I am writing these words in Amsterdam. Yesterday, when I arrived here, I visited the Stedelijk Museum of contemporary art and design. The featured exhibition was the work of the Dutch industrial designer Marcel Wanders. This exhibit was timely, for I’m currently reading a book titled Design This Day by Walter Dorwin Teague, one of the founders of industrial design. The juxtaposition between Wanders’ current work and Teague’s formative concept of design struck me as extreme. Wanders is the antithesis of Teague. The exhibition of Wander’s work featured this huge photograph above the entrance:
Wanders work exhibits conscious, unapologetic self-expression—”Look at me!” One of the quotes writ large on the museum’s wall expressed Wanders’ belief that a designer’s work should exhibit his personal signature. I disagree, as does Teague.
When speaking of the rightness of a design, Teague declares that all aspects “should derive their sanction from something more necessary than a designer’s fancy.” Design strives to solve a problem, to serve human needs, not to express the personality of the designer.
Wanders’ notion of design is quite different.
It is our responsibility to be magicians, to be jesters, to be alchemists, to create hope where there is only illusion, to create reality where there are only dreams.
He shuns the formative principle of industrial design that “form follows function.” His aspirations are those of an artist, not a designer. This perspective is reflected in his work.
No, this is not a toy, it is Wanders’ full size, running “holiday car,” its exterior covered with colored stones.
The designer’s approach should be one of interaction, not imposition: interaction between human needs, the tools, techniques, and materials of construction, the environment, and the designer’s skill and imagination. As designers, we use the best materials, tools, and techniques available to solve real problems in the context of our environment as well as possible. We are directed by human needs and the problems that must be solved to fulfill them, not a desire for self-expression. We are restricted objectively by our tools and materials and their impact on the world, not subjectively by the expanse of our egos. The product of our efforts should show no visible sign of ourselves, though it is born of our imagination. Perhaps this is a fundamental difference between art and design: the former an act of self-expression, often beautiful; the latter an act of integration and resolution, no less beautiful, but assessed differently. As designers, we speak in silence, but our voices, though anonymous whispers, are no less heard. Silently, we change the world.