Jigsaw Editorial

A film editor lives in a fictional world, represented by the computer screen reflected upon them. To completely dive into this world, distractions, like light reflections, need to be blocked out, and so, typically, a film editor’s world revolves around a hermetically closed black box. What does that mean for an architect who is asked to design a stimulating workspace and create an environment that allows for both social interaction and provides a place of seclusion? Confronted with this challenge when they were commissioned to design Jigsaw, a film editing company the architects transformed this rough 5,000 SF bow-truss warehouse into a new and unexpected world. Located in an industrial part of West Los Angeles within a rather featureless neighborhood the project incorporates independent forms separating the building envelope from the interior space, reminiscent of urban structures, as if to compensate for Los Angeles’ lack of public space. The interior is designed in the spirit of these hidden worlds. The program - offices, library, socializing zones and, most importantly, the editing rooms – are accommodated within a variety of volumes and spaces that relate to each other, creating a balance in tension. The volumes do not touch the ceiling and the original warehouse space can be read in its entirety. The circulation zone between them extends throughout the entire space, creating a constant notion of movement. The perimeter of two sides of the interior is a belt of equally sized service spaces. An open kitchen and the reception area are on the third side, while the fourth side is kept clear, allowing daylight to enter through the windows and passers-by to get a glimpse of the central space. Taking up the entire stage that is surrounded by the ancillary rooms, two curvaceous volumes are suspended over a shallow pool of water. Their overwhelming presence can be sensed throughout the space. With a skin of sleek gray lead, they resemble a pair of playing ocean mammals; their heavy bodies in mid-air, escaping the pool, if not the building. The paradox of the inversion of heavy & light is reinforced as the mirror-like surface of the water below reproduces their image and even more so, when occasionally artificially produced steam sheathes the two volumes like fog, completely detaching them from the ground. The first thing that is visible of these volumes upon entering the space is their cut-off end pieces; two white, pixilated screens that confront each visitor like two giant eyes. Although the substance of the screens conveys the impression of transparency, one can not look beyond their fuzzy surface. This gives a clue of what is contained within. Despite being the most dynamic elements within the space, the most secluded and quiet areas – editing and producers’ rooms – are placed here. The screens are windows that filter the light from the outside, creating a fuzzy condition between darkness and light and thus enabling work on a computer screen. They act as an interface between the private and the public zones, providing visual contact and simultaneously guaranteeing privacy. This way the often-isolated work on the computer is soothed by contact to the outside world. From a distance, it is hard to tell what these screens are made of. Only at a closer look does this ethereal, glittering and out-of-focus substance reveal itself as quite ordinary materials: one window is filled bottom-to-top with ping-pong balls while the other is filled with acrylic beads. From a distance the eye doesn’t read the details and instead connect either the elements or the gaps to a whole picture, depending on the direction of the light. Consequently, they appear solid from the outside, where the light projects onto the screen. This visual principle is inverted on the interior of the studio as the eye reads the gaps between the filling. As one comes closer, what is beyond becomes sharper and the gaps more apparent, much like an Arabic screen, where the observer inside remains unseen. This relationship between object and space is also discovered at a larger scale of the overall space. While the volumes within the building envelope have their own distinct form, the space around them is merely an in-between, residual space that takes on the negative shape of the volumes. These interstitial spaces form niches for informal encounters, waiting zones for clients, and interior terraces on the water, that offer views from a different vantage point. The variety of informal spaces incorporated in the design allows clients and staff to have spaces to relax and to socialize. In addition, the entire entrance zone acts as a café that facilitates informal meetings and client interaction. Social activity is thrown into the limelight. On the opposite side of the café is the reception area, growing out of the linoleum floor material. The reception desk is deliberately moved from the entrance door, encouraging the visitor to absorb the space freely immediately. The design of Jigsaw attempts to create a series of balanced tensions – between isolation and interaction, movement and static, light and heavy and between light and dark, generating a complex spatial experience, turning an office space into an inspiring playground.