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The Conformitory is designed to make safe elements of nature. It acknowledges our desire to connect with flora, fauna and the environment. However, a thorough risk assessment has shown that any contact needs to be controlled. Visit the Conformitory where we process nature to conform to health and safety standards.

Julia Lohmann & Gero Grundmann

Best known for her elegant lamps made from sheep’s stomachs, designer Julia Lohmann will be resident in the Embankment Galleries’ Studio with Gero Grundmann, for ‘The Conformitory: Nature Contained’, as part of ‘Wouldn’t it be nice… Wishful thinking in art and design’.

Working busily from inside a forensic tent, Lohmann and Grundmann will be manufacturing sanitised, ‘health and safety approved’ versions of the natural world – laminated leaves, perfected branches, nut-free nuts and more…

The Conformitory at ‘Wouldn’t it be nice… Wishful thinking in art and design’, Somerset House, Strand London WC2R 1LA, 27 November – 7 December 2008

For press enquiries please contact: Tom.Coupe@SomersetHouse.org.uk

designed for the ‘Designers of the Future Award’ exhibition

The ‘Resilience’ concrete and wool tables on display

My response to the concrete and wool brief set by Design Miami/Basel is based on research into manmade structures that are exposed to the elements, re-conquered by nature and demolished by humans as well as the effects of natural disasters on the built environment.

The concrete and wool objects on show play with a role reversal of qualities we associate with manmade and natural materials. Concrete, which is normally considered a structural and long-lasting material, is cast in two-dimensional forms onto a woven wool backing. Then, in a design process that harnesses destructive force and the ‘undesirable’ effects of decay as a creative tool, the concrete shapes are broken up. Held together by wool, normally deemed the weaker material of the two, the fragmented forms are then reconfigured into three-dimensional shapes and fixed. This process allows the creation of a wide range of unique objects based on shapes cast in a single mould.

A view of my section of the ‘Designers of the Future Award’ display

The high ‘Resilience’ table

The low ‘Resilience’ table

For further information please visit: www.designmiami.com
© Julia Lohmann 2008

Gero spent his last night in Japan in a Tokyo capsule hotel, the pinnacle of anonymous abodes. The tiny pods, stacked like bunk beds, twenty per hallway, in who knows how many hallways on six floors, looked like leftovers from the film set of 2001 – A Space Odyssey. The light of capsule 5008 glowed like the eye of HAL. Guests in this men only establishment are issued with pale blue pyjamas and a towel and then left to their own devices in the maze of the hotel. There are communal TV lounges, baths, and infinite-looking washrooms full of mirrors, probably to counter claustrophobia. Most guests prefer to stay in their capsules though, entertaining themselves with a small TV set with channels ranging from traditional Japanese pottery to hardcore Japanese porn.

Capsule 5008

Somewhere in the infinite washroom

The ever-present ‘No Yakuza’ signs

Today, S-AIR hosted the second salmon skin workshop. Under the expert tuition of an Ainu instructor we learned how to transform salmon skins into supple white leather. After a short demonstration he quickly got us to do the work (especially the two boys in the group) while he supervised with a very dignified air.

So how does Ainu fish-leather-making work? The salmon skins are rolled up and laid in a groove cut into a massive wooden block. Under constant turning, they are then hammered with a large wooden mallet until they are soft. They are then ‘broken’ further in another wooden contraption before the scales can be removed with tweezers or pliers. Et voila – salmon skin leather.

Normally, it takes two days of relentless pummeling before the salmon skins are supple enough to be used for clothing. I think everyone who took part will remember the favourite words of our otherwise monosyllabic instructor for a long long time: “mada mada” [phonetic spelling, probably quite wrong], which translates as “Not yet, not yet” – or more to the point: “Get on with it!”.

To reward everyone for their hard labour we concluded the workshop with drinks and a feast of European and Japanese salmon dishes, followed by a screening of German short films from the Sapporo Short Film Festival showreel.

Our instructor shows how it is done.

Salmon skin about to be pummeled into submission

Mada mada!

Get on with it!

Top: unprocessed salmon skin; bottom left: softened skin, scales partially removed; bottom right: the finished salmon skin leather.

Detail of softened salmon skin, scales partially removed.

The workshop participants tuck into a well-earned dinner.

On a location visit to the building which will house our final exhibition, we discover a hidden apartment including a tatami room and adjoining bath. It is empty apart from a few newspapers dating back to the 1960s. We are speechless when we discover how the bath was heated – with a giant submersion heater! (see below) Later that day we finalise the exhibition layout at Cafe Zill, a cozy local hideaway with lots of lumberjack charm.

The infamous submersion heater…

…and how it is used.

Cafe Zill

What else did we see today? A pet shop which looked more like a dachshund dispenser, selling dogs like fashion accessories…

…and a shop selling canine lingerie.