Dunne & Raby / Michael Anastassiades
Design can only follow our needs and desires, it can't create them. If our desires remain unimaginative and practical, then that is what design will be. In this project we are hoping for a time when we will have more complex and subtle everyday needs than we do today. These objects are designed in anticipation of that time. Patiently waiting. Maybe they are utopian.
1. The Statistical Clock checks the BBC website for technologically mediated fatalities: car, train, plane, etc, and pulls them into a database. Each technology has its own channel. The clock checks it every minute or so, and each time it finds a new one it speaks it out loud... 1, 2, 3, etc.
2. S.O.C.D (Sexual Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) is for people who enjoy porn but feel a bit guilty watching it, or think that it's wrong. You put a DVD into the black box and hold onto the rubber part of the object which is shiny and soft, a bit like a dildo. The metal bands sense your level of arousal and pixelate the image accordingly in real time. The more aroused you become, the bigger the pixel size, and the more distorted the sound gets. If you let go the film goes blank. To enjoy your video, you need to hold on but try to de-arouse yourself.
3. The Risk Watch speaks a number when you place it to your ear, the rubber nipple deflects and activates a specially built device inside. The number corresponds to the political stability of the country you are in at that time.
4. Alignment: A small pressure gauge indicates that it is operational. It could go off at any moment. When the planets are in the appropriate configuration, the airbag is filled. An explosion of pinkness. It takes seconds, like an airbag in a car crash. Voluminous. Fantastic. A triclinic crystal: a form without 90 degree angles. Perhaps no one sees it, only the aftermath. A landscape of shocking florescent pink rip-stop fabric in sharp fractal forms, strewn across the living room floor. When the owner returns home, they decide what it means and what to do. It's a sign. It could be about love, money, or career.
Electronics: Chris Hand, Erik Kearney
Software: David Muth
Pneumatics/inflatables: Nick Williamson
Pattern design/cutting: David England
Seamstress: Anja Huttunen
Computer Modelling: Graeme Findlay
Model making: Berry Place
Specialist Carpentry: Ben Legg
Photography: Francis Ware
Thanks to: Alice Wang, Gunnar Green
Partly funded by the Arts Council England
Design can only follow our needs and desires, it can't create them. If our desires remain unimaginative and practical, then that is what design will be. In this project we are hoping for a time when we will have more complex and subtle everyday needs than we do today. These objects are designed in anticipation of that time. Patiently waiting. Maybe they are utopian.
1. The Statistical Clock checks the BBC website for technologically mediated fatalities: car, train, plane, etc, and pulls them into a database. Each technology has its own channel. The clock checks it every minute or so, and each time it finds a new one it speaks it out loud... 1, 2, 3, etc.
2. S.O.C.D (Sexual Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) is for people who enjoy porn but feel a bit guilty watching it, or think that it's wrong. You put a DVD into the black box and hold onto the rubber part of the object which is shiny and soft, a bit like a dildo. The metal bands sense your level of arousal and pixelate the image accordingly in real time. The more aroused you become, the bigger the pixel size, and the more distorted the sound gets. If you let go the film goes blank. To enjoy your video, you need to hold on but try to de-arouse yourself.
3. The Risk Watch speaks a number when you place it to your ear, the rubber nipple deflects and activates a specially built device inside. The number corresponds to the political stability of the country you are in at that time.
4. Alignment: A small pressure gauge indicates that it is operational. It could go off at any moment. When the planets are in the appropriate configuration, the airbag is filled. An explosion of pinkness. It takes seconds, like an airbag in a car crash. Voluminous. Fantastic. A triclinic crystal: a form without 90 degree angles. Perhaps no one sees it, only the aftermath. A landscape of shocking florescent pink rip-stop fabric in sharp fractal forms, strewn across the living room floor. When the owner returns home, they decide what it means and what to do. It's a sign. It could be about love, money, or career.
Electronics: Chris Hand, Erik Kearney
Software: David Muth
Pneumatics/inflatables: Nick Williamson
Pattern design/cutting: David England
Seamstress: Anja Huttunen
Computer Modelling: Graeme Findlay
Model making: Berry Place
Specialist Carpentry: Ben Legg
Photography: Francis Ware
Thanks to: Alice Wang, Gunnar Green
Partly funded by the Arts Council England