Concepts of scale and proportion have come down to us from
the ancient Greeks, the mathematicians of the Renaissance and 20th
century modernists like the architect Le Corbusier, who centered his
design philosophy on concepts of harmony and proportion. Yet, classical
proportions still make sense to us, we seem to have an innate sense of
the “rightness” of scale and proportion, as well as an ability to interpret
scale in terms of function and form.
Does the scale of an object feel right given its function and the context
in which it lives? What does scale communicate? The length and width
of a desk, its dimensions and proportions, may suggest appropriate
uses—and also the status of the user. An over-scaled chair or sofa
confers a heightened sense of drama and may convey authority. A trim,
lightweight seat suggests a more dynamic mode, a chair that users will
move around to suit changing tasks and activities. Thus, scale influences
human behavior, prompting an action or reaction whether or not we
have consciously interpreted the mathematics of scale at work.
Certainly scale, along with line and proportion, is a primary element of
design, a detail that defines the character of an object and one of the
key choices that is made in the process of design. The scale of the chair,
the table or the lamp—or the relative scale of one of its components—
makes the object distinct, expressive of its function and perhaps its
spirit of playfulness or restraint. One need only consider the exuberance
and wit with which a designer like Philippe Starck approaches scale with
his high sided, throne-like sofas and dramatically over-scaled clocks to
appreciate the expressive power of scale. At the same time, scale can be something simpler and more disciplined—the exact scale of the “bite”
that distinguishes the Apple logo, the economical measure of a tabletop
or the compact dimensions of a clock that is pared down to its essence, a
clock that is only a clock and does not double as decor or status symbol.