Advanced Leisure

I titled this post "Getting Some Art" instead of Collecting Art because it does not deal with the kind of serious art collecting associated with Sotheby's and Swiss vaults. Instead, I am hoping to share a few thoughts about collecting a range of art to aesthetically enhance your environment. Specifically, I am interested in discussing art as an emotional investment, as opposed to a speculative investment made in hopes of financial profit.  I have never really thought about what my art might be worth in terms of dollars. I would be very happy if my "art collection" were worth approximately what I spent. I would not, however, be very upset to hear that it was worth next to nothing. Why not? This would have very little to do with my emotional connection to the works. Further, I intend to hold these works forever or else pass them onto family members. I do not prize my art for its monetary value but each piece's enduring ability to communicate important things t

How often do you think about the quality of your lighting? It can make a big difference in the quality of your environment. Lighting is mostly noticed when it is unwanted. There is little consideration given to the degree of quality in one's light source. As with most things, our attention is given to the liminal states.  Direct vs. Indirect Direct lighting proceeds directly from the source (bulb) to a surface without diffusion or reflection. Indirect lighting is diffusely reflected. As illustrated below. The design of the pendant lamp below combines direct  a nd  indirect lighting. Light is projected directly downwards and reflected off the inner walls expanding the light's circumference of reach. The surface will be brightest directly below the lamp and further out it will soften.  This kind of design can be useful. It might be great for a desk lamp, but in general, I prefer more diffusive light. Diffusion is accomplished through an opaque filter, like

What is a chair? Two connotations spring to mind: 1) to preside over, as in a committee; 2) that which resides under the bottom and supports the back; a seat. A chair is an office held by a person or, alternatively, a device that supports a person in an office. Every chairman needs a chair but not every chair needs a chairman. As a piece of furniture, a chair is meant for a single person, as opposed to, say, a love seat, which is a type of sofa. In my opinion, a chair must have a back; otherwise, it is a stool. I would also say that one’s feet should be able to rest on the ground (e.g. not a bar stool even if it has a back). Then again, designers such as Ron Arad challenge all preconceptions...

I don't believe in a Platonic chair; a single stool upon which one might perch perfectly. I own a book called 1,000 Chairs  which I peruse for fun from time to time. Given that I really don't even have room for any more chairs, why would I still look? There's something that I find especially aesthetically appealing about chairs, well-made ones, I mean. It has something to do with elegant restraint. Consider that a lamp, for instance, can allow for countless permutations of form and material, so long as there is still room for light to escape. A chair, by contrast, is much more limited. A chair is the haiku of furniture. The parts of the chair that touch the body must support a good amount of weight, and in a manner that does not put too much stress on any given point. At the same time, it must support a wide variety of human bodies across a sizable range of positions that we generally consider "sitting." Thus, many considerations constrain the design process.