For our retail studio, we were given a 4600 sq. ft. leasehold (mall or streetfront as appropriate), and asked to find a cutting-edge international fashion designer and create a boutique for them. This was a special challenge for me, because I have never been interested in fashion because most haute couture is so unwearable on my frame. I looked at designers from Korea and India especially, and settled on Anand Kabra as my designer of choice. The boutique’s design was to reflect the future direction of our designer’s three most prominent design elements. In my programming, I analyzed Kabra’s past work, the characteristics and demographics of my King’s Road site in Chelsea, London UK, and the needs of the store.

See the programming report (PDF 9mb).

The client brief emphasized use of perimeter wall space and mobile fixtures for merchandising. Most of Kabra’s clothes would display best hung on mannequins or hangers, because they emphasize drape. So I planned the boutique as being an open space with stock storage and a wall fixture system complemented by freestanding racks and a large display island.

Early zoning plan of sales floor

Sketch of track-and-cable system

The wall displays were broken up into sections by a track-and-cable system used to suspend panels in overlapping arrangements much like the logo. These panels needed to be easy to rearrange, so that as new seasonal colours and imagery arrived, and the mix of stock shifted, they could be changed quickly by just one or two employees. For small items such as jewelry and scarves, I used plinths and niches, as if this were a gallery or museum, to highlight Kabra’s chosen items for the season.

When developing the concept, our scope included branding. I often use the graphic design of the programming report, logos, and such materials as a way to ease into how the concept should feel. In this case, the logo is abstract but also makes reference to Kabra’s Indian origin and influences through the boteh (paisley) shape. The theme colour is a heavily mixed tertiary that is almost but not quite neutral, used in one of his collections. The typefaces were chosen for feeling personal, modern, and welcoming.

Sample of branding.

Light streaming into Notre Dame du Haut. Photo: Rory Hyde.

Terraform sculpture by Robert Cannon.

Kabra’s primary design elements are line developed into form, colour, and pattern. Kabra changes silhouettes almost every season, but his forms are always feminine (hence the typefaces chosen), and frequently return to the swirling lines of the Nivi-draped sari. I wanted to keep things simple and mostly use straight lines and flat planes, but I could not resist adding some sari-inspired S curves to that. Those few prominent curving elements give the whole plan an organic feel.

For the island, I was inspired by photos of Le Corbusier’s Ronchamps chapel and Robert Cannon’s terraform sculptures. The island was needed to anchor the center of the space, and its mass created a natural divider between the lounge on one side and a set of display niches on the other.

Kabra changes colours and patterns every season, and so my palette for the boutique was a mix of warm and cool neutrals ranging from white marble through olive wood to black leather. I used a great deal of more textured, often rougher materials, to highlight the shiny, silky materials Kabra often uses. The ceilings, for example, were mostly finished in plaster resembling stone, with gentle bumps and creases. This made the shop less vulnerable to becoming outdated. Seasonal colours and motifs can be added through the track-and-cable system and a pair of bulkheads meant as blank canvases. While the project was not fully specified, I emphasized sustainability in the materials I chose, and tried to create a design that would not need to be torn out and replaced in a few years, but could be selectively updated, for less wasted material.

See the Flickr slideshow of the presentation book (opens in new window).

See the work:

• Work-Research binder for the Loft Full of Curves (PDF, 3 mb)
• Final CAD drawings of the loft (AutoCAD 2004 DWG file, 254 kb)
• Client booklet and renderings on Flickr:

The loft full of curves is the result of our Design Project I course. The goal was a from-the-bare-concrete renovation for a Westboro loft apartment. The client was John Spencer, a senior designer at William McDonough + Partners. As a single man in his 40s, he needed space to live, work, and entertain, but wanted to avoid walls. He insisted on at least 30% sustainable materials, enjoyed transparent materials, and hoped for minimal use of colour, and space to display his art collection.

We began by researching the history of the loft and the client’s favourite designers, brainstorming three different possible layouts that satisfied the program, and selected one to develop further. The design development and selection process is recorded in the preliminary work file for the project. To arrive at the final design, I took elements from several of the preliminary designs and added some new ones. Because the mezzanine, stairs, and other elements are curves and spirals, I started calling the project “loft full of curves”.

Mezzanine and main floor plans.

Now that the floorplan was finalized, we selected and specified materials. I wanted the loft to have a timeless, natural feel that was beautiful without relying on opulent materials. I didn’t want it to belong strongly to a specific era or culture, but to be subtly global, to make a reference or two to the Industrial Revolution, and to complement Norval Morrisseau’s Artist and Shaman Between Two Worlds, on loan to the client. To me that meant wooden furniture with simple but not excessively modern lines, and minimal use of metal. Floors are generally red oak or cork, walls covered in rice paper or paint. As many materials as I could find were vintage, reused, recycled, salvaged, low-VOC, and local.¹ Closet doors are shoji doors, since those are translucent, simple, traditional, modern, and global all at once, and they went nicely with the window grids without overwhelming the space.

Vignette of entry and pixellated glass wall above

I did want to use plenty of glass, but not in the typical modern slab. Instead I used sintered glass (like a sheet of crushed and fused jewels) and glass mosaic tile, both recycled. The bathroom is clad inside and out in glass. Inside, it is entirely covered in clear and aqua glass mosaic tile, and all the surfaces curved where they join, so that the bathroom is a single continuous surface except for its chrome, glass, and white porcelain fixtures, and curved glass shower surround. The solid wall comes only to six feet. Above that, translucent aqua sintered glass sheet attached to the exterior side of the wall is both a window and privacy barrier. The view from the outside shows the aqua glass gradually pixellating out into white plaster through a transition of glass mosaic tile, and continuing over the half-wall to the stairs. This art wall is visible from the living and dining space below, and forms part of their palette — a soft but pleasant contrast with the warm woods, unbleached rice paper, and opal glass lights below.

There are also murals by a local artist, Mark Seabrook, in the same style as Artist and Shaman Between Two Worlds, but in cafe-au-lait and cream to co-ordinate without upstaging. The pillar murals are visible from everywhere in the first floor, and another group surrounds the built-in buffet under the serving counter.

Finally, there are the quarter-circle stairs of red oak and black iron. Red oak stringers and balusters, with black iron openwork steps and railings, so as not to block the light streaming in from the window. Black iron is a strong and beautiful material with so much history, recalling both Victorian cogwheels and curlicues, the plenty and ruin industry can give us.

Our final submissions for the project were the final plans and sections, and the client booklet with rendered vignettes, plans, sections, and digital sample boards.

The model was made with plastic transparencies, two gauges of wire, a flexible plumbing connector, and glue. The materials were chosen as much as possible to scale with the real-life materials that would have been used: molded 1/8″ polycarbonate, 1″ and 2″ stainless steel pipe, thin-film solar cells, glue, electrical wire, and likely a battery pack.

The model from underneath, with supporting ribs

Lilivoltaiq would have had an electrical core of some kind to take the power coming in from the solar cells, and send it down the cable anchoring it to shore and the electrical grid. The ribbed underside imitates the structure of the actual lilies, and provides structural strength. The peaks are inspired by the crinkliness of the unfurling leaves, and increase the solar collection surface and the possible angles it can catch sun at.

The promotional poster

To promote the project, we created this poster that diagrams the physical forces that support the structure, and explains its purpose. Chantelle and Maryam built the model while I drew the diagrams and designed the poster. Given how fiddly the model was to build, I think they had the lion’s share of the work on the deliverables.

Fun with Physics

Of course, none of this would be any good if Lilivoltaiq couldn’t float, so before building our model, we researched materials and calculated weight, buoyancy, and load. Since 1/8″ polycarbonate has a tensile yield strength of 8990 psi (versus a load of perhaps 9 psi), we could have eliminated the steel ribbing entirely. We kept it because our professor and we were enchanted with making such heavy material float, and it related Lilivoltaiq to the lilypad. The steel pipe likewise is much stronger than required. ¹

Overview of the model

Now that we knew it wouldn’t crack under the load, the question was whether it would float. Buoyancy is the tendency of water and other fluids to press upwards against objects (partially) immersed in them. In our case, if Lilivoltaiq displaces at least as many kilograms of water as it itself weighs, then it will float.

Lilivoltaiq weighs 553 kg. Happily for us, water is heavy. With only its ribbing submerged, Lilivoltaiq displaces 745 kg of water, and will float like, well, a lilypad. And thanks to its 30cm rim (also borrowed from the original), it can safely support an extra 9773 kg on top of its own weight, and still have 5cm of clearance to avoid swamping.