Fundamental Principles

Function as a Restraint

The aim is to eventually design with your imagination in charge. But there is one primary restraint upon the imagination that I must discuss first. Function! A piece of furniture is a functional piece of art. If it severs its alliance with function, it ceases to be furniture and becomes art alone (well, maybe—art being a point of debate).

Function brings with it restrictions that vary in flexibility. It often dictates size and shape. Sometimes the purpose of the piece is to store or display things, and this dictates the doors and drawers. Restrictions, to some degree, can be a good thing. They narrow down the possibilities to provide a solid starting point with fewer distractions. Other times, however, they may feel too limiting and present challenges that demand unavoidable compromises.

Ergonomics is a characteristic of function that you cannot escape. As an example, consider how the pieces of a dining set work with the human form and in turn with one another. The seat of the chair must be high enough for the average person to plant their feet on the floor comfortably—this is normally seventeen to eighteen inches. Given the seating height of a typical person, the table height is generally set at about thirty inches. With these parameters in place, the knees need to clear the table apron as well as all structural members of the base. Then there is the matter of elbow room. Depending upon the situation, the dimensions pertaining to these functions can vary. And there could be more criteria to consider as well—there is more ergonomic information than can be put to memory. An essential resource for any furniture designer’s library is a reliable book on ergonomics. My go-to book, as I’ve mentioned, is Panero and Zelnik’s Human Dimension and Interior Space. There are many other such books available.

Function can sometimes present challenges—especially if competing criteria are at odds with one another. Design then becomes a balancing act. Sometimes these challenges can spark inspiration, and the solution seems to come out of nowhere. Other times intuition (good taste) is needed. Design becomes a matter of throwing out multiple ideas and letting your intuition be the filter. And then sometimes there are no good answers, and the solution comes down to the best-fitting compromise.

When a client commissions furniture, they may place functional restraints—ones not covered in ergonomic books—upon the design. But a client does not necessarily think in terms of ergonomics and often does not present its considerations as part of their list of functional restraints. It is imperative for you to fully understand the function of the piece and to ferret out all those dimensions that relate to function. It is your charge to ask all the right questions concerning function. Experience, often in the form of mistakes and omissions, will eventually guide you to recognize which questions to ask.

So, let’s go back to our example of the dining table. One obvious question is, how many people will the table seat? But more information is needed. Will the seating be snug or leisurely (this makes a difference in table size)? What is the size of the room in relation to the size of the table and the clearance around nearby objects? While the answers to these questions will be particular to the commission, they should be influenced by information in a good ergonomics reference book.

It pays to be proactive in thinking through the function of a piece. A missed dimension that affects the function is much easier to rectify in design than in construction. Once you account for the functional restraints, you can get down to the business of being creative!

Designing with Gravity in Mind

Gravity is something that we are all immersed in. It’s one set of rules we cannot escape. The effects of gravity permeate how we see the world—right down to our subconscious. Visual weight (as opposed to actual weight) is how our minds perceive an object in relationship to gravity. Actual weight may or may not coincide with visual weight. It’s all about perception. If visual weight is amiss, we pick up on it instinctively.

Take for example the Rainier Tower in Seattle, completed in 1977. Modern construction techniques allow it to visually defy our notion of gravity. The tower sits upon a base that starts out narrow and becomes wider as it rises. Because of our understanding of gravity, our minds are conditioned to view this arrangement as not structurally stable. Stand near or under this building and our brains send an emergency message to our bodies—run for your life, this thing is going to fall!

Recently my granddaughter Hailey was in Seattle for a visit. I planned to take a photo of the Rainier Tower for this book, then take her to the Chinese Room at the top of the Smith Tower (completed in 1914 as the tallest building west of the Mississippi) just a few blocks away. But standing at the base of the Rainier Tower alarmed Hailey. She lost all confidence in very tall buildings—no visit to the observation level of the Smith Tower that day!

We would never feel in danger of structural collapse standing at the base of the Egyptian pyramids. We perceive them, with their large supportive bases, as being quite stable and certainly not in danger of toppling.

Nature is replete with examples of gravity at work on design. Consider the whippet and the bulldog. Each is tailored to comply with gravity, but in a different way. The whippet, with its long legs, is lean and sleek. This relationship with gravity greatly favors speed. The bulldog, on the other hand, is exceedingly stout and muscular. It’s relationship to gravity greatly favors brute strength. Imagine the whippet and the bulldog competing at the racetrack. It doesn’t take much imagination to predict the outcome. Conversely, imagine the two dogs in a tug-of-war. No heavy lifting for the imagination on this one either.

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Our notion of gravity is so ingrained that we intuitively know which dog would perform better at which contest.

Whether we consciously know it or not, we view furniture design in much the same way. For instance, think back on my discussion of the primary mass and its ratio. The ratio of a primary mass sets the tone for the visual weight of a piece. The closer to square (1:1), the more the primary mass resembles the bulldog. The further you move away from square and the closer you get to something that appears thinner, the more the mass resembles the whippet.

Perceived Strength

My perception of visual weight relates to more than simply the volume or shape of a mass. Another factor I consider is the inherent ability of the structure to withstand the forces of gravity—its perceived strength. A big, square, solid mass exhibits considerable weight-bearing capacity. But structural elements can also be employed in a manner to significantly increase the conception of weight-bearing capacity. Visual weight factors in the inherent ability of a design to withstand gravity. There are an infinite number of ways in which a design can, subtly or not so subtly, work to enhance the inherent visual weight of a piece.

A crucial point of a design is where it comes under the influence of gravity—that is, the floor. This point of interaction is very instructive. If done correctly, the contact enhances the relationship of weight to the design. If done without forethought, though, it can create confusion. We may not consciously be aware of this, but intuitively we perceive that something is awry.

Let’s look at a heavy column, which is meant to support a massive weight. You don’t have to see the top of the building to feel the massive support this column provides. What I want to draw your attention to is the base (plinth)—this is where the action takes place. The column visually transfers the enormous weight from above and deposits it at the base. The base in return broadens and adds mass to accept and shoulder the weight from above. Again, this is something we intuitively know. By enhancing what you perceive as weight-bearing capacity, you imply strength.

Negative Space

Visual weight of a piece is affected by both its primary mass and negative space. Negative space is the area of an outline that is not filled in substance. In a literal sense, it is nothing! Think back to the example of the whippet and the bulldog. Imagine the side profiles of each dog. How much of that profile is solid material (dog matter)? How much of the profile is empty? That empty portion is the negative space. The more negative space and less solid mass in an object, the less pull gravity can exert upon it. The converse is true as well. The less negative space and the more solid mass an object has, the more gravity has claim to it.

Negative space can be manipulated to influence the visual weight of a design. Visual weight, like many things in life, is not a binary thing. It’s not simply an issue of black or white. It exists in endless shades of gray. And, within those shades of gray, there are a myriad of subterfuges you can employ to tweak it in one direction or the other. Let’s look at some practical examples.

I’ll start with a chair designed by George Hepplewhite. If you were to draw a rectangle around the outer edges of this piece, you would find that it decidedly comprises more negative space than solid substance. Gravity’s grip on it is slight. It feels light and airy. Its structural support appears to be at a minimum (its actual structural requirements are more demanding).

Focus your attention on the point where it meets the floor. Notice that the legs taper downward and reduce in diameter as they get nearer this point. Now notice the foot at the very bottom of the leg; the visual weight of the entire piece comes to rest and is contained

This George Hepplewhite chair appears to be very light, with a lot of negative space and delicate elements.

GEORGE

HEPPLEWHITE, THE CABINET-MAKER AND UPHOLSTERER’S GUIDE (THIRD EDITION, 1794; REPR., NEW YORK: DOVER, 1969) in the feet (just as it is in the column). The feet are delicate but matched well to their task. There is so much negative space in this piece that it almost wants to float. The tapered legs and delicate feet lend to the perception of the merest gravitational force—if gravity had much less hold on this chair, it would surely drift away. Hepplewhite took advantage of the negative space to push the chair design to the near maximum of lightness and delicateness. But an abundance of negative space does not necessarily dictate that a design lacks visual weight. Just as there are ways to manipulate the details in one direction, there are ways to pull it in the other. Gustav Stickley’s No. 623 Table has more negative than positive space, yet you certainly would not describe it as delicate. Stout would be more apt. Stout and delicate suggest opposite directions, and the Stickley piece relates to gravity in a much different manner than the Hepplewhite piece does. The No. 623 Table appears overbuilt— it’s the table version of the proverbial brick (you know what). Its hefty legs and the substantial stretcher/shelf connecting them speak of an abundance of support—far more than required for the table’s intended use. You Gustav Stickley’s No. 623 Table has a lot of negative space yet appears very stout. RAGOARTS.COM instinctively perceive that this piece can withstand the force of gravity much better than the Hepplewhite piece can.

Implied strength is a tool that can be used to adjust a design to its intended relationship to gravity. Hefty or surplus structural members and exposed joinery are some ways in which to add visual weight and strength to a piece. To reduce the visual weight, you can do the opposite—minimize structural members and eliminate overt displays of strength.

Ploys and tricks have their limits, though. Typically, more positive space means more intrinsic visual weight and more negative space means less intrinsic visual weight. Intrinsic visual weight is a limiting factor in how effective a ruse can be.

Positive Space

We have looked at designs with an abundance of negative space. Now let’s look at a few designs with mostly or all positive space.

An abundance of solid mass and absence of negative space establish the visual weight of Gustav Stickley’s No. 840 Sideboard (image 4-8). The details do not push or pull the piece’s inherent visual weight, but simply work in harmony with it. The base spreads out beyond the case to provide ample footing. The top, as well as the hardware, are hefty and in harmony with the piece. The drawers are bottom weighted, as befits the design.

For comparison’s sake, let’s look at a couple of other Gustav Stickley sideboards and see how the visual weight compares. The No. 814 Sideboard (image 4-9), unlike No. 840, features a small amount of negative space, which serves to lighten the visual weight of the piece. The design still exhibits plenty of solid matter. Yet overall, the piece is lighter than the No. 840 Sideboard.

The structural features of No. 814, while adequate to the mass, do not work to increase the visual strength of the piece beyond its apparent needs. Turn your attention to the legs. They are adequate to support the given weight—but no more than that. If they were thinner the design would feel anemic. They do not contribute to a feeling of increased strength—just enough to get the job done. Now notice the front bottom rail (beneath the bottom drawer). Again, this structural member serves to adequately support the structure—but nothing more.

Next, see that the top has a slight overhang on the body. I see this as a device to subtlety reach out and pull the primary mass along with it—thus making the mass slightly thinner and lighter. Last, the negative space of the plate rail contributes to the lightened visual weight.

Gustav Stickley’s No. 817 Sideboard (image 4-10) has negative space as well—but the visual weight plays out much differently. This piece has a heavier feel to it than No. 814

Image 4-9: The small amount of negative space of Stickley’s No. 814 Sideboard serves to lighten the visual weight of the piece.

Image 4-8: An abundance of solid mass and absence of negative space establish the visual weight of Gustav Stickley’s No. 840 Sideboard. RAGOARTS.COM

Image

Stickley’s

Sideboard has a decidedly heavy feel to it, and to my eye is heavy to a fault. RAGOARTS.COM