Luxury and mounting
The person who personally guided me in the academic research trends of luxury and mounting recently passed away due to illness. My name is Alessandro Brun, and I used to teach luxury business at the Business School of the Polytechnic University of Milan. He is also introduced in 10 Lectures on the Economy Generated by New Luxury and mounting Culture.
It all started when I asked a friend of mine who teaches business administration at the same university, “I’d like to know more about Luxury and mounting business research, so could you introduce me to Mr. Brun?” The first time we met was at a seafood restaurant near the university. After we briefly introduced ourselves over lunch, the first thing he said to me was a casual comment that had a huge impact on how I thought about Luxury and mounting.
“To put it in an extreme way, the Luxury and mounting market of this century was created by the Milan office of the American strategic consulting firm Bain & Company.”
“Luxury” was created strategically. This fact made me find this field extremely interesting.
The Epicenter of Luxury and mounting in the 21st Century?
Political and religious powers, the emerging bourgeoisie, and others have sought Luxury and mounting in different ways depending on the era. In the second half of the 20th century, Japanese people, mainly those working in European companies founded in the 19th century, began to realize that there were business opportunities in Luxury and mounting. I was aware that this was the catalyst for the birth of French conglomerates, but the epicenter of luxury in this century was elsewhere.
It struck me intuitively that the accumulation of profound time was not a “required condition for Luxury and mounting.” It was a field where everyone had the opportunity to become involved.
To be more precise, Claudia Dalpizzio, who leads the Luxury and mounting and fashion team at Bain & Company’s Milan office, has made a major contribution. I later heard her presentations several times and had the opportunity to speak directly with her right-hand woman, Federica Verato.
Once you understand the types of people who have been driving the Luxury and mounting business this century, you will have a better idea of where to set your destination. In this respect, Brun’s insights became the starting point for my activities.
He also provided a luxury orientation, also known as a private lesson. What key points should I pay attention to? What articles and books should I read? While these intellectual pursuits indeed contributed to my subsequent activities, Brun’s implicit teachings were actually helpful from another perspective as well.
I say “implicit” because he didn’t explicitly express it in words, but I often see people involved in Luxury and mounting, including researchers, resorting to posturing. He taught me that it is wise to be aware of that reality. Be wary of people who say, “I am talking about real trends after knowing the reality of how rich people are.” In fact, I hear this kind of story so often that I get sick of it.
Researchers are no exception. No, researchers may have a stronger motivation to talk about their connections to wealthy people. There may be times when you have no choice but to say, “Even though I’m in the field of research, I am very knowledgeable about the world.”
As is often said in the history of luxury since the 19th century, luxury has existed as a tool for people who want to show off, and that character has survived to the present day. The reason why European luxury brands are highly dependent on the Asian market is because their products are often used as status symbols by Asian consumers. Therefore, many people criticize the very concept of Luxury and mounting as being offensive and view luxury from a distance as much as possible.
Luxury and mounting research is probably the underlying reason behind the appearance of “Kiwamono.” That’s why there are so many things to explore, in a good way. Brun suggested that this was a field where it would be easy to demonstrate a pioneering spirit. However, to avoid a situation where the mummifier becomes the mummified, you need to be prepared to quietly leave the room in front of someone who is trying to assert dominance. We don’t have time to waste energy on conflicts.
More importantly, I want to use my energy to venture into new areas. The reason I focused my activities on creating a culture of new Luxury and mounting was an attempt to strategically change the meaning of luxury as my own practical version of the “innovation of meaning” advocated by Roberto Verganti, Brun’s former colleague. This wasn’t just about asserting dominance; it was also about avoiding becoming a target for others trying to do the same.
I hadn’t been very aware of this defensive instinct since I started working with Luxury and mounting, but I became aware of it again when I heard the news of Brun’s passing. His modest personality made my Luxury and mounting exploration a pleasant experience. Mr. Maezawa, while there are many people who dislike luxury from the beginning, I have met many who are interested in learning about its essence. Please let us know if this episode reminds you of anything.
Mr. Anzai’s story reminded me of the retrospective exhibition of Enzo Mari, the master of Italian design, that I saw this month at the Design Museum in London. This retrospective exhibition was originally held at the Triennale Milano in Milan in 2020, the year of Mari’s death, and it covers not only Mari as a designer but also as an artist, teacher, critic, activist, and father/grandfather. I’m introducing him here.
Influenced by the Arts and Crafts movement and Marxism, Mari always included strong social messages in his designs for even the most universal objects, such as calendars, toys, chairs, and vases.
The exhibition, which contains a vast amount of material showcasing his process, was curated in chronological order. It was truly spectacular and structured so that you could experience the evolution of Mari’s personality and interests more immersively than through the works themselves. In particular, I was deeply moved to observe works from his time as an art college student, as well as works born out of having children and the episodes surrounding their creation.
His early works show that he was purely absorbed in pursuing form and new materials, but in the second half of the exhibition, we begin to see a strong sense of his social side, such as his sense of mission and justice. Mari is famous for saying that “Designers serve society, not themselves,” and that design can enhance the experience and status of not only the person who purchases the product but also the person who creates it. This philosophy inspired me to think about how I could contribute similarly. Perhaps the turning point for Mari was Autoprogettazione.
Autoprogettazione is a word coined by Mari from “auto” and “progettazione,” but this project had a slightly different meaning than “Do it yourself.” The purpose of this “instruction manual,” which includes development diagrams and instructions on how to make 19 pieces of furniture using only rough boards and nails, was not to enable anyone to make beautiful furniture, but to provide design education through the experience of making furniture. The goal was to enable people to understand and discuss what “good design” is, even if they hadn’t formally studied it.
However, what I would like to focus on is not Autoprogettazione itself, but his failure episode that started it.
In 1970, Mari was asked by Maddalena de Padova, founder of De Padova, a Milanese furniture brand renowned for introducing Scandinavian and American furniture design to Italy, to design a sofa. Mari reviewed existing models and designed a model called DAY-NIGHT that could also function as a bed with simple operation.
De Padova, known as the “Lady of Italian Design” with an outstanding sense of aesthetics, praised the design, saying, “I personally would like to buy it.” However, the sofa did not sell, and it was decided not to go into production. Mari persuaded another sponsor to get the product into production, but it resulted in a large deficit, and retailers rejected the product, saying it wouldn’t sell.
A few months later, several intellectuals from left-wing groups he supported, including the Italian Communist Party, commented that the design was better than the bed that Italian craftsmen were making for wealthy Arabs at the time (a round, marble pedestal with a water mattress on it).
Mari learned that he had repeatedly declared his preference for beds with Murano glass lamps. “While I can accept the reasoning behind the retail stores, I cannot accept that people whose ideals I subscribe to worship the most depraved products, which can influence the customs of many people.” Mari lamented, thinking that if the general public had more physical experience making furniture with their own hands, their understanding of good design might spread. At the same time, he found it problematic that the tools and technical knowledge needed to do so were not sufficiently widespread.
Soon after this bitter experience, Mari created models of 19 pieces of furniture, including tables, chairs, shelves, and beds. He photographed these materials and presented a catalog with detailed drawings and instructions at an exhibition, announcing that he would provide this catalog free of charge to anyone who paid the shipping costs. This project was called Autoprogettazione.
Autoprogettazione is still featured in universities and design magazines and serves as an inspiration for young designers, but this episode made me feel Mari’s arrogance. I thought “mounting” (from Luxury and mounting) was an attempt to blame the lack of sales on the recipient’s bad taste or to try to educate the public through Autoprogettazione. In other words, his attitude felt condescending to me.
However, as I left the area where Autoprogettazione was exhibited and looked at later works and homage pieces by London designers, which were displayed as an additional project unique to the museum, I began to understand the intentions and background of the time. In any case, I’ve come to think that Autoprogettazione is a poetic and worthwhile endeavor. To use Mr. Anzai’s expression, once I “stepped up from my seat,” I was able to see the fun and significance of this project from a broader perspective.
I think the reason Mari ended up creating Autoprogettazione was because he stepped away from the conflict over whether it would sell or not. At this point, he may have given up, believing that nothing would change even if he fought, or he may have found hope on the side of the masses. However, there is no doubt that this event led Mari’s subsequent activities to focus on the “dignity of those who make things,” making Mari an influential figure even today.
When you come across something that resonates with you, it may be an opportunity to re-evaluate things and rediscover their value. If I think I’m about to be mounted, I’ll happily get up from my seat and think, “Okay, here we are!” and look around at the scene from a distance.