Glass Slipper Meets The Public

Here are some belated images from the opening in London where the Glass Slipper first met the public, and is still residing.  Brent, the fantastic curator of the Philips De Pury design program, told me that there were over 700 people at the opening for Projectory, which is excellent news.

 

Brent Dzekciorius, curator, making sure all's in order before the doors open

The diagram means: "look inside the white box and see the glowing crystal"

NOT "deposit fried eggs here"

In good company: Tauba Auerbach's Two Decks of Cards to the left...

...and Best Made Co. axes to the right.

This guy never took his scarf off, which made more sense when I learned that keeping your scarf on at openings is a contractual necessity of being part of the Association of Perennially-Tan European Art Collectors.

I Am There Now

I did an interview on a nice blog called You Have Been Here Sometime.  The questions are good, and I'm happy to be there among the nice interiors and objects. Check it out...

 

Be sure to look at some older posts on this blog.  There is a whole slough of inspiring material there.

http://youhavebeenheresometime.blogspot.com/

Relevant News

Two things, both related: one, I made a website for my design projects; two, I have a piece in a great group show opening next Monday, September 20th at the Phillips de Pury design space at Saatchi Gallery in London.  I honestly feel very lucky to show among such great designers.  You can see which ones below in the official invite, which, I should add, is not exclusive.  If you are in London, please come check it out.  If you want to see something wonderful, watch Max Lamb make a stool on the beach here.

The piece I have in the show is called the Glass Slipper.  It is a clear, transparent, light-up skateboard shaped from a single piece of polycarbonate.  It is a midsize board with many influences.  The outline is based on the Stubbie surfboards designed by George Greenough and currently made by Bob Duncan in Santa Barbara, Ca.  However, the Glass Slipper's outline has no curves but rather a polygonal shape.  The entire edge is chamfered and polished to cater to the light shining from within from LEDs in light-up risers, recessed into the deck.  Polycarbonate is super tough and pretty flexible.  The Glass Slipper is a flex deck, but not a longboard, or a tiny seventies-style fiberglass board.  The feel is fluid,  bouncy, and new. 

I'm very happy to feature Solitary Arts hardware, especially the Moonlights light-up risers.  Many thanks to Yong-ki and Geoff (the Glass Slipper's first test audience) for all the support and for making such fine gear. 

Here are some photos, the invite to the show (I'm listed as Adrian Meier-Dentzel), and the "official" blurb about the Glass Slipper:

 

Big round of applause please for Brent Dzekciorius, a curator cut from the finest curatorial cloth.  I installed my piece recently, and was very impressed with the depth of knowledge and appreciation Brent has for all the designers and their pieces in the group.  The guy cares.

 

 

 

"Glass Slipper"

skateboard, 2010
Adrian Rubi-Dentzel
polycarbonate, LEDs, metal, pulyurethane

The product of nostalgic futurism and California lore, the Glass Slipper is a crystal clear, glowing skateboard.  During the day, watch the prism-flecked sidewalk pass under you.  At night, glide down the street on an illuminated crystal slab.

Each Glass Slipper is hand-shaped out of a single piece of clear polycarbonate by Adrian Rubi-Dentzel at UFACTO in Paris, France, and features Moonlights light-up risers, Black Eggs wheels, and Steely Shieldless bearings, all by Solitary Arts, and "22" trucks by Ace.

On show and available at Phillips de Pury at Saatchi Gallery in London.

Thumb Buddy

Back in the 50's and 60's, Fender basses had a whole slough of accoutrements that somehow fell by the wayside and do not appear on basses made in the last 20 years or so.  One of those things is a thumb rest. These days, most people just use the side of the pickup or don't use anything.  The problem with that is, if you want to hit the string in the sweet spot just below of the end of the neck, there's nothing there for your li'l thumb to perch on.  So today, I finally got around to making a little thumb perch for my admittedly not-super-old Jazz Bass.  I used a piece of Iroko left over from some bedstands (still need to post those) and some nice looking brass screws.  I'm not thoroughly educated on Iroko, but I do know that it is tropical, has nicely pronounced grain, and smells kind of like clove cigarettes when you cut it.

Weird Things

When I go to Marfa, Texas, I make weird things.  I show up at my little adobe house, unload my tools, and dive into my lumber collection.  I have brought to Marfa old redwood panels from my wife's childhood home, doors, windows, plywood, 2x4s, etc. from California.  Now I have a nice little clutch of materials to choose from when I need to make a weird thing.  What is a weird thing?  A weird thing is a piece of furniture that addresses a specific need in the house, made of lumber I have on site, and built in under an hour using nothing more than a skilsaw and an electric drill/driver. (There may or may not have been a router, planer, or sander used on some of them, but mostly its the drill and saw).  It is all certifiable Chop 'N' Screw Domestic Solutions.  Weird Things:

 

 Extra weird thing.  So weird Danielle had to paint it white to tone it down a little.  That horse head is an unfinished half scale carousel animal.  I come from a long line of carousel builders; my great great grand uncle brought the first carousel to the USA (more here).   Sometimes I have to save things from the burn pile at my grandma's house, like wooden horse heads.  Weird.

My First Sony

This is the first custom piece I did in Paris.  It is a wall mounted box closet for Imelda and Francesca, two wonderful people.  When I made this, I tested and proved to myself that in small apartments, big furniture feels significantly less imposing if you lift it off the ground.  I have since mounted a few more things to the walls of Parisian apartments (coming soon to this blog).  This room also houses a couple pieces by Nathaniel Russell.  Good company, all around.

Light Green Leaves

Life triumphs over long distance travel!

I brought a couple of sprouted acorns back to France (smuggled in my toiletries bag) from my mother's backyard in Santa Barbara, Ca.  I think they're Valley Oaks, but I'll have to double check (I know the tree from which they fell, and as the saying goes, it was not far). The original leaves withered as the trauma set in. Then, after some time in the sun in some fresh, moist soil and many encouraging words, a pair of soft, fresh, spiny leaves unfurled.

Bou!

There is a new show up at Galerie Kreo in Paris showing new works by Ronan and Erwan Bouroullec.  I did a lot of work at UFACTO on prototyping and fabricating the wall mounted lamps and the shelves.  They are both made of molded fiberglass with immense attention paid to the finishes: the lamps are a glossy piano black; the shelves are a grainy, felty, matt charcoal grey.  If you are in Paris go by the gallery and check it out.  I'm very proud to have had a hand in this show.  Not only is Erwan a friend, he is, alongside his brother, one of the most creative and tasteful designers working today.  More here, and here.

Parabolic Pink

I made a couple of these lamps last week at UFACTO.  Named "Parabola" and designed by Pierre Charpin, these pieces are made at UFACTO for Galerie Kreo.  Kreo represents a smattering of high-level designers, mostly from France, and produces pieces that would usually be impossible to fabricate in a large-volume, industrial manner.  This means that the pieces designed for Kreo are usually both quite large (the Parabola stands about 7.5 feet tall, and requires at least that much free wall space to hang) and quite expensive (six digits, in Euros).  Kreo consistently has these pieces, especially the molded fiberglass ones, made at UFACTO.  Each piece is produced in an edition of 12, and sometimes just 1.

The bell is made of two separate fiberglass shells, glued together at the outer edge and at the center.  Quite flexible when separate, the bell stiffens up considerably when both pieces are fixed to each other.  

You might not be able to tell from the image of the finished lamp, but the bell and the stand are not attached.  Rather, the bell, or shade, is fixed to the wall and the bulb stand is stationed in front of it.   Fun fact: the shade of pink was chosen by Charpin to match a faded t-shirt he was wearing while going over the fabrication with David Toppani (master craftsman of UFACTO).  The rosy reflected light is beautiful in person.

Half Pint

I was over at a friend's house the other night for dinner and ended up installing some curtains.  To do the job, I was presented with this charming little chickadee.  I want one.