the last month has been quite a reflective time as i have been busy with a new portfolio website(for all the projects outside zitozza - yes they do exist!) and going through all this work has brought up some memories i thought zitozza readers could be interested in too. in early 2018, i found myself deep in the design project of an astonishingly expensive luxury hotel in the gulf. i was hired for this prestigious project at marcel wanders, tasked with creating a modern take on the mathematically rigorous, geometric patterns of middle eastern tradition.
to achieve the most spectacular details, we weren't hand drawing; we were employing computers to do the generating. the 3D designers used the mandelbulb software to program and create incredible fractals - infinitely complex, computer-generated patterns that no human hand could plot alone. the role of our graphics team was to translate that digital infinity into the real world. we spent months and months of tracing them to translate them to material realities, negotiating with suppliers, navigating this delicate field of "digital craftsmanship" and selecting hundreds of colours for pom sets to turn a a screen's output into a tactile carpet.
mandelbulb generated fractal detail
interestingly, at the time, AI as we know it now was years away, it was perhaps being talked about as a niche interest but definitely not capable of creating what it can do today. yet, working like this, even then, the writing was on the wall: the traditional relationship between human and machine was reversing.
historically, the human did the "creative" drawing and the machine did the repetitive "analogue" manufacturing. today, that is flipping. the computer is becoming the primary generator of complex form, leaving the human to do the heavy, tactile, and time-consuming labour of physical execution.
glass panel visualisation based on fractal details
this brings me back to the zitozza design tool. in a way, the tool (which was itself a collaboration of code between myself and AI) is like a digital box of legos. it allows you to play with infinite configurations and "generate" a personal logic. but the end bit - the actual printing of your rug or the construction of a lampshade - remains stubbornly, beautifully manual.
as i’ve been in the studio this week finishing a made to order lampshade, i’ve felt this reversal quite acutely! the design is a result of a digital system, but the "uniqueness" comes from the friction of the hand-press.
in a world where screens can generate perfection in a second, the value has shifted. the "craft" is no longer in the ability to draw a straight line, the computer has won that race ages ago. the craft is also not so much in the vision any more as generative AI is becoming able to visualise any output in seconds (as illustrated by our banner - created by google gemini based on the text of this blog post.) so the craft is now in the analogue endurance: the labour-intensive process of pressing ink into linen, the subtle variation in pressure, and the time it takes to let things dry.
it remains an artisanal touch that by its nature, cannot yet be automated (or else it would lose its appeal). the machine is already busy doing the "creative" part. but we still are the ones left with the joy of the puzzle.
if you’re up to date with your modernism, i’m sure you will have heard the news already about the heralded bernat klein studio by peter womersley. if you’re new, let me break it to you: it is up for auctionfor a guide price of just £18,000. camper vans are more expensive than that.
but this is a grade A lised building in the scottish borders, currently on scotland’s buildings at risk register - it was already in an awful state in 2016 when i first visited and i can only imagine the state it is in now. as sat derelict since the early 2000s and like so many modernist gems, it’s not only been neglected but overlooked. with its protected status, i do wonder about the real amount of funds required to restore it into anything structurally sound. but one can dream, right?
as many of you already know, i visited this building during my university days as part of a project exploring womersley’s work. it left a deep impression, the proportions, the materiality, the quiet authority of its modernist geometry while retaining the human scales and the airy, cantilevered forms that is such a signature style of womersley’s genius.
and so, naturally, as a brutalist and modernism-obsessed textile designer, it feels like it’s my duty to fantasise about it a little. so i’ve been daydreaming and i’ve created a series of speculative interior visualisations using AI – don’t shoot me for using it, i know fine well these renders are a not a replacement for reality (some prints really do not resemble zitozza at all and don’t even get me started on the cat..), nor is this a serious, budgeted proposal. it’s just a little bit of fun to put some ideas out to the universe and help stimulate the imagination about the building’s future. (or as the kids would call it, “manifesting”…)
in this parallel universe, the studio is lovingly restored not into an airbnb or a “writer’s retreat” (sorry barnabas calder, love your books but we really can do better here.) so in my head i turned it back into a working textile studio instead. my vision is an idea that is only half-selfish, and it would also contribute to the economy and give back to the scottish borders. i’m obviously thinking about zitozza here, but also a space for creative jobs, education, apprenticeships, and professional development. it could be quite a serious place for the textile industry with not only a space for designing, printing and production but there could also be workshops, residencies and exhibitions – continuing the building’s original purpose and klein’s spirit of thoughtful and considered, sustainable design.
okay, yes, the millions required to make it happen are currently in the realm of fantasy… but hey, everyone tells you that to do well in business you need to dream big so that’s exactly what i’m doing.
so, here’s a (completely unbudgeted) proposal. we don't need more holiday houses – we need permanent homes for making and creativity. modernist ideas - egalitarian notions of simplicity, abstraction and rational proportions - need to make a comeback and become mainstream again. spaces where design isn’t just theorised and talked about but physically made to furnish real spaces. achitecture, at its best, can enable that.
these are my ai generated fantasies, but it’s also a bit of food for thought. and hey, if you don’t have the money but want to keep the dream alive you can always just buy a teatowel… but if you do happen to have a few million pounds to spare and a soft spot for brutalist textile utopias, well, you know where to find me!
***edit: serious news! you can actually donate to bring it back to life, open to the public as a design centre - the bernat klein foundation along with the national trust and the scottish historic buldings trust have joined together in a bid to raise funds to acquire it and you can contribute to the cause.***
