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.

They All Lived In There

Can someone tell Ringo to move his "ride"?  It's blocking the delivery truck.

Merde

These props are used in water treatment plants in the Ile-de-France region. They are, quite literally, big shit mixers. So, next time you sit down and consider how much you enjoy both the luxuries of modern toilettes and of clean oceans, lakes, rivers, and streams, remember that somewhere, in an anonymous warehouse outside of town, there is a team of highly skilled craftsmen and craftswomen hand moulding precision designed equipment to deal with all that you flush away.

Foam Big, Glass Heavy

For the last few weeks I've been working for UFACTO on an exceptionally large project. So large that it is being built in a workshop about two hours outside of Paris at Poly 2000, a studio that specializes in large, functional fiberglass structures like propellers for the Paris region water treatment facilities, 30+ foot boat hulls, and apparently the odd submarine.

The piece is by Francois Roche, a Paris-based architect, and can best be described as a branchy, apartment-sized, fiberglass asteroid-cave. It is made of polystyrene foam carved mostly by a CNC and by hand in some functionally sensitive zones, wrapped in fiberglass roving and laminated with a special polyester resin that won't dissolve polystyrene foam. It will be painted a glossy white after all the required sanding is done; then it will be shipped in a few containers to Japan where it will stay in sculpture garden. David Toppani carved a slightly smaller one by hand a few years ago for an exibition in France. Quite impressive considering the forms are computer-generated, and quite specific despite the random feel of the form. The above photo is of one of about 17 blocks that fit together to form the final elongated cave which is about the size of a two or three bedroom boxcar apartment with 18 foot ceilings. It will be equipped with a large, flat-screen monitor inside, embedded in a stalactite, and a LED enhanced skylight.


The yellowish color is the filler that gets sprayed over the fiberglass to fill in the fibrous texture before painting. The splotchy green is the fiberglass before the filler is applied. Not very attractive colors at this stage, especially considering the mucousy shape of the thing.   I think the white will improve the overall look of it in the end, but I will probably still think it is not totally my kind of thing. However, I remain thoroughly impressed with the scale and extremity of the design.

Corner Pocket

The top-floor, corner window is what I look out of when I'm in my bathroom, mostly when I'm hanging laundry or spying. If there was a second floor balcony, this would be a thoroughly typical Haussmann style building. Maybe because it sits along Rue D'Avron, a significant eastern entry and exit of the city, they held off on the low-floor balcony. As ridiculous as it feels to write the following phrase, here are a couple quotes about the Haussmann style from Wikipedia,

"Neighbouring buildings had to have their floors at the same height, and the façades' main lines had to be the same. The use of quarry stone was mandatory along these avenues. Paris started to acquire the features of an immense palace."

Also from Wikipedia, these are the basic guidelines for the Haussmann facade, floor by floor,

"-ground floor and basement with thick, usually street-lateral, load-bearing walls;
-second, "noble" floor with one or two balconies;
-third and fourth floors in the same style but with less elaborate stonework around the windows;
-fifth floor with a single, continuous, undecorated balcony
-eaves angled at 45º."

There is a lot to criticize about the Haussmann renovations (disrupting the social order, bowing to the wealthy landowners, etc.), but he and Napoleon III (an elected emperor) managed to disinfect, beautify, and rebuild an entire capital city! I try to imagine the mindset with which one sets out on such a project, and it seems like a combination of insanity, megalomania, social responsibility, trepidation, and fearlessness (both of pissing people off, and of biting off more than you can chew).

(Photo by Molly Tuttle.)

Looking Through

Sneak peak of the Glass Slipper.