Let's Just Pretend This Doesn't Exist: 3D Printed Poop
When historians are penning the history of 3D printing, this might go under the heading of most tasteless use of the technology: "3D printed disposable waste."
Some folks use 3D printers to model bold new architecture, build a prosthetic leg for an amputee duck or reimagine food for astronauts. Israeli designer Yariv Goldfarb, however, is relying on the technology to create plastic molds that he then uses to compress dog poop into various geometric shapes. So, to get it straight: It's the molds and not the poo that are 3-D printed, contrary to his wording – but seeing as how that's one of the least problematic things about this idea, let's just leave it.
For the second stage of his surely smelly project, Goldfarb brought the poo cubes out into Tel Aviv for a photoshoot, positioning them to mimic famous, larger and non-feces-based structures in the background. Why would he do this? Well, for one thing, it was part of his graduation project at the Bezalel Academy of Arts and Design in Jerusalem. University-level art never needs to make sense. But the designer also says he's making a comment about all the things urbanites take for granted in the frantic buzzing of the city-hive, specifically landmarks like skyscrapers and the above sculpture in Habima Square.
The doggie-dirt art "challenges normal social rules and behavior," he writes:
'play with poop' helps to raise people's awareness of their surroundings. the mini poop sculptures were placed in front of several landmarks in tel aviv in the shape of these same landmarks –- reminding the people who walk next to them everyday to take a second look, instead of ignoring them.
As foul an endeavor as it was, Tel Aviv's citizenry bears part of the blame for inspiring it. Just look at the dog park where Goldfarb sourced his material and note how much excrement is lying on the ground. Why aren't people picking it up?
Get ready, here comes the poop. The full set:
Lounging in front of City Hall:
In front of the Azrieli Center, a $350-million skyscraper complex:
Almost where it belongs, on the ground at a dog park: