Jason Rens’s future as a designer pretty much began — though unbeknownst to him at the time — the day his grandpa bought him a Taliesin West t-shirt. Rens was still a kid growing up in Arizona, and his grandpa, Al Farnsworth, was an architect who liked to make pilgrimages to Frank Lloyd Wright’s famed winter home each time he came to visit. When Rens grew up and graduated high school, he worked at a clothing company slash record label for awhile, but then a random job at a design/build company activated some long-dormant impulse buried inside him: I want to be an architect, too. He made it halfway through architecture school in Boulder before shifting gears and finishing his degree in crafts in Portland, where he’s now known for both his interiors and, increasingly, his Rason Jens line of sculptural objects. “In architecture school, I started to feel like what I wanted to do was a bit different from standard traditional architecture, maybe more sculptural and artist-bent,” he recalls. “So much of the conversation there was about is this art? Is this design? Putting these things into categories. I thought it was cool where they all met in the middle. Finding people like ROLU, Alma Allen, and Martino Gamper, those were all real epiphanies for me, where I was like, ‘Holy shit, you can do this.’”
Unfortunately his classmates in Portland didn’t agree, unanimously trashing his 2012 graduation project, a series of raw wood shapes and totems called Pink/Frequency that had little discernible function except to engage the eye. But it didn’t matter — Rens was already gaining a reputation in the Portland design scene for his contributions to the interior of a cultish local art gallery and waffle café, Jace Gace, and through the shared studio space he’d founded in 2010, Supermaker. After graduation, one of his studio mates introduced him to Joseph Magliaro and Shu Hung of the new concept store Table of Contents, who changed the course of his career again, unexpectedly putting the very graduation project he’d had to defend into the context of a retail store. Rens is now looking forward to expanding the Rason Jens line and selling the objects on his forthcoming online shop. “I’m really interested in expanding function beyond utitlity,” he says of the work. “I think a lot of design becomes so functionally dominated it almost becomes sterile; it loses feeling. I really believe that the act of everyday living, and having a home, and being in that home with objects — that’s real life. Having a beautiful object or something that inspires you or makes you see things a little differently is a completely valid function, and one I wish more people paid more attention to.”
Design object you wish you’d made: “The ones I haven’t made yet! I have so many feelings and ideas that I want to create. So many incredible objects surround us every day. Everything from this computer I’m using to the window I’m looking out of. The creative flow is so deep and wide. It’s a joy being able to take a swim in it for a bit and see what comes up, you know? I look forward to being able to work with more people, in more ways and in new places.”
Tell the entire story of your life as a designer in seven words: “In appreciation of simplicity and minimalism, I did it in six, haha: ‘All situations are stages of change.’”
What you’d make if you weren’t allowed to use any wood: “Well ,I already use other materials besides wood, but if I imagine moving outside of working with physical materials, my mind quickly goes to making music and/or film. Which is funny to say because I’m developing some works with film and digital video currently. It’s in the early stages, but we plan to be shooting this spring/summer. Looking forward to working in this medium — no sawdust!”
Best thing about living/working in Portland: “Affordable, Europeanish, entrepreneurially friendly, proximity to variety of natural landscapes.”
Worst thing about living/working in Portland: “You can’t see the stars very well and the sun gets really shy in the winter.”
What inspired your Pink/Frequency series? “That title came in a dream. After I woke up I looked it up, and it turns out to be a certain frequency of sound. I was looking at the internet a lot at that time, tumblr and image-based sites mostly. I work intuitively and have learned through experience that form follows feeling. My work from this series is how I came to know that experientially. I was feeling things around the object/image relationship, and I was also interested in art/objects that related to the everyday experience of being. I felt the real art was the art of living.”
What inspired your Pink/Frequency series? “After the dream I showed up at the studio each morning and followed what came — complete trust in the unknown. This was the beginning of a new way of being creative for me, and as the deadline grew nearer, I’d have moments of wondering, ‘What in the world are you doing?’ or ‘Where is this going?’ But I saw it through and I’m pleased with what resulted. I can see now that those works were seeds of a transformation.”
Last amazing thing you bought at a flea market: “Two of my favorite rugs. I have the beginnings of a small collection, and these were splendid additions. They are both completely unique and wonderfully odd. The larger one is a runner-ish rug from Iran that most likely dates from the 1940s. It looks like it was made by sewing two matching camel saddle blankets together and then adding some thick woven sections. It’s woven with hair and has sections of pattern that feel familiar, but that I’ve never seen. I imagine riding camels everytime I come home and see it — like in Lawrence of Arabia.”
Last amazing thing you bought at a flea market: “The second rug is beach-towel sized. Dino and Maya, the artists and dealers whose flea market booth I often buy from, told me they saw it and thought of me. It’s woven as well, but we’re not sure from where or when it comes. It almost looks Scandinavian, but the imagery is South American? Totally catawampus combination. In the center is this long serpent or dragon form, next to what looks to be a Pac Man-ish form. It’s really subtle and beautiful though.”
Last great exhibition you saw: “Well, I don’t get out much as much as I’d like. The last exhibition I saw was the Rothko retrospective at the Portland Art Museum. It seems like it was yesterday, but I looked it up and realized it was over a year ago! I love Rothko paintings. It’s like being under a wave of pure energy. They’re so alive and wash right over you. I also appreciated the retrospective aspect of the exhibition; they had it set up chronologically so you could follow his trajectory. It was inspiring to see how his feelings took new forms as time passed.”
Last great exhibition you saw: “Rothko is also so fearless with color. Early on in my work I was hesitant to bring in colors; they seemed so powerful, and I usually deferred to the natural color of the wood. Often my teachers would mention form versus color, and form was my focus initially. But in recent years, especially with Pink/Frequency, I felt like color was saying, ‘Hey, we should really work together.’ Now I’m more open to it. But I want to be even more fearless like Rothko, and let colors make the choices.”
First thing you ever remember making: “Regarding objects, it was a wooden window planter for my mom. I was in grade school and dug around my dad’s shop for some boards, nails, and a hammer. I cut out the pieces, nailed it up, and painted it white. But performances are my earliest creative memory: The parents would get together for dinner, and I’d round up the kids and start casting them in roles. We’d do songs or stage fights or whatever. We’d also build these epic forts by moving the furniture around, with multiple rooms and hallways. So much fun!”
Design or art hero: “Within the design/art world, Martino Gamper’s 100 Chairs in 100 Days and Enzo Mari’s Autoprogettazione series are both very inspiring. Although I didn’t know of either of these series until after I started doing my 2×4 Chair collection (pictured), I can see correlations: All of our series involve furniture. Gamper used a time restraint (100 days) and I use a material restraint (one 8 ft. 2×4 = one chair). Mari used mass-produced dimensional lumber and I use the classic construction 2×4. Plus, the use of restraint and simplicity to heighten creativity.”
Favorite everyday object: “Carl Sagan, my 1988 Volvo 240 station wagon. I really love that car. It’s the last year before they began to go with electric windows and door locks and whatever. The simplicity and functionality is superb. It’s got that little tray above the stereo that’s just perfect. It feels very real and everyday — both feelings I contemplate with my work. Objects that feel real and relate to the everyday experience of being. The car adapts in many different ways. I’m interested in that with my work too; objects that are whole, but also dynamic. You can immediately know it, but there’s also room for it to unfold in time and to find new situations and arrangements. Like I’ve learned through meditation, ‘Not too tight, not too loose.’”
Design movement you most identify with: “I’m not sure if I identify with it, but I really appreciate 1970s Italy, oh my oh my! Enzo Mari, Superstudio, Ettore Sottsass, Memphis Collective, Ugo La Pietra, Archizoom, Group 9999, the Separate School for Expanded Conceptual Architecture, Gaetano Pesce, Tobia and Afra Scarpa, etc. And many more I’m not mentioning. It was a unique moment in the history of design, to say the least. What were they drinking?? I admire the experimental approach. It seems as if everything was possible — socially, politically, artistically. Just a complete submission to the creative force and such wideranging curiosity.”
Design movement you most identify with: “Here’s a quote I found recently and identify with, from Barbara Radice talking about the Memphis collective: ‘At this point the question at issue is no longer mere formal innovation — adding, subtracting, or changing the direction of things — but the radical subversion of the epistemology of the design. The design is no longer a solution, but a hypothesis. It is not a definitive declaration, but a stage, a transitory moment, a container of possibilities, an unstable living form that evolves in time.”
First thing a stranger would say when they saw your work: “‘In sharing my work with strangers I often hear the same response: ‘it feels familiar, but completely new.’ I always feel appreciative for that. I think it’s a really great compliment.” Pictured: Rens’s recent Knew Forms series
What you collect: “I collect images on my Pink/Frequency tumblr, which is fantastic because they don’t take up any physical space, I can share them with everyone all of the time, and I don’t have to move them around. Most of the images are artistically inspiring. They range from furniture to interiors to fashion to art. I select what catches my eye immediately or gives me a certain feeling; perhaps it’s my own version of a Gerhard Richter Atlas or something.” Pictured: A photo taken in India by Ettore Sottsass in 1977
Best gift you ever received:“I’m deeply appreciative for the gift of SuperMaker, a 4200 sq. ft. warehouse in the inner southeast portion of Portland, Oregon. It houses a wood shop, metal shop, recording studio, widow gallery, and twelve studios. I took over the lease two years ago, named it SuperMaker, and continue to actively host the space. It’s the homebase for an amazing group of independent creatives ranging from an architect to textile designers to a film production company. It’s also the current home of my Rason Jens studio. We’ve made some additions and tool acquirements, but we inherited the majority of the buildings infrastructure from a friend named Giles Neale. Having this space and the resources we’ve gathered here directly supports me in my creative explorations. It has profoundly transformed what is possible for me and everyone working here.”
Favorite tool in your workshop: “A Japanese handsaw, or pull saw, as it’s sometimes called. I have two kinds: One has a rigid back that allows for more precision, and the other is double-sided. One side for crosscutting and the other for ripping. I’m always appreciative when I get to use them.”
Object you keep around your studio for inspiration: “Two original drawings and a photograph of my grandpa, Al Farnsworth. He was an architect, and from what I understand, the drawings were done when he was a student. In the picture he was around my age, and drawing at his drafting table set against a wall of windows. I went to architecture school for a bit and then moved on, but I have a lot of interest in architecture. I appreciate that he lived an artistically based life. He turned me onto Frank Lloyd Wright (his favorite) when I was young. We lived in Arizona and he’d visit Taliesin West when he came to see us. I feel like I’m carrying something forward that guided my grandpa too. I’ve often imagined building the house in his drawings.”
Ultimate dream place you wish you could install your pieces: “Well if we’re talking ultimate dream place, I’m going for outerspace. It’s a life goal to travel to space one day, and what better reason than to install my work, haha. Here on Earth I’d go with the Guggenheim, though. It holds a mythic place in my imagination. And my grandpa would be tickled his grandson’s work was in a Frank Lloyd Wright building!”
Most interesting thing you ever brought back from your travels: “A Kodak 220 Land Camera black and white photograph that I took of the exterior of Peter Zumthor’s Therme Vals in Graubunden Canton, Switzerland. I made a pilgrimage of sorts there in the early 2000s. Sitting in one of those amazing spring-fed hot spring pools, looking out over snow-covered peaks, is when I decided I was going to study architecture.”
Right now, Jason Rens is: “Doing what I love and loving what I do. And impressed that I finally got this questionnaire answered!” Pictured: Rens’s bronze bookends for Table of Contents
In the realm of magazine-making, photographer Eva Michon and creative director Colin Bergh could be considered populist heroes. Whenever they begin an issue of their four-year-old side project Bad Day Magazine, they make a wish list full of dozens of potential subjects they happen to be interested in at the moment — Sofia Coppola, Glenn O'Brien, Ariel Pink — and then, except for one fateful attempt to woo Nicki Minaj, they actually manage to go out and persuade those disparate personalities to appear together among their monochromatic pages. The pair have gotten so good at the curatorial hunt that when Michon, who serves as editor, agreed to let us reprint an article from the recently released Bad Day Issue #11, we were spoiled for choice: There were interviews with Sight Unseen favorites Martino Gamper and Tauba Auerbach, both of whom we're planning to feature on our own in the near future, plus stories on Mike Mills, David Shrigley, Tomi Ungerer, and David Shearer. But ultimately we settled on the curious multidisciplinary dialogue between the actor Jason Schwartzman and the New York artist Andrew Kuo, who meander between topics like music, color-mixing, hangovers, and what it would be like if they looked like Jesus.
There's a reason why one of the first questions we always ask Sight Unseen subjects is "What did your parents do?" In the nearly two years we've been producing this site, it's become apparent that the ideas and habits of ultra-creative people usually germinate in childhood, and that the environments in which they were raised tend to have played a part — whether their formative years resembled those of Kiki van Eijk, whose father competed on the 1976 Dutch Olympic field hockey team but also taught her to paint, or Lauren Kovin, whose parents filled the house with Ettore Sottsass furniture. The more designers and artists in a given family, the more interesting things tend to get, which is why we decided to start this new Related column. In it, we'll periodically ask creative talents who are related to interview one another about their respective practices and what it was like growing up in close proximity. First up are brothers Lukas Peet, 24, and Oskar Peet, 27, up-and-coming designers who were born and raised in the Canadian mountain resort town of Banff, attended the Design Academy Eindhoven together, and whose Dutch-born father Rudi Peet immigrated to Banff in 1974 and has since established himself as a successful jewelry designer there.
Think of Work Place as a sort of hyperlocal version of Sight Unseen that peeks inside the studios of Portland, Oregon’s best and brightest creative talents. The site is the solo effort of talented local photographer Carlie Armstrong, who documents a community of potters, patternmakers, illustrators, print shops, woodworkers, painters, comics, bicycle-builders — and even a floating workshop and gallery built inside a restored naval vessel parked near the city’s Sauvies Island — from behind the viewfinder of her Twin Lens Reflex camera.
