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).

The Tesla is the fruit of my hospitality studio project, where I was asked to program, plan, and develop a five-star themed venue with restaurant, nightclub, and exhibition space, in a major city anywhere in the world but North America. The concept had to be cutting-edge, integrate modern technology throughout, and cause guests to be educated as well as entertained by their visit. And so, given license to do anything I wanted, no matter how wild so long as it was commercially plausible, I decided that I wanted to do something steampunk. I’m a life-long science fiction and fantasy fan, and even more so for alternate history, especially with fantastical elements. Steampunk hits every one of those buttons and then some, because I also love Victorian tools and Art Nouveau, and steampunk covers them too. If I was going to design a club, it was going to be one that I wanted to attend.

What is steampunk?

Steampunk settings begin with the culture and technology of the Victorian era but then ask “what if.” The result is a related yet clearly different history with its own technology, fashion, and culture. Exploration and optimism are in the air, and technology is still a gift, not a curse. Materials and aesthetic sense begin with the Victorian and Art Nouveau: exuberantly detailed objects in materials such as brass, cast iron, wood, leather, and rubber. There must be gears, levers, or other elements iconic of machinery. Here at the Tesla, electrical elements also play a strong role, because its parent company was founded by an alternate universe Nikola Tesla.

Concept and Programming

Example of steampunk look. Credit Dana Mattocks.

The first questions were, one, were there enough steampunks to support this, two, had anyone done this before, and three, where in the world should it be? The answers were,

1. Yes. There are enough in many places to run events and conventions, and their numbers are growing. Most steampunks live in Britain or its former colonies, but there are also groups elsewhere, especially continental Europe. The trend is not yet mainstream and has not peaked.
2. According to Google, only three nightclubs in the world use steampunk as a theme: two in Australia, and the Edison in Los Angeles, the only one decorated to match its theme.
3. Not the UK, not Los Angeles, and not Australia, because there, it would not be cutting-edge. I went looking for steampunk populations that were under-served and in or near a world-class city able to support a five-star venue. That meant continental Europe, especially Paris, Copenhagen, Oslo, Bucharest, and Berlin. Of these, Berlin was recommended by the professor and friends as being the kind of city to welcome subcultures and things out of the ordinary. It is also full of young people and people with the knowledge and skill to make worlds.

I took for granted throughout that the Tesla had to be an immersive experience: steampunk occurs in an alternate universe by definition. So the building is a set, and everyone in it is part of the story. So why — in its own universe — does the Tesla exist? What does it do? Why is it here in our Berlin? And why do they let us in?

In our Victorian era, railway companies ran hotels next to the station. We only see the restaurant and nightclub, but in its home reality, the Tesla is just one part of a bigger complex that includes a hotel and an aetheric transference station — the local equivalent of “Beam me up, Scotty!” invented by their version of the electrical genius Nikola Tesla. The true name of the venue is “Tesla Ätherische Übertragung AG Hauptbahnhof Brandenburg” (Tesla Ætheric Transference Company, Brandenburg Station). It is our universe’s connection point to the TAU aetheric transference network.

Vincent M. Dantes, Esq. Credit Leonardo Molar.

As an interdimensional meeting point, the Tesla is populated by many characters, some original, some from classic science fiction and steampunk stories, such as the Grey Lensman or Phineas Fogg. But the necessary level of illusion would be impossibly costly to sustain using only actors. That is why the Tesla’s tribe, its fandom, are critical to its success. This must be the living breathing outpost of another universe, even though the audience is mingling onstage with the actors and participating in the performance. So ask the fans to help run the show. Hire them as staff, especially as management. Court them as customers with special perks and privileges for playing a character or visiting in costume. Let them know that the Tesla would die without them. Become the heart of their social lives with regards to steampunk: this is where they go to party, to relax, to roleplay, and even where they go to work on their costumes and props for the next big event. Because the Tesla has a well-equipped workshop, just for them.

Read the complete programming report (PDF, 15mb).

See the art and presentation book on Flickr.

Planning

When planning the Tesla, the first rough blocking diagrams taught me that the vertical stacking and circulation would make or break the project. Guest and staff functions needed to be separated, and each had a magnet: their vertical circulation, which I then put at opposite ends of the building. The repeated elements on each level needed to be compact and not get in the way of the remainder of the floor. It took several iterations to find a version that worked. Restrooms were the other worst thing to plan, honestly, since they either had to be located on exterior walls or vertically stacked for the entire building. The size and number of fixtures changed floor by floor, further complicating the problem. Once the circulation and restrooms were placed for each floor, the rest was easy.

I present the progression of the entry floor, which is actually the top floor. Guests reach it by a bank of express elevators from the covered waiting area off the street. The distinct look of the elevators (complete with visible gears and boilers) and the ride up contribute to the unique experience.

Adjacencies

Rough Blocking

Zoning

Final Zoning

More process work is available in the programming report (PDF, 15mb).

Working Drawings

Detail drawing packages are posted for the main guest stairs and the secondary bar, although they do not correspond perfectly to the final dimensions.

The Tesla - Stair Details

Detail drawings for the main guest stairs in the Tesla.

The Tesla - Bar Details

Detail drawings of the secondary bar in the Tesla.

View the specification (PDF).

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.

Read Building, Dwelling, and the Cosmic Order (PDF, 60KB).

Sometimes it’s useful to be a packrat. First semester, I wrote a paper on Bucky and had made a spreadsheet of fully cited quotations for it.  Since I didn’t throw away that research, I had the necessary notes to add the paragraph on Bucky to this paper complete with quotations and citations. This saved me having to think of a new paragraph to add.

One of our professors had us do a poster and invitation for an exhibit of Eileen Gray’s works, and a rug design based on hers. Even though this was the last assignment of our monochrome term, our professor invited us to pick a signature colour for the assignment. Myself, I like red.

I did my typesetting and layout in Indesign CS2, since I wanted some precise effects with colours and overlaps that I couldn’t do by hand. The typeface is Futura. The illustrations of Gray’s pieces are all done by hand, as was the assembly. Oh, the scent of rubber cement in the morning.

The poster’s copy is my own, based on our research in and out of class. I felt the “who when where what why” format was a suitably modern style, and gave me five neat blocks to disperse around the illustrations. On that topic, the two tables were drawn in technical pen, the house and the sofa in charcoal, and the screen in a dark ink wash using frisket for the resist effect. I reused elements from the poster to create the invitation.

I think the rug design is my favourite piece of the group. Most of Gray’s rugs were very modern and abstract in composition, and the colouring was often bold. I tried to mimic those traits without mimicking a particular design, and I think it succeeded.

Invitation to the exhibit

Original rug design based on Gray's style