In our previous collection we mused about the strings that tie us, as designers, to others. How does what we create relate to who we love? Or fear, or admire or despise? How do our Silent Associes resonate in our process of creation?
This year however, we took a look a the process of creation itself and the intricate web of emotions that accompanies it. What do we feel for the inanimate objects that we dream up? Do not try to perfect your personality, perfect instead every one of your creations, says Gottfried Benn. Blow the world as if it were glass, a bubble from the top of a pipe: the stroke that severs everything, that stroke is yours alone and it counts.
And he is right, of course. (He is a poet after all, he must know.) The process of creation is about separation. Getting rid of the unnecessary, the superfluous, getting it right and then letting it go. It’s about getting as close as we can and then severing Gottfried’s bubble and sending our brave little objects – a desk, a floor lamp, a side table maybe – out into the world to fend for themselves. At that moment, our relationship ends – but so many new ones can begin. A truly great love story cannot end with consummation, it must end with separation or even death, says Elia Kazan. It must end on the highest note of emotion.
And he is right, of course. (He’s a director, he must know.) In the end, creation is just like a love story. So let’s call it that. Let’s call it Affection Sérieuse.