Fabrique,
dettaglio tecnico /
Fabrique,
technical detail /
Studio per la stampa
della superficie
in legno /
Study for printing
the wooden
surface /
Fabrique,
costruzione tecnica /
Fabrique,
technical construction /
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TECHNICAL
INFORMATION
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— Fabrique
Marc Sadler
08
09
Upon leaving the palace, Aureliano found himself directly on the street
of the loft complex where Sadler had his cabinet. There were no trams,
carriages like in Largo Treves ex-Morani, only rows of cars parked
along the pavements: a cacochromy of painted metal sheets that made
him shudder, after the comfort of the Sellier’s house and - he had to
admit - the warmth emanating from the young woman with blue-grey
eyes.
The evening was just about to turn into night, so Camelia gave up
his mental calculations about how long he had been somewhere else.
He hurried to reach Sadler’s loft, knocked lightly, opened the door
softly, and popped in jokingly with his head first. Sadler was sitting
at his desk and reading, but he noticed him, turned and looked at him
with a surprised and amused expression.
“Ah, le voilà engineer! It took so long for that errand.” he said with
a smile.
“I am sorry, Sadler, even an urgent phone call ... held me up for
a while” said Aureliano going to the desk.
“For a while? You left this place a year ago!” Sadler suddenly laughed.
Looking at him better, Camelia saw a different appearance: his eye-
brows slightly whiter, another haircut and Sadler was wearing a cardi-
gan well zipped up above his shirt.
Sadler noted that Aureliano was staring at the cardigan, and he speci-
fied: “Paola insists. I am hot, but she tells me to keep it zipped up.
Who knows why, then.”
“Sit down, engineer,” he continued, “I see you are a little tired. It seems
you come from another world.
“A year is long. “Adriano managed to say. “Are you sure, Marc?”
“Look at the calendar here on the wall. Can you see? It’s Halloween
today: but it’s in 2019.”
“It must have been the Einstein-Rosen bridge,” the engineer replied
jokingly, trying to take time to find an explanation of what had hap-
pened, but of course he didn’t have one.
Sadler, always lucid and logical, did not react and began to say what he knew.
“Anyway, don’t worry too much,” Sadler added. “Almost nobody has
noticed.”
“What, Marc? they must forcingly have noticed it in the company.”
“Throughout the year, e-mails and messages continued to arrive, both
at the company and to your daughter, where you explained that you
needed a sabbatical year. Every so often you also sent photos, you were
in different cities: especially in Milan and Paris.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You sent the photos, after all: you also seemed to be very happy.”
“Um, yeah. I had met - I tell it to you in confidence, as a friend - a
person with whom I got along very well...”
“Ah, I forgot.” Sadler interrupted him. “We have also made this at
the company, which you have not seen for real yet.”
And he showed him a beautiful sample of parquet still smelling of
birch, with the covering vein in noble wood placed overhead, so as to
form a sort of soft carpet. “It seems soft, to the eye and to the touch;
but it is very resistant.”
Sadler pointed out.
“Yes... but how did you manage?” Aureliano exclaimed shocked.
“We hadn’t even talked about this, we were working on another project...”
“Sure, but don’t you remember the e-mail exchange we had back then?”
“Which e-mails...?”
“Those in which I proposed to you to move on to this new idea.
Can’t you remember?”
“Well yes, yes, I can...”
“You wrote that you also had thought of something like that.”
“Of course, if I wrote it...”
“Really Aureliano, would you like a drink? A whiskey, a cognac?
Some of those I have here at the cabinet are very good.”
Natural Genius
A DESIGN STORY - Marc Sadler
