Patina + Decay in Objects (Design for The Long Con #1)

Rafi Ajl
Rafi Ajl
Aug 8, 2017 · 5 min read

I’ve been exploring the idea around frameworks for a manual for the design of principled objects; objects, as I call them, designed for The Long Con. The intention is to make tools and things that make it easier to have a positive impact on the world. These frameworks are more easily and generally adaptable to tools, perhaps, that objects and products themselves. They are frameworks, but also hypothesis, possibilities, vectors. Catch-all terms for sets of embedded values.

The binaries that I’ve been currently been working on are patina/decay; meadow/lawn; bazaar/market; and condensed/reductive. In the coming weeks, I’ll go deeper into each of these, beginning at the beginning, with the patina/decay binary.


https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/bd/f6/8a/bdf68a3bfb10d069aa294973e6198ce2.jpg

The above Leica shows time and energy on its surface; its condition presents a landscape of information. This camera is more valuable than a new camera — it carries personal value for the owner. The object can be read; how the camera is held, where and how it hangs on the body, the experiences that it has moved through. In the quality of patina, the object has accumulated value through use, through a relationship. In having a deep relationship with a thing, we are inclined to perform maintenance actions rather than throw it away. This practice of maintenance, if propagated as a cultural value when we design, build, and consume objects, can enable a more resilient ecology of objects. The object also increases in its complexity by showing the systems that underlie its origins. Complexity instigates more connections, more possibilities, the production of difference.

As westerners, we have borrowed a bastardized idea of the Japanese aesthetic wabi-sabi and incorporated it by distressing furniture and enjoying driftwood. I bring wabi-sabi up here, though, not to excoriate Western value but to talk of its positive potentialities. Briefly, wabi-sabi is the appreciation of things imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete, borrowing Leonard Koren’s phrase. It’s not an ideal that’s easily transferred over into “designed”, mass produced objects, as wabi-sabi tends to be expressed in organic, stochastic processes that manifest over time, and is appreciated in a moment of peak experience. I mention wabi-sabi because there is a modality of designing and allowing for objects that improve over time, and the practice of maintenance and repair culture, that has deep roots in long-standing aesthetic traditions, and there is significant source material and referent to be uncovered.


How to design for patina in a digital age, an age of materials designed in labs rather than natural process? Though Koren takes this on, to some degree, is his second book Wabi-Sabi: Further Thoughts.

Our current cultural product generally ages poorly; electronics have updates, batteries die, processors and modems improve, we crave higher resolution displays. To that end, we have been trained that these things are not only expected, but inevitable. How might we design plastic enclosures that age well? How might we design objects that can be fixed or modified for longevity? To design for patina is a cultural imperitive. We have limited resources, and those resources are in decline. We use massive amounts of energy in the creation of the new. Our landscape is covered with the relics of the computing age. We are moving so fast we cannot keep up with ourselves, and we are running out of space and time. To imagine of a world without consumption is both unrealistic and unlikely — as Frederic Jameson wrote, “It has become easier to imagine the end of the world than the end of capitalism”, but to consume with intention, to live with our choices, is the goal of the long-lived object.

Finding references in the world of organic materials and clothing is relatively easy. To seek out similar referents for the digital, mass-produced object is a challenge, and few companies chase down the object that truly gains value over time, what Michael Helms would call “agathonic design”.

I did want to note that some mass consumer companies like Leica design durable objects that do improve with use. Mechanical actions break in, co-evolve with each other’s minor manufacturing inconsistencies that are beyond measure to create seamless operational joy. The paint wears down, revealing the quality and heft of the material underneath the superficial skin, mirroring the aesthetic conditions of precious glinting through the darkness that Tanizaki writes about in In Praise of Shadows.

As a side note, the nearly unbelievable reality expressed below is a Leica that has been hand finished to display the patina of age and use. In fact, it’s a special edition digital Lenny Kravitz x Leica MP Type 240 that retails for $24,500, and like a pair of jeans that have creases pre-worn, the value that is added through time and energy comes embedded in the thing, negating the work needed to bring it to a level of deep personalization. There is no true value created — the thing is not worn or customized by the owner, it is the simulation of patina. Close, thank you Leica / next time… We understand the beauty of patina as a cultural value, but are often unwilling to put the work in to develop the artifact, and live the process ourselves.

https://www.cameraplex.com/5-absurdly-luxurious-special-edition-leica-cameras/

An example of a utility object that I like a great deal are the cups designed by both both Heath Ceramics (r) and Hasami Porcelain (l), the former American, the latter Japanese.

When initially manufactured, each of these cups has an exposed, unglazed rim. The surface exposes the raw materiality of the internal structure of the cup, the grain of the clay. Over time, through use, the rim wears down, becoming smooth. The cup grows with the owner, changing over time.


The object that decays over time is perfect in the box it ships with, and begins its immediate descent as soon as it becomes useful, activated into our service.

https://i.ytimg.com/vi/rFnRKmkNGXg/maxresdefault.jpg

Though there is a hint of “patina” on the Fitbit, it only detracts from both its beauty and utility value, to say nothing about the impossibility of repair. Jewel-like in inception, these surfaces that are the output of our contemporary cultural creation are sleek and hard, offering no entry point, and are conduits for information rather than offer opportunities for discovery. There is no additonal complexity possible.


The binary of patina/decay presents the most transferable set of values when it comes to the design of objects. As we move forward, the sets become more esoteric, speaking to systems level operations, ecologies of design and process.

Rafi Ajl

Written by

Rafi Ajl

invsbl.us / imperfect evidence / do+make fail

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade