TALL TREES AND TALL BUILDINGS

Last weekend, we took a walk. We ended up at Redwood Park. We stared up into the small forest of redwoods towering above us. The cool canopy of 50 redwoods, transplanted from the Santa Cruz Mountains, muffled the street sounds and made the space feel cathedral-like. Adjacent to the park, the Transamerica Pyramid reached above to the sky. Nature and human achievement side by side, competing for space.

We had set that day for the Chinatown Car Show. We wondered how a car show was going to fit on the busy, narrow streets of Chinatown. We walked past small shops brimming with bins of fresh vegetables, dried fish, and cardboard boxes of fruit. We watched as people crowded into a tea shop with its walls lines with various types of teas and into a shop next door full of traditional Chinese medicine. Next to the crowded sidewalks, the cars lined up, one after the other, for several blocks. Car shows have become a popular entertainment in Northern California. On other adventures, we walked through blocks of dressed-up cars in Danville, strolled around a collection of Cadillac CT5s at Cavallo Point across from the City, and watched lines of low-riders follow each other on the San Francisco Embarcadero. We turned the corner at Jackson Street, intending to walk to Jackson Square, but we were sidetracked by the Transamerica Pyramid, newly renovated.

We didn't go into the Pyramid itself, but wandered around the open plaza with its giant planters full of greenery and plenty of places for people to sit. At the back of the Pyramid, we found a small exhibition hall showcasing the contents unearthed from a long-forgotten time capsule from 1974. We looked at news articles, photos, and diagrams of the then-controversial design. We glanced at a sheet of paper labeled We Built This, with the signatures of all the people who worked on the building. We read letters written by artists and community leaders who protested the building's design and its interruption of the San Francisco skyline. One poster showed what the artist imagined would happen to the San Francisco skyline if the Pyramid were to be built. As in the poster, today, the pyramid is almost hidden among the much taller skyscrapers that crowd downtown.

Next to the time capsule exhibit is another filled with the designs from the last years of Ray and Charles Eames' work, whose furniture designs match the mid-century modern style of the Pyramid. They are well-known for their lounge chair, stackable office chairs, and the wire and curved fiberglass chairs that sat together in the exhibit , along with small, brightly colored household objects and toys. Walking through the collection reminded me of how much the mid mid-century modern aesthetic had influenced my own early graphic design work.

When Ray and Charles Eames first presented their wares, the items were a radical departure from the heavy oak, maple, and mahogany furniture popular at the time. Suddenly, chair legs became spindly, seats were barely padded, and tables were unadorned and sleek. The makers, inspired by the Danish modernism and Bauhaus movements in Europe, followed the idea of form follows function. 

Mid-century modern has made a comeback. Its simple lines and easy care appeal to a different generation, setting up new living spaces. They are turning away from the Tuscany-influenced heavy furniture that has been popular for so long. I find walking through a Mid-century modern room to be a quiet space without clutter and the visual cacophony of other styles. 

The Pyramid's plaza and the park next door felt like a three-dimensional walk through the design principles of mid-century modern, including functionality, bright colors and earth tones, and organic and geometric shapes The two together created a quiet harmony within a very busy part of San Francisco.

Examples of the Eames furniture designs:

https://eames.com/en/seating 

Even better, the Eames Institute, whose mission is to encourage curiosity and creativity:

https://www.eamesinstitute.org/about/