Sharing the steering on the road to a unique project
From rough to refined. Rough sketches impart an idea, while scale drawings provide a real-world path. Finally, a full-size mock-up lets you take your ideas for a spin before committing to the real thing.
It started with an easily answered question from my editor. “Want to design a wall-mounted desk for our readers?” Well, sure. I like desks and small, wall-hung cabinets, and I love designing furniture. Paul said “Great, why don’t you research what’s out there, and then send me a few sketches?” And with that, we were off to the design races.
To get the inspiration flowing, I hit the books and the Internet, sketching out rough ideas as I went. (Yes, you can too, since even caveman-style drawings are fine at this point.) A couple of hours online plucking photos of various wall-hung desks, and some time leafing through select woodworking reference books yielded plenty of design fuel. After fleshing out the sketches with elements that I liked, and adding some of my own ideas, I sent the material to the other half of the pit crew. Although Paul lives five states away, modern technology allows speedy collaboration via e-mail, texting, and old-fashioned phone calls.
Good thing, because teamwork really pays off in the next step, which was to reconcile form and function—to make sure that the piece not only looks good, but works well. On our own, we can become too myopic for this, especially after so much self-reflection. Fortunately, my editor is also a furniture designer and maker. So, with twice the talent, we more than double our mileage. And collaborations often steer us out of our own safety zone toward innovation.
Abiding by the old design edict “form follows function,” we began by reviewing the engineering: Is the work surface large enough to accommodate most laptop computers and a pad of writing paper? How can we hinge the door/desktop to support computer and elbow weight without adding chains or other intrusive hardware? How deep does the internal computer storage “pocket” need to be? Drawers? No drawers? How do we manage power cords? How should we hang the thing? It’s a lot to decide by yourself.
Having determined the basic size and necessary components, it was time to refine the aesthetics by gauging shapes, visual weights, and proportions, which was largely my purview. For example, should the case have thicker sides, and thinner partitions? Can we get curvy without getting complicated? As to the sides, why not add the racy geometry of an accelerating ellipse instead of a predictable arc? I find that success very often lies in simplification rather than adding things. After I finished a set of basic drawings, Paul and I reconvened to make sure we hadn’t gone off track with the basic idea.
At this point, I took the back seat while he began the build. Given the complexity of the design, we had decided that it would be wise to first unleash our ideas in three dimensions by cobbling together a plywood “proof-of-concept” prototype. This allowed testing the strength and utility of the unit, as well as certain construction techniques. In the process, new design opportunities emerged, resulting in yet more collaborative fruit: A new hinging scheme? Of course! Why didn’t we see that from the beginning? Build and install the cubbies separately? That sure makes things easier. Router templates that create perfect symmetry in both shape and joinery? Perfect!
This story has a happy ending in the form of the beautiful desk you see in the article here. And I suppose the moral is simply that good design—which often involves a circuitous journey to the finish line—is a drive worth sharing.
