Design And Big Money
Design And Big Money
Now that the market is in charge, there seems little left of the critical awareness of Dutch designers. No one still talks about the modernist ideals of affordable, good products or the postmodern investigation of the limits of design. Designers are diving en masse into producing one-of-a-kinds and small editions that find eager buyers among wealthy collectors. A few years ago, the international art market discovered design, and as a result, speculation is flourishing in the galleries, trade fairs and major auction houses. This market attention goes hand in hand with a phenomenon that had hitherto only appeared sporadically: the rise of limited editions, products intentionally produced in small numbers, mostly by hand and often employing expensive materials. This lucrative trade is good news for the design world, especially in the Netherlands, where a relatively high number of products is made in limited editions. The Netherlands has for some time recognized the artistic ambitions of designers, but it is only now that this acknowledgment comes in concrete form. It all began some seven years ago, with growing attention for exceptional design articles from the early 20th century. This interest subsequently shifted to contemporary design. When an example of the Lockheed Lounge Chair, designed in 1986 by Marc Newson, was sold by Sotheby’s for $986,000, it was the highest amount ever paid for design by a living designer (with the value of the prototype already estimated at a multiple thereof). With this, the trend was set. Along with objects that existed only in small editions, prototypes for mass-produced designs rapidly gained popularity. A next step was set by the limited editions that have been produced for several years now, either on the initiative of the designers themselves or commissioned by such design galleries as Cibone in Tokyo, Kreo in Paris, Friedman Benda and Moss in New York, organizations such as Droog Design and a variety of international companies. Economic recession seems so far to have no influence on the lucrative trade in design, and because its speculation value rises so rapidly, even the auction houses are commissioning design. Tord Boontje designed a cupboard commissioned by Mallett, an auction house that had hitherto only traded in antique furniture (with branches in London and New York). The eccentric object was handcrafted by dozens of professionals and offered at €300,000 at the recent Milan furniture fair. Not only the work of renowned designers is being produced in small quantities, but more and more young designers, whom people hope will become the stars of tomorrow, are enjoying the honour. Top prices for chairs, tables and lamps (averaging between $30,000 and $300,000) are brought in by Zaha Hadid, Ron Arad, Jaime Hayon, the Bouroullec brothers and the Campana brothers. Amongst Dutch designers, limited editions by Marcel Wanders and Studio Job (Job Smeets & Nynke Tynagel) are attracting international attention. Studio Job recently turned over more than $1 million at a solo exhibition in New York. Immediately behind them are Richard Hutten, Hella Jongerius, Wieki Somers and a handful from the newest generation of young designers. Interestingly enough, the Netherlands’ most consistently successful designer is the visual artist, Joep van Lieshout.
The Star Designer Ideal
The commercial success of the design trade has its consequences. The field has won in prestige and is enjoying all the attention. Even the art pages of the best newspapers are today giving considerable space to design, whereby it needs to be noted that most of the attention is about market successes. Only minimal or no attention at all is paid to the substance or content of the individual works. Because the Netherlands has produced a relatively high number of well-known designers, today, not a single potential star designer can escape the alert eyes of the international media. As a result, almost without exception, design students are aspiring to studios of their own where they can create ‘free’ works. Offers from prestigious companies, such as the American textile manufacturers, Maharam, Samsonite luggage or the Swiss furniture emporium, Vitra – only ten years ago just a wild dream for every designer – are being haughtily turned down by even the youngest designers, who are convinced there is a more glorious career awaiting them as an independent top designer. Many upcoming young designers have also proudly announced that the chair or table just completed for his or her final exam at school is being produced in a limited edition in expensive materials. Should someone have warned them that you never make a sale without a reputation and considerable media hype? Such wise advice was probably ignored with a dismissive wave of the hand and a reminder of the flashy careers of fellow designers who had the spunk to do the very same thing just a few years ago. The burnt furniture with which Maarten Baas graduated in 2002 attracted media attention around the world. A few years on, his media-genic work is adored by Dutch television programs, such as Buitenhof (the black, scorched table) and Zomergasten (chairs, tables and fan made of plasticine) and in the international arena, he can ask €60,000 for each of ten sculpted cabinets (with the appropriate title, Sculpt). Members of his generation who likewise made instant scores include Joris Laarman and Demakersvan (Joep & Jeroen Verhoeven and Judith de Graauw). Seen in a global perspective, a relatively large number of Dutch designers are doing very well indeed. Yet this success is itself relative. Only a handful are able to continue bringing in these exceptional prices (with the exception of Tord Boontjes’ cupboard, the pricetags of the Dutch designers vary between €10,000 and €80,000). We are in fact talking of a marginal phenomenon. Even the successful designers mentioned above cannot keep their businesses going without grants or subsidies from the Mondriaan Foundation and/or the Foundation for Fine Arts, Design and Architecture, as the annual subsidy figures of these foundations demonstrate. Even less is to be earned by all those overly courageous designers who want to step straight into the footsteps of their predecessors by investing in special editions. In all probability, they will be left with their expensive products and massive debts. They lack a realistic vision of their chosen field and have no idea how to establish a professional practice. Indeed, where should a young designer set his sights in a time when established designers claim that design is ‘the new art’, while its value is usually being confused with the marketing success of the exception to the rule?
Dubai Design
It is no wonder that design is moving closer and closer to the world of art. In the wealthy part of the world, the design of functional objects has long since had little more to do with the production of basic, instrumental functionality. Consumerism is promoted through image, new trends and exclusivity; the true function of design is added value. But in contrast to basic functionality, for which we can still think up criteria, added value is difficult to judge in terms of inherent qualities. Where, for example, is the turning point? When is an object that has lost its function still design? Where is the point that it becomes art and becomes subject to different criteria for evaluation (something can be said for the opposite phenomenon as well: when does art know how to penetrate the layers that are expected of art and when is it stylized design)? Benda, the business partner of the New York gallery owner Larry Friedman, declared in the September 2007 issue of Men’s Vogue, ‘I don’t differentiate. What’s the difference between something on a canvas and something sitting on the floor? Somebody like Ron Arad deserves to be exhibited beside all the great sculptors.’[1] Here speaks a dealer for whom it is convenient not to make distinctions, as long as the market still has the money. But is it true? Is design the ‘new art’? Some limited editions are undeniably beautiful, whether or not they pretend to be art or design. But others are already being referred to as gaudy ‘Dubai design’. It is indicative of the design world, however, that these works are being publicly referred with great caution or indeed outright silence. It is in everyone’s best interest. In order to evaluate design, it is good to assess the effect it has within its own field. In what way does the work contribute to thinking in terms of functionality, added value and the role of design in today’s world? While the added value of products is sought around the world in recognizable, aesthetic style, since the 1990s, the products of the Dutch have postulated visions and commentary on their own profession and the excesses of the consumer society, which was at that point beginning to burst its seams. Indeed, in the last few years, even this recalcitrant conceptual design has developed into an acceptable, familiar style that has even conquered a favourable position in the market which it was previously criticizing. Artistic ambitions have worked themselves loose from their inclination towards ideological responsibility. The one-of-a-kinds and small editions of the moment are adding to the collections of a handful of powerfully wealthy consumers, art collectors and museums. In contrast to the modernist ideals of affordable, high-standard products and the postmodern questioning of the limits of design, we now have wildly expensive showpieces that used to belong in the cabinets of collectors of curiosa and handicrafts, where they bore witness to professional craftsmanship, to beauty that was considered timeless and most of all to financial preciousness. The critical role with which Dutch designers were examining their profession has been taken over by others. A year ago, Jasper Morrison and Naoto Fukasawa presented their vision of design at the Milan Furniture Fair, at the very moment that so much attention was being expended on the limited editions trend. By way of a book and an exhibition, with the significant title of Super Normal, they denounced the visual pollution of showy, non-functional design and expressed a plea for high quality standards, working and simple usable objects.[2] The English designer Tom Dixon went even further. He had inexpensive variations of his designs produced in large editions and distributed them free of charge at public happenings. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any anti-design movement, and there should be. Everyone is trying to be Marc Newson and sell a million-dollar chair.’[3]Some of the limited editions that are successful sellers celebrate the importance of labour-intensive craftsmanship, fitting seamlessly into a respected, centuries-old tradition, but far and away the majority of these products bear witness neither to any ambition for a higher standard of craftsmanship, nor to critical investigative thinking, but are instead testimony to the marketing talents of the designer able to fully exploit the design hype. And this is certainly visible in the results. Designers are making limited editions by simply reproducing existing designs in some expensive material, or for example, they produce a complex and expensive object with no effort whatsoever to avail themselves of the skills of the industry to produce an affordable version – the ultimate design challenge since the profession was born. Truly rare are the experiments that excite the imagination, produced by designers seriously in search of fresh insights. One of these is the ‘centrepiece’ designed by Jurgen Bey & Rianne Makkink for Tichelaar Makkum. Referring to the ceramic flower pyramids of the 17th and 18th centuries, they created a stack of ceramic pails generously adorned with nonfunctional handles and other extras. These fragile objects have several layers of meaning, but the one that springs first to mind is the tension between the functional object that demands attention simply for its own sake and the functional product that has proven itself invaluable for a multitude of purposes. It now remains to be seen whether the limited edition of seven pieces can also generate money.Louise Schouwenberg
Louise Schouwenberg
