mother: [Places plate on table.] Here’s breakfast.
daughter: [Arms-crossed with some attitude.] Just toast? Dad gives me scrambled eggs.
mother: [Places plate on table.] Scrambled eggs…
daughter: [With more attitude and a rude gesture towards the plate…] Plain scrambled eggs? Dad makes it how I want. And to drink? …juice, chocolate or coffee.
mother: [Brings some orange juice.]
daughter: And the whole wheat?
mother: [Frustrated]
Commercial voice: Our breakfasts do not have competition. Only in our restaurants do we prepare you a real breakfast, complete and your way.
[Commercial ends with father and daughter eating.]

This advertisement currently airs as part of the commercial prelude to feature films in Puerto Rico’s movie theaters. Due to its dry humor, its consistent showing during the summer offerings, and the context of the cinematic apparatus, every movie-going person now knows it by heart. The phrase ¡¿Revoltillo pelao?! has become part of everyday conversations.

On a first glance it’s a fairly standard advertisement: short and to the point. Its story relies on contemporary characters and scenarios we can quickly understand, an association it uses to explicitly inform, with a hyperbolical narrative, the benefits of this particular fast food chain. Yet, a deeper look reveals a myth(¹) portrayed by a series of implicit messages which reference a drastic cultural shift in the Puerto Rican understanding of family values: the divorce has been socially accepted.

The unchallenged nature of this advertisement is sad news for the social status quo as it portrays parents competing for the attention of a child, a sequence that feels as the ad’s presumption of relevance (which seems to assimilate too well with observing audiences, almost as modal behavior).

Clearly, the contemporary concept of the nuclear family has changed, but I question the advertising agency’s social responsibility in the creation of this text and its latent functions. Ironically, even though I hope to not have to experience one ever, in many cases I think divorce is a flexible mechanism that can help solve many ills. And yet, as responsible social content creators, advertisers should not place audiences in situations that lead to laughter when it is based on a scenario such as the one portrayed. Designers and communicators have the responsibility to do better. This should be especially true in the field of advertising which is, as Prof Meredith Davis of NC State University says, the most socially relevant of all communication disciplines.

Irresponsible statements in communication only lead to a confused fabrication of ideal behaviors, which in the end lead to superficial and unmeaningful myths.

***UPDATE*** El Nuevo Día reported that the makers of the advertisement have decided to stop its airing.

L’avenir,

For this blog, I currently represent the Future, i.e. an intentional attempt by my brother, Alberto, to (re)invent the content of his page. Yet, what subsequent years hold for us, I do not/cannot know. How will I affect my brother’s design thinking? And – more importantly for my wellbeing –  How will he deflect my way(s) of perceiving the Human Being and its World, which (mis)guides me towards specific problematizations and reconcialiations.

In short, how will l’avenir unravel in Refraction? I can never predict it.

Nonetheless, Refraction will write the evolution of our project. Not only by focusing on different themes, but by seeing how those thoughts bounce back into unforeseen realms. We hope that our thoughts, deflected, will survive.

But what does that mean: that our vestige will survive us? Is it possible? For how long? (Obviously not for eternity.) Derrida asserted: “The trace neither lives nor dies, but survives us.” Such a claim denies existence to the trace, but endows it with a personal utility of extension or continuation of one’s life after death. Yet, this quasi-satisfactory move towards the achievement of immortality (always knowing its implied impossibility) may confuse a reader into believing in an explicit, discoverable link between an origin and its footprint. The trace, always-already disentangled from the origin and henceforth being observed through varying interpretative eyes, can never open the path to recapture an original essence (i.e. thought, feeling, concept, experience, etc.). So, even if MY-trace can never be recovered, my-trace  does not merely survive, but is exists! It has its own existence, endowed by the eye of the beholder. Don’t get me wrong, my writing exists because of me, but continues to be in spite of me. (I hope that the reader nourishes the life of my-trace, to prevent its inevitable death.)

My small book collection at Cornell.

Indeed for me, these times need of introductions. First, because most of you, who have decided to read posts by my rather keen brother, may not know me. Second – I have to admit ­- this would be the first time I bring my thoughts into a blog. And finally, I am getting acquainted with a new setting.

Two weeks ago, I arrived at Cornell University to begin my Masters in Architecture 1. The experience of meeting new people from widely different track records – architecture, furniture design, engineering, physics, business, among others – has been exciting, but has also motivated me to reflect back on my persona. Seeing how many already possess jaw-dropping abilities, I felt compelled to review what I had apparently done right to be accepted into the School of Architecture, Art, and Planning (AAP). Reviewing my application materials, I came across my essay, which began:

“I do not want to study architecture.”          These words quickly became my answer to those who presumed that as the son of an architect and the brother of a graphic designer, I would pursue an undergraduate degree in the arts.

Right there, in the opening sentence I referred (subconsciously?) to probably the most influential artists in my formation: my father and my brother. My family – including my mother and sister – has always been my harshest critic, demanding inconceivable versions of myself. (I don’t know if I heard this from one of my siblings first, but I like to joke around by saying that while in kindergarten, my finger paintings where never pinned up at the refrigerator if ugly.) Nevertheless, I now endeavor to create beauty, mainly out of respect for the work, talent, and dedication of the two designers in my home. I hope one day to feel as their peer.

Let me stress that when the time came to decide whether I would study design for my undergraduate education, I opted for a humanistic education. Shaping my character largely through philosophy, history, and literature significantly altered my perceptions about the world. Therefore, I now enter the M.Arch. 1 with my own set of apperceptions that actually fuel my curiosity. Introducing previously gathered knowledge into my (re)discovered passion towards design, particularly architecture, will hopefully lead to a kind of oneiric experience.

About the possibility of contributing in this blog, this interests me: the chance to expound my preconceptions, challenge my brother’s perspectives as well as mine and of others, amend my way of thinking, and finally, see how my thought process evolves. In the end, the blog will become a trace of deflections in thought.

So, let’s take my first entry as my official act of induction into the website, but my subsequent entries as my attempt to be inducted into a life of design.

A FINAL NOTE TO ANY READER: Consider all my musings as arguments, even if they can be (mis)interpreted as opinions or beliefs. I like to be reminded that usually I use frames that are too small to hold the pictures.

Last week, due to the birth of my nephew Gonzalo, I got to spend some time in the maternity wing of the Auxilio Mutuo Hospital. It was indeed a short time, yet most of it was spent waiting for the baby to make its appearance. I had time to look around. A few things came to my attention, but this particular emergency door stood out the most out of anything else that caught my eye.

An Emergency Door in the Maternity Wing of the Auxilio Mutuo Hospital in San Juan, Puerto Rico.

The subject in question is located on a hallway directly across from the nursery of newborns. As you can imagine, a lot of people congregate in this area. Upon further investigation, four things were of interest to me:

1) The standard, internationally used emergency exit sign;
2) An ink-jet printed sign which informs that this door does not provide access to the ground floor;
3) The familiar red sign that indicates to use this exit in case of an emergency; and
4) A photocopy which explains, in paragraphs, what to do in case of a problem.

Can you imagine what would happen, God forbid, if there was an emergency in this space?

As humans, we rely on the construction, understanding and employment of schemas for the day-to-day operation of our motor behaviors. These are particularly important when it comes to emergency situations, for it is through these schemas that we instantly know, without thinking, to go to the nearest emergency exit. Clearly not thinking about this, the hospital exit is a disaster waiting to happen. If a moment came when there was a true reason for the people inside to evacuate, I can bet you anything that you will get a high concentration of them showing up in this door. Just the standard, official-looking red exit sign will do the trick.

If this were an emergency, I can imagine a few possible interactions that could take place: in a state of panic, people would not read the two home-made signs and spiral down into a dead-end; someone could reach the door and try to read the signs, but the avalanche coming from behind would just push him or her in, again on a path to no exit; or maybe people might stand to read the signs, but others behind them, with no visible access to the text, might get impatient and run to find another way out, thus creating chaos on the space.

An easy fix? Remove the top sign labeling this door as an emergency exit. I think the cost of the electrician that needs to do that job is worth not having a major disaster in a hospital. Or so I would think. If by law this door has to remain labeled (it happens), recognize that there is not easy way for potential users of your signs to manage this overload of badly placed and hierarchically misleading information. Add a graphic or map to illustrate where people have to go. Again, not that much of an investment. If it comes to spending a bit of money, label the floor with a red line that people can follow from this space directly into the right exit.

In the end, more things could be suggested, but it is important to understand how a failure in logical thinking can affect human behavior in ways that can lead to unwanted outcomes.

During the time, I have become aware of the many identities others bestow on me: artist, graphic artist, digital artist, the creative, the person who makes logos, sign-maker, event planner, the guy who did that exhibit on the train, the kid who makes things pretty, web-site maker, and I have even been introduced as an architect. Not once in three weeks has anyone (other than in the office space from which I now work) used the term graphic designer, or even the idea of design to refer to me or to what I do.

In the Puerto Rican corporate and academic spheres that I have been exposed to, the practice of design (even if called by other names) is still seen as, talked about, and referred to as an icing on a cake which provides decoration (and an extra boost of sugar) to an already functional product. Designers are not at the decision table, and I have yet encountered one example of design included in a larger strategic process. The techniques, strategies and tools of design thinking are nowhere to be found. The idea of graphic designers having a process and knowledge of specific strategies that might foster innovation is scarce. Inspiration, creativity and talent are still at the core of the generally accepted understanding of how designers work and come up with ideas.

Amidst this myriad landscape of randomly assigned labels, an interesting constant has come to my attention: no matter how or what I am called, when talking about a potential project, I am always asked for the same thing, to do something different. To create something that has not been seen before. The funny part, at least in my head, is that most of the times I am asked to do this something different but I am shown examples of what I am being asked to do. Isn’t this a contradiction in terms?

This problem is not new, and by no means specific to Puerto Rico. It affects all sorts of structures and communication channels. As a response, the Graduate Design Program at NC State University explored a series of thinking strategies and cognitive frameworks that are part of a designer’s way of working: schemas, situatedness, concept mapping, sketching, prototyping, lateral thinking, morphological thinking, and at least ten others were identified as essential tools for an effective design process.

Almost a year later after the project, I have come to value the work that was done in it. As designers who employ, believe and practice design thinking, I now see the importance of sharing with others some of the intricacies of how we work. It is through this way of working that something different can be made; something different in the sense that it can reach an intended group, communicate a message effectively, and produce change all in a sustainable manner.

More knowledge of design thinking should be made public. Only then will we be able to share how our decisions are strategic and grounded, not at the gut level and arbitrary.

Sounds interesting right? Well, in reality, it is. Yet, being on a constant search for problems to solve brings about a series of problems of its own. The best way I can describe it is that sometimes I find myself in an alternate reality; others talking about the color red and me asking why red?

As a more concrete example, a few nights ago I went to dinner with a few friends to a restaurant that specializes in making sushi with a Caribbean touch (the place adds plantain, alcapurrias, bacalaítos, local fruit sauces, etc). Once the menus arrived, it did not take more than a minute to realize that my friends and I were having a very hard time deciding what to order. Consensus was not happening. The group’s first reaction was to blame me; I had never been, so obviously I was not familiar with the offerings. A debate opened up over the ideal suggestions that I was to be given, and while all of that is going on, I am in my head re-designing the poorly structured piece of information design that has been handed to me by the waitress. Honestly, if the menu’s spacing had been better, I would have understood the offerings much quicker.

In another instance, I recently had the unhappy task of visiting, in person (oh online transactions of the US I miss you so much) one of the offices of the Puerto Rico Electric Company. That place, with not better description, was hell. This was a small room with about 40 people waiting to talk to someone to see if they can be helped. There was bad lighting, no informational signage, 4 service desks but (as can be expected here) only 1 of them offering service, uncomfortable chairs, dirty floors, and a corporate next-turn numbering system that is traditionally used to manage large amounts of people, but here used in a 20 feet by 20 feet area. Some people are yelling, others are yelling on their cell phones, kids are running around, a baby is crying, and in the midst of all of this I am wondering if this company has ever heard the terms experience and service design. That day, I spent 4 hours there, and I came out with my power still not connected, yet, during the first 20 minutes I had come up with about 10 ways to better the service of the location and improve the experience I was having. (and trust me, none of my ideas would cost additional money. It’s all in re-thinking many of the things that were already there.)

In general, I find myself disconnecting from experiences that fail to engage me and such distancing produces an alternate present for me, a space where I try to solve the circumstance in front of me, even if for a second, just so that my head can comfortably rest.

Is this crazy? Hope not. Ok, gotta go to the water company now, can’t wait to re-design that waiting room…

I have to say this was a special event where quality, organization, people, atmosphere, mood, and setting all came together in a composition worthy of utmost praise.

As part of the event, the E. B. Bain Waterworks building served as canvas to varied musical compositions that engaged the senses and added to the mystery and nostalgia caused by the historic structure.

In my opinion, the most captivating aspect was its location. Rebecca Tegtmeyer documented our visit there and has shared some of her images here.

All photos by Gus Pantell.

The early part of the XXth century witnessed the construction of an extensive web of irrigation channels to distribute water to homes and farmlands in Puerto Rico along more than 35 kms. Still in operation to this day, throughout time different individuals and groups have acknowledged the scenic value of these channels; however, to most they remain unknown.

Conceived by the architectural firm, Jorge Rigau FAIA, Architects, the pilot project was designed to garner support from government officials, institutions, and the general public for the development of Isabela’s irrigation channels as a key ecotourism attraction in Puerto Rico. The “canales” travel across plains, mountains, and forests of varying microclimate, flora, fauna, and views. Maintenance paths that run continuously next to them could today be refashioned as nature trails accessible to the general public, children, senior citizens, and handicapped people alike. This pilot project set out to prove the feasibility of this initiative.

After public access to these facilities had been denied for eighty years, one kilometer of channels was opened up for two days, attracting an audience of over 3,000 registered people, including key decision-makers like the Island’s Interim Governor. Environmental leaders and university professors joined the long lines of visitors from all over the Island.Advocacy is often linked to demonstrations, more than often committed to stop something from happening. In our case, we chose to demonstrate otherwise: How something can, in fact, happen. Letters of support have started to come and decision makers – already engaged – have invited us to sit and dialogue. This is what we planned for.

Participants were instructed about the history and design of the irrigation system, how it works, its cultural impact, and the changes endured by the neighboring rural landscape. Oversize words in environmentally-sensitive foam were “sprinkled” along the route to underline key questions concerning both the system and the proposed project: WHAT? WHERE? HOW? WHY? WHEN?

Elements that required a “footnote” from the interpreters were highlighted with an asterisk.

Insertion of texts within the landscape owes much to the reinterpretation of precedents: Robert Smithson’s site-specific works; Jenny Holzer’s linkage of words to movement; Robert Indiana’s supersized treatment of typeface; as well as Dieter Kienast’s joint validation of typographic strokes and counters, using the latter as windows unto the landscape.

Professionals, academics, architecture and landscape architecture students – as well as volunteers – guided tours along the canal to make visitors aware of the potential of these trails from which the Island’s natural landscape and its early-20th century industrial heritage can be enjoyed.

The local Architects and Landscape Architects Foundation funded the pilot project, which included a day dedicated to K-12 schools within the canal region. Participants were requested to fill an assessment form, freely formatted to accommodate ideas, concerns, and recommendations. Upon completing the forms, each person received an informative brochure, specially designed to urge everyone to action.

All photography by Gus Pantell.

[flashvideo file=http://blog.estudiointerlinea.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/Canales.flv width="400" height="266" /]

PROJECT CREDITS

Executed with the support of the Foundation for the Association of Architecture and Landscape Architecture of Puerto Rico and the collaboration of the county of Isabela, the Energy Authority (AEE) and the School of Landscape Architecture at the Polytechnic University of Puerto Rico.

Concept and Project Design Jorge Rigau FAIA, Architects Project Coordination Miguel Ortíz Graphic Design Alberto Rigau, Estudio Interlínea Archaeological Consultant Gus Pantell Construction and Renovation Consultant Beatriz del Cueto Landscape Consultant Maria Isabel Rodríguez

Last semester, before I got interested in consumer behaviors and their repercussions, I explored gesture based interfaces as a possibility for my final project. Today, while organizing my current archive, I found this old copy of the HP Touch Smart ad. It is still impressive.

A few days ago Rebecca Tegtmeyer sent a few friends an email with a challenge to do something like this. It was not until today that I was able to see the link, and to be honest, I just found it too fun to ignore. Since last night I did not get to sleep much, my productivity today was very low, so I decided to give this a shot.

By now, I have shared the video with a few friends which have pointed out many crucial missing moments like the photography from the Option Shift Control Symposium, from our class trip to DC, the Design Band, and others. With all the missing parts I might have to consider Meat Loaf for the soundtrack… hehehe. I will update the file, probably after the Final Project is done. But for now… I hope you enjoy…