There's been copious hand-wringing since the pandemic began about how people have adjusted to working from home, how WFH might actually be preferable to returning to the office, and what it all means. We would venture to guess that more people would be willing to return to their offices if they looked like this, a new London interior by Note Design Studio for The Office Group.
Justin Morin’s printed silk installations take many forms — some unfurl dramatically against an expansive gallery wall; others are cinched and pleated like couture; still others are knotted, tied, looped, bunched, gathered, or, simply hang listlessly like a flag. Morin’s specific visual vocabulary, developed over the course of a decade since he created his first printed silk work in 2011, proposes that anything and everything in our information-dense and visually overwrought world can be unraveled and represented in sensual, gradient silk.
We know objectively that the start of the year is generally a time of renewal and a time to birth new projects. But to be honest, this is often the time of year when we feel most low and uninspired, which may be why we often turn to books in our own libraries for energy. I often come back to Interiors in Color, a 1983 book translated from Italian that features interiors by many of that era's best-known players.
What is happening in the candle world? It seems like only a few years ago that everyone got on board again with tapers, which were once relegated only to formal dining rooms and Victorian-era cosplay. Now, not only are tapers available in every color of the rainbow, but you can also find candles in nearly any form you can imagine, from a female torso, to waxed Italian fruit, to ropes, yin-yangs, and Romanesco broccoli — all imbued with a sophistication and color palette that lifts them beyond their mall gift-store origins.
When we first saw these pieces by the Turin-based collective Studio Nucleo, we thought they were miniatures. Between the pastel colors and the blocky Tetris aesthetic, we understood them, at first, to be maquettes, studies for a larger project. But after looking twice, judging them by the details of the garage they were photographed in (and, more recently, seeing the pieces with a human for scale) we realized they were the real deal — called Primitive, the pieces represent the 10th anniversary of a collection originally created in all white and now re-imagined in color for an ongoing exhibition at Nilufar Gallery in Milan.
Whether chairs, macaroni-shaped light fittings, or knotted, tubular standing lamps, Polina Miliou sees her pieces as creatures. “I often start from an archetypal furniture form and gradually twist it into more of a character,” she says. Once she’s sculpted their form, she dresses the pieces in a final smooth layer of papier-mâché. “It is a slow but fun process, during which I literally slap and caress the furniture,” she says. “The time I spend with each piece lets me build a personal relationship with it."
Just when we'd almost begun thinking of him as "the candle guy," his pillars and tapers seemingly having colonized every store in New York, Dutch designer Lex Pott posted a photo on his Instagram late last month of a single eye-catching chair wrapped entirely in hand-woven nylon straps. We did a mini interview with Pott to find out more about the project.
In the world of Pieces, a rug can be inspired by a warm clay tennis court and a showroom can be a place you check into for a weekend away. Variations on the items that make up Collection III, which launched at Offsite Online, were first introduced in their shoppable Airbnb house in Kennebunk, Maine. The trio spent the whole of 2019 renovating the house and filling it with design products for guests to live amongst before purchasing.
When Jill and I posted pictures of our favorite books on Instagram last week, mine featured one of my favorite objects in my living room, shown above: A pot, used by me as a planter, that features two hand-painted, color-blocked pastel faces. I bought it on eBay for $10 a year and a half ago. I don't remember how I found it. I had no idea, at the time, who the maker was, only that her name was Victoria Crowell and I assumed she was an obscure local artisan who made the pot in the '80s. I was mostly correct.
When Gerrit Rietveld designed his famed Red and Blue Chair in 1917, it wasn't red and blue at all, but plain, unstained beech wood. Only six years later, after his De Stijl collaborator Bart van der Leck suggested he add bright colors, did Rietveld create the version that went on to make history. The same is true, in a way, of the Barcelona studio AOO's Chair 8, whose colors were envisioned by painter Claudia Valsells for a recent collaborative exhibition in Spain.