Our everyday lives are increasingly intertwined with the digital. But are brands succeeding at welcoming customers to their virtual spaces? Some are forging enticing new pathways, writes regular columnist Justin Zhuang
Flame wars, social media envy and fake news are just some examples of how the online world can incite emotions – often by design. Interactions that encourage snap judgements and the ease of them going viral has resulted in highly emotive spaces that are often polarising too. The digital revolution has not only disrupted how we interact as individuals but also with brands. On the one hand, brands can have deeper and more meaningful conversations with their customers. But they also have to be on their toes. A single angry customer rant or a misstep by a brand can be amplified quickly and often disproportionately, if not dealt with correctly.
➜ Read the full column in CUBES #99 — Emotive Spaces
The designer is becoming endangered. The individual who marries form and function to produce physical things — such as books, automobiles, clothes, interiors and buildings — has been reclassified by some as the “classical” designer in recent years. Judging by how popular “classical music” is, the new term suggests that the designer as we have long known is increasingly regarded as a thing of the past, or even worse, archaic.
But far from going extinct, the designer is undergoing a redefinition because of the profession’s growing status. Once regarded simply as technicians who supported industrialisation, particularly in making products visually attractive, designers have since climbed their way into corporate boardrooms, and even the offices of policymakers. This has been fuelled in part by a frustration with the status quo and in response to technological disruptions in the profession. As the act of designing has become more accessible with software and templates, designers have been confronted with the existential question of who they really are.
➜ Read the full column in CUBES #98 — Working with Intent
When a landscaped pedestrian mall was introduced along Orchard Road in the 1970s, it seemed like a perfectly good idea. A tree-lined retail boulevard would bolster Singapore’s then emerging ambitions to become a ‘Garden City’, and offer shoppers shade as they went from mall to mall. Today, the stretch (over two kilometres long) is invaded by thousands of birds. Roosting on the canopies of the Angsana trees, the birds poop on the mall, terrorise patrons at the alfresco cafes and declare their presence every evening with a deafening cacophony.
A greener environment has made Orchard Road ‘A Great Street’ (as its tagline goes) not just for people, but ‘pests’ too. As urbanscapes become increasingly designed with and for nature, such conflicts are sure to grow. Trees and shrubs are not objects designed for users. Nor are they simply another material on a mood board. These living organisms are part of an ecology that architects, designers, clients and users must become more aware of for us to truly live in works that embrace nature.
➜ Read the full column in CUBES #97 — Re-Nature (Oct/Nov/Dec 2019)