6 minute read
Day 29 Jeff Bickert
DAY 29
16 Jeff Bickert, Editor TUNNEL
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Today we see a vast “wealth” of schemes meant to compensate for, circumvent, confront, spurn or ignore the quarantine and socialdistancing measures we have all been observing for some time now. For better and for worse these schemes include a vast array of adhoc DIY mask designs, home-brew hand sanitizers, preventatives, “cures” and more. These, in addition to countless compensatory and substitution scenarios designed to stand in for whatever it is we don’t or can’t have, from common food items and household goods to entertainment, physical recreation and social engagement.
Just as we witness this nearrandom proliferation we also see, in parallel – both in reaction to and anticipation of the developments driven by the current crisis – a deluge of questions. Perhaps the biggest such question today and looking forward – well forward into the indeterminate future, in the most general, existential sense – is this: Are we supposed to go on hiding; and if so, how long are we going to hide?
The question however is not the right question, it is a false choice, on at least two critical points. This formulation suggests there is an actual choice involved, and that we must choose from two alternatives: hide, in relative safety, or open up and preserve our way of life (as part of the larger economic mechanism). It maintains that these are our only choices, and, ergo sum cogito, that the question posed is the only correct and relevant proposition; and further, the answer – the resulting question –
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So, how long are we expected to hide? For the foreseeable future, until it’s safe, until there’s a vaccine, a treatment, a cure, until we have widespread testing, develop so-called herd immunity, until the end of time? Until things change?
But things don’t change – we change things. Changing things starts with changing the question. And a variation on a well-worn cliche says we can’t expect a different outcome if we keep asking the same question.
If nothing else, this pandemic has raised – has moved us to raise – a plethora of questions that address the very fundamentals that frame, direct and dictate our lives – our lives as social beings, as custodians, as human subjects. Thus the question: Are we to go on distancing indefinitely; is that to be our new reality?
Are we not distanced enough already? Do we not increasingly practice distancing through social media, with all of our individual music, film, news, entertainment and communication apps, platforms and services? We tend to stay home and watch, listen, “engage”. And even then we call before we video chat, and text before we call; even emoji before we text.
Hiding is anathema to the very concept of humankind as social beings. Without putting undue emphasis on it, hiding is not social behaviour, it is distinctly anti-social. Disclaimer: To be explicitly clear, we are not advocating or inciting people to disregard or disobey rules put in place to protect us, all of us, and which are put in place in our very (and largely genuine) best interest.
By the same token, however, these are (and must be) temporary measures only; and are largely the result of an unwillingness to do more, to take real preventative and preparatory measures; to change; to take a very different position from the beginning; to ask a very different question: How (as social beings) do we want to live?
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Perhaps it is more than ironic that CfC’s exhibition theme in 2018 was “Open”, which declared that Slovenia and design coming out of Slovenia was open to new thinking and approaches, to new issues and concerns, methods and materials, open to flexible use, sharing and sales. This time around has proved no less ironic. The theme for CfC’s Milano 2020 exhibition, Tunnel 29, was set months before the world began hearing of a deadly virus that threatened to spread precipitously and would require unprecedented measures to contain and control it.
The selection jury gathered an array of compelling designs under the rubric “Design for a postapocalyptic world,” which focused on positive material cycles, smart efficiency, the use of existing materials and technologies, mobility and the environment. Yet while this body of designs and concepts addressed and expressed these considerations under a far larger concern-umbrella, the designs herein share another key feature, one that is equally if not far more important and relevant given the (now very real and dire) circumstances: the social component.
Social because the modular storage scheme of Arne Vehovar and Urša Vrhunc appears to divide and separate – which it does – but the spaces it demarcates remain open. The partitions don’t reach to the ceiling, they are as symbolic as they are literal or functional; instead sound and air travel freely, and there remains a sense of openness as opposed to containment or isolation. And Martin Bricelj Baraga’s Lumitronome kinetic light installations were originally designed for (large, public) metro stations and are intended for outdoor public spaces – spaces that bring people together; spaces people share and experience, in common.
Primoz Jeza’s Nico Less backpack for Donar envisions an extended sense of mobility away from a closed, fixed working environment toward a more flexible and open arrangement where people meet and work in an array of configurations. And while Kofein Dizajn’s Eli
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app is intended to connect, educate and entertain people with memory and dementia disorders digitally, and thus virtually, the emphasis is on connecting and community, bringing people together into a common fold, and is thus highly inclusive as opposed to exclusive.
Oloop’s Story of Women is the exemplary explicitly social case among the designs here, weaving women’s personal and communal stories and experiences into a handembroidered textile-wall, with the aim of developing a series of bigger and smaller carpets and wall coverings. Floios studio creates jewellery that is meant to be shared with someone dear – shared in the larger sense of turning to our common natural environment for literal, figurative inspiration and passing it on in the form of a precious, enduring object.
Tina Rugelj’s Concrete Garden line of fine outdoor fiber cement furniture is flexible and multifunctional: the Big Lamp can also be used as a tea table or even a chair, accommodating family and friends in an array of social configurations. Similarly, Tomaž Čeligoj’s Everglow Garden Fireplace is an atypical variation on what may be the most social object ever – the fireplace. We’ve been gathering around organised fire forever, and his very contemporary take on this timeless ritual of multidimensional necessity continues, encouragingly, this most fundamental of social practices.
Trajna’s DIY furniture brings together a number of key components, wherein invasive plant species are harvested for local furniture production using plans available online or from an open-source workshop. Not only is the scheme smart, socially inclusive, environmentally friendly and beneficial, the wood even boasts excellent mechanical properties and lovely reddish hues.
The Vulgaris Wine Studiolo is a highly expressive free-standing bar cabinet designed to house your favourite drinks, glasses and accessories, in tasteful style. And a bar cabinet (and its contents) is typically meant
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And anyone with any experience of kids, camping or playtime knows tents are decidedly social. Sure, you can seek privacy taking some solo time out in a tent, but for the most part tents – and the sleeping bag into which Veronika Rožmanc’s Oli children’s tent converts – are all about company and sharing. And as Rožmanc says, Oli isn’t just a tent, Oli’s a member of the family.
It is surely the editor’s rare luxury to observe and comment post-factum, in this case on an exhibition and larger social commentary event, to unearth new or unexploited value and dimensions in the material at hand. For again, as social beings, and perhaps now more than ever, we cannot ignore or discount the power and relevance of the social component – in design and in all we do. How do we want to live? As social beings worthy of all the term implies, indeed demands.
In such a spirit, let us then extend the post-factum luxury to reformulate the exhibition subtitle accordingly: Design for a decidedly pro-social postapocalyptic world.
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