Back to Basics: Y Stool
Without the check of visible and palpable things, the spirit in its high-flown arrogance would be sheer madness. The body is the tutor and policeman of the spirit. – Jose Ortega y Gasset
During the first long months of the pandemic, I spent my days facing a glowing screen, every thought and action mediated by hardware and software. I was incredibly fortunate to be safe, healthy, and employed. But as the weeks wore on, I craved to make something tangible with my own hands, without computer, client or collaborators. I wanted to come down from the cloud and get back to earth. And so, a few months after lockdown, I started to design furniture. Through sketches, physical models and mockups, I returned to simple forms from introductory classes decades ago: the triangle, circle and square. I hoped to clarify my thinking, sharpen my skills and find joy (or at least solace). “Y Stool” was the first product of this self-generated design “exercise regimen.”
Furniture and Architecture
A piece of furniture is an extension of the body in space. Its form is usually associated with a specific human posture and purpose. It must support itself and is usually made of several elements that are connected to each other. However, its proportions, materials and details transcend simply serving a need; they embody the values of the culture and designer. The design of furniture, just like the design of architecture, balances many interrelated constraints; a successful piece of furniture is the Vitruvian triad of “firmitatis, utilitatis, venustatis” (strength, utility, beauty) writ small. Because furniture is less complex than a building, these parameters may be studied in a more focused way to rigorously explore and express ideas. However, the goal is not a universal solution; the history of furniture is diverse and there are many examples of different designs that successful serve a similar purpose.
Design is Inquiry
The design process for Y Stool was framed by questions that elaborate upon and distill essential qualities originating with the triangle. How does its form correlate with its function? Who is it for and how does this determine its complexity and cost? How is the material(s) from which it is made used in a manner consonant with its properties? How are the elements of which it is made connected to each other? How do the details associated with its assembly reinforce its qualities? How might the fabrication process relate to the geometry? An overarching consideration was economy of means such that contrived, extraneous or unnecessary elements are eliminated. My goal was to elegantly resolve the design, on its own terms, to achieve resonance between “what” and “how” and “why.”
Origin Story
A stool is a beginning; it is a small, close to the floor and subordinate to other furniture in a room. Its purpose is general (some stools serve as a table, for example), and its dimensions are straightforward in relation to the body. Before there were stools, people sat, crouched, kneeled, or otherwise made direct contact with the earth to rest. Then there was a rock, ledge, log, or other slightly elevated surface which supported the body in a seated position. This provided better orientation and was more comfortable than the cold, hard, damp ground. In my imagination, this trajectory or something similar probably led to the first stool. Across millennia and cultures, people created all kinds of stools to serve various purposes, from pragmatic to ceremonial. The level of attention given to design and fabrication were commensurate with its function. My initial point of reference was the wooden three-legged stool. Examples range from those used by ancient Egyptian workers to rough-hewn Scandinavian vernacular milking stools. These were usually crafted with local materials by the users themselves to suit particular tasks. Highly stable, the tripod arrangement of the legs accommodated irregularities in the ground and the carved shape of the seat supported the buttocks.
Triangles
These purposeful, prosaic examples led me toward the triangular shape as the basis for the design. The top, an equilateral triangle, is a simplification of the saddle-shaped seats in many of the historical precedents. Three legs rest on points that define the corners of a triangle, spreading the load evenly and as widely as possible. Through triangular forms, I sought to relate the top and the legs, rather than distinguish them as in the historical precedents. The 60-degree angle of the top reappears in the legs, which are 30/60/90 triangles oriented towards each other beneath the top. The angled inside edges of the legs define a pyramidal shaped space between them. The triangular shape also connotes strength and stability through its association to the structural frames of bridges and buildings, which employ diagonal elements to resist lateral forces.
Sitting Positions
The height of the stool is approximately the dimension from the floor to the back of a person’s knee, which allows for a comfortable seated position. The configuration of the top and legs enable two different orientations under the body; i.e. there is no front or back. In what is likely the preferred orientation for most people, one side of the triangular top is aligned with the plane of the back of the seated body, so that the width of the top fully supports the buttocks. The two other sides of the top converge toward the front, which makes space for a person’s legs to splay slightly- a relaxed position like squatting. Alternately, one can sit with one edge of the top underneath the knees. In this orientation, the buttocks are partially supported.
Materials and Fabrication
I began with sketches and cardboard scale models, exploring cut and folded triangular planes to make three-dimensional forms. I was searching for a way to directly link means and ends. This led to me to consider materials that are thin and flat. And to simplify further, I wanted to use only one material. After briefly considering bent metal plate, I chose wood for its strength, warmth, tactility and visual interest. Through historical research, I studied how designers assembled thin, flat wood panels to make furniture. I made the initial full-size physical mockup using scrap plywood. Plywood is a very strong, economical material that is easily cut and assembled using hand tools. Subsequent prototypes were made by a fabricator from ¾” thick Douglas fir marine plywood. Its surface has an expressive wood grain and its edges show the layers of veneer of which it is comprised. The top and legs were cut with a computer-controlled router for precision and speed. Two subsequent prototypes were made by another fabricator using ¾ inch thick boards of American walnut and white oak. These are widely available wood species which are strong, durable, and have attractive, integrally colored grain. The solid wood elevates the quality of the piece and is economical.
Visual and Physical Connections
Each corner of the triangular top is beveled. The beveled corner is more resistant to chipping and friendlier next to the body than a sharp corner. The dimension of the beveled corner corresponds to the thickness of the leg. The alignment of each edge of the leg with each corner of the top brings these elements into relationship with each other. This visual connection is reinforced by the correspondence between the 60-degree angles of the top and the 60-degree angle in each leg. When viewed from the side, the edges of the legs and top surface (which are the same dimension) define a square. In the first plywood prototypes, the legs and top abut and appear to be distinct from each other. However, each leg is glued into a concealed slot machined into the underside of the top. This mortise (slot) and tenon (leg) construction is strong and simple. In the second prototypes made of solid wood, a sliding dovetail joint connects each leg with the top. This joint is very strong because it locks the two pieces of wood together. The angles of the dovetail reference the triangular shape of the top and legs.
The Grip Hole
The stool is mostly seen from above so its appearance from this vantage point is important. Although the beveled corner helps integrate the top and legs, the legs are mostly concealed below. How can the horizontal top surface and the vertically oriented legs be brought into a stronger dialog with each other? I studied five shapes of various sizes for an opening in the top to provide visual interest and further unify the legs and top. These were cut with a computer-controlled router. A triangular hole, with each side corresponding to the width of a leg, is a direct representation of the space formed between the junction of all three legs below. A beveled triangular hole enlarges this triangular hole to accentuate (express) the thickness of the wood top. Subsequent holes are sized to fit several fingers so that the stool can be more conveniently gripped and carried. A chamfered triangular hole registers the width of each leg and reiterates the beveled triangular shape of the top. A round hole is a counterpoint to the triangular forms. Ultimately, I preferred a “Y” shaped hole, which has three radiating segments that align with the beveled corners and the width of the legs, purposefully reinforcing the unity of the top and legs.
Multiples
Although each stool is complete unto itself, the design was also conceived to be a multiple. Through grouping and stacking, the stool subtly changes function and becomes a decorative element. Several may be composed to provide more seating, a larger table or to take up less space. For example, an arrangement of six stools makes a hexagon. Grouped like this as a bench, the individual pieces assume a larger scale in relation to the surrounding space. Hiding in plain sight, the stools can be deployed individually as needed. Or they may be asymmetrically composed as a smaller bench, low coffee table or side table. When stacked, the pyramidal spaces between the legs form diamond shapes which remind me of Brancusi’s Endless Column (1918).
Variations
The trajectory of the design process included tangents and feedback loops that informed the final design. Along the way, I gained insights about variations of this design and ideas to explore in other projects. Establishing relatively few parameters led me to consider different materials and details within the “DNA” of the design. One is a thicker, hand-crafted wood piece with a seat made of three angled boards. This elaborates on the grain of the wood and the tripartite forms. An alternative is Baltic birch plywood, whose light grain and crisp edges pair well with a top layer of furniture-grade linoleum, a slightly resilient material that is available in a range of attractive colors. (Imagine a multicolor, flower-petal-like hexagonal grouping!) Knock-down connections, instead of the dovetail, would enable flat-packing for easier shipment. There could also be different shaped center holes, among those I studied, used singly or in combination. A child-sized version would have a lower seat height but otherwise be identically proportioned. Bar and Counter height versions would include a footrest.
Why Stool?
It can, however, also come about, if I have both will and grace, that in considering the tree I become bound up in relation to it. …Let no attempt be made to sap the strength from the meaning of the relation: relation is mutual. – Martin Buber
The design of Y stool, which began as “self-care,” ultimately helped me reflect upon how architecture is meaningful to others. A work of architecture is paradoxical; it is a discrete thing that gains significance from the relationships it creates to people and place. Narrowing my ambition to the design of a modest piece of furniture, I sought to understand how we engage inanimate objects (such as architecture) on their own terms to enable new possibilities. Through its integrity as an object with intrinsic, physical qualities such as form, order and tactility, Y Stool fosters dynamic relationships that extend beyond itself. It is a proxy and companion, promoting our agency as individuals through how we experience and use it (sitting, moving, organizing, arranging) which enables us to define space for different activities. I learned that this personal connection to an object is a prerequisite for a deeper, more meaningful relationship to the things we design, which today we must recognize includes the world itself. Reciprocity between the body and space, facilitated through the objects we create, enriches our lives, moment by moment, every day.