Chey | ♥
Top-draw amazingness.
Little bits of paraphernalia that makes the design world go round.
Friday, 19 August 2011
THE CONCERTO TABLE | Grand Dining
This piece of furniture is a symphony in itself. Created for the music enthusiasts out there, the Concerto Table allows you to enjoy the shape of an extraordinary instrument while having dinner or working at your computer. A classic design was exactly what the creative minds from Lovegrove and Repucci thought of when making the table. Modern technology triumphed once again – the table has an iPod dock that perfectly replaces the one thing this piano table doesn`t have: music. Your dinner parties will never be the same again and your guests will be astounded by the beauty of this Concerto Table. Elegant drawers hide flatware underneath the table while a part of the surface raises to imitate a real piano. Bringing an interesting experience to say the least, the Concerto Table “seeks to transform the experience of the modern dinner party by combining the use of a dining table with the elegant curvature of a grand piano.”
Wednesday, 20 July 2011
CONCRETE | Jungle
JOURNEYING THROUGH THE CONCRETE JUNGLE. The fact that we went through and "paved paradise to put up a parking lot" as Counting Crows in Big Yellow Taxi so eloquently put it, yet nature still fights for it's rightful place in our well-adapted ecosystem. Don't get me wrong (as contradicting as it may seem), I enjoy designing with concrete; it's rough, raw consistency amazes me. However, it is only polished off once coupled with white Phalaenopsis' or a bouquet of yellow daisies (I hypothesise it is nature's way of playing on our subconscious saying: "Hello! I am still here!").
Thursday, 7 July 2011
ARCHITECTS | Furniture designers
Eero Saarinen
Tulip Chairs
Alvar Aalto
Bent Plywood Chair
Charles Eames
Eames Chair
Charles Mackintosh
Hillhouse Chairs
Gerrit Rietveld
Red and Blue Chair
Ludwig Mies Van Der Rowe
Barcelona Chair
Marcel Breuer
Wassily Chair
LeCorbusier
Armchair
Tuesday, 5 July 2011
WMI | Inspiration for the Sophisticated
For the modern designer...
http://www.wmi.co.za/domestic/index.html
http://www.wmi.co.za/domestic/index.html
HAMLET SOLILOQUY
HAMLET: To be, or not to be--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles
And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep--
No more--and by a sleep to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep--
To sleep--perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia! -- Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.
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