PART 2

PART 3

I always looked forward to the conversation and mood of these lunchtime excursions into the world of eating. When you arrived, she had usually prepared one course, which was already in the oven. Over the next hour or so you would be invited to participate in preparing second courses, salads, hors d’oeuvres or desserts, all the while sitting at her rudimentary pine table. There was no work surface.

If you were lucky, she was in the middle of one of her research programmes, although ‘research’ might convey the wrong impression. She nurtured ‘enthusiasms’ that became scholarly and gustatory quests. I once ate lunch with her when she was writing her English Spices and Aromatic Herbs book. We ate spiced beef terrine. On another occasion, whilst she was working on English Bread and Yeast Cookery, we dined on delicious Ligurian pizzas & Selkirk Bannocks.

But it was her ice cream experiments for her Ice Book, posthumously published, that gave our long meals perfect ending.  Sweet, scented, aromatic, rich or delicate and scooped from the ice cream maker whilst still soft and non-crystalline - I can almost feel it in my mouth now.

Occasionally things went wrong - or at least not right - for her. She would always be the first to say so. She never boasted about her cooking, always analysing it thoughtfully, eating small quantities and encouraging me or other guests (I rarely remember more than one other – she liked intimate conversation) to eat as much as possible.

Generosity - making guest feel the food was there to be eaten to the point of satisfaction - was important. There was always a glass of carefully selected but not expensive wine at hand and one of my jobs was to use the corkscrew. She used to buy half bottles so that we could switch wines when appropriate. She never expected you to finish the glass once the courses had moved on.

There was one major drawback to eating with her. As she lived on her own and lived in relatively modest circumstances, she had no one to do the washing up. The guest (at least me) was expected to do the bulk of it. Fairly early on, when I was 17, what one could describe as a sink cabinet finally fell apart. When leaks began appearing in the drainers, and the cupboard doors started falling off, she suggested that I should build her a new sink cabinet, this time at the right height and properly constructed. I duly obliged, constructing it in the street to the bemusement of local Chelsea residents. I was paid in meals – mostly lunches and £300 to embark on student travel. Looking back, it was no accident that I became a kitchen designer.

The insidiousness of doing everything in a hurry particularly diminishes the pleasure of cooking. Designing a kitchen to ensure you expend care while prepping and cooking is one of our studio’s key philosophies and easily applied to all kitchen design. We describe this as creating a sense of order by using ‘dedicated work surfaces’. We limit the length of surface to single tasks with connected storage for tools and height of counters, sequencing activities to a different piece of furniture or location where there is logical flow or body movement. This leaves space on the fringes of the culinary zone for French doors into the garden, a friendly piece of furniture, perhaps an antique dresser, a bigger table, rocking chair or a fireplace.

We encourage pre-meal activities as a sociable process so that you can chat with others whilst you cook, look out the window, listen to music or simply pause for a moment without a cupboard or wall three inches from your nose. We therefore locate cooking and prepping facing into the room so that eye contact is possible, ensuring that ‘suitable doses of guaranteed sensual pleasure and slow, long-lasting enjoyment preserve us from (those) who mistake frenzy for efficiency’ quoting from the Slow Food manifesto.

The pleasure of eating is enhanced by the expectations and beauty of the food when arranged and laid out before eating. We provide a raised food bar or servery, narrow and long, that is easily accessible to the cook and the prospective diners. It can also serve as a buffet point for self-assembly meals with small bowls of different preparations or performs as a leaning post for visitors to chat holding a glass of wine, with the option of perching below on a high stool.

Provenance so important to food, applies equally to physical things. Knowing where your furniture is made, being able to see it constructed, using eco-sourced materials, good craftspeople and in preferably smaller, well-managed workshops, applies the Slow Food principles to the making of things.

You need someone to bring all this together and ensure the kitchen space creates well-being and this is where the ethical designer steps in. Its where design can work its magic in tune with the new mood of the times, inspired so appropriately by the Slow Food movement.

Don’t grimace, it could be coming sooner than you think. The pressure is on. Cooking in your kitchen is the new ‘right-on activity’, the new black in fashion terms. Wholesome, socially and morally correct behaviour, it makes a virtue out of the downturn, a return to behaviour inspired by instinct and pure of motive, both creative and productive. Short of growing the food yourself (although you can also shop to match the ethos), it’s the ultimate way of nurturing your family and friends, rewarding your appetite and being economic. Sleeping might be the longest activity we undertake in our home habitat and where we are the most vulnerable, but cooking is the ultimate expression of our nesting instinct. It’s the core activity bringing rhythm to our day, satisfying our hard wired needs for sociable activity—a key component for our happiness, well being and survival.

Where we do this affects our enjoyment and efficacy of cooking and its related activities. So kitchen design is more important than ever. Is the kitchen attractive to other family members than just the cook? Do they want to linger? Does it establish eye contact to encourage chat and provide a comfortable place to perch? Is the lighting designed for high octane use and for diners to relax? Can the fumes get out and can the children play within an easy distance or be visible in the garden from the cook’s action spot? Cooking maybe back in fashion, whether it’s the new black or simply because of back to basic necessity, but things are heating up for kitchen designers (please forgive the pun).

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6460384985053956448

It’s finally happened; as house prices fall, home ownership is no longer about making money. As people stay put out of necessity, this could be a silver lining to the economic downturn. It will make for a greater sense of belonging, with closer emotional connection to one’s house and neighbourhood. For domestic designers like ourselves, this is both valuable and appreciated. So how can designers get in tune with this new mood? If you are going to make home improvements during an economic downturn, the money needs to be wisely spent. Quality, craftsmanship and good value become important. Heritage, thoughtfulness and authenticity are a few of the abstract nouns that describe the upcoming mood.

Here at JG studios, we will continue to provide holistic service, using our spread of skills across architecture, kitchen and interior design. We also apply emotionally intelligent thinking to create living spaces that establish connection with nature, views, light and the needs of the brain. Some of the techniques we use include encouraging eye contact whilst cooking, establishing feelings of calm and security with our neuroscience analysis, and using more creativity to have fun and respond to individual tastes through colour and eclectic furnishings. We make this happen by carefully choosing individual artisans, craftspeople and artists – all of whom have unique talents to offer. We will be working out ways that clients can get this less expensively and provide choices as to which of our services are right for them.

In the last few weeks, we have had requests for a lot of smaller but exciting design projects. These range from redesigning children’s bedrooms with heirloom pieces to making modest extensions that will bring space and light into a kitchen so you can eat within the arc of sun. And as winter fast approaches, we’ve also been asked to design a pair of fire seats so that more people can huddle up close to the fire at the same time.

]]> http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/2008/10/26/the-changing-meaning-of-home/feed/ http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/2008/10/18/windows-of-the-mind-guardian-weekend-181008/ http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/2008/10/18/windows-of-the-mind-guardian-weekend-181008/#comments Sat, 18 Oct 2008 16:59:15 +0000 Johnny http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/?p=38 Why does a room look relaxing and yet feel awkward to sit in?  Which makes us happier - a minimalist sleek space or a small room with the cosy clutter and signs of homeliness?  Annalisa Barbieri wrote a thoughtful analysis, “Windows of the Mind,” in the Guardian Weekend about one of my core interests, the psychology of the home.  She talked to John Zeisel and I when she was writing it and about our personal research into how neuroscience can take us beyond Fung Shui.

John is on the board of the Academy of Neuroscience for Architecture which was set up to get architects and designers to work together on exploring what the links are between the brain and home design.  Our design studios in UK and USA apply neuroscience analysis to kitchens and interior design for all our clients. It’s well described by Annalisa in the article.

At one point Annalisa says I work with local authorities on social housing. I wish I did. What I think she meant was that I would like to, especially as I ran a conference last year entitled, Housing from Heaven. It was an attempt to bring together the different strands of the housing world – architects, interior designers, thinkers and housebuilders crossing their respective boundaries to think creatively about making housing mean home, rather than accommodation (with money, regulations, dull thinking and minimalist space). I spoke at the conference about how our studios multiple approach of combined psychology, brain research and study of humane ergonomics could be applied to social housing, particularly for the interior. Small houses are often in more need of good design than their larger cousins because space is at a premium and the feeling of being cramped makes people less able to be relaxed or ‘literally at home’. Although our studios work for well off  individuals we like the idea of contributing to the lives of ordinary people. Design thinking should filter down to the real economy.

]]> http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/2008/10/18/windows-of-the-mind-guardian-weekend-181008/feed/ http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/2008/10/18/neuroscience-and-kitchen-design/ http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/2008/10/18/neuroscience-and-kitchen-design/#comments Sat, 18 Oct 2008 11:26:34 +0000 Johnny http://www.johnnygrey.com/greymatters/?p=39

Last week, I accepted the Simon Taylor Award for lifetime achievement in the kitchen industry. The Design Awards ceremony, held in London on October 7, was organised by Designer Magazine to recognise excellence in the British kitchen and bath industry. The Simon Taylor Award is presented to an individual who is judged to have made an outstanding contribution to kitchen and bath design.

I was asked about the design and position of the kitchen in the home of the future. My reaction to this was based on the role of neuroscience in design, a topic I have explored with John Zeisel, an American environmental sociologist.

We focused on identifying the key characteristics of living spaces that return well being – for the body and the brain. An example of the intersection of design and neuroscience is that different colours stimulate different parts of the brain, and designers can use a variety of colours to enhance mood in the spaces they create. Another example is designing a kitchen in such a way that builds in eye contact to increase sociability.

We are returning to our instincts in the need for light, connection to nature and recognition of sociability.
Last year, John and I wrote a paper on “happy kitchens.” This essay inspired Alison Beard, editor of the Financial Times House & Home section, to commission a piece from Catherine Moye entitled “All in the Mind.”

Last week, I saw the most remarkable kitchen I have ever encountered.

It looked as though a dancer or a sculptor designed it.

On one side of a simple galley arrangement, the cabinets were held in the embrace of a thick, curved, black walnut butcher-block slab that was a study in movement. Rising from the floor, it flattened out at countertop height to become a work surface around the sink area, before curving up. Then, in a serpentine gesture, the slab turned back on itself, flattening out again to support the wall cabinets, before turning up again toward the 12-foot ceiling.

Opposite this study in butcher-block dynamism, a second curved slab rose from the floor, flattened out to be a work surface around a cook top, and then curved back down to the floor, like a dancer doing a backbend. Unlike the sink side with its cabinets, the space below the cook top held an open rack for storing pots and pans, a subtle gesture that made the space in the long and narrow 13-by-40-foot room feel more generous.

The mastermind behind this remarkable display was Johnny Grey, a British kitchen designer with a background in architecture and a refreshingly different approach to domestic spaces.

Read the rest of Katherine’s article.

We triggered these sensations with decorative objects created by Mexican artist Eduardo Garza, such as a huge coral in the centre table, mysterious bones, tortoise shells and amber glass light, a Lucite drum containing Dexter’s knives and a jewel box in which the devilish work of Finnish chocolate artist Anna Shea is displayed.

Eduardo Garza

A collection of super-enlarged studies of flowers and crystal blue ocean water by Paul Lange, a Condé Nast photographer, were chosen to help suggest a Miami scene. Paul personally matted and framed his work with precision, and took six hours to carefully place and hang the images.

Paul Lange

The American tropical plant expert Dennis Schrader, of Landcraft Environments in Mattituck, Long Island, transformed the kitchen with an indoor container garden. His selection of vegetation selection includes flesh-eating plants, and others with leaves that appear blood-spattered, are shaped like sting rays or feel like alligator skin. Dennis plans to launch his newly published book Extraordinary Leaves at the showhouse on October 16 together with photographer Stephen Green-Armytage.

Our nod to the literal and only elegantly ghoulish was a collaboration with Anna Shea, who made solid chocolate renditions from a cast a human hand and wrist. Startled guests discovered the Dexter-trophy in the fridge. We are disappointed, but not surprised to report that some cheeky guests soon gobbled up some of Anna’s beautiful fingers. She assures us that she is not upset. Anna is based in Tarrytown, New York, and is opening a flagship boutique for her artisanal chocolates in Chicago this month.

Anna Shea

The furnishings piece de resistance is the 54 inch tall red rope chair by the Philippino furniture designer Kenneth Cobonpue. It’s supportive, transparent and and cocoon-like. The knots recall a fishing net, and all things nautical. Although an accidental association, the red rope ties visually to both Amy Lau’s use of red in her dining room, and to Enzo Enea’s stunning red rope canopy in his bamboo garden behind the kitchen.

We noticed a snippet of a visual detail in episodes of Dexter story in which a sonar image is displayed on a fishing boat. We asked the producers for a screen capture, and from it, the New York textile artist Liora Manne handcrafted an 8-foot diameter rug that visually anchors our kitchen furnishings. It is graphically stunning, and even more startling to discover that it is a sonar image of Dexter’s watery burial ground!

Liora Manne

The naturally distressed zebra maple wood floor has a unique “slasher” grain, caused by water penetration after beetles created bore holes in the source trees. The resulting streaks of grey have a rhythmic, calming effect in the room, like fallen leaves on water. You feel as if you are walking on polished bark, perhaps in a log cabin or tree house.

The wall surrounding the ovens is clad in sandstone from Warzistan, provided by Artistic Tile. The grain and colouring reinforces the Dexter theme with its streaks, broken mineral surfaces and a surface you just have to stroke.

The Australian artist Lucy Turner painted the blood cells frieze on the big storage cupboard. This decoration is in no way morbid or gruesome; blood became beautiful and extraordinary as a mechanism that spreads the life force throughout our bodies. After all, where would we be without it?

The appliances throughout the kitchen are Thermador’s latest. Their new convection cooktop was on display, as were wine coolers, ovens and a generous fridge and freezer. Unlike so many showhouse installations, ours is live. The countertop insert in the sink top and cladding of the radiators and architectural recesses around the windows all came from Caesarstone, a synthetic stone made from crushed quartz.

The onsite contractors, Certified Construction of New York, Inc, also worked hard on all aspects of the kitchen lighting and plumbing installation. And finally, our own team of furniture makers at the Johnny Grey Detroit workshop created complicated walnut countertops and cherry, bogged oak and aspen wood cabinetry, as well as the stainless steel metalwork. The compliment to them is that the visitor’s eye immediately goes to the furniture as soon as they enter the kitchen. Hands soon follow, and it is not at all surprising to see the curves of the furniture caressed with curiosity and surprise.