Linda Li – Design in Context: Milan

In reflection

This month in Milan has taught me so much more than just the history of Italy, its design and architecture. It has provoked in me thoughts about my role as a designer both in my work and in the world, the intersection between art and design, and the importance of environments and spaces. Design is a tug-of-war between solving issues and providing delight. It’s so much more complex than art of engineering, black and white – it’s the in between, and takes on so much more more responsibility.

After visiting the studios and firms of great designers, it became even clearer to me the importance of interjecting a personal voice in my work, whether it be personality (Castiglioni, Portaluppi) or a call to action on an issue I think needs exposure (Fabrica, multiple pavilions at the Biennale, and a motif of Broken Nature at the Triennale). The delight that objects I’ve interacted with on this trip and the subtle details within architecture have given me is something I believe to be essential to the human experience. When one takes a step back and reviews the horrid events happening in our world right now, these small interactions/objects seem pointless/frivolous. And technically, on paper, if one was to measure meaning quantitively, they are. Places like the Prada Fondazione and Cimitero Brion, large volumes of space that serve a sole purpose of speaking to the eyes and heart, could be argued as so because they lack an immediate tangible solution to a pressing problem. But they also offer places of inspiration and solace to those who need it, which a lack of can be felt just strongly and is just as valid. They’re essential to create memorable experiences for a collective memory, which can take us where we want to be, as change can only be gradual. In conclusion to this somewhat stream of consciousness, it’s not necessary to be a superhero; at the same time, just talking about theory and changing systemic thought isn’t enough either. To create objects or spaces with meaning, passion and intent, regardless of its practical score, is enough.

Somewhat related to my previous paragraph is the intersection between art and design I saw so frequently in Italian design. Before this trip I had the idea that these two entities were pretty much mutually exclusive. I’ve realized now that this is what sets apart industrial design in Italy and the U.S., at least from history, my own perception, and the rhetoric I’m familiar with. In Italy, there is a playfulness and sense of history that imbues everything, from the architecture of the streets to the objects it produces. I know every country has its merits, but as a testament to this, I think one can look at the streets and spaces in Italy. With my realization of the importance of our environments and spaces that surround us and how it affects us and our work, we can look at the urban planning of Italian cities. As Robert said in his post, Italian cities are older, and were largely planned for pedestrians with a large emphasis on community and public spaces. The cities in the U.S., in contrast, are planned around cars, which I think subliminally affect the way we interact with others and exchange ideas. Even in comparing the parks, one can see a level of attention and care to the details and design of the park that even the most famous public parks in America lack.

The Nordic pavilion at the Biennale, one of the more artistic ones that comment on the current interactions between our built environments and nature

Both images are part of the U.S. Pavilion, which was a more political and informational one. Exposing and tackling many issues relating to citizenship

An outdoor bench taken at Fabrica. Not only was it an interesting form, but imbedded in the seats were quotes from people, asking them “What makes a park?”

The narrow crevices between buildings in Italy served as walkways to get from place to place. People passing through would acknowledge each other, but because of the enclosed space, there was a level of solidarity. It didn’t feel confrontational, as it often does on the open sidewalks here

A picture of progress sketches taken at the Matt Mullican exhibit in the Pirelli Hangar Bicocca. Really appreciated his candidness in his work, true translations of his unique thoughts, which produced honest work that spoke to many

Possibly one of my favorite pictures from Milan, I’ve never seen a man who represented a city so beautifully. He was walking calmly on the street, in his own world, as if one with the city. Can only hope to be the same in whatever city I live in in the future

week 4

My final full week in Milan was highlighted with our visit to the Cimitero Brion and the Biennale.

After a long day of traveling and walking, the Cimitero Brion felt almost like a quiet retreat into a place of solace. Although Treviso possessed a quality of stillness that other the other cities I’ve visited lacked, the Cimitero Brion (from the corn fields to the long walkway amidst tall trees) was even more of a withdrawal from worldly occupations. Reading Frampton’s essay on Carlo Scarpa made my visit to the cemetery all the more fascinating – from the mysterious detailing hinting at something more to the Asian-inspired details implying the Asian perspective of death, which is a reverent/celebratory one, rather than a guilt/fear-ridden one traditional in most Western cultures. Also, I found that inside the floating chasms present at each turn/corner/joint, Scarpa has placed a smaller world of sorts locked in its own dimension of time.

The Biennale was more than I expected. Trying to visit all the pavilions in Giardini fried my brain by the end of the day – there were so many issues of all types being addressed, most of them ones that I never thought to think about !!

The exhibit in The Central Pavilion that recreated the best pieces of architecture into smaller versions so as to make the effects more immediately noticeable/tangible/effective was an interesting one, and an approach I thought very suitable for the people in our times: consumed with immediate-information culture and unable to fully appreciate the impact of well-designed architectural spaces.

a recreation of Edificio Girasol or “The Sunflower”

This was an essay found in one of the hidden cabinets of the Netherlands Pavilion:

The rhetoric and contents made me think of it as a modern Futurist Manifesto. It was also interesting to see how the Netherlands’ culture and history of strict, unemotional design has related to their decision on making their pavilion about the information age and the future of our relationship with AI.

This was a still from a video projected in the U.S. Pavilion. An incredibly clear and evocative video defining the reality of inequality inflicted by big corporations and historical injustices. Just as Netherlands’ culture of unemotional design seemed related to their AI-themed pavilion, the U.S. Pavilion dealt much with its relations to other countries, the definition of the word “freespace” amidst current issues of immigration, along with environmental and technological boundaries as well.

-Linda

week 3

The highlight of this week for me was definitely visiting Achille Castiglioni’s studio. His approach to design has a wittiness and economy that I want to implement in my own work. I also enjoyed the Armani Silos museum, the way the lighting enhanced the clothing and the way sound interacted with the spaces to form a seamless sensory experience.

Over the weekend, I went to Rome and visited the RedValentino Flagship store, the MAXXI museum designed byZaha Hadid, the Vatican museums, and St. Peter’s Basilica. The MAXXI museum was not the most inviting space, which I find to be a common motif in Zaha Hadid’s work. Because the museum is like a piece of sculpture and has such a distinct personality on its own, it was interesting to see how its exhibitions and art take on the challenge of complementing/ the space shaped by the building’s architecture.

Also the RedValentino Flagship store designed by India Mahdavi was cool to visit, I loved her use of color and confident use of pure forms:

I went on a tour to visit the Vatican museums and St. Peter’s Basilica in order to skip the lines.I kind of hate tours because of their strict nature, and so we basically strolled through the museums with rare and brief moments of admiration in probably under 20 minutes.

week 2

Jesse and I took an airplane to Prague for the weekend. It’s crazy that just under an hour of flying I can enter a country where people speak a different language (from a different language family), with a very different atmosphere because of its Slavic cultural history.

The first thing that struck me was the escalator in the metro station – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hJNvNy4bj0g . The posters on the walls were running parallel with the slope of the escalator, instead of their usual orientations in escalators, parallel to the axis of a standing person. It was disorienting, and in hindsight I think this first memory of Prague is a perfect representation of the city’s character.

As we continued exploring the city, we kept running into peculiar objects:

and another fountain featuring threeelegant and relaxed dinosaurs spitting water with great force, in the middle of a small plaza with surrounding restaurants:

and instead of finding beautiful courtyards when peakinginto a doorway on the street like in Milan, I instead saw people drinking beers at bars (more like dimly litbasements with like one yellow wall lighting fixture on a deep mahogany colored wall).

The variety of different styles of architecture there also felt like an accurate description of how Prague is right now: there is an odd balance/coexistence in Prague of tourists from around the world and Czech natives (who speak a fairly small language and share a very particular culture). Likewise, there was an eclectic mixture of building styles, with new/international jutting up next to historical ones, next to Wes Anderson-like buildings, next to Cubist-inspired ones:

Maybe I’ve just had a previous idea of Prague and it made me look at everything with a lens (that everything is disconcerting and odd). But I really think that’s what Prague is about, from everything I described to the language itself (objectively, the way the letters form together in words clash).

milan week one

After one week in Milan, I feel as though my stomach has shrunk by at least a third – it’s still getting used to the different pattern of eating, often feeling starved the whole day then scarfing down an entire pizza at 9pm : I guess stomachs feel culture shock too. The hours of operation are so different here that for the first time I became sensitive to the quality and characteristics of simple white noise of the city.

The highlight of the week for me was the Fondazione Prada. The whole place was like a total work of art, with the buildings and the spaces in between relating and having a conversation with each other. It was fun to pick out the materials and textures of old/new (rusting walls, corrugated walls, gold painted surfaces, velvet chairs, modern chairs) and natural/manmade (metal, wood, mirror) of materials and textures made for a unified space that manages also to be diverse and distinct in its character.

Karina, Baylea, and I booked last minute train tickets to the coast of Italy to Cinque Terre, but it felt like I had left the country and gone to something like a tropical destination spot. I half expected not to find any of the typical coffee, pizza, and gelato shops that populate the streets of Milan but juice bars and Hawaiian cuisine restaurants instead (I was wrong though). We paddle boarded/canoed and were pretty stressed the whole time (it helped that it felt as though I was in a dream). We rented our boats/boards from a small shop near the dock which was run by a beautiful couple – I feel as though I have encountered more genuine people here in Italy, at least in places of business. It’s either indifference or sincere friendliness with no in between, so when it’s the latter I know its not a front many workers in America feel like they have to put on for customers.