Losing the directions
Anyone
unfamiliar with LEGOs needs to stumble away from their videogame and smell the
plastic. Much like a toddler in a toyshop, the LEGO Group has reached out and
touched everything within reach.
In
1949, the first little red Automatic Binding Bricks poured from Ole Kirk
Christiansen’s imagination. In 1953, they became LEGO Bricks and you could
build anything with them — as long as it required only bricks, plates, axels,
and wheels. They did not include instructions. More specialized parts followed.
Then came town, farm, and space sets. Nowadays, LEGO is as tied into youth
culture as every other toy company: video games, movies, and apparel.
Out
of this mix of rainbow-colored plastic and undirected play, a culture of
creativity has arisen. For instance, Brickfest 2005 has come and gone and you
probably never even thought about going. Beginning on August 12, Adult Fans of
LEGO® (AFOLs) gathered at George Mason University in Washington, DC, where they
did unspeakable things with LEGOs. Judging from the 79-plus pages of photos
available at www.brickfest.com, AFOLs base their community on pirates, robots,
and architecture. Perhaps that’s the reason why Brickfest and its crazed
attendees seem so oddly delightful. At their best, they have taken the
directions out of the box and thrown them away.
Eric
Harshbarger (www.ericharshbarger.org/lego) has built giant LEGO mosaics of Alice in Wonderland characters. Henry
Lim (www.henrylim.org/Harpsichord.html) has built a functioning harpsichord out
of LEGOs and wire. Until it’s your turn to borrow the harpsichord, the best
online LEGO-related entertainment remains the Brick Testament (www.thebricktestament.com)
created by Brendan Powell Smith. Smith has received a lot of publicity for his
LEGO creations over the years (and published a few books), but there remains
something magical about a well-executed LEGO diorama.
— Craig Brownlie
This article appears in Sep 7-13, 2005.
