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More thoughts on Droog Lab's 'Luxury of the North', from Antoniuk and Jaworska
On Thursday, December 8, 2011, Edmonton’s design community was treated to a co-presentation between Droog Lab, the University of Alberta and M.A.D.E. in Edmonton.
The purpose of Droog’s visit was to discuss the Luxury of the North project in the form of a lecture and panel debate:
“The aim of the Droog Lab is to see how ways of living in different parts of the world can inspire new directions for the future of design,” says Renny Ramakers, co-founder and director of Droog and initiator of the project. “The Canadian North is known to be harsh. We wanted to see how its extreme qualities might influence new city concepts and urban luxuries elsewhere.”
Luxury of the North is part of the Droog Lab series, Here, there, everywhere, which investigates how people in daily situations worldwide can inspire new directions for the future of design.According to Tim Antoniuk speaking about his experience working with Droog Labs, “Droog is one of the most innovative design studios in the world. They really helped change the way a lot of people, a lot of schools, a lot of companies see design. They helped define what Dutch design is. They have a pretty long history.”Antoniuk recalls “This interesting discussion really early on as we were forming the project. I was in Amsterdam speaking with all these leaders of Dutch design in one room, and I asked ‘What do you think about Canadian design?’ And there was no reply. “I eventually pressed them, and the general consensus was ‘We think Canada’s really open, light, and sustainable …’ and there were all these adjectives that weren’t about products, they were about environment, about a state of a nation in a way. “Which I thought was really cool. If you think ‘what’s Italian design?’ you think Ferrari, you think Armani, Dutch design you think Droog, German design it’s Porsche, Braun, French it’s couture and fashion, but Canadian design? … And that really struck me. “So I thought,” Antoniuk continues, “let’s go to Canada for something utterly Canadian, which is way up north, and let’s find out how these people live, and how they live sustainably.According to Antoniuk, “A lot of the project was going up there with no design agenda, but going up there to explore new concepts of living. There’s all these neat lessons that we learned, that we’re abstracting into the contemporary world.Agata Jaworska of Droog Lab explains that they “pick project themes that are a hypothesis of what we think we might be able to learn from that particular place, with value for the rest of the world. “We just thought that Canada’s North has unique things to teach the rest of the world about the theme of survival, Jaworska continues. “Conditions are very harsh, and we saw ways of building housing, ways of dealing with transport, ways of eating, surviving on food, that were quire unique.Of many unusual experiences from his time in the North, Antoniuk shares one particular insight relating to urban design and how it may (or may not) support culture: “ In these remote northern communities, there’s really high rates of alcohol abuse, teen pregnancy, and suicide. And a lot of people have said well, it’s because there’s gross problems with overcrowding in housing. “Effectively, white man came in and gave super small little Western-style houses on stilts, and then up to four generations of family members will live in one house. So you’ll get fourteen people in one super-small little house. And when you’re got 24 hours of darkness and you’re not going out much, problems can be created. So some social psychologists and others have said ‘oh, well the problem is because of overcrowding. We’ve got to give them bigger houses’. Which, may be somewhat true. “But in speaking with an elder, she said ‘The southers gave us this housing, and it has nothing to do with our culture. There’s no place for storytelling, no place for the kids, no place for our cultural rituals.’ And that really struck me, because when you think here’s a culture that’s got tens of thousands of years of planning for small spaces: they lived in igloos for thousands of years. We gave them southern style housing that helped to destroy who they were or are. And the opposite is that, well, they can really teach us a lot. Jaworsa also brought back stories: “We had kids who told us their favorite food was ‘sea eyeballs’! It was surprising to see people taking raw seal meet in Ziploc bags, and taking it out with you for the day.Jaworska was also surprised by “The fact that when there was only daylight and no night time, kids were out at 2 in the morning fishing, with no parental supervison and they were completely fine. They could navigate their landscape and fish and play and there’s ice and lots of dangerous things that could happen, and somehow there’s this kind of social network of people, even kids looking after other kids, so that they manage without the parents. And I think in the south and elsewhere in Canada we’re much more careful with our children.”“The project is equally relevant in the southern part of Canada as it is to the rest of the world,” Jaworska feels. “It’s not Canada in general that the project comes from, but the North specifically. And so then I think people in Toronto may be more familiar with Inuit than people in Amsterdam or elsewhere generally speaking, but people in Toronto have more in common with people in Amsterdam than they do with Inuit in the North. From the projects, Jaworska asserts, “The big message is how looking at different communities, such as the north, can inspire future design. It’s important for readers to understand that we don’t go to the North to design for the North and to work with the Inuit or local people to instigate change there. That makes our approach unique: we’re going there to take something that has value for the rest of the world.And was there an overall message Antoniuk would like people to take away from the project, and the symposium? “It’s really necessary for people to start to think in a new way, to find new contexts of innovation. The world is changing so fast, and so much has been lost. It’s not about regaining our past, it’s about regaining a little of our humanity in a world that’s changing so incredibly quickly.
The purpose of Droog’s visit was to discuss the Luxury of the North project in the form of a lecture and panel debate:
- Here, there, everywhere by Agata Jaworska (Droog);
- Arctic Imports by Pirjo Haikola (The Why Factory); and
- Productivity of Nature by Christien Meindertsma;
- followed by panel discussion with Tim Antoniuk.
“The aim of the Droog Lab is to see how ways of living in different parts of the world can inspire new directions for the future of design,” says Renny Ramakers, co-founder and director of Droog and initiator of the project. “The Canadian North is known to be harsh. We wanted to see how its extreme qualities might influence new city concepts and urban luxuries elsewhere.”
Luxury of the North is part of the Droog Lab series, Here, there, everywhere, which investigates how people in daily situations worldwide can inspire new directions for the future of design.According to Tim Antoniuk speaking about his experience working with Droog Labs, “Droog is one of the most innovative design studios in the world. They really helped change the way a lot of people, a lot of schools, a lot of companies see design. They helped define what Dutch design is. They have a pretty long history.”Antoniuk recalls “This interesting discussion really early on as we were forming the project. I was in Amsterdam speaking with all these leaders of Dutch design in one room, and I asked ‘What do you think about Canadian design?’ And there was no reply. “I eventually pressed them, and the general consensus was ‘We think Canada’s really open, light, and sustainable …’ and there were all these adjectives that weren’t about products, they were about environment, about a state of a nation in a way. “Which I thought was really cool. If you think ‘what’s Italian design?’ you think Ferrari, you think Armani, Dutch design you think Droog, German design it’s Porsche, Braun, French it’s couture and fashion, but Canadian design? … And that really struck me. “So I thought,” Antoniuk continues, “let’s go to Canada for something utterly Canadian, which is way up north, and let’s find out how these people live, and how they live sustainably.According to Antoniuk, “A lot of the project was going up there with no design agenda, but going up there to explore new concepts of living. There’s all these neat lessons that we learned, that we’re abstracting into the contemporary world.Agata Jaworska of Droog Lab explains that they “pick project themes that are a hypothesis of what we think we might be able to learn from that particular place, with value for the rest of the world. “We just thought that Canada’s North has unique things to teach the rest of the world about the theme of survival, Jaworska continues. “Conditions are very harsh, and we saw ways of building housing, ways of dealing with transport, ways of eating, surviving on food, that were quire unique.Of many unusual experiences from his time in the North, Antoniuk shares one particular insight relating to urban design and how it may (or may not) support culture: “ In these remote northern communities, there’s really high rates of alcohol abuse, teen pregnancy, and suicide. And a lot of people have said well, it’s because there’s gross problems with overcrowding in housing. “Effectively, white man came in and gave super small little Western-style houses on stilts, and then up to four generations of family members will live in one house. So you’ll get fourteen people in one super-small little house. And when you’re got 24 hours of darkness and you’re not going out much, problems can be created. So some social psychologists and others have said ‘oh, well the problem is because of overcrowding. We’ve got to give them bigger houses’. Which, may be somewhat true. “But in speaking with an elder, she said ‘The southers gave us this housing, and it has nothing to do with our culture. There’s no place for storytelling, no place for the kids, no place for our cultural rituals.’ And that really struck me, because when you think here’s a culture that’s got tens of thousands of years of planning for small spaces: they lived in igloos for thousands of years. We gave them southern style housing that helped to destroy who they were or are. And the opposite is that, well, they can really teach us a lot. Jaworsa also brought back stories: “We had kids who told us their favorite food was ‘sea eyeballs’! It was surprising to see people taking raw seal meet in Ziploc bags, and taking it out with you for the day.Jaworska was also surprised by “The fact that when there was only daylight and no night time, kids were out at 2 in the morning fishing, with no parental supervison and they were completely fine. They could navigate their landscape and fish and play and there’s ice and lots of dangerous things that could happen, and somehow there’s this kind of social network of people, even kids looking after other kids, so that they manage without the parents. And I think in the south and elsewhere in Canada we’re much more careful with our children.”“The project is equally relevant in the southern part of Canada as it is to the rest of the world,” Jaworska feels. “It’s not Canada in general that the project comes from, but the North specifically. And so then I think people in Toronto may be more familiar with Inuit than people in Amsterdam or elsewhere generally speaking, but people in Toronto have more in common with people in Amsterdam than they do with Inuit in the North. From the projects, Jaworska asserts, “The big message is how looking at different communities, such as the north, can inspire future design. It’s important for readers to understand that we don’t go to the North to design for the North and to work with the Inuit or local people to instigate change there. That makes our approach unique: we’re going there to take something that has value for the rest of the world.And was there an overall message Antoniuk would like people to take away from the project, and the symposium? “It’s really necessary for people to start to think in a new way, to find new contexts of innovation. The world is changing so fast, and so much has been lost. It’s not about regaining our past, it’s about regaining a little of our humanity in a world that’s changing so incredibly quickly.
How Museums Have Become Playgrounds - The 2011 Culture Awards -- New York Magazine
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(Photo: Jesse Untracht Oakner) |
J’accuse museums of bullshit! Of bogusly turning themselves into smash-hit consumer circuses, box-office sensations of voyeurism and hipster showbiz. This year, the institution-critiquing art known as Relational Aesthetics—essentially audience-participation art, often work that moves, lights up, or involves living nude beings—entered its decadent phase. Many museums are drawing audiences with art that is ostensibly more entertaining than stuff that just sits and invites contemplation. Interactivity, gizmos, eating, hanging out, things that make noise—all are now the norm, often edging out much else.
I place the beginning of the end at “theanyspacewhatever,” the 2008 Guggenheim group show of “subversive” critiques that remains the most indulgent act of museum masturbation I’ve ever seen—and I lived through the Thomas Krens years. This year, though, the movement went completely moribund. Take as an example Marina Abramovic’s The Survival MoCA Dinner, staged last month for more than 750 people at the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art. This piece of mega-kitsch included naked women, supine with skeletons atop them, on dinner tables while attendees ate. (One guest reportedly wisecracked “full Brazilian at six o’clock.”) Shirtless male pallbearers carried shrouded bodies about. Although it was only a fund-raiser, it recalled Abramovic’s silly 2010 MoMA spectacle that made sitting and staring at the artist into the narcissistic endurance art du jour. (A group of art-world scolds, including Yvonne Rainer, Douglas Crimp, Mary Kelly, Rachel Harrison, and John Yau, all signed a peevish letter denouncing Abramovic’s L.A. event before it was staged. That too came off obnoxious—less thoughtful critique than thought-policing. These exhibitions bring out the worst instincts in everyone.)
Right now in New York, there’s the New Museum’s Carsten Höller fun-fair of rides, slides, and flotation tank, most of it restagings of past amusements. The show packs the house; viewers feel pleased with themselves for “getting it”; nothing provides much in terms of form, social commentary, or the willful transformation of materials. It’s arty junk food. Last summer saw Allora & Calzadilla’s unctuous Venice Biennale spectacle, which included U.S. Olympic gymnasts performing atop wooden models of airline seats and a model of Freedom (the statue atop the U.S. Capitol’s dome) resting on a tanning bed. It would be impossible to imagine anyone getting anything from these works, except briefly distracted. Back at MoMA, Carlito Carvalhosa’s fossilized-on-arrival atrium installation included sound, hanging microphones, and a meaningless labyrinth of material hung from the ceiling. Viewers walked through this thing as numb as cows in a Temple Grandin chute, led into psychic oblivion. (MoMA is also now showing the defining work of Relational Aesthetics, a re-creation of Rirkrit Tiravanija’s 1992 feeding-the-audience piece, though I love this work and don’t begrudge its return. Unlike the others, it still ignites the mind, the space, and seemingly all who partake and interact there.)
Some observers respond that blockbuster shows are all broadly appealing: “Monet and Cézanne are as easy to like as Allora & Calzadilla.” I’d respond that Monet and Cézanne are not at all easy to like, and that they complicate your life, in the best way. Allora & Calzadilla, et al., go down smooth and just make your life simpler, in the worst way. It’s a vacuous vicious circle, ostensible populism masquerading as collectivity. All of it says that too many museums now equate happy crowds with quality and experimentation. These shows serve the museums, curators, and trustees. They no longer serve art. In fact, this sensationalism implies that many museums have now fallen behind art.
