The Concealment of Spatial Mistakes

While recently viewing multiple houses, I discovered numerous unsuccessful attempts to repair property damages. Area’s that once contained hooks for art had been puttied over and touched up with hand-mixed paint, broken fixtures had been superglued into place in an awkward manner, strategically placed rugs covered scratches in wooden floorboards, and a small section of new tiles clearly delineated the wear and tear of existing flooring. Regardless of how well these cover-up’s were executed, anyone who has ever lived is likely to have made a number of doozies during spatial experimentations.

During my studies, one of my favourite past times was collecting images and stories of failed spatial interventions. From hand-rails that lead someone into a solid brick wall, to hand-drier’s placed at knee level, it’s not hard to look closely at everyday items and recognise a number of inconsistencies. These spatial mistakes remind us that it is imperative to ‘measure twice, cut once’ – as the old saying goes, for the repair of such simple errors is often more costly than to plan ahead from the start. Everyone has experienced days where they miscalculate an eccentric and daring idea, such as turning a teapot into a water feature, only to wake up the next day and wonder how it was ever going to work. The variance of impact however relies upon how badly a spatial mistake influences daily life. Re-directing traffic flow into a sharp table edge is certain to cause greater long-lasting effects than to recognise the relocation of a restaurant entranceway by a few paces to the left.

As a designer, it pains me to observe spatial mistakes made previously by unsuspecting new home buyers. A house that is less than 10 years old often requires multiple repairs early on because something so insignificant as a bathroom tap chosen for the kitchen sink, overflows across an island, causing flooding with every use. Similar smaller but painful mistakes can include a low hanging fan placed directly at the entranceway of a bedroom, one or two ceiling light-sources for the entire area of an open concept space, or even the lack of toilet roll holder in a water-closet. These details create confusion, suggesting that perhaps the end user has misplaced their common sense, when in-fact, they are simply spatial oversight’s by people who ought to have know better at some point during construction and fit-outs.

The extent of spatial blunder’s never ceases to amaze me. I recall once using a bathroom in a high-rise apartment, only to realise a floor to ceiling height window was positioned vertically alongside the toilet with absolutely no frosting or blind for privacy. To be fair, the view was spectacular, but once the bathroom was backlit by any light source, there was absolutely no-where to hide. Unable to rest, I stood on the street in the middle of the night, staring up at other bathrooms in the complex, and realised that I would have to fumble around in the dark for the rest of the evening, or risk becoming an exhibitionist.

If I ever need a quick pick-me-up, a trip to any IKEA warehouse always does the job. In an area out the back, a graveyard of failed D.I.Y projects stand as a testament to a complete communication breakdown. Whether it was a couple testing their relationship with a flat pack coffee table, a father and son knocking together a study desk with the use of non-regulation power tools, or a total novice believing they know better and justified sawing a little off the end of each bookshelf rung, this collection of furniture appropriates a Marcel Duchamp, Dadaism revival of contemporary art. Funnily enough, the visionary curators who purchase second-hand mistakes are usually the ones that recognise the opportunity of bespoke workmanship, and are not afraid of tackling an even greater challenge.

Spatial mistakes remind us of what it means to be human. As we adjust our expectations to match the modern ideal of streamlined spatial interventions, spaces that contain ‘charm’ such as bowing floorboards and windows that stick, become less common. Like a well-oiled machine, sometimes a spanner in the works causes a disruption to the consistency we rely on, ensuring we maintain a level-headed perspective. Without the prevalence of guidelines and rules to formulate built spaces that work, the descent back to a stone-age existence remains very real. For now, thankfully, outsourcing a qualified tradie will prevent this apocalyptic reality – it’s never too late to seek out professional help.