The oldest television architecture there is, a spinning wheel of holes, turns out to have a third dimension hiding in it. All it needed was three cheap LED panels and someone willing to do the geometry.
Handmade paper stitched into lampshades, and steel beaten thin enough to pass for it. The marks left by the hammer used to get sanded away; this time they are the pattern.
A decade of working models, shown as the finished exhibition. Underneath it sits a claim worth borrowing: how an object moves is a personality trait, and somebody has to decide it.
Two London Design Festival shows, one from first-year students and one from working designers, land on the same rule: give people less and the objects come out sharper. A whole flat of evidence opens Saturday.
The first construction step is cardboard. The most important decision, according to the company that sells the chip, is which box you put it in.
The most important component in this kit is one you have to go find yourself. It stopped being manufactured about fifteen years ago, and that is the whole point.
Ploopy's old board had solder pads for two switches that never shipped, and a base with slots for a wrist rest nobody ever made. The A+ is what happens when a maker goes back and finishes the sentence.
Three thousand answers, sealed on the board at build time, with no way to add a three-thousand-and-first. The ceiling is the design.
Sabrina Merayo Nuñez grows lamps from algae and medieval paint recipes. They pulse when you walk up to them.
A modder took a 1995 Casio day planner and rebuilt the entire inside while leaving the outside untouched. The instinct here is the opposite of the cyberdeck: don't invent a new form for the silicon, find one that already knows what it wants to be.
A circular screen, an ESP32, and a German maker's own photograph of the moon as the texture map. The choice most builders would skip is the one that gives the object its weight.
Sterling silver yo-yos, stone dice, a toad-shaped ring toss. Georg Jensen's new games collection treats dents and scratches as proof of life, not damage.