I didn’t know where I was or how I had arrived. The room was hazy and a musty smell filled the air as if no one had set foot in this place for years. It was mostly dark except for a dim glow slipping out from under an old wooden door at the other side. I wondered what the room had been like and who had worked here. Most of the furniture had been removed except for a few scattered chairs and some large objects I couldn’t quite make out.
Perhaps there would be someone in the other room. I walked over and opened the door, not sure what to expect. The room was bathed in a yellow glow and it was deserted. Old office furniter was strewn about haphazardly…desks, chairs, file cabinets…all unused and covered in dust. There were some lights hanging from the ceiling and a couple desk lamps, all of which were on. For some reason I felt compelled to touch one just a few feet in front of me. It was an exposed bulb just hanging from the ceiling with a tattered black chord.
As soon as my finger touched the glass, it stuck for a moment and then when I pulled it away it was as though I had unplugged a whole. Molten glass oozed out and slowly poured out down onto the desk, flowing freely over the surface and down the side, filling up the drawers. It was beautiful. I went around and touched all the others, setting them free. The room overflowed with glowing glass as it dripped down old cabinets and chairs.
This was a dream I had some time ago, so you can imagine my surprise when I looked at Dezeen and found the images of an exhibit in Milan by Dutch designer Pieke Bergmans who seems to have brought my dream to reality! The lighting pieces are part of her Design Virus series and are made of hand-blown bulbs containing LEDs. The designer described them as being infected…“These symptoms are unique, their phenomena unpredictable. The Light Bulbs accepting their fate and the pull of gravity.”
Artwork: ‘Light Bulbs’ by Pieke Bergmans
Images via Dezeen, copyright Pieke Bergmans