Framing A Dream

 

 

 

It is a tree.

Standing only a foot high and weighing less than three pounds, it is crafted from wood, acrylic and metal pegs. Its sturdy branches cradle a small house guarded by a tall ladder.

It is the physical manifestation of a child’s dream. For 11-year-old Will, who has a terminal illness, the tree helps him see beyond the hospital walls, beyond them to his dream of one day visiting Disney World.

For the two design students at Arizona State University who created the tree, it represents more than a visit to a theme park. It is part of a special project called Framing a Dream for students in a third-year interior design studio. It is the result of their instructor’s challenge to create a piece of expressive art that represents a dream.

Amanda Heimer and Lynea Rodriguez designed and built Will’s Disney World tree. It was “a symbol of exploration and imagination,” Heimer said. “We knew that this was going to be important for him, and that made it so much more meaningful to us.”

The tree’s thick roots and strong trunk keep the house intact and remind Will that he has a steadfast foundation and support system. The outstretched branches inspire him to visualize and imagine. It is a tree, yes, but ultimately it is an interpretation of Will’s dreams.

It is a connection.

The Framing a Dream project began in 2004 through the efforts of Jose Bernardi, an associate professor in Arizona State University’s College of Design. The project focuses on connections, both the connections within the piece—such as the tree’s glue and metal pegs—and the human connections required to design a sculpture that truly gives back.

To launch the project, Bernardi got in touch with Tony Sola, vice president of education at the Southwest Chapter of the International Interior Design Association (IIDA). Sola, in turn, contacted the Phoenix Children’s Hospital. “The hospital was thrilled with the idea of creating an object that was an interpretation of a patient’s dream,” Sola said. “We called it Framing a Dream because it literally created a design, a frame that held the dream in a visual way.”

Now in its fourth year, the connection between the College of Design, IIDA and the Phoenix Children’s Hospital is strong. Each semester nurses at the hospital collect the children’s wishes and give them to Sola, who passes them along to Bernardi and his class. “The wishes make us laugh, and they make us cry,” Bernardi said. “Some are so heart-wrenching.”

Over the next five weeks, teams of two to three students draw, plan and transform a child’s dream. The students look at the dreams not only as wishes but also as interactive pieces. The young patients must be able to pick up and hold the sculptures so they’re participating in the emotional healing process.

The design students became invested in every part of the process. “Will’s dream was so simple to me,” Heimer said. “All he wanted was this one small thing. It made me want to do everything in my power to make his dream into something concrete.”

Bernardi marvels at the project’s transformative effect on students. “It starts as an assignment—a design piece that focuses on the physical connections and aesthetic aspect of interpreting the wishes of a client,” he said. “But during the 30-day work period, the assignment alters the experience of the student as much as the patient.”

The Health Insurance Portability & Accountability Act of 1996 (HIPAA) prohibits students from direct contact with the patients. The students do, however, create a video that explains their interpretation of the patient’s dream and the building process—a sort of one-way connection. Sola then delivers the projects and videos to the hospital during the holiday season in December.

“I’m amazed by what my students make every year,” Bernardi said. “It means so much to them to be creating something that will benefit another human being.”

It is a design.

Ultimately, it is a design that reflects knowledge of physical joints and connections. Yet it is also a design that reflects a dream. It is a conversation of emotions, words and tangible materials.

And beyond the physical manifestation of the dream, the students incorporate their own creativity and interpretation. “It was an emotional project,” Rodriguez said. “It was unlike any project I’ve completed during school, but it was also the most meaningful….We design everyday objects all the time, but this was something more.

This was a design that ultimately aided in the healing process of another person, and that meant everything to me.”

It is a passion.

Contact the reporter at Claire.Lawton@asu.edu.

 

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The Cronkite Zine showcases the coursework of individual students at the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication, Arizona State University.