emotional architecture & furniture

Have just worked on a project, needed some furniture and architecture material, next post i will show. A friend of mine lend me this amazing book. What i found beside amazement, was no reference in the book to any photographer inside. As if they would had been taken aiming a documental objective only and no personal perspective or aesthetic were involved. Nervertheless they look alike “Alphaville” Godard movie…

I adore this photographs. Can’t know if they belong to the same person… They are so evocative. So the space. So the objects. So here the little story and pictures i made out of these marvelous book ” Design Classics _ Jacobsen. Félix Solaguren-Beascoa, Lisbet Balslw Jørgensen, Bard Henriksen, Erik Møller.1991 Santa&Cole Ediciones de Diseño SA. Centre d’Estudis de Disseny.




[ HE ]
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[ HIS LETTER: ]
I don’t have much time, hardly twenty minutes before coming back to a meeting. I want to explain, briefly, what i feel on your periphery. Resembles my experience of certain spaces or even certain objects.

I love architecture, though the word sounds restrained. It occurs to me entering into a place a feeling of anticipation, as if the space alluded me as part of a situation, imprecise yet probable. It doesn’t occur everywhere. Most of these spaces are modern, but not the kind of modernity that makes you feel, your body, the movements and sounds concerning to the manifestation of your body, ruins a take for a very chic magazine. You might be smiling reading the word “chic”, well i guess it sounds peculiar in men mouthes.

But let’s get back to our matter. This spaces i am referring at, this objects, quiet for me to be taken. To make with them as i please and drive them away from the inertia of existing for no one.

My time is too little. A public desk, standing as i write this letter. With you i belong to a situation imprecise but yet probable. Want to be exposed to your existence.


[ SHE ]
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[ HER ANSWER TO HIS LETTER: ]

…You write such a nice thing to me “exposed to your existence”. Left me thinking you were a lamp, a Jacobsen’s lamp. Now this might sounds peculiar to you, even a little vulgar the reason of my metaphor, but i let you know. You are that mute lamp i can’t quite figure where the source of light comes from.

It creates an ambiance then i feel “exposed to its existence”

I couldn’t guess where you turn it on or off. I don’t try to. Is a willful parameter. I just wish i’ll be part of that future house ambiance where you approach to tie my shoes one day. Without warning, you and your helicopter full of friends, or even two because there is not place for more. But that you reach, mute and beautiful like that lamp, destiny.


[ THE LAMP ]
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[ THE FUTURE HOUSE ]
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[ THE BOOK ]
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