The Collector…

Stefano Mirti and Co.

pdf version

It was a great comic novel by Sergio Toppi (in Italian: Il collezionista): the story of this crazy man who spent all his life collecting all kinds of strange things. Of course, we are not as good as him (Mr. Toppi) at telling our stories, nor we can be defined collectors (thank God).

We aren’t able to tell our stories in beautiful drawings, we are not collectors, but still we do indulge in a certain number of hobbies and side activities. Some of these, we prefer to keep to ourselves, others, the more respectable ones we like to share with people we don’t know. For instance, one thing we like a lot is collecting all kinds of little shit while travelling. Generally we focus our attentions, on flat stuff (easy to pack in our luggage), but if the objects are small and/or foldable we usually pick them up. Once back from our trips we place them on this special wall we set up in our work place.

The studio is therefore a memoir, a conceptual bakery where visitors can taste and experience the world of Castiglioni exactly as it was once upon a time

It’s a strange place (http://projects.interaction-ivrea.it/exhibitions/), a Blue House with special cork walls where we pin our little treasures. Imagine a bi-dimensional pocket universe where everything (almost everything) is flat.

Are you still with us? Great. Imagine this white corked wall. Two and a half metres high, sixteen metres long. With all kinds of cut-outs, postcards, posters, tickets, business cards, post-its, fancy invitations and paper…… Flatties from all four corners of the world (our work is a lot of fun + a lot of stress + an enormous amount of km per month). We are very proud of our wall. But then, we had to move. After four years in the Blue House we moved on towards new adventures. Boxes, crates, pick-ups & vans. All those delirious elements that are the hard-core part of any move.

The wall has been dismantled. On one hand it’s a little bit sad (these are the moments where you understand that while you are think you are working, you are actually simply building memories to keep you busy when you’ll be in the retirement home). Like children. Who spend all their time building memories for their later years. Still, this process of dismantling the wall is nice because we can put things away with a certain order. In the following pages you can see two cities (Milan, Bangkok) where we spent quite a long time, for either work or pleasure (or, as often happens, for both at the same time).

Mr Castiglioni’s wall of wonders
Milano is a hundred things all in one, thousands of people and different situations. For us over the last few months however it has simply been studying Achille Castiglioni. One of the masters of Italian design (let’s just say that he’s one of the world’s best designers). From the end of the thirties (almost up until yesterday) he has provided us with a series of objects, installations, interiors and extraordinary architecture. Timeless objects created by a master who was always, always ahead of his time.

The epicentre of all of this illuminated and infinite genius is in Milan, in Piazza Castello 27. What was his studio, is still preserved in perfect condition thanks to the passion of Mrs Irma (his wife) and the incredibly efficient Antonella and Dianella.

The studio is therefore a memoir, a conceptual bakery where visitors can taste and experience the world of Castiglioni exactly as it was once upon a time.

The collection of everyday objects (chosen for the their intelligence or for their stupidity), prototypes, sketches, models.

A full-length mirror positioned at 45 degrees duplicates the entire space in an invisible fashion. The magazines, books, tracings and blueprints. And a thousand other fragments of a career that lasted over fifty years. All served with the impeccable hospitality of Irma: walnuts from Sorrento, delicious tangerines and assorted flavours of Baratti sweets.

In order to tell you this story we took a photograph of a section of the very long wall. Cut-outs, photos, faxes…a page of Diabolik in which Eva Kant has just bought a Castiglioni lamp. Achille O with the earphones designed by Achille C. The original Sella prototype, a group photograph of the masters of Milan (Ettore & Achille, Magistretti & Zanuso), the postcards that he sent from countries all over the world. A life in the shape of a wall.

Since October the studio has become a public place. Thanks to a partnership with the Triennale, anyone can go and visit it, to fully enjoy a past yet incredibly contemporary world. From Tuesday to Sunday, don’t miss this chance. Last comment (on the subject): in a world that is become increasingly bigotted and unbearable, here is an island where, not only is it not forbidden to smoke but if you don’t smoke, you’ll be stared at.

A Glass menagerie in Bangkok
Last but not least, our paper diary from our last trip to the East. All the way from Bangkok, the city of Angels. We’ve decided to skip all the Fashion Week reports as well as the launch of Wallpaper magazine’s Thai edition. Not to mention the exciting art scene (Rirkrit Tiravanija is just the tip of an iceberg of several talented brains operating on a 360 degree radius, on every possible front and media of contemporary art).

Imagine this Chinatown, with a special street where there are twenty shops like this. It looks like a playful paradise but it’s actually ‘funeral street’

This time, the most interesting event of our trip was not work-related. It was a sad event: we were invited to a funeral. Of course, it is not that we went from Ivrea to the Kingdom of Siam because of a funeral in Bangkok’s Chinatown. Basically, while we were there, we were invited to this ceremony, and since we are curious people we wouldn’t have missed it for anything on earth.

It was a Chinese family, very interesting stuff. The Chinese (at least the ones in South-East Asia), go to a special shop where they buy all kinds of stuff when there is a funeral. Stuff that is made out of paper. Clothes, dresses, pants, shirts, money, credit cards, cell-phones, diamonds, gold in every shape and form, houses, cars, Rolex watches…… A shop where it’s like being in Toystory, a paper (and cardboard) universe.

Imagine this Chinatown, with a special street where there are twenty shops like this. It looks like a playful paradise but it’s actually ‘funeral street’.

Then, once you’re done shopping you go to the temple, put all the things you bought together and set them on fire.

Did you get it? No? Easy. The whole point is to let the spirits of the after-life know that Mr (or Ms) XYZ is effectively dead and ready to cut all links with earthly affairs. Theologically it is a very logical process, still, if you have to set light to your Mercedes or Prada dress, it could be fairly annoying (especially for the beloved ones who remain). So, counting on the fact that the spirits have more important things to do in the (after) life than checking details, they happily burn paper imitations. Stacks of fake dollar bills, jewellery, fancy Italian shoes, the latest Ray-ban models. These Chinese. Always one step ahead. True genius. Tropical intelligence never at rest.

Now we’ve described the local funeral ritual we could go on to tell you the endless trips on the tuk-tuk (in the middle of the world’s greatest traffic-jam), the strange evening spent watching an Italian movie (After Midnight) shot in Torino. It was very weird to follow the adventures of Martino, the Mole Antonelliana’s night guard, in Thai. Of course, as always, we spent a lot of our energy buying all kind of pirate DVDs /software. Tiger balm (liquid version) as much as needed, all in a great time in the tropics.

Well, that’s it for now. Yours truly
Stefano Mirti, Simone Muscolino, Franz Goria, Line Christiansen, Tal Drori, Massimo Banzi, Walter Aprile and the rest of the e1 (exhibition unit) of Interaction Design Institute Ivrea.