Milan Design Week comes to a close this weekend but it’s not exactly a neat conclusion. The presence of industries with design adjacencies (namely car brands, hospitality groups and fashion houses) was in retreat for the first time since the coronavirus pandemic, with budgets tightening amid economic and geopolitical volatility. No overarching aesthetic emerged to rival last year’s dominance of stainless steel and its seductive palette of deep reds, nor the cream bouclé and soft shapes of the year before that.
It seems that the zeitgeist is too elusive, too fractured to be neatly summed up. Nonetheless, Milan Design Week did its usual sweeping through the Lombard capital, prying open the courtyard gates of palazzos for events and installations. At cocktail parties in church cloisters, DJs became high priests for the night, lording over congregations of characters plucked out of a film by Paolo Sorrentino – feather dresses and shiny suits included.
In the streets of Porta Venezia, negronis were consumed until the early hours of the morning under banners blazing “Design is act” – one to ponder on the walk home. In the light of day, exhibitions offering a more intellectual narrative proved to be the most popular. Visitors to the brutalist Torre Velasca queued for hours to see showcases on Polish modernism and the legacy of Jorge Zalszupin, the Poland-born designer associated with Brazilian modernism.
It was a soft-power coup from the Visteria Foundation – the Polish cultural institute dedicated to the global promotion of the country’s design and craft scene. The Triennale Milano, meanwhile, explored the legacy of design across three exhibitions: one chronicling the history of Danish furniture company Fredericia; another about British designers Edward Barber and Jay Osgerby; and finally an inside look at the Eames House – now being developed on by Spanish manufacturer Kettal. Elsewhere, intellectualisation went a step further by removing design completely from the equation and focusing on ideas.
This was most apparent with the fashion houses partaking in Milan Design Week – and perhaps a hint at the deeper existentialism pervading the industry as it recalibrates after a period of change. Jil Sander’s creative director, Simone Bellotti, launched the Reference Library, an exhibition of 60 titles chosen by the likes of Swedish singer Lykke Li and American film director Sofia Coppola. Miu Miu returned with its book club, which explored the politics of desire through the writings of French novelist Annie Ernaux and Ghanaian author Ama Ata Aidoo.
Prada’s annual symposium, Prada Frames, looked at the role of image-making as a feature of our contemporary culture. This all coincides with the rise of collectable design, be it of one-off marvels, rare antiques or objects that blur the line between design and art. Even the week’s anchor event, Salone del Mobile, a bastion of industrial and contract design, is getting in on the action with Salone Raritas, a new section of the fair reserved for collectable work.
Ultimately, there is some irony that the design world – an industry preoccupied with form and aesthetics – is seeking to transcend itself. But as brands compete for buyers and try to make sense of the times, it’s perhaps unsurprising that their first instinct is to search for a deeper meaning – in whichever shape or form it might appear. Grace Charlton is Monocle’s associate editor of fashion and design. For more opinion, analysis and insight, subscribe to Monocle today.
