Upon closer inspection, a set of perfectly white furniture reveals imperfections suggesting it was made by hand. Representing a break from the rigid look of catalogue products, this absence of industrial monotony makes a charming impression, the defects feeling familiar and intimate. But let us not be deceived: this is still public space, so no forgotten panties under the sofa.
It is hard to say if someone has put this furniture here to invite guests or just to settle down. In order to gentle an unknown space, one needs to inhabit it, to fit oneself into it, to try it on like a piece of clothing. The freehand introduction of orderly, geometric sofas and their personalization through a discreet sabotage of the dimensions is meant to mitigate a weary sense of deviation from standard bodily proportions. This is an approach to architecture comparable with tailor-making a shirt.
It is not clear, however, whether one should just crouch on the edge modestly or perhaps stretch out as if one were at home? The white-annexed space imitates a luxury lobby. Cheap velour pretends to be a fine fabric in order to maintain an illusion of something exclusive, meant for the select few only.
A “Do Not Sit” sign, befitting a furniture store, would protect the bright fabrics from wear and the soft upholstery from sagging. But it is not customary to put such signs on art works. A gallery remains a gallery. What we are viewing are realistic sculptures of furniture.
Upon closer inspection, a set of perfectly white furniture reveals imperfections suggesting it was made by hand. Representing a break from the rigid look of catalogue products, this absence of industrial monotony makes a charming impression, the defects feeling familiar and intimate. But let us not be deceived: this is still public space, so no forgotten panties under the sofa.
It is hard to say if someone has put this furniture here to invite guests or just to settle down. In order to gentle an unknown space, one needs to inhabit it, to fit oneself into it, to try it on like a piece of clothing. The freehand introduction of orderly, geometric sofas and their personalization through a discreet sabotage of the dimensions is meant to mitigate a weary sense of deviation from standard bodily proportions. This is an approach to architecture comparable with tailor-making a shirt.
It is not clear, however, whether one should just crouch on the edge modestly or perhaps stretch out as if one were at home? The white-annexed space imitates a luxury lobby. Cheap velour pretends to be a fine fabric in order to maintain an illusion of something exclusive, meant for the select few only.
A “Do Not Sit” sign, befitting a furniture store, would protect the bright fabrics from wear and the soft upholstery from sagging. But it is not customary to put such signs on art works. A gallery remains a gallery. What we are viewing are realistic sculptures of furniture.