A lamp that appears to be sinking into the table it sits on and a self-contained study/shelf with a built-in chair and footstool. All are from the mind of designer Charles Trevelyan. We wanted to know where the inspiration for objects like these came from, so we asked him. Said he, "some such as Titanic emerge from the subconscious when I’m doing something completely unrelated like shopping for groceries, and almost inevitably when I’m furthest from a pen and paper to record them.". Read the rest after the jump and read still more at Pure Contemporary with whom we collaborated for this interview.

ML: Tell us a little about yourself, how did you get into design?

CT: In a fairly roundabout way, actually. I initially trained as an engineer, studying Materials Engineering in Western Australia, but soon realised that while I found the scientific aspect of the degree very interesting, I would need to find something more creative to sustain me through a career. After working briefly as an engineer, I went back to do a postgrad course in sculpture and 3D design that focused mostly on the conceptual side of art and design rather than the more technical aspects of, say, product design. I then did little design for a few years while I played in a band, and in fact it was the music that in the end brought me back to design. We found that we needed someone to produce promotional material and album designs, and so I volunteered, a decision that eventually led me to work as a graphic designer. I then moved to London to further my career in design, and continued to work in graphics for a few years before finally deciding to go back to what I found most interesting, furniture and 3D design. Since then it’s been a very busy 12 months or so.

ML: We posted Shelflife and Titanic on MoCo Loco a little while ago. Judging from the response, they were popular conversation pieces. They're truly unique, where does the inspiration come from?

CT: Yes, thanks very much the posting; I’ve had a lot of enquiries as a result. For me it’s very difficult to say where the inspiration comes from. Ideas just tend to appear, usually when I least expect them. Often they are related to broader concepts or areas I’m working on, but some such as Titanic emerge from the subconscious when I’m doing something completely unrelated like shopping for groceries, and almost inevitably when I’m furthest from a pen and paper to record them.

Here's some text I usually send to accompany images:

Shelflife: The design process for Shelflife was a combination of inspiration and observation. Having noticed people browsing book shelves with an ever growing pile of books under their arm as they balanced another on top while skim-reading, it seemed that somewhere to sit and read would be a useful addition. Moving on from there, the obvious next step was to combine the two saving space and clutter. The chair then acted as the starting point for the overall form, with the angles dictating the surrounding structure of the shelving unit. With Shelflife, I wanted to create a piece with a strong visual identity of its own that retained a strong functional aspect. The final version is designed as a shelving/display unit, with spaces designed both for books and objects and can act either as a wall unit or room divider with the chair and side table accessible from both sides.

Titanic: It was one of the concepts that just sprung into my head, and is almost identical now as a finished piece to the image I had in my mind at the very beginning. It is deliberately designed to be a stylised version of a classic lamp form, as it is the concept that is important in this piece, and any extra styling would have distracted from this. More generally speaking it plays with the traditional mindset that furniture pieces have certain forms (chairs have four legs, shelves have flat surfaces, and lamps are based on a vertical stem). I also think that in being inspired by an image with no connection to furniture, that of the ship sinking below the waves, it has a certain recognisable character or identity.

Next from Charles Trevelyan, the Harmonic Table above and Striata table down below.

ML: Shelflife and Titanic feature both form and function. Shelflife is more functional and Titanic more "form", at least that's how we see it. How important is form and function to you?

CT: Form and function are the essence of design, and I don’t think an object can be classed as “design” without at least some attention to both. It can be argued that any object that is created is in fact designed, however there is a spectrum extends from the highly technical realms of engineering where function is dominant to the entirely subjective world of art, where form dominates. Design bridges these two extremes, and therefore must address both considerations to some degree.

In practise design for the market favours function, as products must generally fulfill a certain role in order for the consumer to make the purchase. Form is still important in that each product needs to compete against numerous others offering similar functionality, and therefore in areas such as furniture it is form that differentiates between different market categories and can make one product more successful than another.

On the other hand, for a new designer such as myself, I believe that form is arguably the most important consideration. Without a profile on which to launch a product, being distinctive maximises the chances of drawing attention from a limited amount of exposure. It is this attention that then provides the designer with the opportunity to work on products more suitable for the wider market/ Working in this way has the advantage of allowing you to work on projects that are unlikely to become products, but which can often inspire more practical versions or concepts.

Archipelago table.

ML: Your Archipelago table has a sculptural quality that makes it appear more like a piece of art than a table. Is it art? Design? Both?

CT: I think that design can be sculptural without becoming art, and conversely art can be functional. Because the interpretation of designed/created objects is highly subjective, a better means of classification may be the intent or purpose behind the creation of the object. Archipelago was created first and foremost as a functional table, and although it possesses a sculptural quality, I believe that this is enough to warrant a design classification. As designer, my way of working is very different to that of an artist, and for me personally this tends to shape the way I see my work. Taking a broader view, Archipelago is a piece that may be acquired by someone wanting an object that fulfils more the role of an artwork, albeit with a functional aspect. This perhaps suggests that it is both art and design, with the degree depending on your perspective.

"Here's a rendering of two of the pieces in the Striata range which will be debuted in Milan. They're built from a sheet steel and foam sandwich and will be part of a range of three coffee and incidental tables."

ML: What would you like to be doing 10 years from now?

CT: I guess my answer will sound similar to that of most new designers; speaking very generally, I’d like to have my own studio well established, and to have the opportunity to work on a freelance basis with some of the best names in the industry. In an ideal world, I’d love to be in the position where I continue to work on furniture and product design, but also get the opportunity to work on collaborations in other media. The idea of designing for the theatre really interests me, as does working on architectural projects. I’d also love to be producing music again, although I really can’t see the time required to do so appearing anytime soon.

ML: Thank you Charles.

Read more at Pure Contemporary.