By Damaris Colhoun
Published: December 1, 2008
My mom was a tailor, so I grew up watching her cut patterns, lay them out and turn them into three-dimensional garments. She was a craftsman, although she wouldn’t have called herself that. It’s one thing to love and collect design. What prompted you to produce design objects? Well, I am a cabinetmaker by trade, which is very practical, because it’s about fitting components together. As a result, my design sensibilities are very much associated with craft. How do you choose which designers you work with? We’re not just choosing designers; we’re choosing the work. Also, we are pulling from a pool that’s larger than just the design world, including artists and creative directors. Because our business venture is so risky, it’s crucial that we work with people we can have personal, trusting relationships with. How do you choose your projects? Tell me about the process. It’s a gut reaction. It’s inexplicable. An object has to move me. Then it’s about my perception of that work. We want to create a fresh context for our designs—whether it’s through rogue retail spaces or placement next to another object—so that work can grow and flourish. It’s about creating a fresh vision that can, perhaps, exist outside the holy trinity of art, design and fashion. It sounds as if you’re not one to categorize an object as art or design, one or the other. Is that true? What is your take on the relationship between the two? Design or art—I don’t think of them as robustly as that; they are more porous. People keep talking about “blurring the boundaries” of art and design. I’m more interested in highlighting where these boundaries are, and I’m interested in observing the moments when these worlds touch. As when two bodies touch, there is the potential for something new to be born. Why limited editions? Limited editions are an attempt to give value. I’m interested in the notion of value. Value is not just a set of fiscal judgments; it’s cultural, too. We released a new edition of matchbooks. One had two C’s on it with crossbones underneath. The C’s stand for Citizen:Citizen, but it riffs, too, on Chanel. [The fashion company] issued a warning to us to cease and desist. I wanted to see how people would value something as disposable as a matchbook if you put a big brand on it and called it a limited edition. That sounds a little cynical, no? I’m not being cynical at all, believe me. I’m very happy to have objects in the world just because they are beautiful. That’s an idea that goes back to the craft tradition. What do you see as the future of design? I believe in design. Design has huge potential in our future. But it needs to be wrested from the marketing companies. Design has been hijacked by these marketing companies—they use it as a styling exercise. I think consumerism needs to be rethought too. What does sustainability mean, really? When we walk into a store, we have no clue what we’re buying. What do you think will be the fallout from the economic crisis for this rarefied realm of design? Maybe it will help sort the wheat from the chaff. The Wall Street moguls put a lot of money out there, not unlike in the 18th century, which was the pinnacle of furniture making, thanks to the French court . . . . What was called furniture then is now called design. Thanks also to the big design fairs, there’s been this great trickle-down effect. Now maybe it will have to trickle up! "Philip Wood" originally appeared in the December 2008 issue of Art+Auction. For a complete list of articles from this issue available on ARTINFO, see Art+Auction's December 2008 Table of Contents.
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