Semantics of 3D Form
Lab Spring 2021: Project 3
Materials:
- sea shell
- computer mouse
- clay (additive)
- paper/cardstock (sheet)
- soap (subtractive)
owefhwefwfh whfuhhbuhbe
4.21 — Clay Shell
For my first model, my strategy was to make the main “bulb” of the inner shell, and then to wrap a flat “dough” piece around it to create the rest of the outer volume.
It’s not as apparent in photos, but this method wasn’t very successful. The flat piece was pretty flimsy, and it was hard to maintain its curved shape around the inner piece when I had to keep rubbing, turning, etc. it.
So, I started over, this time creating an indent with my thumb to mimic the inner curve, out of a singular lump of clay instead of two.
4.25 — Soap Shell
soap iteration 1
started soap 1, messed up,
started soap 2, messed up again
went back to soap 1
finished, but realized it was off
soap 3
5.3 — Paper Mouse
5.4 — Crit
Final Refinement + Photos
What I did!
- Clean up the clay shell
- Round out the soap shell a little more
- Shave down the soap mouse a little
- Re-cut components of the paper mouse to fit eachothers’ corners more accurately
Shells
Mouse
More cutie pictures
Reflection
Things I learned
- Plasticine is sticky and soap is very fun to carve! Costco Kirkland soap is the most carve-able soap to ever exist:~~)
- Subtractive method is “simpler” in that there’s a much more linear process BUT it also means you have to be much more careful because there’s no going back from a cut.
- Additive method is more complex because you can ALWAYS (aka FOREVER) add to or change the form.
- Paper is delicate and has a lot of limitations, so the material itself requires a lot of abstraction, intentionality, and decision-making.
I think one thing I learned from this project that will always stick with me is the phrase:
“Your hands can see more than your eyes.”
When I was just looking at my reference models, there was only so much I could understand, even when I peered at it from every possible angle. Dani’s advice was so true — it wasn’t until I felt every surface, every curve, every bump with my actual fingers themselves that I could fully understand the structure and subtleties of the objects.
bonus blurb
It was also during this time that I was doing a lot of thinking for my final project for Photo Design: what I wanted to say, what I wanted to think about, what kind of story I wanted to tell. As someone who’s been pretty set on taking the Products mini for a while now, had applied to a couple art schools for sculpture back in high school, and was really enjoying carving soap (LOL), I realized, along that same vein of being able to see more with your hands — that I really don’t feel as connected to things when I can’t touch, hold, feel them. Perhaps it’s the same reason why I didn’t feel very connected to my Illustrator poster until the print version was in my actual hands, why I chose to hand-make a book for our first Systems project even though it might have been easier to keep it digital, why I’ll always prefer to read something on paper than on the screen — also why I love hugs so much, physical close-ness, why the smallest touches and brushes feel so significant in my heart. As I reflected on the importance of touch and affection for not only myself, but for all humans, I decided I wanted my last photo project to be a love letter of sorts to touch: trying to photograph touch, touch over time, affection, histories of touch, records of love and use and care and wear. Take a look below:)
We think of love and affection of being in the head, in the mind, in the heart — ethereal and abstract and floating around in the air. But I’ve come to the conclusion that love is, in actuality, far more material and physical and tangible than we give it credit for. Affection leaves tangible traces and material records. When something has been well-loved, well-worn, you can tell. Its object tells a physical history of the intersection between touch and time. Also, the reason love isn’t just “in the head” is because it moves and changes and shifts things in the physical, in the material. When someone loves someone else, that emotion doesn’t just stay inside of their head, it manifests into the physical world — they walk to get closer to that person, speak words that affect response, wear out objects that have special meaning to them — the other person’s shirt, a gift, a letter. It changes the things they do with their bodies and hands and finances and time and efforts. It might even change where they end up living and what they look like. Love changes things. Which brings me to this about design: as designers, when we see a problem, our compassion must compel us to make change. It is not enough to “feel” for people that we see are suffering — that emotion must then cause us to make real, tangible, practical changes to those lives. As designers, we must have soft hearts, but also quick minds and nimble fingers.
