A few more. I have been toying with the possibility of providing some similar instructions on the new drawing instruments, but not quite sure how to pitch them. I suspect matter-of-fact but non prescriptive advice would work best. We will see.
The surfaces of civil and military aircraft are covered with written instructions. These prescribe how well-trained people should work on and operate the thing. was wondering how one might employ similar tactics in architecture, not to prescribe how to occupy architecture but to bring habitual occupation into question. The detail examples here are from an American Navy F4 at Duxford and the full aeroplane shown (mothballed) at AMARC in Tucson. I have a few more miscellaneous examples that I will post another day.
I just received a copy of Design Ecologies (Volume 2 No.1) edited by Shaun Murray. The title of the issue is The Ill Defined Niche. It has chapters by Shaun Murray, Camila Sotomayor, Tim Matts and Aiden Tynan and one by me called Drawing Uncertainty that covers some of the instruments and the Bird Automata Test Track. If you are interested you can order a copy here.
This book arrived today (thanks Christina), a collection of images and discussions of the body published for the Austrian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale this year. It has a wonderful selection of images (and a couple of my early body drawings) and is beautifully produced. As you will see more clearly from the lower image, the book has a thermo-sensitive cover.
I have been sharing my attic studio with these characters recently. The house has been on the market in anticipation of a return to the UK in January and they have been moved to my studio so as not to scare off potential buyers. It seems the people who bought the house liked them anyway. They normally hang out in the living room (with a few others), as seen below (also with the author).
Medical models appear so much more critical than their architectural equivalent. The section lines are content driven and understand the general symmetry of the body, so they tease your imagination to carry what exists at one layer on one side over to that other, where greater depths are then revealed. I purchased my first one (that I keep at work) when I moved to Copenhagen. In London I would borrow one from the anatomical lab at UCH, who were very helpful as I was teaching at the Bartlett, also part of UCL. In Copenhagen the Academy had no affiliations with medical schools, so I would borrow the Academy’s van and drive all my equipment to the alcohol dependency unit of a nearby hospital who were happy for me to work with it there but not to borrow it. As there were so many knowing looks by people seeing the school of architecture van outside the alcohol dependency clinic, and also the inconvenience of having to move all my lights and large format camera, I bought my own figure. I have not done any body drawings for a while, pertly due to the demise of Polaroid film which I used to use to make transfers, but with some distance it would be good to rethink the project some time, with one of the other figures.
Part of the yardstick collection. It started with a need for one (for a project) and, as these things do, it got a little out of hand. Almost all of them are from Winnipeg, mostly advertising for lumber yards, piston ring suppliers (these normally have numbered holes in them, I believe to put the engine valves in), fabric suppliers and some quite specialised bed spring measures. The oil company ones tend to be square in section.