Motels and furniture designed to have sex.
There is no more honest building than a motel: from its facade, its signs and typography, its lights and colors and its hidden way of going unnoticed during the day to only shine at night.
A motel, with its architecture, says what it is made for, evidences its function, its program and its typology, it does not lie. It looks out from a bridge with its red, tinkling sign; its purple façade and its not at all subtle vehicular entrance. “WELCOME: PACKAGES OF $400 PER NIGHT OR 2X1”.
Unlike the rest of the buildings, it speaks clearly, a clarity that falls into cynicism, but it is transparent, and that is appreciated. The motel does not pretend to be something that it is not, and not only on the outside, in its most public view, but also on the inside, where that frankness is intensified, from the furniture that is used to the channels that are on the television.
Form follows function, that's a fact. The aesthetics is given by the color, the shape and that texture of plastic like a gym. Objects designed to have sex: beds that rotate, swings, chairs that also pass for armchairs. The name does not matter, what matters is its function and the user's imagination, which is stimulated by the design of the furniture.