그랜드 인터뷰
Lumin 샤프펜슬 · 10 질문
LUMIN was born at a moment when I needed to understand myself. A hexagonal aluminum bar left in the workshop where I taught became the medium through which I explored that search.
Your innovative approach to eliminating traditional mechanisms in the Lumin Mechanical Pencil by utilizing aluminum's natural elasticity is fascinating - could you elaborate on how this material-driven design philosophy emerged and evolved during your development process?
LUMIN was born at a moment when I needed to understand myself. A hexagonal aluminum bar left in the workshop where I taught became the medium through which I explored that search. With no complex tools—only a lathe and the freedom to experiment—I began turning, drilling, and subtracting material. In the act of emptying the aluminum, I was also emptying something within me. From that simplicity emerged the project’s philosophy: letting the material define the mechanism. The natural elasticity of aluminum replaced traditional systems and gave shape to the graphite-holding clamp.
The Lumin Mechanical Pencil appears to be both a functional tool and an emotional statement about emptiness and authenticity - how did your personal introspection shape the final form and features of this writing instrument?
The shape of LUMIN was born almost by inertia of the material itself: the hexagonal aluminum bar defined the initial gesture. When I saw the first prototype holding the graphite, the aluminum was opaque, without shine, and I understood that this object was not only a tool, but a reflection of myself at a time when I also felt out of step with my times. LUMIN ended up being an honest way of giving form to that emotional authenticity.
Given that the Lumin Mechanical Pencil was conceived during your time as a university professor, how does this design serve as a statement about the enduring value of traditional education and hands-on learning in our increasingly digital world?
In my country, education—and especially public education—is a flame that we seek to protect and keep alive. LUMIN was born while I was teaching, in an environment where manual work and critical thinking retain a fundamental value. In contrast to the digital world, the mechanical pencil proposes a return to the origin: to the idea that appears as a vortex and is honestly materialized through graphite. It is a reminder of the importance of practical learning and the moment when hand and material build knowledge together.
The production process for the Lumin Mechanical Pencil involves both CNC machining and manual finishing - could you walk us through how this hybrid approach contributes to the unique character and quality of each piece?
In the production of LUMIN, I never wanted it to be just a piece that emerged from a CNC machine. That process brings precision, but I felt the need to leave a more human mark. That's why the final finish is a completely manual polish: it doesn't seek industrial perfection, but an authentic surface, with small variations that speak of the gesture of the person who worked on it. That blend of mechanization and craftsmanship connects each piece with the person who safeguards it.
Your decision to limit the Lumin Mechanical Pencil to 100 units, despite the economic challenges this posed, seems significant - how does this intentional scarcity relate to the deeper message about authenticity and personal reflection embedded in the design?
The decision to produce only 100 units arose from thinking of LUMIN as a fragment, a part of a personal process that colleagues encouraged me to share. I wondered how many fragments could exist without losing authenticity. Thus was born the numbered pre-series of 100 initial pieces, almost as a way to let the project breathe and see how far it could go. Today, a new series crosses the ocean.
The packaging of the Lumin Mechanical Pencil appears to be an integral part of the design narrative - could you explain how its design elements symbolically reinforce the themes of emptiness and transformation central to this project?
From the very beginning of the pre-series, I understood that LUMIN needed packaging that extended its narrative. The packaging represents the emptiness we can all find ourselves in at some point, a silent space where form has yet to emerge. Only when we find our own breaking point does the light manage to pierce through that emptiness. Thus, the packaging is not just a container: it is part of the project's central message.
As the Lumin Mechanical Pencil represents such a personal journey for you, how has winning the Silver A' Design Award influenced your perspective on the relationship between personal expression and commercial design?
Winning a Silver A' Design Award was an incredible recognition. Beyond its professional value, it confirmed that LUMIN was not just a commercial product, but a message that could be heard. It reinforces for me that design can be an intimate expression without losing its place in the commercial world.
The unique operational flow of the Lumin Mechanical Pencil, particularly its lead adjustment mechanism, seems to demand mindful interaction - how does this intentional user experience align with your vision of the object as a tool for introspection?
With LUMIN, the user experience is linked to the memories each person builds with the object. The aluminum records these memories with marks, scratches, or dents that are etched like tattoos on the skin. This imprint transforms the mechanical pencil into an emotional key: a tool that not only writes but also remembers.
Looking at the Lumin Mechanical Pencil's journey from prototype to patented design, what insights have you gained about bridging the gap between artistic vision and industrial production?
The most profound lesson was understanding that every process needs its time. From understanding an idea to going through it and embracing it, each stage has its own rhythm. LUMIN taught me that artistic vision and industrial production can meet when each finds its place, without time, without rush.
The Lumin Mechanical Pencil embodies both minimalist design principles and complex emotional symbolism - how do you envision this balance influencing future developments in writing instrument design?
LUMIN was the answer to a personal quest and a trigger for conversations with others. It gave me absolute freedom to balance design and emotion. That process opened a new chapter in how I think about objects: understanding that an instrument can be minimalist and, at the same time, contain profound symbolism. That balance will continue to guide my future developments.
