Universally themed exhibitions always err on the side of risk. When dealing with topics that affect such a wide audience, the element of danger lies in making assumptions about a global subject, especially one as personal and ambiguous as love. It came as a welcome surprise to discover that Love Design, a celebration of intimate or heartfelt products curated by Exquise Design, part defied the romanticised normals and part treaded old ground.
An inviting balance of tender emotion, physical gratification and endearing light humour is on display in their small but beautifully succinct space. It is encouraging to see new technologies developed into commercial items but as with any exhibition of love- and sex-related objects, re-appropriated existing forms are common and rarely expose a new meaning.
Of note is Andrea Knecht’s Georgia, a compact silicon sex toy designed for women to be used as an erotic extension to the finger. Self-pleasure, a somewhat taboo subject area, finds itself coupled with the organic, voluptuous forms of Georgia O’Keeffe’s work, bringing a soft femininity to an otherwise brutal and intrusive object. The only disappointment in it’s design is the lack of O’Keeffe’s understanding of colour – the monochromatic models, though boasting a sophisticated silhouette, would benefit from the addition of colour marbling through the forms to excite the eyes as much as the heart.
This sensitivity to the subject matter continues in Arik Levy’s “Powered By Jimmy Jane”. It is exciting to see the latter made famous for their superbly engineered vibrator motors and have its most coveted item delicately humanised by Levy’s wooden structure. The metallic 24ct gold object is complimented by the surrounding vessel, converting it into a component used for comfort rather than orgasm and addressing the estrangement of emotional warmth and physical release that sex toys often contribute to.
By stark contrast, Morgane Pluchon and Quentin Simonin’s Fruit Condom is vibrant, visceral and comic. Quite literally a condom for phallic fruits, it appears tacky ad cheap, displaying lonely housewife fantasy in a way that may only raise a eyebrow of the desensitised consumers of the 21st century. Fusing functionality with fun in a range of fluoro, easy-clean silicones, it may not be the most refined work on display but it is refreshing to see an attempt at practical, affordable and humorous design in a market that is flooded with material excess, financial inaccessibility and a sombre sobriety.
More tender moments can be found in Sakurako Shimizu’s contribution, Waveform. A set of laser-cut jewellery integrating the soundwaves of “Cet Amour”, a poem discussing love by Jacques Prévert. The cold use of technology to discuss the exhibition’s theme startles at first but, as with many of the best creative efforts, the devil (or rather, cherub) is in the details and the collection comes alive with the French actress Jeanne Moreau’s poetry reading as aural accompaniment.
The deceitful nature of the emotion is represented by Björn Franke, who brings a kit for the execution of Traces of an Imaginary Affair to the table. Included is a beautifully produced set of instruments for incurring bondage marks, bruising and scratches – the tell-tale signs of deceit – and the set poses questions concerning mistrust within relationships. A painful yet existent issue, it is softened by the care put into creating such a striking object yet clinical appearance of the polished weapons allows for a piece that lies between the fictions and realities that fuel love.
Love is represented here in its many subsequent forms – jealousy, seduction, security, pleasure, and intimacy – with both mundane and innovative results. The work celebrates the highs and confronts the lows of this age-old source of inspiration, paradoxically challenging and confirming of my brief experience of the ‘L’ word. Love Design may be dry and somewhat immature in places but makes for an overall pleasing if brief exhibition.
Love Design
Galleria Nina Lumer
Via Carlo Botta, 8
22nd – 27th April, 10am – 8pm
Text: Clare Acheson