Where Le Corbusier modeled his new modernity on the ocean liner, Reyner Banham took The Beatles' Yellow Submarine as the graphic avatar for Archigram's saccharine (and vulnerably pictorial) brand of technocracy. Both the sounds and images were saturated with psychedelic overtures--ecstasy in color--that were at once the anathema of the austere, functionalist modernism that preceded them and an aborted leap into a naive post-political future. Guinness' new deep sea bar--read that again--traverses the same "ludens-scape" advanced by the cartoon facsimiles of the Beatles and Archigram's hand-drawn utopias, and, it should be said, characterized by the latter's shallow premise that technology is not only inherently good but fun.
And really, how else to describe a submarine-turned-deep sea bar, beyond being a trivial, but sleek machine for fun? Jump Studios have realized the Beatles' graphic precedent, albeit, in less yellow and more polka dots, with their mobile abyssal taproom, which scales the depths of the Baltic Sea always in search of a good time.
Working with engineer Nicholas Alexander, the architects produced a design that maintained fidelity to stringent marine construction codes, while, nevertheless, achieving a formal and material adventurousness. Measurements taken from the submarine, based at the Stockholm Archipelago, dictated the scope of the intervention, which involved the design of a pre-fabricated interior shell constructed of GRP (glass reinforced plastic). The cozy 118 square-feet space is a continuous wall/floor surface with undulating nooks and ledges for seating and tables. The wall is covered in a blanket of uniform bubble-like rubber disks, which are at points embedded with LED lights or filled in with cup holders ( a must). Needless to say, the Guinness submarine is the first of its kind in the world, and the guest list is limited.