Conversations

An adaptive process and program
James Irvine

What is your approach to design?

My design philosophy is ever-changing. Every project has different needs and demands and has a different context; my design approach necessarily bends to fit the requirements of each project.

A designer must be adaptable. I find it interesting when a designer pulls back a bit. Currently, we live in times where designers have enormous egos. I’m interested in the product as the unsung hero.

What was the idea behind the Juno collection?

From the beginning, the concept was to create a one-shot, gas-assisted injection-molded chair program. The challenge of this project was in designing a program which took into account very high technology throughout the design process.

From a design perspective, I was very interested in slimming down the chair to make it feel visually and physically light. Without realizing, I was searching for a more traditional language closer to solid wood or plywood. I wanted to create something essential and crisp. To achieve the slim, light silhouette, the outside edge of the leg is a narrow eight-millimeters while its section increases in width towards the center of the chair to stabilize the legs and create overall structural integrity. Conceptually, this idea is more reminiscent of solid wood construction than of plastic. When you look at it in profile, it is thin — it’s a visual trick to try to make the whole chair look lighter. This construction is only possible because of the technology; using a gas assisted one-shot process the plastic is very precise. It’s like taking what I would consider the best of everything — precision, technology and classic concepts — and putting them all together.

What are the considerations behind using plastic as a material?

Plastic gives you the freedom to do incredibly fluid forms. You can do anything you like. That freedom can be enticing. But, like many technologies, after the excitement of exploring the parameters of what is possible, one tends to look for something which is more familiar, more true to the principles of “good design.”

With the introduction of any new technology, there is the opportunity to create symbolic expression of the innovation. My design process was more about controlling plastic than letting the material dictate the form. The Juno chair is a practical, elegant chair that I think will be long-lasting.

How do you evaluate good design?

Most recently, I have become interested in observating how people interact with a finished product. How do they react to an object? When someone is at ease, you know the product is a success. You gain a world of knowledge from watching the dialogue between a person and a produced design.

It is a reciprocal relationship. For me, this is a great inspiration.

Photo: Marco Covi

Design for Living
Lievore Altherr Molina

How do you approach your design practice?

Our starting point is always communication. Design for us is a dialogue, not self-fulfillment. Throughout the design process, we hope to instill the values we believe in: harmony and balance. Objects we design then become something more than a mere manifestation of a style; they are the synthesis of many layers of meaning into a single form.

What was your process of designing the Saya chair?

With Saya, we wanted to design a chair for Arper with the home as inspiration. Home for us evokes feelings of warmth and life. Wood seemed to us the material choice best suited to express this quality. We then looked to plywood for its constructive synthesis: it allows for a surface that is continuous, fluid and lightweight.
To articulate the form, we developed an expressive, graphic back. Its shape is inviting; it almost suggests a hug. In creating the form, we cut out small paper models in miniature and played with them, bending the paper in different ways to understand its possibilities. Its shape took on the character and form of a little animal: four legs and arching neck.
We felt que tiene alma (it had soul), a Spanish way to say it has something that is touching, emotive — like a graceful person or living creature. This was a quality we wanted to maintain. We thought it should feel lightweight and defined, but also sensual and soft — something someone would like to touch, like a pebble with the edges softened by the sea. With this in mind, we also chose to round the edges of the planes.
When the shell was complete, we began wondering which colors could combine to amplify the possibilities of wood without creating a contrast. We selected the finishing in wood (natural and teak colors), white, black, ochre and three different shades of red.
For us, red communicates both life and also a sign, connecting the color to the material.
We imagine that chairs in both veneers and colors can be used alone, or together.
One is a singular piece; several together create a rhythmic and lively pattern.

How does the Saya chair fit into the Arper family?

We see our chair as a kind of manifesto, an ode to wood. Made from organic and natural materials, it is evocative and feels alive. Like all Arper products, it is comfortable and useful in diverse environments, but we hope the Saya chair will always be reminiscent of the warmth of home.

How do you define good design?

For us, the essence of the design is a harmony between its parts. It is the relationship between form, material, color, functionality and their overall relationship to a space, a place, an environment, a culture. A design system should always be symbiotic — sympathetic to an environment or use it may be difficult or impossible to fully imagine. This is an essential idea for Arper: each collection is a system designed for constant growth and evolution.
Good design makes us fall in love, but often for different reasons. Is it perfect balance, icon status, strength, durability, synthesis, sensuality or ingeniousness? An object is well designed when its form seems inevitable. It could not have possibly been resolved in another way. Good design is timeless. Think of a simple, carved bowl from any part of the world: its form mirroring that of two hands held together to form a cup for drinking.
Is there anything more universal than that?

Photo credits: Marco Covi

Systems in forms in images

The creative team of photographer Maurice Scheltens and visual artist Liesbeth Abbenes focuses on still-life photography both as artistic endeavor and communicative medium. Together with studios 2×4 and Lievore Altherr Molina, the Amsterdam-based couple are responsible for the new images of Arper products displayed on this site.

Scheltens & Abbenes work is distinguished by technical refinement and attention to detail coupled with precise compositional clarity. This compositional strength is consistent throughout their oeuvre regardless of subject which ranges from the decadent arrays of flowers and food reminiscent of 17th-century Dutch still life painting to angular modern constructions of contemporary fashion accessories.

Their attention to the perspectival organization of objects, and often the intentional flattening of perspective through careful arrangement and camera position, yields a unique, graphic quality. At first glance the images can seem deceptively simple, but the seemingly two-dimensional organizations quickly yield a delicate sense of interconnection and transformation and an ingenious use of depth and scale.

In 2010 Scheltens & Abbenes turned a fresh eye on the Arper collection. Some images act as expressive, dynamic diagrams of collections and products. They describe design systems, modularity, the diversity of options, and express the ethos inherent in their form. Others evoke the creative potential of products through repetition and multiples or subtle shift in color. The result is a series of remarkable images that accentuate the essential forms and graceful lines that distinguish the Arper aesthetic.

Maurice Scheltens & Liesbeth Abbenes

Photo: Maurice Scheltens & Liesbeth Abbenes

A Conversation with Simon Pengelly

In collaboration with Arper, London designer Simon Pengelly interprets and extends Arper philosophy and design concepts to create a table system and a barstool called Nuur and Babar, respectively. Nuur (2009) has four corner legs, four rails and a top and is offered in as many sizes and suited for many different applications and environments.

Babar (2006) is playful and sophisticated, technically complex, and flexible enough to allow for many different sitting positions in different environments. Both are rooted in Pengelly’s design philosophy.

The design philosophy of Simon Pengelly, in brief:

I think the English find it hard to express the depth of their thinking, almost out of embarrassment for such a self indulgent activity—and I’m no exception.

This reticence for personal expression also tends to affect the way thoughts are manifest into the physical, so one could also say it has a positive influence in shaping the articulation of the thought process into products.

Quietness, possibly above all else, is a quality the best products possess. They don’t follow trend but rather have a character born of thoughtful regard to function, materiality, environment, intuitiveness and familiarity, without the need to shout.

There are few things more exciting and interesting to me than being able to influence markets with quiet design, a statement which to some would seem a contradiction in terms, as ‘quiet’ often goes unnoticed. Paradoxically, the quiet products are often those that most people feel comfortable with. Along with this realisation comes the opportunity to influence society by appealing to the masses, rather than the few.

The common perception of mass production is often that which is bereft of personality and an element of craft. I believe in the potential for a mass produced product to communicate an aura of quality implicit in the sensitive balance of form, materiality and function, combined unpretentiously, and to provide accessible products at a price appropriate to the expectation of a mass produced article.

This balance is not easy to achieve, as no one element should overshadow another; the aim should be to create products that ‘touch the ground lightly,’ with personalities that enrich environments without eclipsing them.

Achieving balance, articulated aesthetically via proportion and metaphorically by the honest and appropriate use of materials and production technologies, is also realised by the reduction of the superfluous without stripping an article of its ‘soul.’ There lies the opportunity to create forms that by their reduction possess a lightness akin to those of nature, where the superfluous does not exist and the sensual and soft quietly endure.

Photo credits: Studio Pengelly

A Conversation with Ichiro Iwasaki

In a new collaboration with Arper, Tokyo designer Ichiro Iwasaki interprets and extends Arper philosophy and design concepts to create a family of ottomans called Pix. They create a lively yet balanced landscape based on color, size, placement and the spaces in-between.

Some of Iwasaki’s thoughts on Design:

On creativity: “I believe we should consciously construct a creative condition in which we search without trying to produce solutions. As we witness reactions within ourselves honestly and keep questioning sincerely, I think we will finally grasp something inside that transcends mere knowledge or experience.”

On wisdom: “We seem to think that having lots of information, processing it instantly, and cramming it into our heads is the most important thing. But there’s a problem there. What is necessary is not knowledge but wisdom. It’s not the not the amount of information but the approach to problems that matters.”

On balance: “The times have changed. The era in which things could be made easily and endlessly is over. To generalize: it is because we are in a transitional period of civilization that we need to maintain a balance between intelligence and sensibility.

On ethics: “It is important to value ethics and sensibility over logic. It is important for designers to think and care about these things.”

On thinking: “I’d be happy if designers could sense rather than think. If you are able to sense things, you can be a creator who has the potential to develop yourself.”

On questioning: “I don’t look for answers to questions such as, “What is design?” and “What should I do?” I believe questioning is designing. The most important thing is to face the question sincerely.”

On time: “It’s not right to make a frying pan that may be used for 10, 20 or even 30 years in a week or two; they just can’t be made so easily. I believe that the time spent designing a product and the longevity of a product should be proportional to a certain degree.”

On chaos: “Japanese people tend to use chaos in a negative sense—a state where nothing is organized, an undesirable state of confusion, or a state of incompletion. For a long time I resisted accepting a chaotic state within myself, but one day I realized the meaninglessness of forcing solutions. Perversely, this has made me see things that I couldn’t see before, organized my thoughts and led me closer to solutions.”

Photo: Marco Covi

Design and the senses: a conversation

Claudio Feltrin: We have been working together with your studio, Lievore Altherr Molina, for ten years now—ten very successful years. Our relationship is as much about friendship as it is about work, and it evolved in a natural way over the years as Arper evolved.

Alberto Lievore: Yes, and this quality of being “natural” or “simple”—in the sense of being effortless, understandable and approachable—is also characteristic of the Arper products and the brand.

Claudio: When I think of our brand and our products, I think of an Italian piazza, or square, where people go to meet, to see and be seen. Imagine a beautiful square, vacant. Now imagine the same square, crowded with people and life. An empty square, no matter how well designed and constructed, is a completely different experience than a square buzzing with life—and an object is likewise brought to life by how people relate with it. Sense vivifies objects. An aesthetic alone—beauty alone—isn’t enough: beauty is created by how places and objects are used and experienced.

Alberto: As in human relationships, it’s all about space: being not too close, not too far, but in harmony. An object is not good or bad in itself—it depends on the context. A sophisticated object does not impose itself on the world: it interacts with it.

Claudio: Yes, and it is the sensual aspect of an object that entices you to fall in love with it. In that way our relationship to objects is, I think, less intellectual than atavistic.

Alberto: It’s true that the way we relate with objects is not entirely logical. And neither is the process of creation or buying! We talk about objects—but objects also talk about us. Objects are not innocent; they express an attitude. In designing objects, we recreate feelings and ideas that are important to us, hoping they find an echo in others, a shared sensibility. But of course we can’t just do what we like, detached from external conditions. Our creations must be suited to different places and different audiences. We have to find the right code. As designers, we must translate concept into form, and in the right measure. It’s a complex task.

Alberto: This metamorphosis of concepts into objects is a kind of synesthesia. How do you describe a perfume? A color? How do you describe and reconstitute the experience of a space, of art, of music? In a sense, design becomes a metaphor for life.

Claudio: Design is the culture of everyday things. In the past two years the global financial crisis has changed our perspective, but how do we react to these changes? Before that we experienced a decade in which only the new was considered good. Maybe now design is no longer about the new (as a value in itself), but the true.

Alberto Lievore is a partner in the Barcelona product design firm Lievore Altherr Molina.

Claudio Feltrin is CEO of Arper. He lives in Treviso, Italy.