PROJECT ALTAR
A Singular Focus
Initiated by Creative Director James Earls and Industrial Designer Ben Levinas, the project evolved from conversations about our relationship with objects—how we arrange them, carry them, and engage with them in our spaces.
What began as an observation about desk arrangements evolved into something more significant: an exploration of how objects transcend utility to become active participants in daily rituals.
A SINGULAR FOCUS
The fundamental problem with mindfulness is that it's been virtualised. Wellness has been reduced to a subscription. A notification reminds you to breathe—interrupting the very thing it's meant to facilitate.
What if presence had a physical form?
Designed as a sculptural shell that draws your attention through light and sound, Altar cultivates a deeper connection with our surroundings.
At 70cm tall, Altar operates in the space between timepiece and ritual vessel. Touch activates a precisely calibrated sequence that extends over 10.5 minutes: not long enough to become a burden, just long enough to create a rift in routine.
MATERIAL PRESENCE
A bronze object stands 70cm off the ground in a garden. Its form is both familiar and unplaceable—somewhere between a vessel from another century and something that could have been designed yesterday. Its form maintains a deliberate neutrality, honoring contemplative traditions without belonging to any specific one. You approach it. You place your hand on the cool surface. Light emerges from within as a bell tone sounds. The light pulses—growing brighter then dimmer in a rhythm that feels strangely attuned to your breath. Another bell, softer this time. You find yourself following the light without meaning to. Inhale as it brightens. Exhale as it dims.
Ten minutes pass. You couldn't say what happened during that time, only that you were somehow more present in it. Not relaxation exactly—more like a momentary suspension of background noise you'd forgotten was there.
Cast in bronze, not because bronze is culturally significant, but because it has a relationship with time that parallels the object's purpose. It will patina. Standing 70cm tall with a 42cm diameter, its weight and thermal mass create a sense of grounding. It will record touch. It will outlast trends, batteries, operating systems, and possibly you.
Altar's internal components will function for a decade, not product cycles.
ALTAR OPERATES IN THE SPACE BETWEEN TIMEPIECE AND RITUAL VESSEL. TOUCH ACTIVATES A PRECISELY CALIBRATED SEQUENCE THAT EXTENDS OVER 10.5 MINUTES. NOT LONG ENOUGH TO BECOME A BURDEN, JUST LONG ENOUGH TO CREATE A RIFT IN ROUTINE.
BEYOND THE INTERFACE
The bell within Altar produces tones whose intervals gradually extend throughout the session. These aren't alerts. They're invitations.
Most objects want your attention. Altar wants your inattention—the kind that comes when you stop trying so hard to focus. There are no settings to adjust, no preferences to set, no profiles to create. Just a single touch. This limitation isn't a bug; it's the feature.
The technology exists exclusively in service of the material. Light and sound become perceptible breath—a mirror for something usually invisible.
In an era of constant digital engagement, Altar provides an alternative—a moment of pause free from data collection and complexity. It invites reflection through tactile and sensory engagement rather than screens and notifications.
SPACE-MAKING
Place Altar in your garden. Place it in your office. Place it in the corner of a room where you never quite know what to do. At 70cm off the ground, it creates its own context—a gravity that subtly reorganizes the space around it. It’s a persistent invitation to a different mode of attention. You can walk past it a hundred times. The hundred-and-first time, you might touch it.
THE TECHNOLOGY EXISTS EXCLUSIVELY IN SERVICE OF THE MATERIAL. LIGHT AND SOUND BECOME PERCEPTIBLE BREATH—A MIRROR FOR SOMETHING USUALLY INVISIBLE.
THE SPACE BETWEEN
Altar is not self-care. It's not a productivity hack. It doesn't optimize anything. Instead, Altar occupies the space between problem and solution—the space where meaning happens. It's an object that doesn't justify itself through utility alone, but through the quality of engagement it facilitates.
It's about the space we give to ourselves—a proposition about how we create moments of meaning in our surroundings. Through its presence and subtle guidance, it invites a return to elemental experiences—breath, light, sound, and touch.
