Someone please explain this to me

jonny round boy said:
poto said:
I kept hoping that this was some sort of design competition where they gave the guy one sheet of melamine-covered plywood, and asked him to create as many interesting pieces of furniture as he could out of it. I could imagine IKEA doing that - they have some great designs within strong constraints of initial materials, joinery, and packing. Frankly, I think a competition like that would be pretty fun. I'd love to see what people came up with.

We did something similar when I was at college - to design & make a piece of furniture using a VERY small cutlist (a few off-cuts of ply & a little bit of softwood). I came up with a tall, thin hall table:

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Which is slightly similar to one of the designs this guy made:

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Though I designed mine 6 years ago!

Thanks JRB for showing us the ending.  As others mentioned, they did not hang around long enough to see the final results.  i was one of them.  i suppose it was art.  The finished product did serve some function, so i can't knock it all the way.  I agree with previous respondent that yours looked better. 

Some who attempted to explain the artistry left me more in the dark.  Not really a put down from this side, just that when it comes to some art, i am a complete nincompoop. I do appreciate realistic art. I grew up with artists.  my father, my mother and my brother were/are very accomplished artists.  My father was well known world wide for his own brand of craftsmanship, design and artistry. he could design and build with anything from needle and thread to soldering.  My mother was gifted in many art mediums.  my brother got a masters degree in art.  me, i just enjoy going my own blissful way, which brings me to another story that perhaps might illustrate the different ways each of us look at art and design.

My brother was attending Cleveland Art Institute ( something like that in Cleveland.0  i went out to visit with him and to see his newest family addition, a daughter. His two sons i had already become acquainted with.  during my visit, Brother invited me to a student/faculty art exibit.

There were hundreds of "paintings", none of which i understood in the least.  you may know what i mean when I tell you there were eyes looking out of table legs.  Triangles that were supposed to be birds.  that sort of stuff.  i did not connect with any one of them and found nothing to grab my interrest to slow me down in my progress down the hall.  all of a sudden, i came upon something to which i could feel a connection.  A little girl was sitting on a stonewall with a rose in her hands.  she had the most beautiful, far awy look in her eye.  you could just feel her.  i stopped for a long time loking at the only item of familiarity in the entire show.  "Now that is art," I thought to myself.

I had kept my thoughts to myself as i was listening to my brother and his friends "oohing" and "ahhing" at each and every monstrocity they came to.  When they came to "my" little girl with the rose and contentment, my brother's immediate comment was, "My god, who the hell put that garbage up here?"  Well i never heard the answer, but realized i was destined to never become a successful art critic.  :-[

Me, i like the artistry of Festools and fine wood.  I'm far from a good designer, but i have fun in the trying. 

Tinker
 
Little comment 'bout Art.

I have a sibling, complete with a Masters in fine art.

Right a flippin master's a PHD. Dr. Freakin Swenson.

Know what?

He can't draw water.

Per
 
"Art is art only in the eye of the beholder."  An old saying i have used as my personal defence upon ocassion.  As i said in a previous post, my father, mother and brother were all artists.  my mother's and father's art i coud understand and relate to.  my brother's bread and butter art i could understand.  it was his "creativity" mode i could never relate to.  Along with the creativity, there is, as with many artists of his era,  certain disdain for mere mortals.  especially those who do not undrstand that sort of stuff>>> like me.  During his days of schooling in pursuit of his masters in fine art, brother discovered iron and concrete. i won't delve in to the type of work he did other than to say it was/is "way out"

One of his early creations was a monstrocity of a wad of concrete for a center with a whole bunch of steel rods sticking out in all sorts of directions. i don't recall what his term for it was, but my term was explained with the initials APITA.  It wasn't that i had to look at it once in awhile, but the real pain came when i was the one who was always called upon to deliver the horror to various art shows.  assist with placement and the eventual removal from the show, not to the local land fill as was my suggestion, but back to Mom's house.  all of this while dear Brother was having his good times far away in Cleveland art Institute and Tulane U.  My complaints about the dangers of handle the ----- wierd looking monstrocity were met with replies such as i knew nothing about art.  At the time, I just happened to be the only one in the family, other than my father, who was actually earning a good living at art, my type of art.  I was doing well enough that i had several employees, full time employees plus several sub contractors to handle the rough stuff.  BUT, not one of those employees or subs dared come close to The Thing.  Each time i got somebody to give me a hand, they requested i find somebody else the next time.  They, or I should say we, as i had the same fears they all had. We were all afraid that if we picked it up wrong, we would certainly end up talking funny.  remember, those spikes stuck out in all directions, and i mean ALL.

Since it was kept at Mom's house, she liked to keep it in her garden for all to see.  sort of pride in her youngest son who was getting his degree in college.  My only comment (well not exactly my only comment>>> LOL) to her was that the best place to put it in her garden would be about 6 feet below the surface.  "Otherwise, somebody will become impaled on several of those pokey things sticking out."  such remarks were never met with replies of positive enthusiasm.  I just needed to be around for the next art show.

One day, i had stopped in at the house for a beer, or whatever.  as I was about to make myself comfortable in the kitchen, my mother, who had been weeding in her garden, came into the room with a huge rip in the seat of her britches.  "What happened to you?" was my natural remark.

"Oh i just backed in to your brother's sculpture."

"Need I offer a reply?"

eventually, brother returned with his master's degree and an untofore level of smugness in relation to his lofty stature in the art world.  He informed our mother (did not dare tell me) that that thing in the garden should be destroyed. It was never a good quality of work and blablabla.  well, thankfully, by that time, i had cleared a space in the back yard open enough that i was able to put a chain on the thing and drag it with my truck way back.  While i was chaining and dragging, my helpers dug a hole.  A DEEP hole and we celebrated. I don't recall exactly, but i bet we had a few artistically brewed refreshments over the dead body, we were so overjoyed.

Fast forward.  About 5 or 6 years ago, i sold mom's house.  It was sold to one of my son's contractors (son's toys have gotten a whole lot bigger that the toys he grew up on).  the house was remodeled inside (very tastefully with attention to period of original construction  A work of ART might i add).  My son did all of the outside site work.  i asked him if he came across a dangerous piece of concrete with steel rods sticking out in all directions.  He never found it.  My helpers and I had done our job well.  ;)

Tinker
 
ohy, that was tough to watch
If he could only teach us all to use festools to work that fast we could all be retired and wealthy
 
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