Around this time of the year, a design-hungry hog would be salivating about the thought of going to Salone internazionale del mobile where designers, manufacturers and consumers congregate to see what is in store in the very near future. The thought of being in the same room as the jewels of some of our time’s brilliant minds could induce short bursts of euphoria akin to Beatle-mania, if only those hyperventilating were full-grown adults, with refined tastes that are only be appeased by limited edition Eames chairs made from recycled bamboo chopsticks. I must confess I took the liberty in inventing this particular collector’s piece.
Not even an unpronounceable Icelandic volcano could keep the design-obsessed away. Last year, patrons and enthusiasts risked being grounded in Europe just to behold innovative products in design. What heaven does one live in where being stuck in Europe is the worst thing that could happen? Sign me up. Please.
Space and resources are becoming limited. Artists still need to create while needing materials to do so. Cityscapes are now becoming inclusive art galleries with no velvet ropes to keep people away from the pieces.
The photo that I took above at rue De Buci in the 5th arrondissement is a captivating example of how people still need to make their surroundings more personal (to some), or more beautiful (to some). To me, street art is just an extension of design beyond the home. Can you imagine if everyone made the city a bit more comfortable for themselves? There would be a claim to proprietorship with the city. Mutual respect would be the outcome.
Imagine if everyone in Toronto made a contribution to the streets that they take. I would want a Félix Del Marle outdoor furniture at city hall. And then, my Alvator Aalto chair for those sunny days at Trinity Bellwoods, next to someone’s preferred Philippe Starck. Imagine a city of happy people with mutual respect of each other’s sense of aesthetic and comfort.