Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Rachel Irisa Rivera
There is something very deliberate about this machine. Clearly, its newness precludes it from being a familiar hand-me-down or tenement inheritance (as is too often the case with coffee makers).
But its deliberateness is not a mere matter of having actually been decisively purchased. Rather, its authority it drawn by its stainless steel, shining triumphantly against the pastiness of the all-too-white kitchen. It’s a machine that demands that the rest of the kitchen must eventually conform to it; the room must bend to its look, not vice-versa. The relatively antiquated General Electric oven and the plastic-coated pressed-wood ensemble of cabinets and countertops are not meant to last long. The Cuisinart DCC-2000, on the other hand, has a gravity that serves as statement that things will change. Perhaps one day, this room or another will house countless other stainless steel appliances to match; it’s a promise for the future—a promise the owner made to herself.
And while this machine is very forward-looking, it is also a tribute to the past. The combination of analog and digital controls, the prominence of the circular gauge atop dwarfing an LCD display below, allow us to see more complexity in the person who chose it. The machine, much like its owner, looks backwards and forward, and perhaps Rachel sees time not a succession of separate drops, but perhaps in a very linear and coherent manner. The past is always informing the present and just as the latter informs things to come. Not only would this make Rachel something of a retrofuturist, but also a subscriber to the aesthetics of steampunk—an artistic and fictional movement that is known for its optimism in humanity’s ability to be scientific without losing its sense of style. While steampunk works are often subversive or anti-establishment (hence the “punk” in the name), it is not destructively so.
The maker’s practical qualities should not be overlooked: the drip grate, the absence of a fragile carafe, and the deep, double walled reservoir. Its drip tray makes it looks almost like something that would be found in the food services industry—an industry in which the owner has prolonged experience. The double-walled reservoir keeps the coffee hot for up to four hours, allowing for unexpected changes in plans or a changing number of potential guests. Hence, Rachel adapts to change easily. In lieu of the carafe, coffee is dispensed via a lever and nozzle. This ease of access and the ability to use any container also show her adaptability. “To go” can have the same quality of comfort as staying in. Her living room is wherever life happens to be.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Bobby Boyd - The basket's shape mirrors that of the pot, and the overall effect is like that of a bulbous hourglass. But this is really the machine's sole attempt at beauty. Otherwise, it really lacks any artistic merit. Its top half looks more like a toilet seat and water tank than anything built for the kitchen. This is not meant to be insulting, but rather to underscore the owner's disregard for appearance over function and to highlight his lack of pretension. This maker is about getting the job done. Sure it has some special features, but they sit inconspicuously at the bottom like an afterthought. The LCD screen, tiny buttons, and small text require closer attention than the picture allows to realize the utility's full potential.
The picture is most revealing in what is does not show. The counter is bare--no sugar, no spoons, no signs of use whatsoever. When the cleanliness of machine's environs are combined with its straightforward, purpose-driven quality, we can safely assume that the owner's life is well-lived. It would not be surprising if he employs both an economy of movement and words. If he has a golf swing, it would be tight and controlled and if he were to hook his shot, his reaction would not overstate the magnitude of the moment. Some may see him as a stolid, but what they see as impassiveness or restraint, may in fact be something far more human and principled. To call him "disciplined" may also be a mistake, since that word connotes quelling an inner urge to do something primitive or lazy, as if he is fighting himself to maintain his demeanor. Instead, his personality is one borne of habit and self-assuredness. He will not go out of the way to impress you, but you may find yourself impressed all the more for it.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Jenn Hermus – Had Johannes Vermeer painted coffee makers, he may have chosen this as one of his studies. A shaft of natural light from window bounces and plays off of the bulbous carafe and whitewashes the sill. The placement of the device is as key as the machine itself in our analysis. Its proximity to the window shows that its user is slow to wake and that she must subject herself to as much stimulation as possible to reach full consciousness. You could almost picture her squinting into the new day, assembling her morning cup, thinking about the innumerable tasks ahead of her.
Another seemingly tangential detail that helps in our analysis is the cater-cornered chopstick atop the basket. The utensil undoubtedly serves to clean the permanent coffee filter, and being that it is plastic, it cannot leave behind dangerously small pieces of wood behind. By employing a chopstick beyond its original purpose, the owner reveals that she can be quite crafty at recycling objects to fit new functions—the type who can see potentiality in discarded jars, boxes, dead pens, and other such fodder.
As for the maker itself, this sizable and programmable Proctor Silex usually denotes a sociable and well-organized personality. Even if the owner does not take advantage of all of its features, it still shows a desire for daily order and mindful scheduling. She wants her mornings to be more orderly, to take a different shape than they usually have. For instance, we know that on this particular morning, the ritual was rushed, evidenced by the spilled grounds found at the base of the heat plate and the flecks of sugar on the counter. Even if this morning was somewhat harried, this does not mean that the ends matched the means. Like a painter who lets his acrylics crust on the palette, she may be more concerned with the object of her task rather than her performance in reaching it. In other words, the coffee, in all likelihood, was well-brewed and pleasing. We know this because the level of moisture in the pot and the meager dregs left in it. The apparent contradiction of owning a machine dedicated to order and calculation (notice the dual water windows) with the manner in which it was kept at the time of the photo, may actually reveal genious—the genius of the artist or the mad scientist.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Laura Herbert – The squarish features of this Mr. Coffee show its age as a 20th century machine, before most drip coffee makers took on more aerodynamic and curved designs (This rounded aesthetic presently serves as a mere affectation since household appliances are not mean to be used a projectiles). Its boxy look makes it seem more grounded and practical, giving it a certain gravity of austere utility. Its compact design, including a power switch that doubles as a signal lamp, also adds to its air of practicality.
The owner of this maker shows a sentimentality uncommon to many of our era—a time when many luxuries have become disposable according to fancy and whim. Her dedication to the machine is also a sign of fierce loyalty to the things that work in her life. Look carefully, and you will see the handle of the carafe slightly broken at its nadir, and this too shows her fidelity to her past. The space between the filter basked and carafe does not chafe, making decanting a simple maneuver without jiggling or wedging the pot. She wants her morning ideal, free of struggle.
Perhaps the most telling portion of this photograph is the unplugged power cord betraying a cautious nature. Haunted by images her home smoldering into an ash heap, she is sure pull the plug as a preventive measure. Her anxiety is manageable, but it is always there, even if only dormant, as she goes about her day. While many psychologists earn their paychecks by suppressing anxiety, hers is a somewhat healthy condition as it gives her a sense of responsibility and makes her more observant than those who are careless.
Omar Maldonado – This is the type of coffee maker one sees in a hotel room besides the neatly folded face cloths and wrapped soaps. Therefore, it would not be surprising if its owner felt a certain temporariness when it comes to his home. He likely feels that his place is an in-between stage in life, a prelude to the next leap forward. Though many people (usually single) own 4 ounce coffee makers, this one still has the instructions printed on a sticker along the reservoir and this detail also adds to the sense of that it belongs in a hotel.
The owner chose to photograph his machine with the carafe missing (perhaps in the sink). When you couple this fact with the slightly burned heat plate (perhaps from a neglectful morning), it becomes clear that he works extemporaneously and without strict routine or preparation. He doesn’t mind doing things as they come up. Some may call this procrastination, but more optimistically, it may be a sign of being carefree and whimsical.
Michael Matejka -- The Black & Decker "Brew N’ Go" bespeaks the adventurous lifestyle—the type of man who lets the wind comb his hair as he moves about in his offroader to the next job site or a promising archeological dig. The caveat of this picture, however, that backs us off slightly from this description is the ceramic mug drying by the sink. It seems to contradict the image of the rugged journeyman into a more domestic figure. This contradiction need not negate the owner’s adventuresome qualities, but rather it can show us his complexity and versatility. We assume that this machine made for stainless steel travel mug, yet we see open-brimmed earthenware. This owner therefore may still be on a journey, but an inward one. He knows that the largely unexplored regions of our universe lay not without, but within. He likes to challenge perception, to harness opposite forces into a composite personality; he wants to balance desire with reason. He feels comfortable with paradox, philosophy, and riddles. Despite this comfort, he feels increasingly restless, waiting to replace his ceramic mug with the steel one. His wants to manifest his mental preparation into the physical journey. He is open to Eastern philosophy.
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