2020 in review: A year in design and rethinking the future

No One is an Island' by Random International, Superblue, Studio Wayne McGregor and BMW i and dancers Jacob O’Connell and Rebecca Bassett- Graham (company Wayne McGregor). Photo Ravi Deepres © BMW AG
No One is an Island‘ by Random International, Superblue, Studio Wayne McGregor © BMW AG

We will enter a decade premiered with a very dark storm. Yet much of what we are witnessing since the pandemic was already in progress: a planet in deep ecological crisis, systemic race and gender inequalities, unsustainable economic disparities, rise of populism and the post-truth era, the anxieties of the information age and machine science…

Covid has fast-tracked the speed of change. It has intensified – no exploded debates around these overwhelming existential issues, much of which have found a visceral voice in Black Lives Matter and Extinction Rebellion. In the words of the former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair, this is our version of World War III. And like so any monumental episode, it has offered a chance to deconstruct our world as we know it – or knew it – and to reimagine new possibilities.

With our normal lives on hold and almost no international travel, formally time-short senior designers and executives have been available and excited to talk, keen to discuss their ideas – and more openly. I like to think it has something to do with the informality of home video calls. With their intimate backdrop of books and artwork, and the occasional cute wondering toddler and (not-so-cuddly) pet, the set-up has certainly contributed to a more honest exchange of ideas.

So, what has been my top takes from reporting in the time of the coronavirus? A large chunk of my writing since March has been devoted to navigating design in the future. What will our transport landscape look and feel like? How will we live more efficiently in our sprawling cities? What does progressive luxury look like? How can we use design and innovation to cut waste? I’ve been speaking with car designer, industrial designers, architects and town planners, with technology experts and gaming innovators, with fashion designers, filmmakers, artists and even chefs. It has been exhaustive, and I’ve had to learn about new industries, new technologies for a hugely exciting and challenging journey of discovery.

An image of the Pix Moving self-driving fleet
Pix Moving self-driving fleet © Pix Moving

One of the more ambitious projects came via a Chinese tech start-up called Pix Moving. The Pix Self-Moving Spaces are autonomous mobile living units based on self-driving cars, while the overarching Pix City proposes flexible, technology-evolving cities. Company founder Chase Cao wants to deconstruct the relationship between city inhabitants and the urban space they occupy – what he calls the core logic of the city. Airspeeder is another inventive idea by the Australian tech firm Alauda. This is an electric flying race car ready to take to the skies and compete with other speeders in a bid to help advance sustainable future transport.

Less grand but equally impressive are practical ideas for more ecological urban transport. The handful of electric cars presented by the traditional automakers have been adequate but largely underwhelming, leaving independent designers and makers to come up with the more radical ideas. London-based industrial design studio Seymourpowell’s Quarter Car is an interior-led design study of an electric autonomous ride-sharing vehicle for urban commutes, with physical partitions to allow for adaptable communal and private journeys.

Elsewhere, I was contacted by Arturo Tedeschi, an Italian architect and computational designer who uses algorithmic modelling, virtual reality and video games to make complex and exciting forms and shapes. While Swiss start-up Komma virtually showed me its Urban Mobility Vehicle. The work of a former Pininfarina designer, this inventive electric commuter sits somewhere between a motorbike and a conventional car, offering the agility of a two-wheeler, but with the comfort and safety of the latter.

Rolls-Royce Phantom V by Lunaz
The electric 1861 Rolls-Royce Phantom by Lunaz © Lunaz

On a more conceptual level, Royal College of Art Intelligent Mobility students offered some really exciting ideas to drive our future. I particularly like a proposal to create a megacity taxi for 2040 as a way of considering the various cultural and social aspects of our future smart cities. A couple offer some sophisticated critical design thinking too with ideas that may have seemed impossible dreams before the pandemic made all things impossible possible.

On the other side of the spectrum, in the midst of the darkest hours of pandemic lockdown, I got into a debate as to the future of luxury. It all started with a casual video call with Alex Innes, the designer in charge of Rolls-Royce Coachbuild, who had rightfully been questioning the validity of the traditional values of luxury. The pandemic had offered him clarity on the issues, and the term post-opulence was coined to represent the coming era where timeless objects will gain more value and customers will form deeper relations with luxury brands.

That week I happen to contact Dickie Bannenberg, one half of the celebrated London yacht design studio Bannenberg & Rowell. He was equally pensive, noting that the post-pandemic world should be one of post-hedonism – a concept that also chimes with our time. How much of this will be viable in the ultra-luxury, purely hedonistic superyacht world remains to be seen though.

Arksen 85 © The Boundary
Arksen 85 adventure yacht represent new luxury © The Boundary

More realistic perhaps are the restored classic Rolls-Royces, Jaguars and Land Rovers by the British restomod firm Lunaz. The 1961 Rolls-Royce Phantom V and Silver Cloud motors – completely re-imagined for modern driving with less wasteful battery-electric drive and sustainable luxury materials – seem to be the finest manifestation of a post-pandemic luxury landscape.

As is Arksen. Capturing the zeitgeist, the yacht business is on a mission to inject purpose into luxury travel and to facilitate philanthropic adventures. The portfolio is truly tempting, but what I like most about both these brands is that rather than make ecological luxury a lesser option, they have injected huge desire into their products and propositions. To me, this is the key.

Meanwhile, art and culture increasingly became a lifeline during the pandemic blues. With shuttered galleries and museums, doors closed to theatres and music halls, and with art fairs cancelled, the need to endorse the arts became ever-more apparent. Early in the pandemic, I had an uplifting conversation with a friend and colleague Thomas Girst who, in his role as head of BMW cultural engagement, is deeply involved with supporting artists and cultural establishments.

We talked of the benefits for corporate brands getting involved with creative sponsorships, but also of the momentum steered by the BLM movement urging us to rethink cultural memory – re-write the text to include those largely left out of the canon of art and design history. The pandemic has also proved something that I’ve long passionately believed: of the necessity of arts and ideas to be more than entertainment – to be the voice, the reviewer and the projector of change.

Covid may have accelerated life into the future, yet with limited access to places and people, it also brought clarity and the chance to rethink the future through design and innovation
Emeric Lhuisset ‘L’autre rive’ at 2019 Paris Photo concludes with a series of fading blue renderings through cyanotype © Emeric Lhuisset

I signed off my 2020 writing assignments with a conversation with Chris Bangle – a creative I admire very much for his on-going questioning of mainstream car design, and for his true critical design thinking. Over an impassioned and animated video call, he made a compelling case for an urgent need to radically rethink and deconstruct design for the electric age.

Chris compared today to the 1960s – a similar period of fear, upheaval, complexity and contradictions – noting that cars have the potential to reflect the paradoxical nature of our society. He spoke of cars imagined to the theory of ‘form follows emotion’. I mused over the idea that cars could have the possibility of then sharing this emotion with society – maybe take it further and be part of nation-building, have civic duties. Later, discussing this with my father, he suggested replacing the word ’emotion’ with ‘human relations’ or ‘society’, so the argument extends to becoming one at the centre of progressive political thought.

Chris Bangle and the creative team behind the 2018 REDS electric concept
Chris Bangle and the creative team behind REDS electric concept © CBA

Looking back, what I learnt most in the last nine months is that we have a collective responsibility to engage with the world and to make change happen. Change is possible, but it requires active involvement. And the pandemic has been polarising – separating us into those who see this as a call to action, and those who have retreated further inside their tribes. I’m transported to my childhood growing up in the Middle East, witnessing how in times of conflict and revolution friendships and families naturally drift apart over ideology and action. It is often in these critical times when you can re-evaluate who you wish to continue in your life story.

On a positive note, the pandemic unleashed a new wave of activists – well, Covid combined with Trump’s toxic reign. And it is encouraging to see some of my dear friends and colleagues stand up to racial and social injustice, defend the planet and environment, become involved in the making of a better world. There’s been a fantastic sense of camaraderie during the pandemic which I sincerely hope won’t vanish with the end of the virus.

Covid has brought with it much loss and sorrow. It has shown social disparities with the economically disadvantaged and immigrant groups largely bearing much of the heavy burden. The virus has exposed our fragility as humans. It has also revealed our spirit of resilience. Stuck at home with limited access to people and places, with social media’s frightening alternative truths in constant view, it is easy to get consumed in life’s dramas. Bad news shouts louder than good news. But look around and for every act of evil there will be a dozen selfless deeds of kindness.

On the day before the third London lockdown, I popped into a gallery which happened to have remained open. On entering I spotted the beautifully illustrated ‘Planting the Oudolf Gardens’ on the bookshelf and mentioned to the manager how I admire Piet Oudolf’s expressive and spirited landscape designs. She promptly offered me the book with a smile, saying that it clearly belongs to me. There is plenty to be hopeful for. To quote the author Isabel Allende, ‘the virus has invited us to design a new future’.

To 2021.
In memory of Annie, who lived a full life and left us peacefully during the pandemic.

Time for change after the coronavirus pandemic

I’ve taken to keeping a daily diary in isolation – though I suspect I’m not alone here. Most of us locked up our diaries to collect dust in the attic when we left our teens. Its job was complete, navigating those unpredictable and impressionable years. This pandemic needs its own navigation. For many, cocooned in the safety net of the western world, trauma of such scale, the human loss, the fear of the unknown, are new. Some have witnessed wars and displacement (I saw some of this) but for many, the memory of war is from grandparents’ stories, from the movies, from The Diary of Anne Frank. The more contemporary events are events – they happen somewhere else, captured in a photograph, an article, noted and then gone.

This coronavirus pandemic has the gravitas of a world war. And there is something unifying in its global-ness. We’re all in it together, feeling one another’s pain, understanding each other’s fears. And equally terrified and helpless. Yet, the reality of the loss of lives and livelihood, the surreal nature of the lockdown – these need to undergo some sort of daily navigation. And so, the daily diary has re-emerged, with slightly less self-absorbed content and with a finer quality Japanese fountain-pen, ink, and paper.

It contains intimate details of the cherry blossoms that have doubled since yesterday in the local park where I take my daily walks. The hazy morning light brightening in the unusual April heat. London’s clear skies. The silence in the air. The orchestra of bird songs – some of which are new melodies in a city cleansed of air and noise pollution. The hungry bees populating the garden. Spiders weaving their architectural webs. The house cheese plant cuttings coming to life in their containers. The life of spring.

I observe the teenager across the lawn in the neighbouring house slouched in his backyard, headphones on, absorbed in his world, possibly thinking of his school friends, maybe even a girl, or boy, whom he cannot see for months. Months that are years in the teenage world. I watch the man in the park dry fly fishing. It looks surprisingly elegant. I mourn the elderly neighbour no longer with us, not for the virus, but another illness that took him in silence in the midst of this chaos. I hear another neighbour signing, alone but with her church choir via Zoom or Skype for Easter Sunday. I try not to listen to the ambulance and police sirens moving across our road, slowly fading, perhaps another tragedy in offing. Then silence and stories in my own mind.

Mostly, my diary pages are filled with ideas of how these monumental episodes offer the chance of renewal. Why not use this golden gift of silence to rethink our cities? With the High Street closed, I’m reminded of how little we need to live well. There are the essentials, of course, but do we need all this ‘stuff’ designed for desire? Observing families in the parks, should shopping be the default for entertainment? Equally, the pandemic is highlighting the precious value of time with family and friends, the social factor in being human. It is humbling watching communities come together to help one another with such dignity, and formal work rivals offering assistance. Perhaps our cities could focus less on empty consumption and more on places for people, for communities to grow, for this unified spirit to continue.

Equally, observing London with minimum cars and transport, do we need to be constantly moving? Walking through Hyde Park and onto Buckingham Palace, there is so much beauty in this city without clutter. Why should cars drive through parks? Why not pedestrianised central London and offer electric trams and the kind of clean driverless pods we have been discussing for years? The products are there. The technology is there. The infrastructure is largely there. It all just needs a push.

We now see that many businesses can function perfectly remotely. Why not rethink the tired work arrangement, the largely unchanged office format? Judging by the conversations I’m having with most colleagues, especially those in public relations and communications who are now working from their home offices and shed, I see such creative thinking from individuals who usually follow the corporate line. I suspect there will be more productivity, more interesting work emerging from this new way of working.

The world could benefit from working together progressively. This pandemic is proof of that. Watching the devastation caused to less fortunate countries, and watching ours largely surviving through state intervention, should it not encourage a more active state? Surely, we can now see the value in investing ever-more in our national health system – instead of systematically starving it. Equally, seeing how more deprived communities are suffering largely due to underlying health issues, isn’t this the time to discuss inequality, education and more? Even capitalism knows it cannot survive in its current grossly unequal state.

Within this adversity, we see families reuniting in parks, teenagers cycling with their parents, no iPhone in sight. Couples jog together absorbed in conversation. Maybe they are revaluating their life, their fast world. Perhaps they are rethinking their careers, ditching the corporate life for something more real. I suspect much of this thinking will be gone by the end of the pandemic (assuming there is an end). Yet, dear diary I hope this episode changes our collective perspectives, that we each see our individual responsibility to help make this world a better one not for a handful, but for all. That is not a tall order.

Bentley explores the future of sustainable luxury travel with EXP 100 GT

This is the EXP 100 GT by Bentley Motors which explores luxury in the context of clean autonomous travel in an imaginary world of 2035.

As traditional carmakers study what their place will be in the next chapter of the automobile, this EXP 100 GT by Bentley Motors sets out to explore luxury in the context of clean autonomous travel in an imaginary world of 2035.

The form may follow a classic motor car design theme, yet it is conceptually and materially where the EPX 100 really makes a distinctive statement. 

This is the EXP 100 GT by Bentley Motors which explores luxury in the context of clean autonomous travel in an imaginary world of 2035.

Here’s a little teaser as to what to expect from the marque

This is the EXP 100 GT by Bentley Motors which explores luxury in the context of clean autonomous travel in an imaginary world of 2035.
This is the EXP 100 GT by Bentley Motors which explores luxury in the context of clean autonomous travel in an imaginary world of 2035.

Introducing the softly radical future Bentley

Last month we were given an insight into the future of Bentley Motors design. Although not radical in the obvious sense, it is a very interesting and subtle approach to the evolution of luxury.

The marque is viewing new materials in terms of sustainability and usability, and is looking at how the interior, especially the interface, will evolve – in this case radically – to speak the language of digital natives with bendy, wrap-around screens projecting a virtual butler of sorts.

We saw some pretty innovative work. Production-ready 0.7mm stone veneer – slate and quartz – for interior elements, vegan luxury alternatives such as man-made leather that will have its own identity in smell and texture, as well as durable silk and cashmere. We were shown beautifully carved wood inspired by old guns for the dials and switches, and quilted wood for door panels that utilise the skills of the Crewe artisans.

The company is exploring 3D printing to help create intricate radiator graphics. Inspired by the cut crystal whisky glass, it is looking into animating the inside of the exterior lights so that, much like a kaleidoscope, they can welcome you and reveal the Bentley logo.

These are all highly intriguing ideas that are completely feasible in the near future making the second stage of the life of the automobile all the more exciting.

Read the full report published in Wallpaper* here 

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Reclaiming the word luxury

I’m often asked to consult for luxury brands, to consider what is luxury now and in the future, and how to communicate this effectively editorially and otherwise. This came to mind whilst watching Boyhood the other night. Not being my first screening, I was able to reflect on it in peace. For anyone who hasn’t seen this film, Boyhood is a coming-of-age movie shot in real time – the director Richard Linklater gathered the same cast every year or so, over 12 years to shoot the story of Mason age six to 18.

Linklater and his dedicated cast committed themselves to this project fully. His idea (as he told the Telegraph in an interview) was ‘this big, long time-lapse canvas about a boy growing up. I couldn’t find that one moment in the process that would have summed it up – so I thought, what if we did it all…’

Needless to say, the complexity of making a film like this is enormous – it relies on a cast willing to cooperate for 12 years, and a studio willing to gamble on a film that won’t pay in over a decade of financing, and may never profit once complete.

Kinjo Ikkokusai's lacquered box made using ancient cho-shitsu technique commissioned by Mazda for Milan Design Week 2015

Lacquered box made using ancient cho-shitsu technique

Yet this delicate film captures the concept of modern luxury. Time, authenticity, skills, craft, originality, a sense of purpose, tapping into unknown territories, a sense of being part of something bigger, of impacting on life here, now and in the future … these are just some of the elements that define what luxury is in a world where ‘stuff’ is too readily available and so easily disposable.

I receive an obscene number of daily emails with ‘luxury’ in the subject area. Much like design and curate, luxury has become a throwaway word used far too casually and out of context. Additionally the word premium seems to be bullying luxury out of the way – making its presence less and less needed.

To reclaim this once beautiful, sacred, evocative word we need to evolve the concept, inject some relevance to it. Lakshmi is the Hindu goddess of wealth, fortune, and prosperity – yet the wealth she proposes isn’t necessarily material but spiritual, it promotes a human element, it is about happiness. Luxury too is associated with wealth, but if we view wealth not as material then we can redefine the word.

Yes luxury can be conceptual – it doesn’t necessarily need to be in the physical form. It can be the feeling we get from being in contact with something special, be it how the senses ignite snuggling in the soft old leather seat of a gorgeous rare vintage car, or the warm nourishing buzz we get from spending time in the company of old trusted friends sharing delicious food and wine.

Time spent with our loved ones, seeing a dedicated cause make a difference, discovering an incredible artist, finding a rare design gem in a car boot sale, diving into the clear blue sea, traveling to a unique destination, a hand-stand in the park and seeing a familiar world turn on its head, having a stranger smile at you, experiencing simple moments that make us insanely happy…

If the purpose of luxury is to promote happiness, and happiness is a collage of the above, then the concept cannot be reduced to just stuff. We get to reclaim the word, paint it sacred again, make it relevant to future generations.

Nargess Banks

The image here is of a lacquered box being created in Hiroshima, Japan by Kinjo Ikkokusai using the ancient cho-shitsu technique whereby many layers of lacquer are applied over a lengthy period of time and the designs are then engraved on them. It was commissioned by Mazda for the 2015 Milan Salone del Mobile.

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