Office Of The Future
Back in the 70’s, 1970s, Wow, strange to see the date in print, I worked as a Space Planner for a large financial company, insurance actually. There were 2200 employees in the Philadelphia home office and a hundred or so small agencies throughout the country. We were responsible for the smooth transition of shifting the moveable part of the workload; the furniture, the equipment. I was one of four designers. We made evaluations of needs, suggestions, blueprints and were part of the Facility Department, which meant we had a team of carpenters, electricians , etc. Often the changes were instigated by the invention of a new machine. For example, a Xerox copier. This might shake up the purchasing department, and it would be our job to re-invent the wheel. Who needed to be near whom, and how did the paper flow and which clerk needed ready access to the file cabinets , etc. It was fascinating, a puzzle to solve daily, and I loved my work. We helped employees get the job done by getting information and planning for their needs. It was generally appreciated. We found it most effective when we got the information from the actual workers and the division managers. We studied who needed eye contact and how the document chain worked. Talking to the department heads or VPs was mainly fluff in order to get a budget approved.
I did not have a classical training to do this, but was given a chance and much support by my co workers as they broke me in. I was the mama in the group, single mother with two kids at home, a train ride away in the near suburbs.
They were a fun group, as artsy people tend to be. We swapped movie and book reviews, restaurants stories and gossip. Boy and girlfriend problems as well as the “Royals”. Our boss was very creative and generous with his knowledge. He did drink a little too early in the day, but it made him happy and we got the job done.
We all had our own u-shaped work-station; counters, file cabinets, drafting table, and adjustable architects’ light.
We made our initial drawings on yellow tissue paper, and then fed them into the blueprint machine. We designed several interior wall graphics, mostly linear and we helped the painting staff tape them out. I had the added pleasure of purchasing artwork for the corporation. New York print dealers came to my office. I also made some selections from local galleries. Live plants and artwork were on the lowest rungs of the budgets, but we always managed to leave some wiggle room for aesthetics. Color, if there was to be any carpet or chair covering, was up to the individual planner. We did work together so that connecting divisions were compatible. There was a limited selection of fabrics suitable for office interiors. The quality was counted by ‘rubs’. The colors were air line blue, office green, and that awful straw color. There was more of a variety when I stopped working and I like to think my hooting and hollering had something to do with the change.
I slowly learned my way around my drafting board, and have a bone spur on my elbow to prove it. I walked around with rubber bands on my wrists as I was always ready to pick up a blueprint, roll it and present it to someone.
It was the time when office interiors were changing. Open Planning was just beginning and computers were spewing fan folded paper off the backs of their bulky shapes. There was one floor in the building that was constantly on lock-down. It was chilled to the bone and had metal decking concealing the mega “wires” that fed the innards of the company ‘mainframe.’ It was all very secret and exciting.
It was a great job for a woman in those days. I went to Chicago for the trade show, Neocon, at the infamous Merchandise Mart and got to specify lots of General Fireproofing, Hauserman and several other manufacturers of metal modular office furniture and partitions.
The special fun was working with the executives who were entitled to wood furniture and larger private office space. A 10 x 15 foot space got you a desk, credenza, two guest chairs and a small sofa.
An employee could be known by his square footage, his proximity to the corner office and whether he had a window or not. Coat stands were also coveted. If you were told you were getting a new metal desk, you could be sure it was a demotion. If the sun came in behind you, you were a winner. Your guest had to squint to see your face, and then was never quite sure he got your message.
One of the companies we dealt with was having a survey, asking what, we as designers, thought the “office” would look like in the 21st century. We had a lot of fun kicking that one around. The closest to reality as it is now, was a bunch of dental type chairs, fully loaded with everything an employee could possibly need, including a spigot for our boss’s early AM drink. Files would not be stored in buildings where a company would have to pay rent for space. Files would be deep-sixed somewhere. Maybe in a crater of unknown origin. We did not envision the “I cloud” nor did we see that the ‘dental’ chairs would be in our living room and not on a floor in a corporate office park.
We did not envision a ‘bug’, a pandemic, a crisis like what we have just endured. I guess the right answer was above our Space Planning pay grade, and I am sure a coat stand is out of the question.
