The studio is a very very chaotic place. They recently was told that they had top design a 4 story stadium and to be finished before Christmas. They also have a brand new client coming in next week that they want to get into their good graces. They also have that damn cafe that just doesn’t make any sense. They have soooo much going on but they keep pushing and creating and drawing and working, all the while breaking up the day with pleasant chats and laughter. After all, in the face of stress and pressure, what else can you do?
My first week there was mainly focus on settling in and getting my routine down, I am a stickler for routine and predictability. However, in my first week alone, I have done countless of side task from finding samples, to learning about projects, to ordering missing samples, to doing materials boards to hanging pictures on the walls. But the one task that haunts me is the mountain of fabrics which I am in charge of organising.
The pictures do not do my work justice. In one week I have done around 20 bundles of fabrics, each containing 15-30 sheets of different colours and textures.
The process for each bundle is making a pile of similar colours, organising it in a way to make searching for colours easy, cutting a hole into each fabric, stamping a metal frame into each hole, then finally stringing all the fabrics together to make a seamless bundle which can be used in practice.
This work was incredibly independent, separate from the rest of the team which left me sitting alone in the corner of the room. while others would not be happy with these arrangements I quite liked having my one station where I can be consumes by a deliciously repetitive and satisfying task. In the mean time, I listened to the conversations between the designers and passively learning about what they are doing in and out of work.
One of them is being kicked out of their apartment in Christmas despite having agreements to stay until March. Another is getting married and recently got the stone, forged in her home town, for her wedding ring. One of them is having trouble sleeping while another just got a really good massage from a lady a friend recommended to her.
It is a bizarre feeling, watching people in the spot I crave so desperately, working interior designers in a great firm, dealing with the normal happenings like the rest of us.
I always felt defined by my role as an artist. Perhaps they felt this way to. Perhaps I fed into it by simply viewing them as artist when I first joined. Perhaps this humanised them in a way. They are more than their art. More than their work. Like how I am more than a poetry line or more than the mountain of fabrics which quickly defined my role in this studio.
Perhaps there are no roles at all.
Leave a Reply