Opinion by Jos Kranen
I’m spending the week after Salone del Mobile at Lake Lugano. A chance to reflect.
Kranen/Gille almost didn’t make the trip to Milan. Not because we don’t appreciate the event, but because our minds were elsewhere. Jingdezhen had us in its grip—a working period in China that thoroughly shook up our thinking about materials, craftsmanship, and collaboration. The Salone simply wasn’t on our radar.
And then there was something else. We asked ourselves: are we actually going there out of habit? As a reflex? Heading to Milan every April because that’s just what you do, because everyone goes, because you have to be there? It’s a question that’s more uncomfortable than it seems. Because if you take it seriously, it forces you to think about what you actually expect from it, and whether that expectation is realistic.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve seen on various social media platforms that I wasn’t the only one asking that question. There’s a wave of skepticism surrounding the Salone. And to be honest, I understand why.
I decided to go anyway.
And it turned out that the true power of the Salone isn’t what you see, but who you talk to. Connection. Conversations with fellow professionals you may not have spoken to in a year. Charting new paths, maintaining and strengthening existing ties. Suddenly voicing the ideas you’ve been carrying around for months and seeing how they’re received. Being part of the ‘tribe’ that, as Marcel Wanders once aptly described it, celebrates New Year’s in Milan.
That tribe. “Tribe” has become a loaded word. It quickly smacks of marketing, of an Instagram bio, of something you claim but don’t have to earn. But I’m using it here deliberately, because I don’t know a better word for what’s happening in Milan. It’s a group of people who recognize one another. Not just by the work they create, but by the way they view the world. Through a shared understanding that form is a responsibility, not just a choice. That aesthetics are inseparable from ethics. That you can create a chair, a vase, a space that says something about how you think the world should look.
That group doesn’t have a membership card. You don’t become part of it just by going to Milan. But Milan is one of the places where you find each other, recognize each other, and remember why you do this work.
But when I weigh that against what I saw in terms of work, what is the actual purpose of the Salone, and the Fuorisalone in particular?
3 Days of Design is buzzing through the city as an alternative. But is that really what it is? I’m not a big fan of long lines, strict time slots, and major players setting up immersive installations either. But isn’t it a bit too easy to dismiss it all? Are the concepts getting thinner, or has our consumption behavior simply become more superficial due to a shorter attention span? Cynicism is all too easy to fall into here as well.
And what about Salone Raritas? A beautiful selection of work. But how does that fit with the halls full of boarded-up booths?
Halfway through the forward roll
I think we’re in the midst of a transition. That, as a field, we’re halfway through the forward roll. That the momentum has started, but the landing is still uncertain. That we need to keep moving forward on the path we’ve chosen, but we mustn’t lose our sense of self-criticism and self-deprecation.
And perhaps that is the tribe’s most important function: not only to inspire one another, but also to hold up a mirror to one another. We must be careful not to become merely the “commentator” who dismisses an event of this magnitude with a witty one-liner. That’s too easy. An event like the Salone del Mobile reflects the state of our field, with all its contradictions, its vanity, its sincerity, its commercialism, and its idealism all mixed together. That deserves more than a cynical aside.
We are part of a group that has the ability to prioritize responsibility and aesthetic sensibility over vanity. That is not something to be taken for granted. It is a choice that must be made time and again.
