the scent.
Photography by Marie Taillefer
“The whole setup is an olfactory installation that explores the extraordinary way in which ceramics absorb, store and release a perfume’s head, heart and base notes over a prolonged time,” Dries Verbruggen of Unfold told Dezeen.
Photography by Marie Taillefer
The printed tools include a carafe that holds distilled water, a smaller receptacle for alcohol and a high-necked flask, pipette and funnel used to dilute and mix the perfume.
Photography by Unfold
Diluted perfume is then poured into the central core of an unglazed diffuser and gradually spreads through the multiple compartments, which create a greater surface area to absorb the liquid.
Photography by Marie Taillefer
“The inspiration here was taken from fruit cut-throughs,” said Verbruggen. “When you cut through a lemon for example, you release its essence in the atmosphere but you also expose the intricate inner structure of the fruit.”
Photography by Marie Taillefer
Although the diffuser will naturally release the perfume’s scent over time, the designers created an apparatus that spreads it around, “to give it an extra punch and to add a conscious gesture.”
Photography by Unfold
Any of three different diffusers can be attached to an oak and aluminium contraption and are counterbalanced by a weight. Turning a handle causes the diffuser to rotate, releasing the scent as it spins.
Photography by Unfold
The items are printed from fine layers of ceramic that produce a stratified surface. “The technique is very suited for intricate and complex ceramic shapes like the diffusers,” Verbruggen explained. The vessels have a layer thickness of one millimetre that results in a rough surface, while the more precise diffusers are formed from 0.5 millimetre-thick layers.
Photography by Unfold
Unfold created the installation for the launch of Barnabé Fillion‘s perfume brand, which is called The Peddler and focuses on the experience of scent through temporary events and exhibitions. Their machine was one of several collaborations Fillion undertook with artists and designers, and he presented the results at Maison & Objet in September.
Architect Zaha Hadid‘s gallery space in London is to host a show of work by fashion designer Elke Walter, who creates many of the statement pieces worn by the architect.
Zaha Hadid wearing one-of-a-kind design by Elke Walter. Photograph by Tung Walsh
Elke Walter creates unconventional one-of-a-kind garments that are draped into extravagant shapes rather than cut and fitted, which have become a favourite of Zaha Hadid‘s.
Walter first met Hadid during Design Miami 2006, where her garments were on display at a charity event. “She just tried on, then about half a year later we were contacted by her PA and she asked if the pieces were still available,” Walter told Dezeen.
Zaha Hadid wearing one-of-a-kind design by Elke Walter. Photograph by Tung Walsh
Since then, Hadid has chosen Walter’s designs to wear for photoshoots and the opening events for her high-profile building projects including the Guangzhou Opera House.
“When I know it’s for a special event, I do something that nobody else would and she looks so great in it and I love that,” Walter said.
She revealed that she’s happy to find a customer who likes her designs. “Regular customers find my designs too crazy,” said Walter. “Maybe [Hadid] has some of the craziness that I have. I can’t explain why she likes them, maybe there’s a link between how we both think and design.”
Zaha Hadid wearing one-of-a-kind design by Elke Walter
Her garments are often voluminous and use a lot of material, creating flexibility and allowing them to fit any body type.
“You can move in it,” she said. “Even if it’s a big piece, you always feel comfortable, like it belongs to you. The pieces are adjustable to different people’s bodies and this comes from the way I cut it.”
Instead of using patterns and cutting sections of fabric to sew together, she drapes and folds the material over a mannequin and sometimes herself so form the shapes.
“I create the shape by cutting straight into the fabric, or holding it up like a sculpture but it takes a lot of time,” she explained. “I want to give it a shape from all sides so you could also put it on a hanger and use it as a decorative piece, thats my goal.”
One-of-a-kind design by Elke Walter
Walter primarily works with synthetic fabrics as they tend not to crease as much as natural materials.
“The advantage of these new fibres is that you can wash them, you can wear them, you can sit on them, you can sleep in them, they don’t change,” she told us. “I can’t stand it when somebody gets up from sitting in a silk dress and it’s all crinkled.”
Walter will be showing and selling her one-of-a-kind pieces along with a simple range of black clothing she calls Essentials at the Zaha Hadid Design Gallery in London’s Clerkenwell district from 21 to 23 November.
Door handles created by late Modernist architect Lina Bo Bardi for her home in São Paulo have gone into production 62 years after she designed them.
The horn-shaped lever handles are being manufactured by British design brand Izé, founded by Financial Times architecture correspondent Edwin Heathcote, who has licensed the design from the Lina Bo Bardi Foundation.
“They lent us a pair of the original handles from the house which we then copied and cast, then they gave us the rights to produce them,” Heathcote told Dezeen.
Bo Bardi created the handles for the 1951 Casa de Vidro (Glass House), which she designed for herself and her husband in the Morumbi neighbourhood of São Paulo. She always intended for the handles to go into production, Heathcote said.
The glass-walled Casa de Vidro, surrounded by jungle and raised up on stilts, has recently been hailed as an important Modernist landmark as part of a wider re-evaluation of the work of Bo Bardi, who was born in Italy in 1914 and died in Brazil in 1992.
Original door handle in Bo Bardi’s Casa de Vidro
“I think it’s a particularly humane type of Modernism,” said Heathcote, comparing the house to villas by Le Corbusier and Mies van der Rohe. “I think this building provides a paradigm of how Modern architecture does’t have to dictate how it’s used. It can be looser and more amenable to transformation.”
Casa de Vidro interior
Bo Bardi and her husband Pietro Maria Bardi moved from Italy to Brazil in 1946, where she completed a number of social housing and private projects. Her work, including her São Paulo Museum of Art, has only recently become more widely recognised; last year she was the subject of Lina Bo Bardi: Together, an exhibition at the British Council Gallery in London.
Lina Bo Bardi
Heathcote believes the delayed recognition of Bo Bardi’s work is partly due to Brazil’s geographical isolation and partly due to the fact that she is a woman.
“São Paulo is a long way from New York and Europe, where the prevailing trends have been coming from,” he said. “It’s only now that Brazil is getting richer and opening itself up at lot more. People are travelling there, the arts scene is happening, people in Europe and America are realising like good the architecture in Brazil was.”
Casa de Vidro exterior
“I think [it’s] probably also because she was a women, much like the Eileen Gray situation,” he added, referring to the Irish Modernist designer whose importance was overshadowed by her male contemporaries. “Eileen Gray has only really been picked up in the last twenty to thirty years and has only really been recognised in the last five or six years, and I think its the same with Lina Bo Bardi.”
Heathcote set up Izé in 2001 to produce door handles and other fittings for architecture projects. “It turned out that the door handle was, proportionate to its size, was the most influential piece of the building that I could think of that I could get into manufacture,” he said. Previous products include handles designed by Studio Toogood, Eric Parry
Photos of Casa de Vidro are by Edwin Heathcote. Here’s an edited transcript of the interview with Heathcote:
Daniel Howarth: How did you come to set up a company making door furniture?
Edwin Heathcote: My background is in architecture and I have always been interested in production and the design of the object. I gave up architecture but I was still interested in the design and being part of the building process, I tried to isolate the smallest but most important element that would lend itself to manufacture; I didn’t want to get involved in the whole building process.
It turned out that the door handle was proportionate to its size; it was the most influential piece of the building that I could think of, that I could get into manufacture. We started by reviving some of the designs from the twenties and thirties and then the fifties. We started commissioning people at the same time, and we’ve been plugging away at it for a dozen years.
Daniel Howarth: How did you get the rights to produce the Bo Bardi handle?
Edwin Heathcote: We worked with the Lina Bo Bardi Foundation, which is based in the house she designed for herself, the Casa de Vidro in São Paulo. Over the period of a about a year they lent us a pair of the original handles from the house which we then copied and cast, then they gave us the rights to produce the handles.
Daniel Howarth: Why is the house and the design so special?
Edwin Heathcote: I think it’s a particularly humane type of Modernism. I think that there’s been a type of Modernism that’s been made iconic, the kind of Corbusian villa has become the kind of symbol of the Modernist house. The Corbusian villa and Mies’ Farnsworth House offer these sort of twin poles, and they’re very keen to achieve a kind of perfection. I think that the Lina Bo Bardi house is looser, it has a kind of humanity to it that is slightly lacking in both of the other, both in Corb and in Mies.
It has a sort of, I hesitate to say, a Brazilian joie de vivre. But I think its something of that in it, this house in the jungle, the way it’s integrated into the landscape is very informal. Inside you have this feeling that you’re part of the landscape, the tree comes through the middle of the house and the courtyard. It somehow much more integrated in the surroundings. It’s a sort of alternative Modernism.
Daniel Howarth: What makes Bo Bardi stand out as an architect?
Edwin Heathcote: There’s one building in particular: SESC Pompéia [a former factory in São Paulo that Bo Bardi and her husband converted into a multi-purpose building between 1977 and 1982]. That building in particular has been up by contemporary commentators as an example of how you can achieve quite a fierce Modernism, using existing industrial buildings and an existing urban context, and create a real piece of city, create a functioning, organic piece of city, which is adaptable and which people can adopt as their own.
I think the tendency of Modernism has been to impose a building which is either then used or not used. Obviously some Modernist social housing is an example of the failures. But I think this building provides a paradigm of how Modern architecture does’t have to dictate how it’s used. I can be looser and more amenable to transformation.
Daniel Howarth: Why was she unrecognised for so long?
Edwin Heathcote: I think São Paulo is a long way from New York and Europe, where the prevailing trends have been coming from. There’s this kind of band of LA, New York, Europe, Japan, which have been the northern hemisphere grouping that has dominated architectural culture. I think it’s only now that Brazil is getting richer and opening itself up at lot more, people are travelling there, the arts scene is happening, people in Europe and America are realising like good the architecture in Brazil was, I think for a long time they just hadn’t really noticed. They were too concerned with their own issues.
I think [it’s] probably also because she was a women, much like the Eileen Gray situation. Eileen Gray has only really been picked up in the last twenty to thirty years and has only really been recognised in the last five or six years, and I think its the same with Lina Bo Bardi.
These underpants by British company Shreddies are designed to stop farts from smelling (+ slideshow).
The flatulence-filtering pants have a back panel made from cloth that incorporates carbon.
The odour vapours are trapped and neutralised by the carbon, which can be reactivated simply by washing it.
Called Zorflex, the material is normally used in chemical warfare suits and is capable of stopping smells 200 times stronger than the average fart.
Unfortunately it does nothing to muffle sound.
The products were invented in 2006 by Paul O’Leary and developed with a team of designers from the Contour Fashion lingerie design course at De Montfort University in Leicester.
Shreddies specialises in healthcare underwear for conditions like incontinence and the range of flatulence underwear was originally intended for people with conditions such as IBS, Crohn’s disease and food intolerances.
Recognising that there could be a much wider market, the company has now launched the products with retailers.
Here’s some more information from Shreddies:
Shreddies make amazing pants that filter out odours and have won awards for their innovative design and ability to change lives. In the last few months Shreddies have been taking the first steps into the world of retail and have now signed up 9 retailers including Fenwicks and Bentalls who have prominent department stores across the UK.
In conjunction with the retail launch Shreddies have recently done a photo-shoot to front the new campaign. The shoot last Tuesday saw models Tom and Beth from DNA modelling agency frolicking around the beautiful Cotes Mill in Loughborough. The concept behind the shoot was ‘live life in Shreddies’ and features many day-to-day lifestyle shots.
Although Shreddies get cheeky with the new campaign, to many people they still remain very much a healthcare product and have helped so many cope with conditions such as IBS, Crohn’s disease and food intolerances. But the bottom line is that Shreddies are for everyone, after all, it’s something we all do!
Whether or not you’re familiar with the name Steven Vogel, it’s more than likely you’ve ogled his work in one field or another; be it his pioneering music and menswear blog, his expert projects for big shots like Burton and Levi’s, or his…
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Van der Lubbe, who co-founded the event, remembers its much more humble beginnings when she was “happy with 5,000” visitors.
Strijp-S during Dutch Design Week in Eindhoven
She reveals the first Dutch Design Week was borne out of a frustration among local designers over the lack of a proper platform to present their work.
“Why do we always have to go to Milan to show our work, as if you are only something in design if you are there?” she asks. “In Holland there was nothing, so let’s see if we can actually pull something off here.”
Area 51 skatepark in a former industrial building in Strijp, Eindhoven
Van der Lubbe believes that the pro-active spirit of Eindhoven-based designers helped Dutch Design Week quickly get off the ground and grow into the event that it is today.
“There were all kinds of initiatives going on,” she says. “There’s a good urban culture here; people are actually doing stuff instead of talking, which is a big difference, and it grew up to be this huge event.”
The first area van der Lubbe takes us to is Strijp, a former Philips industrial complex that is now one of the central areas of Dutch Design Week.
“The Klokgebouw, one of the old industrial buildings, is the starting point of Dutch Design Week,” van der Lubbe says. “This week there are about 400 events of almost 2,000 designers.”
She then takes us to the graduation show at Design Academy Eindhoven, the school where most of Eindhoven’s designers, including van der Lubbe herself, received their education.
Design Academy Eindhoven graduate show
Van der Lubbe says that current graduates do not benefit from the same economic support that she enjoyed when she graduated.
“The government was very much aware of the importance of creative people,” she says. “There were a lot of funds and we did not have to earn our money from day one.”
“But when the [economic] crisis came in, that all changed. I think it is now the obligation of companies to create opportunities for creative people to grow. I think that is also the role of Dutch Design Week, to be between culture and the money.”
Wire frame of a chair by Nacho Carbonell
Next, van der Lubbe takes us to Sectie C, a new design district where young designers including Nacho Carbonell open their studios up to the public. We then head to Eat Drink Design at Kazerne, a gallery and restaurant housed in a former army barracks.
Sectie C during Dutch Design Week
“[Dutch Design Week] is really different from all the design weeks in the world because it comes out of the designers themselves,” says van der Lubbe. “They open up their doors, you’re welcome in their studios or in their workspaces. You actually can feel the vibe of innovation and of new developments.”
Eat Drink Design at Kazerne, Eindhoven
“Martijn Paulen, the new director of Dutch Design Week, said: ‘what is visible in Milan in two years, you can see that here now.'”
We drove around Eindhoven in our MINI Cooper S Paceman. The music in the movie is a track called Family Music by Eindhoven-based hip hop producer Y’Skid.
L’île de Fogo au Canada commence à multiplier les projets architecturaux étonnants et ambitieux réalisé par Saunders Architecture. Ce projet d’hotel « Fogo Island Inn » offre 29 chambres et des lieux de vie d’une incroyable beauté, permettant de profiter pleinement du paysage. A découvrir dans la suite.
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