In the last few years there has been a spate of articles noting the “plague of rock stacks” in the wilderness. Some conservationists have even asked hikers to stop building rock piles for ecological reasons (exposing the soil, disturbing insect and animal habitats) while some “stone balancers,” such as Peter Juhl, are concerned with the problem of littering natural areas with stone stacking structure and instead advocate a “leave-non-trace approach in creating our temporary art.”
I have always been intrigued by the simple act of stacking. Why do young toddlers and artists and trail hikers and the builders of cairns and inukshuks have this desire in common? Why do some of these builders consider their structures as permanent markers while others see them as structures to be knocked down and possibly re built again? Why do some “builders” take pleasure in the design of stacked forms while others feel the need to represent something?
Stacking similar or unrelated forms implies designing with “loose parts” Early childhood educators have recently been reexamining and extoling the use of “loose parts”. Books, articles and numerous blogs show examples of children stacking, lining up and making complex constructions with multiples of material from the natural world and discards from industry. The theory of “loose parts”, developed by Simon Nicholson in the late 1960’s, has become part of the early childhood education lexicon. Nicolson focused on the democratization of creativity, proposing that building and designing should not be left to the “elite” or the “gifted” but is a process that should be available to everybody.
Drones will never take the place of the hands of toddlers who delight in constructing tall towers with blocks. However, on a larger scale, it is curious to see the work of the Swiss architects Gramazio & Kohler who are working on future plans to use drones in the construction of skyscrapers. Check out the video: http://vimeo.com/33713231
Image from article by Stan Alcorn at Co.Exist
The engineering firm, ARUP has come up with a mock-up design for a building of the future -2050. Perhaps we need some new modular construction toys or recycled elements to inspire our youngest architects to play with these ideas. I can imagine that if some of these images were projected in the block area of a preschool classroom, a group of five year olds might add something to ARUP’s preliminary designs.
“Most futuristic of all, the structure is completely modular, and designed to be shifted about (using robots, of course). The building has three layer types, with different life-spans: a permanent layer at the bottom,
a 10- to 20-year layer (which includes the “facade and primary fit-out walls, finishes, or on-floor mechanical plant.” And a third layer that can incorporate rapid changes, such as new IT equipment.”
Winter Blues…and red and orange and yellow and green and purple…and white and shadows
Just in case the dark, cold and snowy winter days are getting you down, these two constructive and aesthetically pleasing winter design projects by engineering student Daniel Gray and artist Simon Beck might inspire some creative activity in the snowy outdoors. (Speaking from Vermont where we just received over two feet of snow.)
Daniel Gray used milk cartons as molds to make colored ice blocks to construct a rainbow igloo. The blocks were stuck together with “snowcrete” – a mixture of snow and water.
Simon Beck used snow as a medium to carve intricate designs in a massive snowy field.
Here are some more tantalizing images of what happens when ordinary objects are assembled into formal, geometric compositions by artists and designer. These “temporary” carpets are reminiscent of the structures that young children create with blocks. Although children’s initial intention and their access to such a large quantity of units may certainly differ from this Dutch design collective, the impulse to create order and beauty from the ordinary is similar as well as the fragility and temporal nature of the final product.
My Final Workshop at MoMA – Wednesday, November 14th
Free and open to the public
25 people limit
Blocks Tell a Story: Creating Narratives in Space and Time
Led by toy designer and educator Karen Hewitt of Burlington, Vermont–based Learning Materials Workshop, these two workshops and drop-in activities invite visitors to channel their inner sense of creative play to design their own stories and reinvent their urban landscapes with building
Workshops begin with a brief visual tour of the history of building blocks
as a learning tool from the 1850s to the present—from Friedrich Froebel to
computer Smart Blocks. Participants then create narratives using only
blocks. Without the aid of figurative miniature objects, the blocks can
become symbols for objects, people, and animals. Participants’ narratives
will be documented and shared.
These Sakir Gökçebag images should be of interest to teachers of young children as well as artists.“Removing everyday objects from their customary context” and seeing the beauty and poetry in these images is part of young children’s everyday experience.
Dr. Marcus Graf
On the Beauty of the Normal and the Poetry of the Everyday “Some thoughts on the works of Sakir Gökçebag
In his work, Sakir Gökçebag deconstructs the various dimensions of our everyday life to reveal its complexity and the multiple facets of reality this yields. The artist, who was born in 1965 in Turkey and currently resides in Hamburg, studied at the Faculty of Fine Arts in Istanbul. After completing his dissertation, he attended the Düsseldorf Art Academy on a DAAD grant, where he was awarded the Markus Lüpertz Prize. From the very beginning, the organization of three-dimensional objects in a given space played a decisive role in his work, which originally was focused upon graphic arts and painting. Today, his work is primarily determined by ready-made style object-based and spatial installations, in which he removes everyday objects from their customary contexts, charging them with new, often absurd levels of meaning through serial reproduction, deformation, and deconstruction. “
I left New York City on the last Megabus out before Hurricane Sandy hit the city. I have been in touch with many friends in the city who have been coping in various creative ways. Although most of the power is back on in Manhattan so many people are still suffering – their homes destroyed and the cold weather setting in. I am especially thinking of the young children and their families during this most difficult time.
For those that were not able to attend the symposium “The Child in the City of Play,” you can see it on line. The symposium was held in conjunction with the MoMA exhibit “Century of the Child” and “Common Senses. During the hour break time, the lively crowd interacted with the exhibits in “Common Senses,” including my own block installation and Reggio Children’s Digital Landscapes. “Common Senses” closes on November 19th so you still have an opportunity to see it if you are in New York. MoMA is open but subway transportation is somewhat limited. Things are improving slowly but this was a devastating storm
I just returned from an exciting week in NYC setting up my part of the exhibit “Common Senses” at The Museum of Modern Art.
The exhibit is held in conjunction with the “Century of the Child” exhibit in the Architecture and Design Department. “Common Senses” is designed for audience participation and since it is interactive, it will change everyday. The moment I finished installing my section, I realized that it was just the beginning, not the end. I will be returning to MoMA next week to give a workshop on Wednesday afternoon, October 3rd. The installation process took several days and I was fortunate to spend some time with Ilaria Cavallini and Simona Spiaggiari from Reggio Emilia as they were setting up their amazing Digital Landscape Atelier.
If you can get to NYC to see these two exhibits you won’t be disappointed. Leave yourself several hours to absorb the “Century of the Child” exhibit and to interact with “Common Senses
If you think that structures created with blocks are ephemeral and transcient, take a look at “A Sign in Space, an art installation by Gunilla Klingberg at Spain ’s Laga Beach . ” It’s a “truck tire star pattern” that’s diligently embossed into the sand at low tide, only to be washed away at high tide. The beach becomes a giant groomed sculpture, only to turn back into unformed sand.”
Growing up in the middle of Manhattan, my wilderness adventures consisted of climbing trees in Riverside Park. I had always wanted to build a tree house and I continue to be fascinated about creating a small living space above the high branches. The design of the Senior-Center-turned tree house speaks to this nostalgia. However, rather than just gazing at the tree house from the Senior Center housing, I think that providing some kind of access to the structure, such as a ramp or a lift, would provide a richer experience than simply gazing up and remembering the past. A number of architects are designing tree houses for adults – some are even hotels that compete with bird nests.
The “Anemone” installation is part of a genre of visual works of art that invite audience participation. Some other examples created over the past seventy years bridging the world of art and play can be seen on the website www.playart.org . The “Anemone,” reminded me of the tubing used in the constructions made by children with Curvilinear. The flexible transparent and colored tubes in this set provide an open-ended material for children to create a variety of forms – certainly less formal, and perhaps, less intentional than “Anemone.” Blocks and construction toys, consisting of loose parts, invite interaction. They are meant to be touched, turned, and transformed into a myriad of constructions that also appeal on an aesthetic level.
“Anemone is an art installation aimed at waving together aesthetic experience and tactile engagement- a combination generally considered off limits within the world of contemporary art. All too often, art installations are considered precious, almost sacred objects; while they are meant to be appreciated for their aesthetic beauty, they offer little in terms of human interaction. In other words, they are meant to be seen, not felt. Recognizing that human engagement is one of the key factors in creating a rich experience, Anemone has been designed with the idea of interaction as one of its key design objectives.” Anemone Installation / Oyler Wu Collaborative :Lidija Grozdanic | February – 21 – 2012
To follow up on my last blog on building blocks, construction and literacy, here is an image of my most favorite, well-worn first edition of Stuart Little that I recently found stuffed in a box in my cabin in East Corinth, Vermont. A country cousin of Stuart had methodically chewed several edges of the books to use as construction material for a nest. I am not sure how Stuart Little, or for that matter, EB White, the author or Garth Williams, the illustrator, would feel about this activity but it is an example of purposeful recycling from the country mouse’s point of view.
I realize that this is a bit of a stretch but I immediately thought about the connection between young children’s block play (construction) and the development of literacy. The impulse to take modular forms and stack them or make patterns is common among young children as well as many adult artists. Parallel with this form-making impulse is the desire to construct narratives with these forms. There is a bit of both in the works of Milar Lagos and Guy Laramee. Following up on this theme, I will be adding an image in my next blog that I will entitle “Revenge of the Mouse.” I recently discovered my precious first edition copy of Stuart Little by E.B. White tenderly chewed on the lower-right hand corner by a resident mouse in my house in East Corinth, Vermont. Perhaps it was Stuart’s illiterate but artistic country cousin.
These Rube Goldberg-like inventions, although more complex, remind me of some of the machine constructions by young children that work with cause and effect. The “story” behind the children’s “machines” are often very detailed and carefully developed and, like Rube’s machines, often make something very complicated that could be done in a more direct way. It is this “complication” that speaks to creativity and humor. If you have shown these video clips to young children, it would be interesting to share the children’s responses and to see if they inspire new ideas for “machines” that make easy tasks, more difficult.
“We discussed … our frustrations with some of our reports not showing us what we really needed to see,” Dennis Pastor writes Co.Design. We came to the conclusion that our processes were 3-dimensional but our reports were only 2-dimensional. We needed to see them 3-D; hand sketches were exchanged over the weekend and within the following week, GM had the first LEGO prototype in use. But beyond their transparency, there may be a bigger advantage to Legos: they’re also fun. By mapping real world problems to an icon of our youth, each challenge must be approached with an inherent playfulness. And because Legos are, by their very nature, expected to be rebuilt, patterns don’t appear stuck in stone–or just as bad–printed in ink. Now, if only we could get the Lego pirate ship or a lunar rover in the mix, we’d really have something.”
This is the second article that talks about the use of Legos as a tool/toy for adults to represent ideas in a three-dimensional form and, to have “fun” in the process. We know that children use all blocks in the same way – to visualize, test and retest ideas since the flexibility of blocks allows them to knock them down and rebuild again. It is curious that Pastor wants to add the Lego pirate ship or the lunar rover which seems to be the opposite idea of the non-representational, open-ended, and therefore, flexible nature of the Lego brick and, of blocks in general.
When children make up narratives during their block play without the
availability of toy people or animals, they will create their characters
using blocks and construction parts. It is interesting to see what colors
and shapes they feel correspond to the features of their imaginary
In a similar imaginative act, these Lego design ads use non-representational
forms to create a character. They have taken one or two salient features of
these cartoon characters and through a choice of a specific color or size
relationship, they have represented them with Lego bricks.
“It’s a series of minimalist Lego designs based upon some of our most
beloved cartoon characters. From Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, to The
Smurfs, to The Simpsons, to the kids from South Park…
Through the simplest of visual cues, the ads find the perfect balance of
implying so the viewer can infer.”
What is the opposite of a skyscraper? Check out this “groundscraper”, a luxury hotel planned for construction in an abandoned quarry in Shanghai.
This noisy chemistry lab is a a curious melding of building, sound color and shape. Observe these children constructing in a new medium. They are even stacking these jelly blocks.
As a designer of building toys for budding architects, I want to join Google in wishing Mies van der Rohe a special Happy Birthday – 1886- 1969.
His often quoted remarks have always resonated in my design and education work.
“Architecture starts when you carefully put two bricks together. There it begins.”
Speaking about restraint in design, the New York Herald Tribune, 28 Jun 1959.
“Less is more.”
Speaking about restraint in design, the New York Herald Tribune, 28 Jun 1959.
I discovered these images of an “Ice Hotel” built of snow and ice in a village in Swedish Lapland that reminded me of my collection of small clear, acrylic, half domes and rectangular prisms blocks. Not only can I create free form sculptures and twenty-first century skyscrapers with the blocks, but I can add an ”ice hotel” to some of the playful constructions. Although the scale and the temperature of the forms in the ice hotel are larger and considerably colder to the touch, the beauty of transparent forms and the shadows are similar.
The passion for building skyscrapers begins when a one years old carefully stacks four blocks on top of each other to make a tower. Although the rationale, the engineering problems, the materials, and the social and aesthetic issues become infinitely more complex, the desire to build high seems part of our DNA. Here are some examples the winners of eVolo’s 2012 Skyscraper Competition. These images might inspire some pre-school block builders to expand their construction ideas.
“The first place was awarded to Zhi Zheng, Hongchuan Zhao and Dongbai Song from China for their project “Himalaya Water Tower”. The proposal is a skyscraper located high in the Himalayan mountain range that stores water and helps regulate its dispersal to the land below as the mountains’ natural supplies dry up. The skyscraper, which can be replicated en masse, will collect water in the rainy season, purify it, freeze it into ice and store it for future use.
The second place was awarded to Yiting Shen, Nanjue Wang, Ji Xia, and Zihan Wang from China for their project “Mountain Band-Aid”, a design that seeks to simultaneously return the displaced Hmong mountain people to their homes and work as it restores the ecology of the Yunnan mountain range.
The recipient of the third place is Lin Yu-Ta from the Taiwan for a “Vertical Landfill” to be located in the largest cities around the globe, both as a reminder of the outrageous amount of garbage that we produce and as a power plant that harvests energy from waste decomposition.”
What fascinated me about this installation using both traditional and found materials was the artist’s way of depicting the two-dimensional world spilling out into the three-dimensional space. Growing up in New York City, I spent many hours as a child in the Museum of Natural History wandering between the dinosaurs and wondering if the stuffed tigers in the life-size dioramas were suddenly going to leap out and grab me. I was most curious about finding the actual physical line where the two dimensional painting stopped and the three-dimensional taxidermy animals and plants began – that slippery point where the real world and the world of the imagination seamlessly collide.
What a wonderful idea! This “Clenoscope” can be found at a children’s park in Mumbai, India .You can throw away your unwanted trash into the “Clenoscope” and view the transformation of trash into dazzling triangular designs. I would imagine that if you were selective about the trash that you are dumping, you could control the color, texture and size of your design.
The images below are from my workshop, “Blocks as a Learning Tool in the Early Childhood Classroom: Literacy and STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering and Math.)” held last Saturday at the Early Childhood Lab School of the University of the District of Columbia. I had just come down to Washington DC after walking past thousands of booths at the Toy Fair in NYC to see the latest products. It is always curious to view toys through a commercial lens in contrast to an educational lens. The glittery Toy Fair screams, BUY! BUY! BUY!, without much thought about how or why children would be using the toy over time. More is More. At the workshop, in contrast, we focused on children’s and teacher’s interaction with a variety of building materials – modular blocks, recycled and natural materials. What kinds of materials provoke and expand children’s thinking and how teacher’s observations, questions, and conversations with children can further enrich their ideas.
I am always struck by the quantities of toys that are being produced each year. Who needs them? I realize that this is a peculiar question to be asked by a toy designer but I have always favored the idea that less is more.
The images below show educators constructing a series of buildings of equal height during an exploration of non-standard measurement.
With all the latest Lego model kits and Lego theme packaging it is both
curious and refreshing to see Lego used in this basic way. The simple Lego
brick appears on a street corner. Is it a mini-art installation, a
decorative touch to add contrast to the gray stone, or a clever and colorful
repair for a partially crumbling wall.
I am intrigued about the question of scale and building with young children. What happens to the play narrative when a child constructs a two foot tall building with blocks and places a one foot toy elephant next to it? Does the play narrative change when a 3 inch toy tiger enters the scene? Does scale matter to young children?
Check out these photographs on the huzi design site. Although the images are of food and miniature figures, they provoke the question about how scale changes meaning and potential narrative.
Seattle-based photographer Christopher Boffoli presents an odd yet intriguing relationship with food in his Disparity series. Inspired by the media he saw as a little boy, he takes these images that look like kids living in an out-of-scale adult world.
This excellent video on the Infant Toddler and Preschools in Reggio Emilia
was created and first broadcasted in 2007 by RAI UNO, Italian public
television. It was prepared by a highly respected Italian science journalist
and writer, Piero Angela, in cooperation with Reggio Children. It has
I have always been fascinated with the way children retell and re-imagine stories or real events with blocks and construction toys. For a number of years I have been presenting workshop for teachers exploring the blocks and literacy connection. I came across this series of projects in Design Observer where three architectural firms “…look at fairy tales through the lens of architecture.” These wildly imaginative, yet grounded presentations confirm this rich connection. Be sure and see the entire slide show.
“Fairy tales have transfixed readers for thousands of years, and for many reasons; one of the most compelling is the promise of a magical home. How many architects, young and old, have been inspired by the hero or heroine, banished from the cottage, lost in the woods, who risks everything to find a forever-space?
In this series, which appears in three installments this week on Places, we look at fairy tales through the lens of architecture. Participating firms — Bernheimer Architecture, Leven Betts and Guy Nordenson and Associates — have selected favorite tales and produced works exploring the intimate relationship between the domestic structures of fairy tales and the imaginative realm of architecture.
Houses in fairy tales are never just houses; they always contain secrets and dreams. This project presents a new path of inquiry, a new line of flight into architecture as a fantastic, literary realm of becoming. We welcome you to these fairy-tale places.”
— Kate Bernheimer & Andrew Bernheimer