Interview with Paolo Ulian

On the occasion of the anthological exhibition of Paolo Ulian's work, Pata interviewed him, trying to retrace and understand his work and his universe.

Let's start with a really easy question: this exhibition, now that you're 48 years old, marks a point in your career beyond simply taking stock of things. Apart from the obvious (true) compliments, is there anything that you would like to have done or that you're reserving for future years?
For several years, maybe since the beginning, I've felt the need to designate more space to one of my artisan activities. I gain satisfaction from managing the creation of objects, from their conception to their physical realisation, in my own time and in my own way. I've never done much work in industrial production, but in those cases I've always endured thousands of difficulties, sometimes absolutely unexplainable - but they tend crop up before you reach a concrete result. However, thinking with my hands is something that has always been part of me; it fuels my enthusiasm and makes me feel good. I really hope I can manage it soon. 

Your approach often starts with an afterthought or a certain sagacity regarding behaviour. Passing beyond observation you suggest alternatives and variants. You try to supplement daily behaviour which we've become accustomed to. 
You've emphasised the part of the project that interests me most. Over the years I've realised different ones which are ironic interpretations of deeds that we all do (more or less consciously) on a daily basis. But I've also done others which carry important messages, putting forward new and more responsible social attitudes. For me, the heart of the project has always been the meaning, the message that it brings with it.

An example? 
When I talk about this topic I always like to quote the terracotta bowl that I created a couple of years ago; it's called A Second Life. I like it because the project anticipates the shape of the coconuts so that they can be used again for other purposes. The shape of this bowl is extremely ordinary, but if it gets broken accidentally maybe it can teach us something: perhaps to observe the things that surround us more carefully, to not throw things away so readily, to not take anything for granted. This is the design logic that I like following at the moment.

Considering above all his notoriously not so easy personality, his specific importance and his method, how was your relationship with Enzo Mari?
I got to know Mari during our ISIA1 days in the late eighties. He was taking the fourth year design course. I've always been very attracted to the route he's taken with his design work - so radical and free, so real. However, at the same time I've also always had a certain reverential fear regarding his person. This fear was chiselled away a bit during the time that I spent at his studio once I'd qualified. I experienced unforgettable and often difficult moments there. This did, however, reveal his humanity and softer side, which don't shine through superficially.

Did he come to see the exhibition? 
He really was the first person that I'd like to have invited to my exhibition, but then I didn't do it, maybe because I was excessively shy. In spite of this, on the opening day at about eight in the evening, we were about to close and he arrived. I was apprehensive about his harsh opinions, and about getting an earful, but then he spent two hours analysing every single project and giving me extremely valuable suggestions with an affection that I'd describe as fatherly. This was the best present that Mari could give me.

Whilst the shape has a purpose, the colour, at least in some cases, is the result of an arbitrary choice coming from the gut rather than the head. Your works, with some exceptions, are the colour of the material that is used. How do you relate to colour?
As far as possible I prefer the material to do the talking; I don't like to force the naturalness of things. In people I appreciate simplicity and spontaneity, so false appearances annoy me. I take the same approach to materials. Put it this way: I love sincerity of expression in any aspect of life.

Some of your works - a few - are, however, coloured...
If it happens that I'm forced to choose colours, I always have to find a reason to justify the choice. Colour also carries meaning and can play a fundamental role in communicating certain types of emotions and messages. 

The majority of so-called quality designs (irreproachable, precise, correct...) try to give meaning to shape, to make it originate from other things, to justify it. But isn't shape also the ‘face' of an object or its capacity of expression? Are we not passing through a phase that's perhaps a bit too anorexic or insipid?
I'm not sure. I know for certain that every historical period can be translated into a common expressive language. What we see around the Salon, as opposed to in galleries or in young students' design projects, represents a certain feeling in the air. It's a sort of reaction to the orgy of hyper-production that we've experienced, or even suffered, in the last few years. This shared sensation has probably carried meaningful choices in a more spartanly and simplistic direction. The excess of technological perfectionism that we are surrounded by has produced a demand for non-perfectionism. Think about the work of Peter Marigold, Maarten Baas or Martin Gamper, who knew how to interpret these sensations well, actually translating them into a sort of thermometer for our current social condition.

What do you think about the now prevailing artisan approach to design? After the great season initiated by Italians with Memphis and Alchimia it now seems like this method is more common abroad than it is with us. Can we define it as something to boast about or as an oddity?
In my opinion it's about a social necessity. I don't think this wave of returning to values of manual ability should be compared with the artistic experiences of the eighties which were born out of different conditions and objectives. Today we have arrived at so greater a detachment between man's real needs and his extremely affected lifestyle that looking for ways of escape and repossessing what every man feels instinctively comes spontaneously. The balance is upset, everything is parcelled out. We spend eight hours sitting at a computer to then go to the gym and run on a cold conveyer belt, when we need only organise our work differently in order to (at least partly) rebalance these aberrations. 

"Stop recycling, start repairing" is the slogan of the Repair Manifesto, presented during the Salone dal portale Platform21.nl. It's about creating products that last longer and that are easier to repair if they get broken. What do you think about this new attitude? Is it assumable in a lazy society that's become used to ridding itself of things so soon after buying them? 
It's not only assumable; it's become a necessity - an urgent necessity. We've finally reached a high level of collective awareness regarding the cracks and the contradictions that characterise the model of the western market. We deluded ourselves for years: thinking that things were right this way; thinking that for a clearer conscience all we had to do was to recycle the enormous quantities of goods that we were forced to throw away each day. But this isn't the point. The packaging of goods shouldn't have to be recycled; it's much easier to avoid producing it and organise the market accordingly. We've got to design objects bearing in mind how they could be repaired if broken. It doesn't make sense to dump a fridge that has seen only three years of usage, just because it's cheaper to buy a new one than face repairing it (this happened to me this morning and I'm still appalled).

Especially in the current economic situation...
Yes, that's right. I think the credit crunch has helped increase awareness of the situation. Although I don't think the time has come for the average citizen (who is incapable of accepting radical reforms) to restore the imbalances to acceptable levels through sensitivity and collective intelligence.

Have you got any concluding advice for Pata?
You're so good at what you do that I should be asking you for advice!