The fifth issue of the annual magazine that promotes knowledge and techniques in design, crafts and industry, addresses the topic of rotational movement.

Rotation: The world spins, and with it, everything in it: you, me, the trees, the oceans, and the mountains. We might have fallen into the illusion that everything is still, but the reality is that we are in constant motion. The planet rotates on its axis and orbits the sun, and, in a way, at this very moment, we are all products of rotation: life on Earth is only possible thanks to the cycles of days, seasons, and years. As Simon Bauchet writes in his article "Rotating Machines," human beings have always used rotational motion to power machines and create the material world around us. Rotation is more than just a word: it is a dynamic, a force, a necessity, even a philosophy. Craftspeople know this well. Their workshops are full of rotating objects: the potter's wheel, the carpenter's lathe, the spindle of the spinner who spins wool to make yarn. Glass can also be shaped by glassblowers into discs, which capture light and are the forerunners of the panes in our modern windows. Antique glass is proof of this knowledge: irregular and vibrant, its appearance reflects its artisanal production. It is not an easy material to work with: you have to understand its rhythm, guide its movement, and follow the shape it wants to take, rather than trying to control it. We ask ourselves: why does rotation often make it more manageable? Why does turning it make it lighter? It all depends on mastering rotation, on the balance between speed and precision. Every movement, every turn, is important. Too fast and everything falls apart; too slow and nothing takes shape.
We also explored other realms. We reviewed basic physics concepts: centrifugal, gravitational, and gyroscopic forces, like those that allow a frisbee to glide through the air. Wherever energy is found in nature's chaotic movements, humans have found ways to capture it with spinning technologies. Windmills, testaments to centuries of ingenuity, their blades turning with the slightest breeze, have now been replaced by often gigantic hydroelectric turbines that transform the energy of water into electricity. Turntables, kinetic sculptures that make the wind visible through their continuous rotation, reflect our need to play with movement: not only to use it, but also to admire it for what it is: a phenomenon both powerful and hypnotic. And then we look up and see more circles. The cycle of the seasons repeats itself endlessly. The sun rises, sets, and rises again. The moon waxes, disappears, and is reborn. The cyclical nature of these natural rhythms gave rise to another human invention, one that hasn't stopped turning since: time! Ever since we began measuring it with clocks, time has achieved the feat of turning while constantly moving forward. We might think that turning means repeating, being condemned to return to the starting point. But that's not the case. Rotation is progress. Each turn takes us somewhere new. Each cycle, even if it seems identical, is actually a variation, a new step. It's a loop that never closes; at least, that's how we see it in this new edition of Tools. There's something dizzying about this idea. If everything turns, nothing stops. Time moves forward, inexorably. On the hands of clocks, the holes trace endless circles. It reminds us that everything will pass, that everything will change. That we, too, are part of this great movement: our existence is a revolution, a cycle with a beginning and an end. It's like a record where the needle follows the grooves endlessly, playing the same melody over and over, but never exactly the same song. The human body can also spin. Spinning dancers—defying gravity, playing with balance, creating movement with their own inertia—are well acquainted with this vertigo. Take the example of the skater who accelerates their rotation by bringing their arms closer to their body, or the pole dancer who uses their weight distribution to move around the pole. Playing with this vertigo and turning it into a source of creation and expression is one of the many beautiful things humans know how to do. Even our thoughts follow a circular logic. In French, an idea that arises, disappears, and then returns in another form is said to "turn in a circle" (literally) or "constantly repeat" (figuratively). This doesn't have to be a negative thing: returning to the same intuitions and images again and again allows them to mature and reach their ideal form, like a ball of clay on the potter's wheel. This issue of Tools magazine is the most dynamic yet. It's agile, vibrant, and dynamic; it almost leaves us speechless. It is inspired by nature, but also by human hands, which have always guided and shaped a constantly moving world.