The “para-” prefix indicates a beyond, and look against, search ask alongside, more about or abnormal state. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign exhibition collects objects that often seem wrong, lack obvious usability, or contain other degrees of uncertainty—carrying with it the assertion that these objects exist for themselves as narrative devices or as critiques of design objectives. Though many could be functional domestic objects, they are shorn and twisted, made to serve a different purpose than what one would expect. This is also one of the rare exhibitions at SFMOMA to feature the work of architects, including R(s)ien, Diller Scofidio + Renfro, SAANA, and Lebbeus Woods.

James Welling, 0496, 2010.

What is a design object and what is its reason for being? Where do these intersections of art, architecture, and design converge? ParaDesign attempts with limited success to answer these questions. By placing these objects in a museum collection, they clearly are contextualized to subsume any use-value into art-historical or market value. What does a work like An Te Liu’s Cloud (2008), a circuitous air-conditioning unit looping through labyrinthine pipes in gleaming plastic like a set-piece out of 2001: A Space Odyssey defying all logic and HVAC principles say about design? How does the intervention of color to change one design object into another in the case of James Welling’s Glass House photos 0469 and 0966 (both 2010) where colored photographic filters reinterpret Phillip Johnson’s Modernist classic. ParaDesign awkwardly interrogates these subjects but ultimately the answers it provides are elusive.

R(s)ien, heshotmedown, 2007.

The exhibition features many experimental architectural case-studies like R(s)ien’s heshotmedown (2007), an anemone-like model with accompanying miniature video screens of 3D flythrough and Nancy Sinatra’s version of Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) playing from a small speaker. Diller+Scofido’s works feature prominently in the exhibition with His/Hers (1993), a series of passive-aggressive bath towels on their racks telling the story of a relationship and their Vice/Virtue (1997) series of blown glassware. Vice/Virtue (1997) contains: a martini glass with a syringe as the stem, a coffee cup with a blown glass pill dispenser, and a tumbler with an ashtray and cigarette holder underneath that vents into the glass itself.

Diller +Scofido, Vice/Virtue, 1997.

These objects convey a humorous commentary on domesticity and addiction. Then there are objects like Alex Schweder La’s Bi-Bardon (2001), a urinal with obvious reference to Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain but cast to appear as if it was in the process of doubling itself in a cellular mitosis. Peter Wenger’s Buildings Made of Sky (2007)—a grid of familiar corridors between skyscrapers in Manhattan is turned upside down creating new skyscrapers in the reversed figure, the gap between the buildings.

Usually it is assumed that an exhibition would be arranged in such a way that the objects’ placements reinforce associations or structures a particular narrative or chronology, but the association between these objects and their arrangement leaves a disappointing feeling of uncertainty. The exhibition spans three rooms: the first, a tightly packed cluster of objects; the second, a row of plexi-glass cases running through center; and the third, a small rectangular hallway containing Tobias Wong’s pieces. Flat work is hung haphazardly throughout the exhibition at varying heights and configurations.

Alex Schweder La, Bi-Bardon, 2001.

Does uncertainty work as an organizing principle? A case can be made for the joy that one experiences with unexpected encounters with works of art or finding new and challenging pieces in a gallery. Here, however, uncertainty is the only unifying principle of the design and organization of the exhibition itself. There is no visible signage available, one must first locate a laminated chart with certain areas highlighted denoting the artworks and then stammer around the gallery, groping for titles. The arrangement of objects in the space also seems irrational or flippant with large areas left empty and other pieces hung so high that they are difficult to look at. Here the question of uncertainty is not so much directed at the objects themselves but by the relative lack of care of the exhibit itself. This was particularly unfortunate in the case of Lebbeus Woods’s architectural drawings-a selection from his Centricity series. The drawings were hung so far up that wall that it was impossible to view them. Tobias Wong’s smug takes on fashion brands were stowed in half of an ancillary hallway and other large photographs were hung at awkward heights. In some attempt to be contemporary or edgy, the arrangement of objects made it more about the design of the room, than the actual works of art. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign collection contains ostensibly interesting design objects but its presentation will leave many patrons frustrated rather than inspired.

Lebbeus Woods, Photon Kite, 1988.

Paradesign is located on the 2nd Floor of SFMOMA until July 24th.

The “para-” prefix indicates a beyond, more about against, order alongside, or abnormal state. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign exhibition collects objects that often seem wrong, lack obvious usability, or contain other degrees of uncertainty—carrying with it the assertion that these objects exist for themselves as narrative devices or as critiques of design objectives. Though many could be functional domestic objects, they are shorn and twisted, made to serve a different purpose than what one would expect. This is also one of the rare exhibitions at SFMOMA to feature the work of architects, including R(s)ien, Diller Scofidio + Renfro, SAANA, and Lebbeus Woods.

James Welling, 0496, 2010.

What is a design object and what is its reason for being? Where do these intersections of art, architecture, and design converge? ParaDesign attempts with limited success to answer these questions. By placing these objects in a museum collection, they clearly are contextualized to subsume any use-value into art-historical or market value. What does a work like An Te Liu’s Cloud (2008), a circuitous air-conditioning unit looping through labyrinthine pipes in gleaming plastic like a set-piece out of 2001: A Space Odyssey defying all logic and HVAC principles say about design? How does the intervention of color to change one design object into another in the case of James Welling’s Glass House photos 0469 and 0966 (both 2010) where colored photographic filters reinterpret Phillip Johnson’s Modernist classic. ParaDesign awkwardly interrogates these subjects but ultimately the answers it provides are elusive.

R(s)ien, heshotmedown, 2007.

The exhibition features many experimental architectural case-studies like R(s)ien’s heshotmedown (2007), an anemone-like model with accompanying miniature video screens of 3D flythrough and Nancy Sinatra’s version of Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) playing from a small speaker. Diller+Scofido’s works feature prominently in the exhibition with His/Hers (1993), a series of passive-aggressive bath towels on their racks telling the story of a relationship and their Vice/Virtue (1997) series of blown glassware. Vice/Virtue (1997) contains: a martini glass with a syringe as the stem, a coffee cup with a blown glass pill dispenser, and a tumbler with an ashtray and cigarette holder underneath that vents into the glass itself.

Diller +Scofido, Vice/Virtue, 1997.

These objects convey a humorous commentary on domesticity and addiction. Then there are objects like Alex Schweder La’s Bi-Bardon (2001), a urinal with obvious reference to Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain but cast to appear as if it was in the process of doubling itself in a cellular mitosis. Peter Wenger’s Buildings Made of Sky (2007)—a grid of familiar corridors between skyscrapers in Manhattan is turned upside down creating new skyscrapers in the reversed figure, the gap between the buildings.

Usually it is assumed that an exhibition would be arranged in such a way that the objects’ placements reinforce associations or structures a particular narrative or chronology, but the association between these objects and their arrangement leaves a disappointing feeling of uncertainty. The exhibition spans three rooms: the first, a tightly packed cluster of objects; the second, a row of plexi-glass cases running through center; and the third, a small rectangular hallway containing Tobias Wong’s pieces. Flat work is hung haphazardly throughout the exhibition at varying heights and configurations.

Alex Schweder La, Bi-Bardon, 2001.

Does uncertainty work as an organizing principle? A case can be made for the joy that one experiences with unexpected encounters with works of art or finding new and challenging pieces in a gallery. Here, however, uncertainty is the only unifying principle of the design and organization of the exhibition itself. There is no visible signage available, one must first locate a laminated chart with certain areas highlighted denoting the artworks and then stammer around the gallery, groping for titles. The arrangement of objects in the space also seems irrational or flippant with large areas left empty and other pieces hung so high that they are difficult to look at. Here the question of uncertainty is not so much directed at the objects themselves but by the relative lack of care of the exhibit itself. This was particularly unfortunate in the case of Lebbeus Woods’s architectural drawings-a selection from his Centricity series. The drawings were hung so far up that wall that it was impossible to view them. Tobias Wong’s smug takes on fashion brands were stowed in half of an ancillary hallway and other large photographs were hung at awkward heights. In some attempt to be contemporary or edgy, the arrangement of objects made it more about the design of the room, than the actual works of art. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign collection contains ostensibly interesting design objects but its presentation will leave many patrons frustrated rather than inspired.

Lebbeus Woods, Photon Kite, 1988.

Paradesign is located on the 2nd Floor of SFMOMA until July 24th.

The “para-” prefix indicates a beyond, see against, alongside, or abnormal state. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign exhibition collects objects that often seem wrong, lack obvious usability, or contain other degrees of uncertainty—carrying with it the assertion that these objects exist for themselves as narrative devices or as critiques of design objectives. Though many could be functional domestic objects, they are shorn and twisted, made to serve a different purpose than what one would expect. This is also one of the rare exhibitions at SFMOMA to feature the work of architects, including R(s)ien, Diller Scofidio + Renfro, SAANA, and Lebbeus Woods.

James Welling, 0496, 2010.

What is a design object and what is its reason for being? Where do these intersections of art, architecture, and design converge? ParaDesign attempts with limited success to answer these questions. By placing these objects in a museum collection, they clearly are contextualized to subsume any use-value into art-historical or market value. What does a work like An Te Liu’s Cloud (2008), a circuitous air-conditioning unit looping through labyrinthine pipes in gleaming plastic like a set-piece out of 2001: A Space Odyssey defying all logic and HVAC principles say about design? How does the intervention of color to change one design object into another in the case of James Welling’s Glass House photos 0469 and 0966 (both 2010) where colored photographic filters reinterpret Phillip Johnson’s Modernist classic. ParaDesign awkwardly interrogates these subjects but ultimately the answers it provides are elusive.

R(s)ien, heshotmedown, 2007.

The exhibition features many experimental architectural case-studies like R(s)ien’s heshotmedown (2007), an anemone-like model with accompanying miniature video screens of 3D flythrough and Nancy Sinatra’s version of Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) playing from a small speaker. Diller+Scofido’s works feature prominently in the exhibition with His/Hers (1993), a series of passive-aggressive bath towels on their racks telling the story of a relationship and their Vice/Virtue (1997) series of blown glassware. Vice/Virtue (1997) contains: a martini glass with a syringe as the stem, a coffee cup with a blown glass pill dispenser, and a tumbler with an ashtray and cigarette holder underneath that vents into the glass itself.

Diller +Scofido, Vice/Virtue, 1997.

These objects convey a humorous commentary on domesticity and addiction. Then there are objects like Alex Schweder La’s Bi-Bardon (2001), a urinal with obvious reference to Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain but cast to appear as if it was in the process of doubling itself in a cellular mitosis. Peter Wenger’s Buildings Made of Sky (2007)—a grid of familiar corridors between skyscrapers in Manhattan is turned upside down creating new skyscrapers in the reversed figure, the gap between the buildings.

Usually it is assumed that an exhibition would be arranged in such a way that the objects’ placements reinforce associations or structures a particular narrative or chronology, but the association between these objects and their arrangement leaves a disappointing feeling of uncertainty. The exhibition spans three rooms: the first, a tightly packed cluster of objects; the second, a row of plexi-glass cases running through center; and the third, a small rectangular hallway containing Tobias Wong’s pieces. Flat work is hung haphazardly throughout the exhibition at varying heights and configurations.

Alex Schweder La, Bi-Bardon, 2001.

Does uncertainty work as an organizing principle? A case can be made for the joy that one experiences with unexpected encounters with works of art or finding new and challenging pieces in a gallery. Here, however, uncertainty is the only unifying principle of the design and organization of the exhibition itself. There is no visible signage available, one must first locate a laminated chart with certain areas highlighted denoting the artworks and then stammer around the gallery, groping for titles. The arrangement of objects in the space also seems irrational or flippant with large areas left empty and other pieces hung so high that they are difficult to look at. Here the question of uncertainty is not so much directed at the objects themselves but by the relative lack of care of the exhibit itself. This was particularly unfortunate in the case of Lebbeus Woods’s architectural drawings-a selection from his Centricity series. The drawings were hung so far up that wall that it was impossible to view them. Tobias Wong’s smug takes on fashion brands were stowed in half of an ancillary hallway and other large photographs were hung at awkward heights. In some attempt to be contemporary or edgy, the arrangement of objects made it more about the design of the room, than the actual works of art. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign collection contains ostensibly interesting design objects but its presentation will leave many patrons frustrated rather than inspired.

Lebbeus Woods, Photon Kite, 1988.

Paradesign is located on the 2nd Floor of SFMOMA until July 24th.

The “para-” prefix indicates a beyond, see against, alongside, or abnormal state. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign exhibition collects objects that often seem wrong, lack obvious usability, or contain other degrees of uncertainty—carrying with it the assertion that these objects exist for themselves as narrative devices or as critiques of design objectives. Though many could be functional domestic objects, they are shorn and twisted, made to serve a different purpose than what one would expect. This is also one of the rare exhibitions at SFMOMA to feature the work of architects, including R(s)ien, Diller Scofidio + Renfro, SAANA, and Lebbeus Woods.

James Welling, 0496, 2010.

What is a design object and what is its reason for being? Where do these intersections of art, architecture, and design converge? ParaDesign attempts with limited success to answer these questions. By placing these objects in a museum collection, they clearly are contextualized to subsume any use-value into art-historical or market value. What does a work like An Te Liu’s Cloud (2008), a circuitous air-conditioning unit looping through labyrinthine pipes in gleaming plastic like a set-piece out of 2001: A Space Odyssey defying all logic and HVAC principles say about design? How does the intervention of color to change one design object into another in the case of James Welling’s Glass House photos 0469 and 0966 (both 2010) where colored photographic filters reinterpret Phillip Johnson’s Modernist classic. ParaDesign awkwardly interrogates these subjects but ultimately the answers it provides are elusive.

R(s)ien, heshotmedown, 2007.

The exhibition features many experimental architectural case-studies like R(s)ien’s heshotmedown (2007), an anemone-like model with accompanying miniature video screens of 3D flythrough and Nancy Sinatra’s version of Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) playing from a small speaker. Diller+Scofido’s works feature prominently in the exhibition with His/Hers (1993), a series of passive-aggressive bath towels on their racks telling the story of a relationship and their Vice/Virtue (1997) series of blown glassware. Vice/Virtue (1997) contains: a martini glass with a syringe as the stem, a coffee cup with a blown glass pill dispenser, and a tumbler with an ashtray and cigarette holder underneath that vents into the glass itself.

Diller +Scofido, Vice/Virtue, 1997.

These objects convey a humorous commentary on domesticity and addiction. Then there are objects like Alex Schweder La’s Bi-Bardon (2001), a urinal with obvious reference to Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain but cast to appear as if it was in the process of doubling itself in a cellular mitosis. Peter Wenger’s Buildings Made of Sky (2007)—a grid of familiar corridors between skyscrapers in Manhattan is turned upside down creating new skyscrapers in the reversed figure, the gap between the buildings.

Usually it is assumed that an exhibition would be arranged in such a way that the objects’ placements reinforce associations or structures a particular narrative or chronology, but the association between these objects and their arrangement leaves a disappointing feeling of uncertainty. The exhibition spans three rooms: the first, a tightly packed cluster of objects; the second, a row of plexi-glass cases running through center; and the third, a small rectangular hallway containing Tobias Wong’s pieces. Flat work is hung haphazardly throughout the exhibition at varying heights and configurations.

Alex Schweder La, Bi-Bardon, 2001.

Does uncertainty work as an organizing principle? A case can be made for the joy that one experiences with unexpected encounters with works of art or finding new and challenging pieces in a gallery. Here, however, uncertainty is the only unifying principle of the design and organization of the exhibition itself. There is no visible signage available, one must first locate a laminated chart with certain areas highlighted denoting the artworks and then stammer around the gallery, groping for titles. The arrangement of objects in the space also seems irrational or flippant with large areas left empty and other pieces hung so high that they are difficult to look at. Here the question of uncertainty is not so much directed at the objects themselves but by the relative lack of care of the exhibit itself. This was particularly unfortunate in the case of Lebbeus Woods’s architectural drawings-a selection from his Centricity series. The drawings were hung so far up that wall that it was impossible to view them. Tobias Wong’s smug takes on fashion brands were stowed in half of an ancillary hallway and other large photographs were hung at awkward heights. In some attempt to be contemporary or edgy, the arrangement of objects made it more about the design of the room, than the actual works of art. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign collection contains ostensibly interesting design objects but its presentation will leave many patrons frustrated rather than inspired.

Lebbeus Woods, Photon Kite, 1988.

Paradesign is located on the 2nd Floor of SFMOMA until July 24th.

Doug Foster recently posted documentation of a large scale installation, The Heretics’ Gate at St. Michaels Cathedral in Camden, London in 2011. The installation was originally created for Lazarides’ Hell’s Half Acre Exhibition in 2010. Inspired by Dante’s Inferno, the video for the piece is comprised of fluid flames, mirrored in its original form and from a reflection pool beneath the large arching projection screen. The screen mirrors the actual shape of St. Michaels Cathedral and replicates the forms of the arches. According to Foster’s website, “The Heretics’ Gate represents Dante’s entry point into the Sixth Circle of Hell, where non-believers burn for eternity in furnace-like tombs.” From what we can tell the final effect is simultaneously eerie and soothing, doing its best to create a portal into another realm or world. The score is by UNKLE. see more by Doug Foster


The “para-” prefix indicates a beyond, see against, alongside, or abnormal state. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign exhibition collects objects that often seem wrong, lack obvious usability, or contain other degrees of uncertainty—carrying with it the assertion that these objects exist for themselves as narrative devices or as critiques of design objectives. Though many could be functional domestic objects, they are shorn and twisted, made to serve a different purpose than what one would expect. This is also one of the rare exhibitions at SFMOMA to feature the work of architects, including R(s)ien, Diller Scofidio + Renfro, SAANA, and Lebbeus Woods.

James Welling, 0496, 2010.

What is a design object and what is its reason for being? Where do these intersections of art, architecture, and design converge? ParaDesign attempts with limited success to answer these questions. By placing these objects in a museum collection, they clearly are contextualized to subsume any use-value into art-historical or market value. What does a work like An Te Liu’s Cloud (2008), a circuitous air-conditioning unit looping through labyrinthine pipes in gleaming plastic like a set-piece out of 2001: A Space Odyssey defying all logic and HVAC principles say about design? How does the intervention of color to change one design object into another in the case of James Welling’s Glass House photos 0469 and 0966 (both 2010) where colored photographic filters reinterpret Phillip Johnson’s Modernist classic. ParaDesign awkwardly interrogates these subjects but ultimately the answers it provides are elusive.

R(s)ien, heshotmedown, 2007.

The exhibition features many experimental architectural case-studies like R(s)ien’s heshotmedown (2007), an anemone-like model with accompanying miniature video screens of 3D flythrough and Nancy Sinatra’s version of Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) playing from a small speaker. Diller+Scofido’s works feature prominently in the exhibition with His/Hers (1993), a series of passive-aggressive bath towels on their racks telling the story of a relationship and their Vice/Virtue (1997) series of blown glassware. Vice/Virtue (1997) contains: a martini glass with a syringe as the stem, a coffee cup with a blown glass pill dispenser, and a tumbler with an ashtray and cigarette holder underneath that vents into the glass itself.

Diller +Scofido, Vice/Virtue, 1997.

These objects convey a humorous commentary on domesticity and addiction. Then there are objects like Alex Schweder La’s Bi-Bardon (2001), a urinal with obvious reference to Marcel Duchamp’s Fountain but cast to appear as if it was in the process of doubling itself in a cellular mitosis. Peter Wenger’s Buildings Made of Sky (2007)—a grid of familiar corridors between skyscrapers in Manhattan is turned upside down creating new skyscrapers in the reversed figure, the gap between the buildings.

Usually it is assumed that an exhibition would be arranged in such a way that the objects’ placements reinforce associations or structures a particular narrative or chronology, but the association between these objects and their arrangement leaves a disappointing feeling of uncertainty. The exhibition spans three rooms: the first, a tightly packed cluster of objects; the second, a row of plexi-glass cases running through center; and the third, a small rectangular hallway containing Tobias Wong’s pieces. Flat work is hung haphazardly throughout the exhibition at varying heights and configurations.

Alex Schweder La, Bi-Bardon, 2001.

Does uncertainty work as an organizing principle? A case can be made for the joy that one experiences with unexpected encounters with works of art or finding new and challenging pieces in a gallery. Here, however, uncertainty is the only unifying principle of the design and organization of the exhibition itself. There is no visible signage available, one must first locate a laminated chart with certain areas highlighted denoting the artworks and then stammer around the gallery, groping for titles. The arrangement of objects in the space also seems irrational or flippant with large areas left empty and other pieces hung so high that they are difficult to look at. Here the question of uncertainty is not so much directed at the objects themselves but by the relative lack of care of the exhibit itself. This was particularly unfortunate in the case of Lebbeus Woods’s architectural drawings-a selection from his Centricity series. The drawings were hung so far up that wall that it was impossible to view them. Tobias Wong’s smug takes on fashion brands were stowed in half of an ancillary hallway and other large photographs were hung at awkward heights. In some attempt to be contemporary or edgy, the arrangement of objects made it more about the design of the room, than the actual works of art. SFMOMA’s ParaDesign collection contains ostensibly interesting design objects but its presentation will leave many patrons frustrated rather than inspired.

Lebbeus Woods, Photon Kite, 1988.

Paradesign is located on the 2nd Floor of SFMOMA until July 24th.

Doug Foster recently posted documentation of a large scale installation, The Heretics’ Gate at St. Michaels Cathedral in Camden, London in 2011. The installation was originally created for Lazarides’ Hell’s Half Acre Exhibition in 2010. Inspired by Dante’s Inferno, the video for the piece is comprised of fluid flames, mirrored in its original form and from a reflection pool beneath the large arching projection screen. The screen mirrors the actual shape of St. Michaels Cathedral and replicates the forms of the arches. According to Foster’s website, “The Heretics’ Gate represents Dante’s entry point into the Sixth Circle of Hell, where non-believers burn for eternity in furnace-like tombs.” From what we can tell the final effect is simultaneously eerie and soothing, doing its best to create a portal into another realm or world. The score is by UNKLE. see more by Doug Foster


Doug Foster recently posted documentation of a large scale installation, cialis The Heretics’ Gate at St. Michaels Cathedral in Camden, London in 2011. The installation was originally created for Lazarides’ Hell’s Half Acre Exhibition in 2010. Inspired by Dante’s Inferno, the video for the piece is comprised of fluid flames, mirrored in its original form and from a reflection pool beneath the large arching projection screen. The screen mirrors the actual shape of St. Michaels Cathedral and replicates the forms of the arches. According to Foster’s website, “The Heretics’ Gate represents Dante’s entry point into the Sixth Circle of Hell, where non-believers burn for eternity in furnace-like tombs.” From what we can tell the final effect is simultaneously eerie and soothing, doing its best to create a portal into another realm or world. The score is by UNKLE. see more by Doug Foster


pill In statu nascendi, 2011″ width=”550″ height=”309″ class=”size-full wp-image-321″ />

Imagine a surreal realm that is in the process of creating itself as you watch it. Viewers encounter a chaotic void, a world hewn in partially rendered grey pixels; a somber computer voice repeats: Dark Cyan, Dark Grey, Dark Red. Religious statues appear and melt, a horse is wrapped in flowing cloth, and other elements pulse menacingly. There are architectural ruins or fragments of sculpture; rocks and patio furniture falling from the sky.

This short digital animation utilizes a series of computer-created 3-D models presented in half-rendered states. In statu nascendi is a short tale of mystery, combining 3-D rendered architectural elements and sculptural objects. The images are accompanied by a chilling soundtrack, created by Adam Witkowski who utilizes a sound program to convert the images directly into their aural equivalents. The resulting animation in its exposed and incomplete completeness is an eerie and slightly unnerving experience.

Work commissioned by The Baltic Cultural Centre as a part of exhibition “Art is generally suspicious”.

See more of Kijek/Adamski’s excellent animation work at kijekadamski.blogspot.com

frame from Kijek / Adamski, In statu nascendi, 2011

frame from Kijek / Adamski, In statu nascendi, 2011