Interview with Louise Schouwenberg

Social design… isn’t design always, inevitably and irrevocably social? Even in its most autonomous expressions, there is still a relation with a user, with a context. Since no single product finds its significance or raison d’être in isolation, there is always a network of social relations with the design itself and that inseparable duo of design and user (even if the latter’s role is confined to that of spectator). Just as the user has various guises (depending on the domain in which design functions), so is the network of social relations diverse as well.

The time is past when Heidegger’s distinction between works of art and utilities had a generally shared significance. Heidegger thought that utilities disappear in their dependable functionality if they adequately incorporate their purposes and are well produced. Both works of art and utilities are produced by human hands… But while the work of art shows its essence in its striking presence, a shoe or a chair would only be a striking object if it did not do what it was supposed to do.

Heidegger failed to take designers into account. More than seventy years after his essay, utilities are no longer prepared to disappear in their dependable functionality, but shout loudly for attention as desirable objects intended to brush up the image of today’s consumer or to bear witness to the consumer’s noble intentions. In its urge to manifest itself, design has appropriated virtually all the podiums that used to be the exclusive preserve of art, architecture, urbanism, the performing arts and theatre. In Heidegger’s time things said something about human existence at that moment; likewise the things with which we are surrounded every day say something about our Dasein.

Is the social component of design today connected with that shouting for attention, the need for an alert public? Or can we only look for social design in ‘good intentions’ such as attention for sustainable solutions, natural materials, local and traditional techniques and alternative production strategies? It is not difficult to remain cynical in the face of much of the shrill marketing of artistic products. For which aesthetic chord is touched and what significance is referred to by the golden glitter of the interiors of hotels in Dubai, Milan or New York, by designs that are copied in expensive materials, or by extremely simple things that are gigantically blown up? (It is not strange, by the way: every artist knows the effect of blowing up proportions.) Nor is it difficult to criticise the hypocrisy behind many ‘well intentioned’ projects. For how long will we continue to accept claims such as that a designer wants to create a more intimate bond with the user with yet another new consumer product, idealises rural life because it is so natural, or explicitly communicates the origin of the materials used in an attempt to convince the consumer of more quality and honesty? Design follows the predictions of success in the market, supplied in personalised form by a growing army of trend predictors (who have become noticeably wary in their predictions since the crisis).

It is simple to adopt a cynical attitude towards design. And it is certainly easy to be cynical with regard to the social pretensions of designers. But as long as I enjoy using a corkscrew that works perfectly, seeing a beautiful sculptural table, an innovative use of materials in a lightweight chair, unusual forms of cooperation with scientists, and cleverly designed solutions for complex social problems, I find it more meaningful to show in full glory how design contributes to the cultural domain.