Marc of Excellence
Marc Newson is caught somewhere between art and design -- and he's quite comfortable there.
By David Hershkovits
Photographed by Maja Flink
Marc Newson doesn't like to be pinned down.
An industrial designer by trade, he is represented by
the blue-chip Gagosian Gallery and works for some
of the biggest brands in business, like Nike, Dom
Perignon, Samsonite and Ford. Eclipsing fellow design
stars like Philippe Starck and Karim Rashid with the
scale of his commissions, his burnished, retro-futuristic imprimatur confers the status of instant desirability
on everything he designs.
Soft-spoken and of modest demeanor, he displays in person a casualness lacking in his highly polished and often very shiny work. His latest endeavor, the Aquariva by Marc Newson, is an update of the iconic '60s-era Italian speedboat. Produced as an edition of 22, it is available exclusively from Gagosian Gallery at the cool price tag of $1.5 million. A recent exhibit, "Transport," included the boat along with other vehicular objects such as a lightweight carbon fiber bicycle made for Biomega; a small idiosyncratic jet plane commissioned by Fondation Cartier pour l'art contemporain; a Nike sneaker designed for Russian cosmonauts; and a cute Ford concept car. Dubbed "biomorphism," Newson's sleek, sensual, smooth forms and his use of high-tech materials have come to epitomize modern design.
DAVID HERSHKOVITS:
What's it like seeing your work
in an establishment like the
Gagosian Gallery?
MARC NEWSON: I'm very comfortable with it. I've had a couple of shows here, but not like this. In fact, the very first place I ever showed my work was in an art gallery.
MN: It was a kind of furniture-sculpture, something in between. This kind of thing that people seem to be doing a lot of right now. That's what I started doing back in 1986. I was making my own furniture.
DH: So you always felt you were part of the art world?
MN: No, not really. I never felt particularly like an artist. I work sometimes more like an artist than a lot of designers, but I also work like a designer. And I just don't feel the need to constrain myself to certain kinds of limitations. But I also have a relationship to the art world. As a designer, I have a relationship to contemporary culture. If you don't, then you're irrelevant.
MN: I'm not a huge consumer of media, but I think it's important to be aware of and to have a general appreciation of and an understanding of what's going on around us. I think too many designers have very little idea, say, of what's going on in the fashion business. I don't know how, as a designer, if you're designing things for the public, for consumers, how you can really do that successfully without having at least a broad interest.
DH: You also travel a lot. Is that how you pick up your sensory information?
MN: Yeah, absolutely. Traveling inevitably plays a huge role in what I do. I've always traveled a lot. I grew up in Australia and to a degree, you're sort of obliged to travel. You really have no choice.
DH: Do you feel that coming as an outsider from Australia was an asset later in life?
MN: I think feeling like a citizen of the world kind of helps. The great thing about design, about my job, is that it's not linked to geography. Everything I do is appropriate anywhere. The same cannot be said of creative areas: the fashion world, for example, or the music business or the film business. All of these areas are geographically specific. Design is completely international. I don't consider there to be any difference designing something for the Russian market or the Chinese market or the Brazilian market or the Australian market or the English market or the Italian market or the U.S. market. Designers like me can't just work in one country. There's not enough work to sustain it.
MN: Yeah, I love working in airplanes. It's a perfect environment. In the world we live in, and especially given what I do, it's very hard to find the time to focus. So an airplane is sort of sensory deprivation to me.
DH: And do you have any thoughts about how you could improve air travel for the common traveler?
MN: Not only thoughts; I'm the creative director of a company called Qantas, which is the Australian national carrier, and I've been working with them since 2000.
DH: How about the rest of the experience: the airports, the security?
MN: Security is sort of a tough one.
DH: If we had a Marc Newson-designed security apparatus to walk through, I think people would be more inclined to enjoy the experience.
MN: These are all problems that need to be solved, but you need to be given a mandate for people. That's a problem for people like me. Even if a company like Ford produces a concept car, it doesn't mean they're going to put it in production. At the end of the day, it's not up to the designer.
DH: Is that frustrating sometimes? That you can create something that doesn't get out?
MN: Absolutely
DH: Do you like art? Do you collect art? Are you passionate about it?
MN: I wouldn't say I'm passionate, but I have a really close relationship to the art world in a sense. I'm interested in art. I actually went to art school. I studied art, I didn't go to design school.
DH: Who are your favorite artists from your days when you were studying?
MN: I'm a big fan of Arte Povera and people like Piero Manzoni and Alighiero Boetti.
DH: Your work is very different from that. Arte Povera materials are very real.
MN: Absolutely. I'm not quite sure why I liked their work. It was a particular period in Italy that I'm fond of and what happened in the design world then after the Second World War.
DH: That work is very low-tech and created with natural materials. Do you think your work is high-tech?
MN: It can be. It depends on what the project is. I do so many different things. By definition, anything you do in the aviation industry is kind of high-tech. That's where technology was born and that's one of the reasons I like working in that industry. But I do a lot of work in the watch industry in Switzerland, and they're kind of the opposite of technological. That technology hasn't really changed in hundreds of years. And I love working with craftspeople. I'm going to Japan in a couple of weeks to work with a guy who's a national living treasure. You know, they have these people in Japan that are designated by the government as national living treasures.
MN: This particular guy works with a certain type of woodwork. A really specific type of woodwork. In Japan, there are hundreds of these people. And there'll be someone that does a particular type of tie-dye, or a flower-arranger, or someone that makes blades for swords.
DH: Has Japan been a big influence on your work?
MN: I think if I could name one country or culture that I was influenced mostly by, it would probably be Japan. It was never a conscious thing. Not so much from a stylistic point of view, but from a point of view of how they approach design. Everything is so coherent in Japan. The architecture is related to flower-arranging, and flower-arranging is related to food, and food is related to religion, and religion is related to pottery. And it's not the same in Western society. And I think designers need that and respond to that. And I've worked there a lot.
DH: What is your home like in London?
MN: It's kind of modern, but sort of not. And of course my wife lives there as well, so she has something to say. I do have antiques, and I collect quirky old things. I'm not just obsessed with everything new. I love the idea of quality. I've got a cabinet with all of my trinkets in it, and they're generally all kinds of strange, odd little things that only mean anything to me. Oddly enough, I'm not a gadget person. In fact, I'm kind of hopeless with all that stuff. I'm not patient enough to figure out how to use those things.
DH: What's your attitude about web design? Is that something you're interested in?
MN: I think to a degree one has to be interested in it. But I'm interested in it as a service. I'm not particularly interested in designing websites, and I just don't know enough about it. I think I could be classed as being relatively computer illiterate, even though we work with the most sophisticated computer systems to design. I understand geometry and I'm very hands-on. But for me, a computer is a tool. It's a means to an end. It might as well be a hammer or a saw. I believe very strongly that one shouldn't use a computer to design things. It's not what they're for. The best stuff always takes place in your head.
Soft-spoken and of modest demeanor, he displays in person a casualness lacking in his highly polished and often very shiny work. His latest endeavor, the Aquariva by Marc Newson, is an update of the iconic '60s-era Italian speedboat. Produced as an edition of 22, it is available exclusively from Gagosian Gallery at the cool price tag of $1.5 million. A recent exhibit, "Transport," included the boat along with other vehicular objects such as a lightweight carbon fiber bicycle made for Biomega; a small idiosyncratic jet plane commissioned by Fondation Cartier pour l'art contemporain; a Nike sneaker designed for Russian cosmonauts; and a cute Ford concept car. Dubbed "biomorphism," Newson's sleek, sensual, smooth forms and his use of high-tech materials have come to epitomize modern design.
Born in Sydney, Australia, Newson spent his childhood traveling throughout Europe and Asia before returning to study jewelry design and sculpture at Sydney
College of the Arts. He started experimenting with furniture design as a student and, after graduating in 1984,
exhibited the Lockheed Lounge (his famous swooping,
aluminum divan), which recently sold for more than $2
million. Before setting up his first studio in Paris in the
early '90s, Newson lived in Tokyo for four years. Since
1997, he has resided in London, where he established
a studio to work on his more ambitious projects. Today
he is the undisputed star of design art, a market that has
emerged in the last 10 years, branding everything from
clothes to vibrators to watches and beyond.
MARC NEWSON: I'm very comfortable with it. I've had a couple of shows here, but not like this. In fact, the very first place I ever showed my work was in an art gallery.
DH: What was that like?
MN: It was a kind of furniture-sculpture, something in between. This kind of thing that people seem to be doing a lot of right now. That's what I started doing back in 1986. I was making my own furniture.
DH: So you always felt you were part of the art world?
MN: No, not really. I never felt particularly like an artist. I work sometimes more like an artist than a lot of designers, but I also work like a designer. And I just don't feel the need to constrain myself to certain kinds of limitations. But I also have a relationship to the art world. As a designer, I have a relationship to contemporary culture. If you don't, then you're irrelevant.
DH: How do you manifest that
in your daily life? Are you a
culture vulture?
MN: I'm not a huge consumer of media, but I think it's important to be aware of and to have a general appreciation of and an understanding of what's going on around us. I think too many designers have very little idea, say, of what's going on in the fashion business. I don't know how, as a designer, if you're designing things for the public, for consumers, how you can really do that successfully without having at least a broad interest.
DH: You also travel a lot. Is that how you pick up your sensory information?
MN: Yeah, absolutely. Traveling inevitably plays a huge role in what I do. I've always traveled a lot. I grew up in Australia and to a degree, you're sort of obliged to travel. You really have no choice.
DH: Do you feel that coming as an outsider from Australia was an asset later in life?
MN: I think feeling like a citizen of the world kind of helps. The great thing about design, about my job, is that it's not linked to geography. Everything I do is appropriate anywhere. The same cannot be said of creative areas: the fashion world, for example, or the music business or the film business. All of these areas are geographically specific. Design is completely international. I don't consider there to be any difference designing something for the Russian market or the Chinese market or the Brazilian market or the Australian market or the English market or the Italian market or the U.S. market. Designers like me can't just work in one country. There's not enough work to sustain it.
DH: You spend a lot of time in planes.
I understand that you like to do a lot of
your work while flying.
MN: Yeah, I love working in airplanes. It's a perfect environment. In the world we live in, and especially given what I do, it's very hard to find the time to focus. So an airplane is sort of sensory deprivation to me.
DH: And do you have any thoughts about how you could improve air travel for the common traveler?
MN: Not only thoughts; I'm the creative director of a company called Qantas, which is the Australian national carrier, and I've been working with them since 2000.
DH: How about the rest of the experience: the airports, the security?
MN: Security is sort of a tough one.
DH: If we had a Marc Newson-designed security apparatus to walk through, I think people would be more inclined to enjoy the experience.
MN: These are all problems that need to be solved, but you need to be given a mandate for people. That's a problem for people like me. Even if a company like Ford produces a concept car, it doesn't mean they're going to put it in production. At the end of the day, it's not up to the designer.
DH: Is that frustrating sometimes? That you can create something that doesn't get out?
MN: Absolutely
Clockwise from top left: Marc Newson for G-Star T-shirt, 2009; Kelvin40 Concept Jet, 2003; 021C Concept Car for Ford Motors, 1999; Zvezdochka shoes for Nike; Felt Chair, 1989; Aquariva by Marc Newson, 2010; Atmos 561 Clock, 2008.
DH: Do you like art? Do you collect art? Are you passionate about it?
MN: I wouldn't say I'm passionate, but I have a really close relationship to the art world in a sense. I'm interested in art. I actually went to art school. I studied art, I didn't go to design school.
DH: Who are your favorite artists from your days when you were studying?
MN: I'm a big fan of Arte Povera and people like Piero Manzoni and Alighiero Boetti.
DH: Your work is very different from that. Arte Povera materials are very real.
MN: Absolutely. I'm not quite sure why I liked their work. It was a particular period in Italy that I'm fond of and what happened in the design world then after the Second World War.
DH: That work is very low-tech and created with natural materials. Do you think your work is high-tech?
MN: It can be. It depends on what the project is. I do so many different things. By definition, anything you do in the aviation industry is kind of high-tech. That's where technology was born and that's one of the reasons I like working in that industry. But I do a lot of work in the watch industry in Switzerland, and they're kind of the opposite of technological. That technology hasn't really changed in hundreds of years. And I love working with craftspeople. I'm going to Japan in a couple of weeks to work with a guy who's a national living treasure. You know, they have these people in Japan that are designated by the government as national living treasures.
DH: What does he do?
MN: This particular guy works with a certain type of woodwork. A really specific type of woodwork. In Japan, there are hundreds of these people. And there'll be someone that does a particular type of tie-dye, or a flower-arranger, or someone that makes blades for swords.
DH: Has Japan been a big influence on your work?
MN: I think if I could name one country or culture that I was influenced mostly by, it would probably be Japan. It was never a conscious thing. Not so much from a stylistic point of view, but from a point of view of how they approach design. Everything is so coherent in Japan. The architecture is related to flower-arranging, and flower-arranging is related to food, and food is related to religion, and religion is related to pottery. And it's not the same in Western society. And I think designers need that and respond to that. And I've worked there a lot.
DH: What is your home like in London?
MN: It's kind of modern, but sort of not. And of course my wife lives there as well, so she has something to say. I do have antiques, and I collect quirky old things. I'm not just obsessed with everything new. I love the idea of quality. I've got a cabinet with all of my trinkets in it, and they're generally all kinds of strange, odd little things that only mean anything to me. Oddly enough, I'm not a gadget person. In fact, I'm kind of hopeless with all that stuff. I'm not patient enough to figure out how to use those things.
DH: What's your attitude about web design? Is that something you're interested in?
MN: I think to a degree one has to be interested in it. But I'm interested in it as a service. I'm not particularly interested in designing websites, and I just don't know enough about it. I think I could be classed as being relatively computer illiterate, even though we work with the most sophisticated computer systems to design. I understand geometry and I'm very hands-on. But for me, a computer is a tool. It's a means to an end. It might as well be a hammer or a saw. I believe very strongly that one shouldn't use a computer to design things. It's not what they're for. The best stuff always takes place in your head.
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