Morning Rituals

 

Starting September 1st, 2015 the SEYMOUR+ space will have NEW HOURS! We will be open to the public Tuesday through Saturday from 12 Noon to 8pm. We will be closed on Sundays.

Because of this change in hours we will regretfully be saying goodbye to Iñigo Martinez Moller who was responsible for opening the space each day and greeting the public in the early mornings these past few months.

We loved working with Inigo and we look forward to other collaborations with him in the future. Iñigo wrote a beautiful essay about his time at SEYMOUR+ and we are honoured to share it with you.

 

MORNING RITUALS by Iñigo Martinez Moller

In the Seymour+ space, getting everything ready implies a series of simple actions: Setting the framed Rorschach back in its place; cutting the cucumber in even thin slices; aligning pads, pencils, books, envelopes, papers and chairs; erasing almost invisible dots from the mirror; making imperfect balls of clay and wrapping them in plastic; setting each environment back to its original layout with precision. During these seven months I’ve developed theories, created new methods and perfected techniques that I’ve kept for myself. For example, what’s the optimal size of a piece of plastic wrap to hold a clay ball with a diameter of around 5cm, and how do you fold it so that, once on a table, all the folds remain hidden? What’s the exact force that you need to apply on a stubborn blind so that it opens with two quick moves only? (This last one took three tough months to solve.)

After going through the five environments, I still have a little spare time that I typically invest in the Secret Garden, doing nothing, sitting still. Noticing that one plant magically holds a drop of water in the very edge of its huge leaves in an impossible balance; looking at the sand on the hourglass falling through the seconds, soundless; smelling the soil, the green and the purplish light. This makes my day even before it’s really begun. 8AM, back upstairs, I’m ready to face the world and welcome our customers.

I’m now sitting in this charmingly unstable vintage stool behind the welcome desk, hands on marble, three hours ahead of me. I can’t access technology; people come here to disconnect and having computers or cell phones running around would be disturbing. Like many among you, most of the things that I do during the day imply multitasking within a small screen, jumping from my emails to Photoshop to Facebook to In Design and back again. I’m a freelancer and, even in periods when I don’t have much to do, I tend to get carried away on the Internet.

In the beginning I thought that I’d read at Seymour+, and so I did. But, at some point, I felt that I needed to do, so I began drawing. I’ve never had a natural talent with pencils or brushes, but drawing gives me a sense of freedom that I don’t get by any other means. When I’m doing it my thoughts are anywhere else and nowhere at all. Like with any other craft, I feel that I get better at it the more I practice. If I complete one drawing that I like (one in five in my best periods) I get this mix of proudness and satisfaction that tops all of the rest.

Then there’s the people. You. Greeting visitors who come for the first time to disconnect from the outside world and unveil the mystery of a space like no other is so rewarding. Most of you have enjoyed your visits as much as I have been pleased to greet you and hear how your interaction with the space has moved you. Posting your letters has also been very touching; in a city that’s mostly grey, full of rudeness, where we all rush, these handwritten pieces of paper addressed to people all over the world mean a lot. I’m quite sure that they mostly contain words of love that you might never have shared otherwise, and that fills me with joy.

This job, being here for three hours each morning, has become one of the most rewarding things that I’ve done – and I have worked with many different clients and people in very diverse domains. Thank you Melissa, Will and Nora for counting on me, and thank you all for coming. It has really been my pleasure.

 

Iñigo Martinez Moller, 2015