What would Mondrian have done?
As with the Schrőder house, one only has to say the name of the designer and the category of the output in order to identify the particular building and the unique chair. 'Rietveld's house' refers to the Schrőder house at Prins Hendirklaan in Utrecht, constructed in 1924: see - https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2021/02/rietvelds-schroder-house-utrecht-seeing.html 'Rietveld's chair' refers to the Red and Blue chair designed in 1923. Both are landmarks of Modernism, prime examples of the De Stijl movement that included the artists Piet Mondrian and Theo van Doesburg.
The Rietveld chair is always an amazement for the eye with its defined, lapping intersections that allow the celebration of the identity of each separate element. All the joints are self-evident in their intent and structural logic, with simple, straightforward, solid connections making 3-D Mondrian-like patterns. Things get a little different with the sloping planes, the red and blue panels of the back and the seat. There is an elegance here that needs scrutiny to see if it can be sustained by the detail.
The panels appear to lie loosely over the frame, but there are obviously fixings to locate them. One can see the fixings illustrated on the drawings, if only as locations.## What are they? As the panels neatly touch the frame only on its edges, as an alignment in a drawing, do the fixings crudely bridge the triangular gap left between the panel and the frame? While the chair seems to delight in its structural clarity, and the precise geometric relationship and organisation of its various parts, all the fixings are concealed, creating the illusion of a 'look no fixings' magic, giving the chair its special delicate tensions and crisp De Stijl elegance with its deliberate pattern-making that structurally becomes a place to sit.
The solid certainty of the self-bracing triple intersections of the framing, where concealed fixings can be simply acknowledged, envisaged logically, gives way to a tricky balancing act where panels are somehow secretly fixed to the framing's fine edges as they lie precariously on the corners of the timber sections, levitating, as if ready to slide off; held mysteriously in eternal suspension as they offer to accommodate the body, welcoming it. Just what are these fixings? Why do they become so concealed as a structural solution when everything else is clear, explicit, with the formal declaration of the parts, their wholeness and juxtapositions?
The drawings on-line illustrate chunky, traditional timber dowels at the 3-way junctions, but there is nothing as clear as this in the detailing of the fixings of the seat and back: generally, if shown at all, just two dots are drawn on each framing piece as it is crossed by the panels.
As with the house, the chair seems to be carefully photographed. It is very difficult to find an image of the rear or the underside of the chair that will show the fixings of the panels that holds them to the edges of the framing. One can only visualise an awkward, intrusive fixing at this location, a detail that has none of the satisfaction of the easy fit of the connections of the stylish framing.
Only one single panel-fixing detail has been seen illustrated on-line in the very many drawings of this chair. This detail shows dowel fixings, two on each frame support, with each dowel at 90 degrees to the plane of the panel. The seat dowel passes into the top face of the supports; the back panel dowels pass through into the vertical face of the framing. The dowels are illustrated as finishing flush with the face of the panel. This detail does mean that, on a close inspection, the dowels can be seen bridging the gap between the panel and the frames - a most unfortunate resolution for the visual and conceptual precision of the 'De Stijl' style that delights in its exact junctions, precise resolutions, and decisive juxtapositions. What might Mondrian have done? It seems that the chair has been assembled using the cabinet maker's traditional dowel details everywhere - no screws or nails; just timber framing, panels, dowels, and glue, probably a casein glue. There are no 'hi tech' solutions in this chair that challenged the norm, presenting a new vision for the world only in its form.
It seems to be a reasonable outcome, but there appears to be a compromise with the De Stijl ideal; a lack of conceptual exactness and elegance in the resolution, shaping a vision achieved with the crafty crudity of necessity, maybe one that uses the classic contractor's argument - "You'll never see it!" - for its justification; and one doesn't unless one turns the chair upside down, as every chair lover must do. A chair should never be gauged by its appearance alone: one needs to check its integrity; its 'internal' rigour: Kandinsky called it "internal necessity." The seat dowels seem to challenge the De Stijl vision with what appears to be their clumsy, ad hoc fit.
The drawings for this chair that are on-line seem to recognise the problem. While everything else is sized and detailed, the connection between the panels and the frame is generally ignored - even Rietveld's own drawing fails to indicate this critical detail. Was it left as something "to be worked out on site"? - see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2019/02/building-dreams-how-to.html - as one of those awkward matters that one does not wish to tackle in case it spoils the wonder of the whole?
Everyone should know that these problems never go away, and are never made easier with time. The only change in the circumstance is that others will be involved in the final decision; one can then always blame someone else, or create the excuse of necessity: "We had no other option," with the 'we' being the important change. It is far better to grapple with the implications of the situation and be prepared to change anything at the design stage, rather than postpone the inevitable. If a problem is sensed, one should always know that it never disappears. Imagine an engineer designing a bridge with this 'work it out later' approach.
One can envisage the situation in the craftsman's workshop once the lovely frame had been made and the panels cut: "Now, how do you want me to fix these panels?" Did Rietveld stand there and think how he had asked himself this question some time ago, as he replied: "What do you think? What would you do?" Did he cringe at the solution offered, one that he had previously rejected: "I'd use the dowels you detailed for the other joints; just drill them into the frame at an angle."
Did Rietveld ask if there was any better solution, and shrug with an "OK then, if that's the best you can do"? Might the craftsman have responded with the cliche: "You'll never see it. We'll use some filler over the dowels just like those in the frame, and end up with a lovely flush surface. It is being painted isn't it?"
One wonders: what colour are the dowels painted? Do they become the black of the frame, or the red and blue of the panels they hold? It might seem a trite question, but the whole chair is all about the clarity and identity of its parts. Could the dowels possibly be yellow? What should they be?
##
It is interesting to note that most of the drawings on-line that show the panel fixing locations, illustrate these incorrectly. They show the back fixings in the centre of the framing in both plan and elevation, when the fixings should only be close to this location in the front elevation, not in the plan view of the back.
NOTE:
The drawings show the chair's framing as 1 inch by 1 inch, finished** - some show it as 30mm x 30mm. The dowels are indicated as being a half inch diameter, far more substantial than the usual one quarter inch dowel that is typically used in twos or threes. The 1" x 1" is to small a cross section to have two dowels, so it seems that the half-inch dowel has been used for strength.
Sketching the detail to explore the issues shows that the more stylish, perhaps more 'De Stijl' detail for fixing the seat and back of the chair is to use dowels at right angles to the face of the framing, on its centre line. This adds a difficulty with the drilling of the panels, as the holes will have to be drilled accurately at the correct angle through these planes.
Fitting the dowel at 90 degrees to the panel is a simpler process, but it leaves the dowel awkwardly angled into the frame, with an ad hoc relationship to the piece being fixed to, giving a detail that lacks the stylish finesse of the resolution seen in the rest of the chair.
**
1" x 1" might sound small; but as I wonder about this my eyes focus onto a traditional Shetland chair at the nearby table. Its legs are nicely turned and terminate in a fine 25mm diameter foot, with the upper part of each leg joining the seat with a slightly smaller radius, forming completely adequate supports.
NOTE:
The relationship between the panels and the frame reminds one of Utzon's comment made to Rick Leplastrier - "One should never use a mitre. No material should be taken to infinity" - see: https://voussoirs.blogspot.com/2015/01/richard-leplastrier-ephemeral.html Rietveld does not use a mitre: indeed, the framing is a marvellous example of explicit junctions. The joint between the frame and the panels is, however, much like dealing with a mitre, where the very fine edge of the square section is used for support. (The mitre uses the fine edge to create the corner point). While this is all visually satisfactory - one is pleased with the integral play of the lapping corner alignments in the chair that make the eyes dance - the problems with this sophisticated relationship become clear with the fixing of the panels.
See also: https://www.instructables.com/How-to-Make-the-Not-Red-Blue-Chair/
REITVELD CHAIRS
Reitveld designed many chairs: here are some more.
The Crate Chair DIY: https://www.popularwoodworking.com/projects/crate-chair/
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.