Table talk

Three weeks ago, the annual gathering of commerce-meets-design, aka the Salone Internazionale del Mobile, took over the city of Milan. If you have not been – and given the readership profile of Building, most of you probably haven’t – this is the week in which furniture makers and designers present their creations to the world.

It is the design industry equivalent of Mipim. A few years ago, I gave a talk at Mipim and vowed never to go again. Why? Because I was surrounded by a sea of men in grey suits and the only women there were either in a hostess or a waitress capacity. The disconnect between commerce and real life was too absurd and left me unable to perform well as a speaker and unable to enjoy myself.

Milan is almost the polar opposite. It is just one glamorous party after another. But behind the glamour is serious intent. Design of furniture at its highest level can embody levels of meaning and significance out of all proportion to the scale of the object itself.

Buildings are the ultimate carriers of meaning, but they are complex organisms that are sometimes difficult to decipher. Furniture can be taken in at a single glance; it can be walked around, used and even purchased. Yet some of the most interesting pieces of furniture are being designed by architects – which is why I was there.

Richard Rogers’ cousin, the architect Ernesto Rogers, once said you could interpret the nature of a city from the careful examination of a spoon. While this is perhaps an exaggeration, the significance of design in the contemporary world has a meaning way beyond function. It reflects our economic systems and the technologies we work with. But it is also representative of the emotional and cultural values of our society. It is these multiple definitions that make design so fascinating and so critically important.

So Milan displayed a cornucopia of objects, some manipulative and cynical, others creative and purposeful. Last year was excessive and baroque, redolent of a society enjoying an economic boom without constraint. Those in the Far East continue to rip off designers (and architects) at the speed of high-street fashion chains ripping off couture, and much of the work in the fair was derivative and banal. But this year there was more than a hint of latent seriousness, too, a new thoughtfulness. Perhaps Gordon Brown’s perception of a turn in the tide is spot on – I very much hope so.

Some of the most original work made a virtue out of using recycled materials while one of the most significant shows was by students at the design school in Eindhoven, where they are clearly taught to think before they apply.

Design of furniture can embody levels of meaning and significance out of all proportion to the scale of the object itself

The best show I saw, however, was not really a part of the fair. It was an exhibition of Italian art and design from 1900 to 2000 and most of the design pieces up to 1965 knocked spots off everything else in Milan.

In their time, these designers operated outside of the establishment – the best work is often created from a position of conflict – so it was ironic that they were showcased in the Palazzo Reale, the most establishment of venues. It is gratifying to see such graphic evidence that those who plough their own furrow have the most lasting resonance.

Established & Sons, only in its third year, is a cool young company whose slogan “designed and made in Britain” displays commercial nous but also a commitment to retaining a manufacturing base in this , its backer, provides manufacturing facilities and when one of Established’s designers works in a material or uses a technology that is not offered by Caparo, it seeks out the best company to buy from.

It is not world domination Established is after, but a commitment to using known as well as emerging talents in an environment where quality and authenticity can be nurtured. It is not without coincidence that Established hosted the über-party of the week, which was visited by our EU commissioner for trade, Peter Mandelson.

Design is having its moment. Designers such as Mark Newson are being represented by art dealers and contemporary furniture pieces are commanding huge figures at auction. Perhaps this is due in part to contemporary art being difficult to show in a domestic setting, or to the stratospheric prices of art, or that there isn’t enough really good art.

Design certainly has the alchemical power to turn base materials into valuable objects, it can pander to our fantasies and flatter us by our choice of possessions and create a sense of identity. But for me as an architect, the real value in designing furniture lies in the process of exploration and experimentation without the need to keep the rain out.