aesthetics of joy

Can something say “Keep Out!” and still be joyful?

This was the question that popped into my head as I considered the Razzle Dazzle Sculptural Security object, the angular plywood contraption jammed in the window of the house pictured above, by Detroit-based Design 99. The purpose of the Razzle Dazzle (more examples of which you can see below) is to protect empty houses from squatting and vandalization, a common problem in Detroit neighborhoods. An alternative to boarding up doors and windows, the method signifies that someone is interested in looking after a place.

A strong thread of joyful activism runs through all of Design 99’s projects: the brightly-painted Power House, a community space cum sculpture made from a previously empty house, or the Neighborhood Machine, a similarly hued Bobcat with trailers that can be appended for various urban renewal tasks, such as gardening and collecting found material. For these projects, aesthetics of joy such as bright color, stripes, and other patterns catch the eye and raise awareness for urban renewal projects. They also telegraph the spirit of the movement, and offer an exuberant energy that might inspire volunteers and invite onlookers to join in. The aesthetics visually convey the intent of the artists behind Design 99, Gina Reichert and Mitch Cope:

The Power House intends to be a stimulator and not an end in itself as a singular art object. The Power House is a broadcaster of potential ideas and a place to plug those ideas into. The Power House will be used as an interactive site, by us and by our neighbors. The Power House will become a symbol for creativity, new beginnings and social interaction within the neighborhood.

But while the house and the machine seek to invite, the purpose of the Razzle Dazzle is entirely different. It’s a three-dimensional “No Trespassing” sign. So there’s an inherent tension between the spiky, angular form, which articulates (and enforces) the “stay away” message, and the vibrant pattern, which is a visceral enticement. There is also a tension in the way the piece is crafted. The Razzle Dazzle’s form is haphazard, seemingly cobbled together from debris — something you might expect to see at an abandoned site. It looks like it might itself be an act of vandalism. But the deliberate color treatment transforms the meaning of the piece. It says, “Someone put me here on purpose,” and therefore, “Someone cares about this place.”

In this way, the Razzle Dazzle is inviting. Through a splash of color, it offers the promise that a space will be inhabited by people who will care for it and restore it. It’s an invitation to return, suggesting that next time you visit, it may not be an abandoned shack, but a lively business, a vibrant community gathering space, or a home. It’s a joyful “Keep Out,” because it’s also a “Come Back Soon.”

{via Core77}

Power House and Neighborhood Machine

Neighborhood Machine with solar panel trailer attached

Gardening trailer for Neighborhood Machine

Razzle Dazzle Sculptural Security objects

Artist Pete Dungey says of his Pothole Gardens, “If we planted one of those in every hole, it would be like a forest in the road.” Indeed. And a gorgeous, surprising example of urban renewal and joyful activism.

{via for the love of bikes}

Design is at its most effective when it encourages or transforms human behavior for the better. There’s a lot of talk about how we need adopt healthier or more eco-friendly habits. The onus is on us to make the changes, but design can facilitate the behavior and make it easier or more enjoyable to change. Examples abound: the George Foreman grill, dedicated recycling bins, 100-calorie snack packaging. All of these things make it easier to do the right thing. Easier, yes, but not necessarily any more pleasurable, which is where The Fun Theory comes in.

An initiative of Volkswagen, the Fun Theory is a series of experiments that demonstrate how joyful design can encourage positive changes in behavior. In the video above, a staircase goes from being the less-chosen alternative to the escalator to the preferred path after the addition of some giant piano keys. In another video, litter collection rises after an amusing noise is introduced to a public trash can.

The pre/post measurements are striking and really prove the point that aesthetics of joy — through interaction, play, sound, and surprise — can create real, immediate change in the way we live.

{via PSFK}

Nice op-ed piece by Michael Gerson in today’s Washington Post about the “joyful revolution” that the Special Olympics created in our country’s treatment of intellectually disabled people. He writes about the transformation the opportunity to participate and triumph in competitive sport wrought on the cultural understanding of these people, who previously had been “among the most isolated, overlooked and oppressed citizens in America, often hidden in remote institutions, restrained and medicated, unacknowledged by their families.”

“It was America’s most joyful civil rights movement,” he writes, “a revolution of play.” A very powerful tribute, and a wonderful example of the success of joyful activism, which transformed a culture and still continues to transform individuals day after day.

There is a deeply moving recording from a speech given by Eunice Kennedy Shriver on the Special Olympics website right now. It’s only about a minute and well worth a listen.

WP: The Joyful Revolution

There is so much to love about The Uniform Project, a joyful experiment in charitable, sustainable fashion. Inspired by the plight of over 7.5 million children living in Indian slums who do not get to go to school, Uniform Project founder Sheena Matheiken has challenged herself to wear the same dress every day for a year. Each day she donates $1 to the Akanksha Foundation which educates children from the slums in Indian cities.

This is a great example of joyful activism, where people are finding a way to raise awareness for causes through positive emotion and an aesthetic to match. One of these days I should do a mood board to illustrate the contrast between the old aesthetic of activism (lots of red, graphic protest posters, fields of tree stumps, animals caught in traps, etc.) and the emerging aesthetic of joyful activism (bright colors, dancing, hot pink garbage bags, seed bombs, crocheted signpost covers, etc.). Both styles obviously have place in the arsenal of persuasion, but it’s great to see the evolution of this inspiring new style of activist communication. A skeptic would say that fashion and aesthetics are incidental to the cause at hand, but look at how much money she has raised ($4,308 at this point), and even more important, how much awareness. Far more than if she’d just sent around one of those Facebook causes requests we’re all so sick of.

I also think this is a huge lesson in sustaining joy over time through creativity. The “uniform,” a simple black dress, presents itself as a canvas, one that Matheiken adorns largely though recycled accessories from her own closet and places like eBay and Etsy. The Uniform Project surprises and delights us not with what’s new each day, but how the new elements transform the basic dress into something different. With a scavenged doily as a collar or a bow or a headscarf, Matheiken shows us a new perspective on something we thought we already knew, and this rediscovery is deeply joyful.

This is this challenge before us, when it comes to making things not just physically sustainable but emotionally sustainable. We have to find ways to take existing spaces, objects, relationships and infuse them with new life using the things we already have, renewing the joy we felt when we first acquired them by allowing us to see them in new ways. This project is a wonderful reminder that a creative spirit and a joyful attitude can really make such magic happen.

via Daily Candy (great video too!)

Joyful activism is a theme that keeps popping up these days. Rather than angry protests, a lot of people are realizing that a good way to effect change is to make people feel good.

I love this project, the Bed Stuy Meadow, by 21st Century Plowshare, the goal of which is to cover every vacant patch of land in the somewhat rough-and-ready neighborhood with wildflowers. Joy is at the heart of the activist premise:

The profusion of wildflowers will probably be relentless and visually unifying, and this relentless unity of wildflowers will probably make anyone walking down the street feel really good.

And the designer here recognizes that such positivity can have a contagious effect:

I want people who don’t even live within the five boroughs to visit Bed Stuy for the first time so that they can see the Meadow with their own eyes, and I want people who will never even come to be so inspired by the Bed Stuy Meadow that they make their own amazing neighborhood project and share it on 21st Century Plowshare.

Guerrilla actions such as this one have a much greater likelihood of success when the tone is positive. In a way, the Bed-Stuy meadow is a form of graffiti, the exertion of one person’s artistic will over a communal environment, but who can object to flowers? I think we’ll be seeing a lot more initiatives like this one in the coming years.

via PSFK

I love this project, called TRASH: any color you like, by the artist Adrian Kondratowicz. The project involved getting local businesses in a particular area to put out their trash in these specially designed hot pink polka-dotted bags. Typically we pass by piles of garbage bags on our city streets without blinking, but these are so strikingly different, we can help but take notice. And in the process, the artist hopes, we’ll reflect on just how much trash we throw away.

I love this because it’s one of many examples of what I see as a new trend in social and environmental advocacy: joyful activism. Joyful activism looks to incite changes in behavior not by scaring or shaming people, but through the power of positive emotion. I can’t help but think that when we’re made aware of an issue through this kind of joyful disruption, we receive the information with a different level of openness, and that we might just be more receptive to the idea of change.