Swingin' It
In search of design and inspiration at Milan's Fuori Salone, I felt like a kid.
Last week, I was one of 300,000+ visitors that peeked at Milan’s Salone del Mobile and Fuori Salone in its Design Week. Record-breaking numbers of visitors skyrocketed throughout the city this year, descending from over 181 countries, fifteen-percent higher than last year.
Shoulder to shoulder, the crowds and lines traveled in herds and on foot, smooshed in to a panino that might have once been called a Covid sandwich. Mostly maskless, everyone delighted in breathing down each others’ necks while arching them to gawk and gaze at Italian and international designers’ enlightening attempts at form and function in design.
To visit Milan during this annual event is to return to the drawing board, to embrace creativity, and to dream like a kid. It’s the showcase showdown of industrial designers, and a trampoline for budding artists, engineers, interior designers, and think-out-of-the-boxers.
This year, I left wishing I could move into an empty house and zap it with the Milan buzz that reverberated off the streets. Whether it was an iGuzzini spotlight, a Piet Hein Eek dining room table, or an Hermes sling-back chair, I salivated over most of the interiors, and wondered how I could rob a bank to make it all mine.
The magic of Milan lies in its courtyards, many of which are normally closed off to the public or not as easily accessible to the average visitor passing through Italy’s capital of fashion. During this special design week, all are encouraged to snoop (assuming there’s an encouraging Salone sign hanging outside) — in houses, showrooms or shops. It’s a spy’s dream. It’s when you don’t have to be ashamed of being a Nosy Nora or an Italian “ficcanaso.” The name of the game is to poke your nose in every open door and behind every closed curtain. Look, linger, and learn.
It’s split into two sections: the Salone (endless furniture showrooms made by architects for architects) which is held at a spacious fairground, and the Fuori Salone (consisting of those who may not have made the official design jury cuts for the Salone itself but still intrigue and show promise) which is mostly held outside in open, urban spaces.
The beauty of walking through the city during this six-day event is that it is eye-opening at every corner, and almost every object dares you to consider it through a different lens: a collection of leftover Smurf figurines becomes a vase; recycled, plastic black bags are molded into a marble-esque panther; plastic bags recuperated from the Grand Canal are transformed into a fully-functioning Venetian gondola.
There is no need to reserve a ticket or plan ahead to enjoy the outdoor and indoor installations and exhibitions as the entrance throughout the Fuori Salone is free.
In the two days I visited Milan, I only saw a small fraction of the 2,000 brands displayed and created by the 550 designers. A dilettante of design, I am in no place to suggest which was the most creative, the most sustainable, the most innovative, or simply the coolest.
But, I will say that my absolute favorite installation was of Stefano Boeri Interiors’ The Amazing Playground at the Universita’ Statale di Milano. The project is a stationary carousel of swings, created in collaboration with Amazon Italia, Alberitalia and Boeri, to promote urban reforestation. If I ran a school, I’d commission it for the outdoor playground. If I had a backyard, I’d set it up outdoors, illuminate its crown of LED lights, turn on the barbecue, and invite guests over for Swings and Wings.
I had never seen the beautiful building that houses the installation, the city’s state university, originally constructed in 1456, and almost entirely destroyed in WWII’s bombings. In 1951, renovations began to restore the space by three of Milan’s most renowned architects: Ambrogio Annoni, Liliana Grassi and Piero Portaluppi. They masterminded the rectangular campus and included 10 interior courtyards, of which one is the Cortile della Farmacia that housed the Boeri swings.
The first thing I loved about the installation of the swings was its color. Orange has been the new black for several years now. Hundreds of chairs, benches, couches, and tables on exhibition throughout Milan were the orange of an Aperol Spritz or an Hermes scarf box. The carrot-colored swings were held up by slender poles that resembled children’s pick-up sticks or grandmother’s knitting needles.
I also loved the dodecagon shape of the installation within the square of the courtyard. And how just as many adults as kids lined up to have a turn on a swing. The instant reaction of every passenger upon sitting down and gripping the swing’s rope cords, whether it was a toddler or a grandparent, was a smile. You could see it in their eyes: the moment they took their sturdy shoes off the ground, they let go, released and swung free.
In an age where our thoughts are often manipulated by algorithms and images, it felt liberating to let gravity take over, swing back and forth in the metronome of life without a cellphone in hand, and give into the hypnotic motion of rocking. Arching my back, I looked up at the sky above, listened to the recording of chirping birds from speakers throughout the porticos, and daydreamed as I once had while swinging under a weeping willow tree from my childhood.
Everyone swung in the same outward direction. After a few minutes, I switched sides in order to swing into the dodecagon rather than away from it, and I contemplated what it felt to be that odd pendulum out. I liked it. By the time I got carried away in the flow of the swing, and started pumping my legs the way I used to as kid in order to gain height and speed, a Swing Guard chastised me for going too high. I felt giddy getting in trouble.
“We’re all still kids at heart, aren’t we?” I challenged the amused guard, who seemed reluctant to make me slow down as she followed orders to do her job.
I contemplated jumping off mid-flight as I used to as a kid, and relishing in that moment where you fly high in the sky and soar to the ground once gravity wins. But, then I thought of my fifteen sessions of physical therapy to heal my recently-fractured ankle and torn ligaments, and I walked off the swing like a kid at the end of an epic birthday party. Tired, happy, and satisfied.
These swings brought me back to that wonderful, childhood feeling of daydreaming, where the object of the game was to let motion take over, feel the wind rush against your face, and dare to reach new limits — to be ungrounded, uprooted, and free. I was reminded of the importance of simply swinging with it.
I also wanted to share here a piece I wrote for The Financial Times several years ago about three of Milan’s most famous industrial design foundations that revolutionized the aesthetics of post-war Italy: Fondazione Castiglione, Fondazione Vico Magistretti and Fondazione Franco Albini. After 61 years of renting the space in which their father founded the Castiglione foundation in his name, his children, who manage the working space, are being asked to move out by their landlord. They are trying to enlist the community of design and the Sovraintendenza Archivistica, to help them stay put. Until they close shop, swing by to pay homage to one of the geniuses of Italian industrial design.
Also featured here, if it’s easier to read (click on the link): Master of the Modern -- FT
Just Loved reading about Milan's 'Fuori Salone ' & great photos too
My gosh, I love your writing!!!! I think you just inspired me to turn my neglected backyard into a sculpture garden. …. we’ll see!