UP and Qatar

We launched UP - a model that aims to increase the value of dead stock through redesign – with collaborating companies Makro, van Gansewinkel, Vlisco and Mediq in 2011. While we are further developing the business model with our partners, we are also presenting the UP concept in other places in the world, exhibiting the first product results together with lectures and workshops.

Home game

The first destination was Helsinki during the World Design Capital celebrations last May. For UP, it was a home game. The whole city is imbued with concern for the environment, and stores already offer products based on the redesign of leftovers. The message was easy to convey with connections everywhere.

Qatar

The second stop, Doha in Qatar, was a totally different experience. The gap could not be bigger. In Qatar and other Gulf states we meet societies of abundant consumption, of never-ending building activity, with houses due for demolition when they are still brand new and where waste management does not exist. The sky here is the limit.

Presenting UP in Qatar was a real challenge. Advocating the redesign of dead stock and showing how one can upgrade seemingly valueless items, like cheap trays and cutting boards, in this environment of opulent luxury could have been like crying in the wilderness. But to my surprise it worked out very well. When I briefed the students at VCU university — many of which, as I was told, had grown up in context where money does not count — they became immediately enthusiastic. Rather than out of a concern for the environment, it seemed the decisive factor in sparking interest was that they could play with a bunch of products. They didn’t have to start from scratch. They were not asked to make drawings or renderings but to touch the raw materials (trays, medical utensils, cutting boards, cups and saucers) and let their fantasies go wild. They immediately were challenged by it and seemed triggered by these simple, low-style products.

After my lecture, which was very well attended, many people expressed how happy they were with the idea of UP, particularly because of the general mentality in Qatar. Leftovers will be difficult to find in this place because everything is destroyed immediately, but at least there were a few suggestions for things that could be saved, like banners, flags and water bottles. I’m not under the illusion that UP will make a big change in Qatar, but is has brought awareness to a young generation, awareness of what one could do with waste, even with the most simple, seemingly invaluable things. I am looking forward to the results of this workshop, and the next stop that UP will take us.

VCUQatar Gallery presents The UP Factory by Droog
October 15th - November 15th, 2012
Virginia Commonwealth University
Doha, Qatar
More info.

More info about UP.

Image: Shoes by Studio Droog, 2011
Material: carpet (supplied by 2012Architecten/InterfaceFlor), leather laces


Why Material Matters

Interview with Renny Ramakers
by Agata Jaworska

This year in Milan, Droog presents Material Matters, a future furniture fair. The presentation speculates the impact of a shift in policy from taxing income to taxing raw materials and waste, and its impact on the design industry. The future fair features 20 design companies—both real and imagined—that might come to thrive given the change in policy.

How did this idea come about?

I read an article in the newspaper. Economists, ecologists, political scientists and other scientists were envisioning an alternative economic model in which sustainability is built into the system. One of the things they imagined was that income tax was replaced with tax on raw materials and waste, giving a few examples of what might happen—like no more packaging , new businesses based on recycling, repairing and leasing…

That inspired me. I thought it could also inspire designers and the design industry. Designers are trained to design products. Every year designers and design companies go to Milan, and every year, we see so many new products. Milan is full of new for the sake of new.

When I read the article, I realized some designers are already working in a way that fits into the scenario. Dirk Vander Kooij reprograms abandoned machines into 3D printers that make products using material made of old fridges. Markus Kayser prints products in the desert using the sand as the raw material and the sun as the energy source. Studio Swine proposes fishing plastic debris from the sea, turning it into products on a converted boat factory.

I imagined an alternative fair full of these kind of initiatives. We brought together existing initiatives and invented new ones. The imaginary fair presents some 20 design companies based on the premise that raw materials are taxed and therefore they become very expensive. One invented company, Gallery™ sells what used to be ordinary goods as collectibles. Another, Optical World™ sells illusions. Sometimes we really need a chair to sit on, but sometimes it’s the image that we’re after.

Currently quite a few companies are dealing with environmental issues. What’s the difference with Material Matters?

Environmentally friendly design is still mostly about designing products which harm the environment as little as possible, by using sound resources and by designing products that can be easily taken apart. Material Matters is more narrow because it is only dealing with material scarcity, but at the same time it is broader because it suggests completely different responses. An option could indeed be upcycling, recycling or waste management. But I am looking for more ways to tackle the issue. Maybe renting things is better than a chair that you can recycle. Or if a product lasts your whole life then maybe recyclability is not the most important thing. It is important to broaden the scope.

Essentially the Fair presents business models. Could you see it as a collection of ideas that others could appropriate?

You can think about what impact this scenario would have on companies like IKEA. Its unique selling point is that the products are very affordable, but once materials become expensive, what would their selling point become? They could—just like we do with UP™— upgrade IKEA’s dead stock or offer second hand IKEA furniture. People could return used products, IKEA could redesign them, and people could buy redesigned IKEA stuff.

You could also think of developing new materials from alternative resources, like Suzanne Lee does with BioCouture™, creating fashion with bacteria. Another direction could be designing services instead of products, like teaching people how to furnish their house without buying new products. That’s what Waste Watchers™ does.

Play Shop™, a game that satisfies your need for shopping without buying anything, is an extreme example. How do you see the role of the designer with something like Play Shop™?

A designer could have designed the game. It’s not like design will ever stop turning out products, but designers should stop thinking that every need should be satisfied with a product. Sometimes something else might do.

You bring together reality and fiction in an interesting way, almost not making a distinction between the two. How do you see this?

The ambiguity between the real and the fake creates cohesion. Each company is almost like a one-liner, presented in a tongue-in-cheek way. It’s really about the diversity of possible responses, on the level of the business model and not the details. It doesn’t matter if they are real or fictional.

How do you see the design profession changing?

When Gijs Bakker and I created Droog, we noticed new directions in product design, bundled them and gave them a name. Now, almost 20 years later, you can see that there are quite a number of new directions that designers are going into, less related to product design. Product designers are finding new ways to create a business. Processes are becoming important.

When you look at the profession from the specific angle of material scarcity, you get a very diverse landscape. Material Matters is about virtual design, it’s about reuse, it’s about inventing new materials, it’s about durability, it’s about renting things. It is a mixture of totally different initiatives that at first glance seem not to be related. Bringing this together as a Furniture Fair can have an impact.

Why did you bring them together as a Fair, and not something else?

Just like in 1993, we are bundling the sign of the time. In 1993 this was based on bringing together new visions on products. Now we are bundling business models, scenarios, processes. A fair means that every participant is independent. So many designers are starting their own businesses. I wanted to open the fair to them. This year the fair is imaginary, and is curated by us. We hope to host a real fair next time.

Do you think we need the policy change in order to get such a movement going?

The imagined policy change is the start of a thought experiment to speculate on design. Of course there are also negative aspects to taxing materials, like the disproportional impact on people who do not have much money. The point is not to convince the government that we should make the shift. It’s better to create a movement, and by-pass the need to make policy change.

The project started with imagining that policy changed. The government nudging people with new tax incentives. But in a way, the fair becomes a nudge for the design industry, minus the paternalism that would have come with the policy change.

Nowadays economists are taking into account the environment in their models, seeing biodiversity and water as economic assets. Material Matters wants to inspire designers to do the same—to build business models with environmental concerns at the core. It would be fantastic if this would generate a boom of new initiatives, building an industry of small creative companies that invent new businesses. And we never would reach the need to tax materials.

Join us.


“Sorry, but we don’t trust you architects”

The Tarwewijk case

In 2011 the renowned American critic Bruce Nussbaum posted a blog with the title “Is Humanitarian design the new imperialism?” This controversial statement came into my mind when we were confronted with cynical inhabitants of the Rotterdam neighbourhood Tarwewijk.

Tarwewijk has always been a problematic neighbourhood in the South of Rotterdam. It is one of the poorest and most densely populated districts of Rotterdam, inhabited by a high amount of immigrants who leave the area as soon as they get a chance, resulting in a 20% vacancy rate. There is also a high percentage of unemployment and illiteracy. It is one of those neighbourhoods that we would call “disadvantaged” and therefore, it is destined to attract a lot of well-intentioned temporary interventions by all kinds of parties including artists, designers and social workers. I think every city has such a pampered neighbourhood—an ideal target for social design.

A model

Our ambitions for Tarwewijk were triggered by Open House, a oneday event we did in New York’s prototypical suburb of Levittown in 2011 in collaboration with Diller Scofidio + Renfro. “Discover your inner service provider” was the motto as inhabitants collaborated with designers to establish businesses in their homes. The aim was to bring more vitality and interaction into the suburb, and also to improve its economic circumstances. A number of inhabitants opened their homes for a one-day business—including an unemployed teacher who opened a classroom and an avid gardener who opened a backyard farm. Architects Hayley Eber and Frank Gesualdi of EFGH created a model proposing ways of modifying existing regulations in order to enable such a bottom-up service economy to emerge in the suburbs.

Open House presented a model that we then wanted to test in a totally different kind of neighbourhood. We found Tarwewijk, a place where residents already were running their own businesses behind the facades, businesses like hairdressing, travel advise and radio broadcasting. Together with the inhabitants we wanted to make the existing network of hidden business activity visible and to celebrate Tarwewijk as a business district. At the same time we wanted to propose new strategies that would re-introduce work into daily life within the neighbourhood, loosening regulations and creating affordable workspaces. With a team of designers and our partners we have been working to make this happen.

One of those short-lived initiatives

However, when one of our collaborating design teams, TD, approached the inhabitants, they were confronted with stark cynicism. The residents considered our project as one of those short-lived intitiatives that they have encountered so many times before without any significant results. They accused the government that they were helping people to start a new business just because they want to get them off welfare support and to bring them into the tax system. They accused the architects that they steal their ideas: “You take our ideas, use them elsewhere and then you are gone!…Sorry, but we don’t trust you architects”. The residents of Tarwewijk seem to be fed up with all these patronizing attempts to help them. Instead of convincing the residents to continue with the “collaboration”, TD made a documentary, revealing their reactions instead.

At first I was shocked by these accusations but soon I began to realize that they were right. There is a gap between the design world and the people that designers want to reach. I started to distrust all this social work. I don’t doubt all the good intentions but who specializes in social design also needs victims—it’s their bread and butter. It’s time for a more strategic and long-term approach that has real impact.

Actual installations

We decided to cancel the one-day design event and to restrict ourselves to implementing the longer lasting concepts and strategies. We installed The Economat by Thomas Lommée, a converted photo booth which invites inhabitants to capture, describe and locate their personal “demands” or “supplies,” mapping and expanding the existing network of hidden homeworkers. The Green Machine by Doepel Strijkers, a production unit for compost that connects children to urban agriculture was installed in a centrally-located playground and connected to an existing family network.

Proposed strategies

Wouter Vanstiphout (Crimson) who was also participating in our project placed our project rightfully in the tradition of “incidental, exogenous and superficial attempts that an extremely short-lived, fashionable interest linked to a misleading optimistic tone”. The proposal he developed with Maxwan architects stood out because it is a strategy to stimulate long-lasting entrepreneurship in the neighbourhood. Tapping into the 20% vacancy rate in Tarwewijk, they allocated existing building blocks as a Special Economic Block, a safe area from municipal regulations, thematic zoning policies and trends in urban renewal and creative industries: “Freed from this, the blocks will attract the entrepreneurial energy, investments and jobs potentially already existing in the neighbourhood”. The Special Economic Block is worth investigating. It will attract entrepreneurial energy and it will create jobs. The rest is left for the inhabitants.

The question that is left behind is what is the role of designers in solving the socio-economic problems of these kind of neighbourhoods? Do those neighbourhoods need well-intentioned design stunts or are they better off with different municipal policies, loosening regulations, and more space and tools for self-organization. If we look at Dharavi, the pampering child of Mumbai, we see that the informal economy of this slum is blossoming (though of course there remain many pressing problems). And we see that the informal activity does not happen in isolation. Dharavi supplies luxurious hotels and restaurants in Mumbai. It is interesting how the formal and informal economy are co-dependent. Of course, circumstances are different in our part of the world, but giving space for more informal developments by the residents themselves should be recognized as a key way of moving forward. This is the role of design—to see how the informal activities that are happening already can be connected to broader strategies. Design should make the step from short-lived interventions to long-term strategies that cover all dimensions of the situation.


WIJkonomie Tarwewijk


image: Thomas Lommée installing De Economaat

It all started with Open House, a one-day event that we did in collaboration with Diller Scofidio + Renfro that took place in the prototypical suburb of Levittown, New York in 2011. Homes were opened up for business exchange, with the aim of reviving the suburbs through a bottom-up service economy that would introduce more contact and density into the neighbourhood. With this successful one-day event, we created a model that could revive neighbourhoods through self-created service exchange.

With the aim of testing the model in a completely different area, we teamed up with Jan Konings and Kosmopolis Rotterdam, who had been engaging with the informal work community in Tarwewijk, a multicultural community with considerable unemployment and illiteracy in the South of Rotterdam. Since Tarwewijk has a robust network of hidden business activity—from haircutting to car repair and radio broadcasting—we wanted to bring invisible business practice into public space and celebrate Tarwewijk as a business district.

Beyond the design event

Tarwewijk has come to symbolize the toughness of the socio-economic problems in the South of Rotterdam, and has suffered from being a testing ground for outsiders. However, it turned out that so many people have been trying to propose local change—often well-intentioned but short-lived—that many residents have become cynical to outsiders’ ideas. Therefore, rather than doing a one-day design event, we decided to implement projects in collaboration with residents and local organizations committed to continuity and to organize a design presentation and symposium at Netherlands Architecture Institute, where documentation of the installations will be shown and the Special Economic Block proposal by Crimson with Maxwan will be presented to decision makers.

The presentation will also show Masterplan by Jan Konings, a representation of how Tarwewijk might look in the near future, featuring concepts by TD Architects, Doepel Strijkers and Crimson with Maxwan. The Way We Are, an animation on the future of Tarwewijk’s identity by TD Architects will be screened. Documentation of the installation of De Economaat, a social machine that maps and visualizes micro-economic activities by Thomas Lommée with Netherlands Architecture Institute will be shown. Footage of the installation of Green Machine, a production unit for agricultural compost to be sold or exchanged by children by Doepel Strijkers Architects will be screened. Reaction of locals to our plans will be revealed.

The symposium, moderated by journalist Yvonne Zonderop, will feature Ole Bouman (NAI), Charles Renfro (Diller Scofidio + Renfro), Jan Konings, Robert Kloosterman (professor of Economic Geography and Planning, University of Amsterdam) and myself.

Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Start: 19:30h (doors opens at 19:00h)
Language: English
Location: Auditorium NAI (Museumpark 25, Rotterdam)
Admission: € 5 / € 3 for students / free for Friends of the NAI
Register.
More information coming soon.

WIJkonomie Tarwewijk is organized by Droog in collaboration with Jan Konings, Kosmopolis Rotterdam and Netherlands Architecture Institute, and is supported by DOEN Foundation.


Copying is good for design

We live in times of transition. Powers are shifting. The financial system is collapsing. Resources are scarce. It is obvious that there is a need to reevaluate our existing systems, to develop alternative models, and to find new focus and new inputs. In our globally networked society, everything is connected in a largely unregulated space, creating a structure in which the rules of yesterday are no longer valid.

Take for instance, the notion of copying. In science, it is common practice to build upon the work of others. The scientist will carefully quote the work of his or her predecessors. In the music industry artists have been experimenting with new models for dealing with this issue for a long time. They are sampling each other’s work in such a way that the original is getting rewarded. In the design world the open design movement is marching on. We are starting to see designers beginning to invite the public to copy their work.

The heart of copy culture

Copying happens everywhere but if you want to copy without legal problems, you better be in China. There you can find shops full of high-end design surrounded by misleading information, including pictures of the original designers. It is as realistic as it can be. But as soon as you realize that everything is offered for a third of the regular price, you know this must be immaculate copying. In China you can even find replicas of IKEA and Apple stores. And if you go to the city of Shenzhen, you have to visit Dafen oil painting village where painters are copying whatever image you give them.

China is the heart of copy culture. Copying forms the backbone of a substantial portion of Chinese industry. Copying and collective authorship is considered an important part of its culture. The practice of “Shanzhai,” which stands for slight modifications of the original, in some instances should rightfully be dismissed as consumer deception, but in other instances it might offer something positive by adding something extra to the original. I think this practice could give us another view on copy culture. We could just see copying as a way of making variations.

Saturated by variations

It is not only online phenomena that should change our view on copying, it is also the growing amount of products on the market. In pre-industrial days, copying used to be a positive act. It was seen as a skill. Artists were looked upon as handworkers. Copying became a negative notion with the cult of the individual artist and the arrival of mass production, which made replication extremely cheap and easy. Copyright and intellectual property laws were created to protect the original. In those days, the amount of new products reaching the market was relatively small. Currently there are so many new products entering the market every day, that it is almost impossible for designers to be completely original all the time. When you look in the magazines or visit the fairs you notice that original designs are rare. The majority are variations of existing designs, and the boundary between an original and a variation is becoming increasingly unclear.

Redesigning dead stock

The issue of redesigning exiting products was also raised by UP, our recent project that proposes a new economic model based on the redesign of leftovers—brand new products that are likely to be thrown away. Triggered by the scarcity of our resources and the saturation of the market, UP aims to bring dead stock back into circulation, and at the same time, it opens up new possibilities for design. But redesigning existing designs is in principle a forbidden act, even if it is dead stock. The networked economy and the open design movement, coupled with issues such as resource scarcity and market saturation lead us in new directions, urging a reevaluation of intellectual property rights.

A new model

Starting with the idea that copying as shared creativity can be innovative, in partnership with Today Art Museum, Beijing and OCT Art and Design Gallery, Shenzhen, we organized a workshop with Dutch and Chinese designers in the city of Shenzhen, where we have been encountering and discussing the issue of copying and copyrights. With a few public debates we continued the discussion with press, critics, designers and students. We learned that copying is a complex subject. It is difficult to define the difference between copying and fashion and to draw the line between whether one design has been influenced by another or if it is in fact a counterfeit. Another issue is how to honour the original. But what became clear was that we really need to reevaluate our attitudes towards copying and intellectual property. In our workshop in Shenzhen we formulated the first ideas for a model that could encourage and reward legal copying culture. In close collaboration with the Dutch and Chinese participants we are now fine tuning this model and working to make it happen.


Fantastical Investments

Time is Life by Droog with Metahaven

This Thursday, September 22nd we will present the outcome of the Droog Lab project that investigated the habits of Russian consumers at Droog in Amsterdam. A presentation will follow in Moscow in 2012 in partnership with Strelka Institute of Media, Architecture and Design. As in all our Droog Lab projects, the outcome will be accompanied with a debate.

Our Lab projects start with my intuitive observations. In New York I was struck by the service economy, and in Russia, I was struck with consumer behaviour.

We all know that that Russia has a rich tradition in literature. In 1987, when I took a train to the countryside outside of Moscow, farmers were sitting around me with buckets of potatoes that they were taking to sell on the city markets. They were totally absorbed by Dostoyevsky and Tolstoy. In supermarkets and kiosks, classics and popular fiction books sit next to each other, as convenient items to be consumed on the go. I wondered how this addiction to reading could be reconciled with their lavish consumption—their love of diamonds and gold. Is there something to be learned from this paradoxical culture?

This was the brief to the team led by Daniel van der Velden (Metahaven). During their research in Moscow they discovered that these seemingly conflicting ways of consuming can be reduced to passion—to their love for fiction and fantasy as forms of escapism. This need for escapism emerged from a context of institutional mistrust. Since money is said to be dust, something not worth saving, it is better to spend it on more reliable things. We then realized spending on fiction and durable goods should be seen as an investment. A classic example is golden teeth, and another striking example we heard about was about a guy who bought two Porsches—one to drive in, the other one for spare parts.

The thought that acquiring durable goods can be a survival strategy made me think about our notion of the aesthetics of sustainability. If goods are durable why do they have to look so austere? We seem to think that there is a connection between “saving the environment” and an aesthetic that is bare and grey. We seem to think that sustainability is austerity, it is moderation, it is consuming less. If products are designed as an investment for one’s lifetime, there is no need to our pre-conceived notions of sustainable aesthetics. One of the outcomes of our project is a carpet with a pattern that changes as you get older and your taste and needs change. You buy it once in your lifetime. Another design shows screws that are made of 24-carat gold. Hidden in your furniture, they provide security if times get worse.

On September 22nd these principles will be presented with an imaginary brand, Fantastical Investments. The brand connects notions of survival and escapism with fiction and fantasy. Fiction is survival, story is shelter and celebration is memory.

In conversation with our team, Olga Kuzina, a Russian sociologist and economist pointed out that “in the world of rising uncertainty and institutional instability Russia may be considered as a looking glass that for the last 20 years has been offering the Western countries the reflection of the coming future.” In Russia the post-institutional era has begun, whereas we are just starting to mistrust the institutions. I would add that Russia also leads the way to a different vision on the aesthetics of sustainability, the creation of products that last a lifetime, products that will not be thrown away after a few years, products that can be seen as an investment in our insecure times.


preview: Fiction is Survival

A preview for our upcoming presentation of Fantastical Investments by Droog in collaboration with Daniel van der Velden (Metahaven) and in partnership with Strelka Institute for Media, Architecture and Design.

Save Thursday, September 22nd 4:00 – 6:00 pm to join us for the panel discussion followed by exhibition opening at Droog Amsterdam until 8:00 pm. RSVP info@droog.com (limited spaces!).


Open House: what a concept

In Suburbia: What a Concept published by the Opinionator of New York Times, Allison Arieff is certainly right when she says: “Addressing suburban ills requires massive change to systems, to finance, to transportation and infrastructure, and perhaps most challenging, to a culture deeply wedded to suburbia as emblematic of the American Dream.”

Most ills in this world (and we know there isn’t a shortage of them) require massive change on systematic and ideological levels. Indeed, it is a capacity—and many say, a responsibility—of design to address the many pressing problems facing the world today.

But is this the only role for design? Is design solely a form of crisis management and problem solving? Or can design also offer a different perspective on a problem, without having the aim of solving the problem entirely?

Service exchange in the suburbs

Our inspiration came from New York City’s service economy. In collaboration with Diller Scofidio + Renfro, we realized this system does not only create jobs and encourage social encounters, but also plays a psychological role for the service providers, in stimulating them discover something they are good at. We saw that the habit of outsourcing all kinds of life tasks by people in New York encourages others to invent their own professions.

We also noticed that many service providers we met created their profession with little investment and new infrastructure. Dany the trainer visited the homes of his clients to do training on their floor, Joshua the psychic held his practice in his home and Brian the dog walker only needed leashes and trust. It turns out that starting your own profession is possible with little or no capital.


photo by James Morris

We thought these dynamics had broader potential. Entering the suburbs, we did not intend to resolve the issues it faces, but rather to explore what value personal service exchanges might offer to suburbia.

We see Open House as a movement in which homeowners consider home business as a viable way to create a new role for themselves, which also increases interaction with neighbors, and possibly supplements one’s primary income. The one day event offered ideas and illustrated potential outcomes—some more realistic and some more speculative (or even fictional) than others. As a tool to help people discover their inner service providers, the event served to provoke visitors and participants to think for themselves about what might be useful for them as a business. We didn’t expect that the homeowners participating in the event would open up a business overnight.


www.drsofa.com

Many services we encountered during our research in Manhattan appeared to be absurd at first glance (think of hiring someone to follow your spouse because you are suspicious of misbehavior, hiring someone to cut up your sofa so you can get it up your stairs, or signing up for a service to do yoga with your dog). The service economy has shown that what might start off as a strange business proposition, often turns out to address people’s actual needs and transforms into a serious business.


photo by Naho Kubota

That’s what seemed to have happened at Open House #6: Attention Clinic by Claudia Linders. Though its inspiration, the Monty Python Argument Clinic of 1978, is more comical in its intent, the one-day Attention Clinic at 39 Old Oak Lane turned out to be surprisingly real for homeowner Polly Dwyer: “When you are 82 years old, people often ignore you because they think you don’t know anything. I was thrilled to find out people wanted advice from me. It turned out I had a lot of life experience that I could call upon and it wasn’t so difficult for me to do so. I wasn’t expecting this at all.” Though Polly does not plan to pursue the Attention Clinic (she has her plate full curating Levittown Museum and taking care of her husband), her participation in the one day event revealed a hidden capacity she hadn’t considered before.


photo by Spencer Lapp

A less unusual but equally earnest proposal was Open House #5: PS72 Porch-Side Lessons by Austin + Mergold with Spencer Lapp. PS72 was a teaching facility hosted at 72 Knoll Lane by Phyllis Dalton, a teacher and school principal who has been out of a teaching position for a few years. Designer Jason Austin explains: “Phyllis asked us to give her back her classroom. It was obvious to us that she had a lot of talent, but she seemed not to be able to market herself and her talent. The architecture became a platform for her service. We wanted it to support and display her talents and presence within the neighborhood.” Adopting a suburban vernacular, the materials for PS72 came primarily from Home Depot, including off-the-shelf plywood and lumber, lawn-mower wheels, plastic tarps and the American flag—an off-the-shelf garden accessory. The designers also adopted an institutionalized aesthetic to make the experience reminiscent of elementary school. “All aspects of the project were about developing infrastructure that was familiar and accessible to the suburban community.”

We also spoke with Phyllis after the event: “Once a teacher always a teacher,” she said. “I enjoyed passing on something that was not academic to people. I was able to use the teaching skills I had from my career for something that I was more passionate about.” Teaching the visitors two personal hobbies (collecting Hummels and making photo books), the 15-minute school session offered visitors a classroom experience, complete with a miniaturized version of a gymnasium, a library, a graduation ceremony and class photos.


photo by Austin + Mergold

The bigger issues

A few keen early-adopting homeowners with new business concepts are not enough to start the Open House movement. There are bigger issues to tackle, like outdated suburban regulations, and other issues rightfully raised by Arieff, including finance, transportation and infrastructure. The ninth house on the Open House tour addressed some of the broader implications of the Open House proposition.


photo by Naho Kubota


image by EFGH

In what was deemed the neighborhood showroom, Future Open Houses by EFGH (Hayley Eber & Frank Gesualdi) with Irina Chernyakova challenged existing rules of the suburbs and visualized the potential outcome of a bottom-up service economy on six blocks of Levittown. Regulatory modifications were proposed, including the possibility to convert private property (for example driveways) into public right-of-way (in for example, an drive-through service for sales or rentals), joint-use easements for two or more property owners to share a common feature (such as a mini storage facility or performance space built between two homes) or the modification of a occupancy group classification for the setting up of a public amenity (like a public theater, for instance). This house also presented sample floor plans of houses modified to host public services such as an art gallery, a love hotel, or a dog-sitting business.


Art gallery


Love hotel

Next steps

We see the event as a model for a future suburbia, which is not the model to solve all possible problems facing the suburbs. It is just a model to revive—to get more life—into suburbia.

The one day event was the first phase of the project. We are currently working on a publication which will deepen our insights, including those raised from these discussions.

In our work, we approach many serious topics, such as the rise in single living, sustainability, the increasing pace of life and the economic crisis in a playful way. We want to continue to generate debate by presenting models and possible scenarios with a light-hearted spirit. We are glad the debate has started.

Visit openhouse2011.com for more info.


Why are you doing this?

This question was asked after my talk at Design Indaba, where I introduced the Droog Lab. The Lab is working on a series of eight projects from 2009-2012, each with a unique theme inspired by a different location.

To answer, let me go back to the beginning. In 1993, Droog created a movement in conceptual design by combining simplicity, irony and a no-nonsense mentality. Its uniqueness contributed to the Dutch design mentality, and eventually had an impact globally. But what was new then has now become common, and therefore has lost a sense of urgency. In the meantime, the design world has become introspective, celebrating star designers and “art design”. The amount of new products churning out of the industry is increasing every day, and most of them are are not even worth mentioning.

It is time for a paradigm shift.

In other words: it is time for a paradigm shift. And yes, the signs of such a shift are already there. Sustainability and social issues have become part of the design agenda. Designers are incorporating processes and scenarios in their work. We see the connecting power of digital media and how this affects design, generating the notion of open design. All of these strands are aiming to bring relevance to the design profession.

Droog is playing an active role. One of our current developments is MakeMe, a platform with new interactive design tools for designers and consumers for downloadable design and local production. Another one came up when we learned that yearly millions of totally new products are destroyed for the simple reason that the factory made too many of them or because there’s a small mistake. We launched We Want Waste, a project that makes leftovers accessible to designers for redesign, considering rejected products as raw materials for creative re-interpretation.

Beyond the “do good” approach.

But structurally I think there is more work to do. We have to go beyond simply the “do good” approach to design, a design approach justified solely by doing good for society and climate. We have to stimulate creativity on more levels and with more objectives.

The Droog Lab is looking beyond the world of design. We are interested in creative energy that is not necessarily associated with design. All over the world people have been, and still are, creative. People build houses, design tools, create economic and social systems and decorate their spaces, not only in the past and far away but also now and nearby. The world is full of identities, not created by designers but by people themselves. The Droog Lab visits local communities all over the world because we see value in their way of living. We take a theme as the starting point, we visit the place for inspiration and translate this theme to an universal level, to the world of contemporary design. We take one step back and two steps forward—one step back to take distance from our prejudices and preoccupations and two steps forward to change patterns in the design landscape.

One step back and two steps forward.

So a design team went to Dubai, leaving their prejudices at home. The designers were impressed by the enormous sense of ambition that created Dubai, the fact that it came out of nothing, and that everything seemed possible there. This inspired them to create a parallel world where designers could work collaboratively and anonymously, not bothered by real-world economic or social restraints and where payments could be done with time instead of money. And this parallel world can be made possible thanks to social media.

The proposal by the design team touches upon several topics that currently are affecting the design profession, such as the impact of digital media, how to deal with collaborative design, designer autonomy and intellectual property, and the possibilities created by alternative currencies. We are deepening these themes in the project publication.

Whether it is the level of ambition in Dubai, the service economy in New York, the way people survive in the harsh conditions of Northern Canada, or the seemingly superficial way of consuming in Moscow, we learn from every location we visit. Our insights from these areas stimulate us to go into matters as versatile as food production and city planning, the design of services, transparency in design, shifting public and private relationships, the meaning of ownership, the future of the suburbs, the importance of fantasy and fiction in design, to name a few.

So, back to the question: I see Droog Lab as a methodology to change our perspective by going back to society as a source of inspiration for the next generation of design. The Droog Lab aims to intensify the paradigm shift that is already on its way in the world of design.

Read more about the Lab.

photo by Jonx Pillemer

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