Issues

The US design studios turning to Amish and Mennonite artisans for traditional furniture production

Dave Smoker, an Amish furniture maker, is intensely focused on staining a grand timber table. “I have always enjoyed art,” he says, sweeping his hair from his forehead and following the grain of the wood with long, meditative strokes of his brush. Smoker started work this morning at 05.45 and will not finish until 17.00, when he and his fellow Amish craftsmen will down tools and join their families at home for supper under the glow of battery-powered lights.

The Amish are an Anabaptist religious community – a Christian movement that traces its roots to the 16th century – that eschew cars in favour of traditional carts. Their homes are typically cut off from the electrical grid and they prefer to live apart from wider American society, content with farming, worshipping and dressing in the plain way that their ancestors did when they first landed on these shores from Switzerland and Germany some 300 years ago.

Yet the Amish and their less orthodox brethren, the Mennonites, are also some of the US’s best carpenters. They have made their own heavy-set utilitarian wares by hand for generations. Over the past few decades, Amish-made furniture has grown into a vast sector, with family-run factories and workshops dotted across the country and a whole industry dedicated to selling and shipping this work. As the owner of one US firm put it to Monocle, “These guys just know wood.”

This knowledge has seen the Anabaptist’s woodworking and joinery skills increasingly sought out by contemporary design studios across the country. Among them is Los Angeles-based Kalon Studios. Its contemporary chairs and tables have a crisp, functionalist simplicity and are designed to be timeless and sturdy enough to be passed down the generations. “The Amish and Mennonites have deep expertise about how each piece is built, which other workshops don’t always have,” says Michaele Simmering, who co-founded Kalon Studios with her partner, Johannes Pauwen, in 2007. “In Los Angeles, there is a large manufacturing industry but it’s a business of one-offs,” says Pauwen. “You can’t do sustained production.”

The US market for collectable and limited-edition design is booming, with new fairs and galleries opening coast to coast. Yet the middle ground – aspirational but accessibly priced furniture – is dominated by a few brands. This is partly because the US’s woodworking industry shrank during the 2000s, as manufacturing moved to Asia. Much of what remains has either been swept up by larger firms or is specialist facilities producing goods that are too costly to make in large numbers. Amish and Mennonite makers strike the balance, helping emerging studios to scale up while keeping their products made locally. “It opened up our business,” says Simmering. “Our number-one struggle was finding reliable, high-quality, consistent furniture production.”

California modernism might seem a far-cry from the lives of these country folk but, in the making of furniture, common ground has been found. Getting on the books of Anabaptist factories, however, is not so easy. Kalon Studios had to go through a rigorous vetting process by community elders before the craftsmen would agree to work with them, covering everything from the liquidity of their business to their “moral compass”. Indeed, monocle’s main concern reporting this story was that we could get all the way to rural Pennsylvania only to find a deserted workshop. “They might all just go home to avoid you,” said Kalon Studios before we headed there. These pious communities try to steer clear of anything that could be considered prideful.

Nevertheless, after six months of making our case, Monocle is in Pennsylvania and driving through an American pastoral of sunlit hay fields, porch swings and strawberry stands that line the side of the road. You know you’re entering Amish country because the electricity poles and billboards that feature on most US roads start to peter out. We soon pass tiny hamlets with German bakeries and Victorian houses. When we see a woman in an ankle-length dress and bonnet, watering the weedy flowers beside her post box and a teenager riding a bicycle with no gears (such mechanisms are deemed to be too hi-tech), we know that we’re in the right place.

Kalon works with several workshops in the small Pennsylvanian town of Lebanon (pronounced “Lib’nan” locally) to build some of its chairs and stools. It is a real family operation, with Earl Zimmerman – grandfather to no less than 53 children – at the head of the factory we visit, which has just celebrated its 50th year in business. When Monocle visits, a ripsaw is in action on the production floor, slicing through logs that will eventually be turned into seats. Raw slabs of Pennsylvania black-cherry wood from sustainably managed forests sit at one end of the workspace.

The Zimmermans are Mennonites who, unlike most Amish, own modern technology such as cnc woodcutters, have mobile phones and even run a website for the business. “But the computer is a tool and not a toy,” says Earl’s son Nate, who walks us through operations on the factory floor. He explains that such technology must be used warily and only if it makes the community’s work more efficient, therefore allowing it to continue its way of life.

Old-fashioned, hands-on skills are preferable and apprenticeships are a key part of the culture. Most children start learning a trade – whether that’s farming or joinery – while still in school. Nate’s son Trevor, aged 13 and on holidays, is at his father’s side. “We say that there’s a lot more caught than taught here,” says Nate. “Skills come from watching how the work is done.”  Young Trevor has already adopted the unofficial uniform of the Mennonite carpenter: tucked-in shirt, pencils in his top pocket and a tape measure clipped to his belt.

For Kalon Studios, the Zimmermans are not just fabricators but collaborators, offering suggestions of how to hone their designs for greater longevity. The brand’s Bough stool was inspired by the sashimono woodworking tradition, which uses complex, concealed joinery to give it strength. This was developed by Kalon Studios over the course of two years. “It fits together really snugly,” says Pauwen, admiring one of the products. “There’s beauty in these joints.”

The scale and capacity of these firms have been steadily growing too. Mennonite factories in the US are  now competing with European manufacturers for contracts, especially for restaurant-chain fit-outs with large orders. The Zimmermans have a second facility on the other side of Lebanon, which makes 350 chairs every week. “We have a reputation for longevity, which serves us well,” says Wendel Zimmerman, who runs the factory with his three brothers and maintains a trusted workforce of smartly dressed carpenters with exacting standards. Notable design brands now produce their work with Zimmerman, though many prefer to remain discreet about it – in part because competition for craftsmen is so high. Monocle’s recent collaboration with Collect Studio on a series of chopping boards and bowls was made here.

Wendel says that Zimmerman is receiving more requests from the design world but the company remains selective about who it works with, prioritising brands with repeat orders and what Wendel calls “good values”. “We will end up taking on more high-end projects in the future,” he says. “I hear from larger manufacturers that this has become a significant amount of their output.”

Case in point is US heritage brand Emeco, which has been working with Mennonite factories for 15 years. Best known for its all-aluminium Navy chair, Emeco joined forces with British designer Michael Young in 2010 to create its first-ever piece of wooden furniture, which was produced at Mennonite and Amish factories in Pennsylvania. “Finding these craftsmen was so important,” says Gregg Buchbinder, Emeco’s owner. “The Navy chair is made to last for 150 years, so the question was always how we could make a wooden chair with that kind of longevity too.”  Today many of Emeco’s wooden products are machined in Mennonite workshops. “A lot of makers have exported their production overseas but having complete control and oversight of the process means that we can communicate to the market why ours is a better product.”

This is a concern for many emerging US design firms that want the way they make their products to be in keeping with the ethos of their brand. That can be in terms of sustainability (US-made products, while more expensive, don’t have to be shipped from the other side of the world) or a level of finishing. With regards to the latter, brands are at the mercy of the manufacturers that they partner with and, as a result, designs can often be watered down to fit the capabilities of a factory. Mennonite and Amish factories are helping to bridge that gap. At another family-run, Mennonite-owned workshop in Lebanon with a row of buggies lined up out front, Monocle finds Amish men in boater hats and braces working silently and diligently on a batch of dressers for Kalon Studios. “Our single strongest asset is our work ethic,” says the factory’s owner, Kevin Martin. “This is our contribution to society: our work is what we pay for the space we take up.”

With Mennonite factories, Monocle is told, you pay a little more for the service but can be assured that the work will be done on time – and that you aren’t getting ripped off. A popular psalm daubed on houses and mailboxes all over Amish country sets the tone: “The Lord does abhor the deceitful.”

How to throw the perfect festive gathering: 20 tips from esteemed hosts

1.
Lilli Elias
Based in Amsterdam, Elias is the founder of Autumn Sonata, a line of towels and table linens launched in 2022, which uses antique prints to create heritage-inspired textiles

“A rule of thumb for Christmas entertaining? More is more. I always invite a few too many people, make too much food (including multiple desserts), pour a lot of wine and gradually turn the music up until it’s a little too loud, in the hope that dinner will transform into a party. Something that I don’t like at a festive gathering? Cold bare feet. Shoes should stay on unless the house is well-carpeted.

“I like to have something light to drink before eating. A heavier digestif, such as cognac, should follow with dessert. Having said this, it’s important to know whether or not you are a good cook. If not, please spare your guests and order a takeaway.

“So many dishes say winter to me but I particularly love brussel sprouts, roasted squash with pomegranate and chicories with herbs.

“I’ll be in New York this winter and will inevitably end up at one of my favourite restaurants, La Mercerie, for indulgent dishes, festive drinks and an altogether delightful atmosphere. As much as I love white tablecloths, I have had to move on after one too many trips to the dry cleaners. I adore using patterned table linens from my brand, Autumn Sonata. I couldn’t survive without decorating a gingerbread house. I plan and gather inspiration all year round until I’m ready to execute.”

2.
Gerald Li
Li is the Hong-Kong based co-founder of Leading Nation, a hospitality group behind several fine-dining establishments across Asia.

“Excessive formality is something that I don’t want around the table. I like to keep it relaxed and fun; there’s no need for stiff manners. The host should always have one memorable bottle of wine to hand.

“Roasted bone-in prime rib is the dish that always signals the holidays to me. The table needs ample wine glasses and enough plates and cutlery for each guest to ensure that there’s no mixing and matching. I don’t like fruit cake or panettone, so you won’t see them on my table. Maybe there’s a reason why they’re only served at Christmas. Family game night, which mainly involves Vietnamese mahjong, is the one thing that I couldn’t do without.”

3.
Jonny Gent
Gent is a painter and the founder of Sessions Art Club in London’s Clerkenwell and Boath House hotel in the Scottish Highlands.

“Candlelight is essential for a Christmas party, as is lots of hard liquor to loosen up your guests. You want gossip, laughter and tears of joy. The playlist is also key. It’s probably the first thing that I put together as it sets the mood for the evening. In terms of who’s coming to dinner, it’s all about intimacy and how much you want to squeeze into a short window of time. It has to be the closest of friends and family. You must adore their company. It should feel as though you’re partaking in a last supper, without the death bit, of course.

When it comes to setting the table, I pick the whitest of linen tablecloths because I love to see how filthy it gets by the end of dinner. I also always lay the table with napkins bought from Auldearn Antiques in the Highlands, which are embroidered with the initials of a dead aunt from Dundee.

My food intolerances include any dish cooked from a recipe on social media that isn’t made by an actual chef and any light bulb that has more than 1.5 watts. I feel a deep sense of love when I drag out the raclette machine. I serve it with grilled bacon, sausages and mushrooms. There are also piles of pickles and crudités, as well as a Swiss dip that my wife learned how to make while growing up in Geneva. The recipe is a secret.

I love the scrambling and constant movement of cooking and eating raclette. People waiting for the cheese to melt. The shame and horror as you try to pour it before it is ready.

For an aperitif and digestif, I’ll have a martini made by Indre from Sessions Arts Club, followed by a strong and creamy Irish coffee.

The tables that I’ll be booking this winter are The Yellow Bittern and Bentley’s Oyster Bar & Grill for late-December oysters and a prawn cocktail. The thing that I won’t be doing? Tuning in to the King’s speech.”

4.
Juliet Linley
Linley is a Trinidadian-Swiss broadcast journalist and former Vatican correspondent now based in Zürich. She’s also a regular on Monocle Radio.

“Dancing flames in the fireplace, candles on the dining table, warm petit fours to welcome guests in from the cold and an abundance of comfort food and drinks all say Christmas to me. 

“I have fond memories of sunny Christmases celebrated at my grandparents’ home in Port of Spain, Trinidad and Tobago. My brothers, cousins and I would gorge on pastelles [steamed cornmeal patties filled with mincemeat and capers and doused in pepper sauce] and doubles [cumin-and-turmeric fritters], eaten with curried chickpeas and tangy tamarind chutney.

“Aperitivo? Always. Preferably sourdough bruschette topped off with freshly pressed olive oil, anchovies and burrata, and accompanied by with a glass of Tuscan wine. I’m heading to Tuscany before Christmas this year with my family. We’ll be visiting our favourite trattoria, Da Sandra. The owner, Sandra, makes all the pasta dishes herself, from fresh truffle tagliolini to gnocchi with porcini mushrooms and sautéed pumpkin. But our family favourite is her fillet with paper-thin slices of lard. It is quite simply melt-in-your-mouth glorious.

“Sometimes, we have fish fondue for dinner on Christmas Eve, before heading out to Midnight Mass at St Peter’s Basilica if we are in Rome. We set the table with vintage fish knives, long-stemmed forks, earthenware pots for the bubbling broth, lots of home-made sauces and several platters of raw fish and shellfish. A traditional panettone is a must at Christmas. But a tasty Trinidadian black cake infused with dark rum also rings in the holiday season for our family. All I want for Christmas? A new Monocle tote bag.”

5.
Eduardo Aires
Aires is a Porto-based designer who was responsible for the city’s peerless graphic rebrand.

“Aperitif? Digestif? Both, with lots of unashamed joy, and, more often than not, a singsong. My only intolerance is last-minute shopping. It’s a waste of time, energy and money. Bad choices get made in a hurry.

“As I’m from Portugal, the food that reminds me most of the holidays is cod. Growing up, however, my mother also used to make deep-fried, bow-shaped sweet pastries. My go-to winter restaurant to book in Porto is Cafeína. After dinner, I usually drop in on my favourite bar, Passos Manuel, in an old converted cinema.

“For Christmas, I’d really like to finish my book. It’s about the design collaboration that I have been working on for the past 16 years with Esporão, one of Portugal’s biggest and oldest wine estates.

“The only thing that I don’t want to see around the table is mobile phones. Christmas dinner is special, so I like to be able to look people in the eyes while conversing with them. It’s a time of year when I see people who I might have struggled to otherwise, so we sometimes have a lot to catch up on – a year’s worth of stories. I don’t want to ruin that time with screens.

“I have a very special embroidered tablecloth that I only use during the holidays. It is from the island of Madeira and it took nearly three years to complete. When I put it down, it signals that the table is ready to be set. I’d love it if Christmas happened more frequently. It’s a catch-22. Perhaps it would make the holiday seem less special. But it would be nice to try to adopt these joyful family moments into our daily lives as much as possible.”

6.
Jean-Charles Carriani
Carriani is the co-founder of Rose Bakery group, the outposts of which include popular berths at Le Bon Marché and DSM Paris.

“The rules of basic hosting are to be friendly and a good listener; you should be happy to be talking to your guests. Aperitifs are also essential and should always be accompanied by goodies fresh from the oven. My winter treat of choice is a good bottle of English sparkling wine. When it comes to setting the table, I never forget the essentials: salt and a good bottle of red.”

7.
Christopher Tan
Tan is a former columnist at ‘The Straits Times’ and an award-winning food writer, cookbook author and cookery teacher.

“When it comes to hosting, pacing yourself is crucial. Whether you’re a host or a guest, quality is more important than quantity: good parties over more parties. In terms of food, I am spiritually allergic to poorly cooked turkey. It has to be marinated in some sort of spice paste. A really good deep-dish pie with a curry filling is what says Christmas to me. Tandoori-turkey malai tikka kebabs are the best, as is a really good traditional pandoro, which I slowly eke out – thin slice by thin slice – over the course of December. When it comes to setting the table, the less fuss, the better.

“If I could have my own way, I would line it with banana leaves and make everyone eat with their hands. I can do without the weird jumpers too, which, thankfully, I don’t have to deal with in Singapore.”

8.
Oliver Spencer
Clothing designer and retailer Spencer founded his smart menswear brand in London in 2002 and recently opened a new shop on Marylebone’s Chiltern Street.

“Having some European family, there are two sets of rules for hosting at Christmas: European customs and English table arrangements. The host changes every year – we’re in Miami this year and, perhaps, Warwickshire the next – but cooking duties are always shared between different family members. 

“For me, Christmas is about bringing together the old, the young and those who are usually on their own. Dinners and festivities are a time to connect with one another – and everyone should be invited. We usually have about 15 people around the table. 

“I never have turkey for Christmas. Instead, I always opt for a good roast beef. My family likes to decorate the table with a simple tablecloth, dried fruit and cinnamon sticks. It’s seasonal, simple and makes the room smell good.”

9.
Michelle Chow
Chow is the founder of Pass It On, a design studio, gifting platform and brand of eco-friendly homeware based in Singapore.

“I believe in the three “R”s of hosting: respect, relax, and reuse. Respect for my guests’ tastes, relax to let conversations flow and, of course, reuse everything, from upcycled tableware to repurposed decor. I have an intolerance for plastic cutlery and single-use anything. The worst Christmas tradition? Plastic toys that get forgotten by New Year’s Day. I’d rather skip the gimmicks.

“For drinks, I’ll open with something light and refreshing, such as Glug Glug’s vinho verde, and close with a digestif from Australian wine-pouch brand A Glass Of, which champions the work of independent vintners. For dinner, I’ll make a squash risotto with regional produce and garnish it with fresh herbs from the balcony garden. It’s a dish that always reminds me of winter.

“The restaurant that I can’t wait to try this Christmas is Somma in Singapore [see number 11]. I’m not a huge drinker but if I do go out for cocktails, it’ll be at Fura. What I most want for Christmas is a two-week holiday and a visit to Kamikatsu, Japan’s “zero-waste” town.”

10.
Zeynep Fadillioglu
Fadillioglu is a Turkish interior designer based between Istanbul, London and Doha. In 2009, she became the first woman to design a mosque.

“When it comes to hosting, I enjoy mixing timeless tableware from brands such as Christofle, Baccarat, Rosenthal, Wedgwood and Ginori 1735 with vibrant, artisanal plates from the likes of Levant. Hand-embroidered tablecloths paired with colourful centrepieces from designers such as Carolina Irving add a wonderful dimension to the table.

“I prefer to prolong the pre-dinner part of any festive gathering to allow for genuine interactions with my guests. The restaurants that I have designed all have lounge areas where people can enjoy their drinks before eating. This fosters a certain warmth that encourages people to continue on to their table. This winter, I’ll be dining at Canton Blue in The Peninsula. I’ll also visit Chiltern Firehouse for drinks and food.”

11.
Mirko Febbrile
Pugliese chef Febbrile is the Italian restaurateur behind Fico in Singapore’s East Coast Park and Somma in the city’s just-opened New Bahru development.

“Hosting is all about the little details that bring warmth and connection to a gathering. For me, a non-negotiable for every occasion is fresh farm flowers. I love chamomile, olive branches and artichoke flowers. I want to be with people who are on the same wavelength and value connection. Relationships deepen when we can share plates and conversation without expecting anything in return. We always make sure to have a selection of panettoni. They sit under the tree until Christmas. We usually end up with so many that they become a breakfast staple right through until February. My dad absolutely adores dipping his panettone into milk.

“I love Christmas and everything that comes with it, from ugly sweaters to Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You”. Having said that, I have spent the past decade away from home, so I have learned to adapt to Christmas in Singapore without the usual traditions.”

12.
Alberto Alessi
Alessi is president of Italian design company Alessi Spa, which was established in 1921.

“I’ll be booking a table at Il Clandestino in Stresa this winter. Stresa is a small town on Lake Maggiore, which is crowded in the summer but quiet in the winter. Chef Franco Marasco offers the best fish in the area. To drink, I’ll start with a kir royale. Then a glass of good wine, preferably pinot noir, followed by grappa or aged calvados. My food intolerance? Tomatoes. French chef Alain Chapel’s chocolate cake is the dish that says winter to me.

“This Christmas, I would like to be with my books. I’m proud of my collection, which includes titles on the history of my region, Lake Orta, Lake Maggiore and the valleys of Ossola. I have been collecting them since I was a teenager and now there are about 12,000 books and documents in my library, which I plan to make into a foundation. Aside from the newest pieces from Alessi, I’ll line the dinner table with a selection of old silver objects by British and Austrian designers Christopher Dresser and Josef Hoffmann.

“In my opinion, the worst Christmas tradition is being with too many people. My mother, Germana, used to organise dinner at home for the entire family, which involved about 40 of us of all ages. She believed it was her duty and did it extremely well. But I found it unbearable and I escaped as quickly as possible.”

13.
Enrique Olvera
Olvera is a Mexican chef at the helm of Pujol in Mexico City, as well as restaurants in New York and Oaxaca City.

“Nowadays, I like to keep Christmas celebrations within a close circle of people. I also like going to houses rather than restaurants. I normally have a dinner party for my close team of collaborators and friends. During this time, I tend to visit Los Cabos, Mexico City and New York, which are my three favourite cities to spend the holidays in.

“If for whatever reason you don’t want to host a party, it’s OK to skip a year of hospitality. That’s the beauty of Christmas and New Year; you get to do it all again the next year.

“I like to start with some champagne or a non-alcoholic agua fresca with a dash of sparkling water, so you still get that feeling of celebration. After dinner, I’ll have what’s called asobre mesa: time spent talking in the company of friends and family. It’s always nice to do this with a glass of mezcal or Japanese whiskey in hand. Romeritos, a leafy green herb that grows during winter in Mexico, always reminds me of Christmas. It is traditionally served with dried fish, prawns, potatoes and nopales [cactus]. There’s a lot of mole in it. I also like anything that is roasted. It’s something that tells me we’re in the Christmas season. I’ll often throw a bird, ham or mushrooms in the oven. I decorate the table with beautiful placemats made from the threads of Oaxacan agave. I like to do things family-style, so it’s important to have nice cookware. That way, you can leave the food in the pots that you cook it in. My mother used to make bacalhau, dried salt cold, which she would form with her hands into a paste. I prefer to keep the fish in bigger chunks.

“In terms of restaurants, I enjoy going to Máximo Bistrot in Mexico City during winter. Eduardo “Lalo” García’s cooking is heavily influenced by French cuisine, so you can expect everything to be a little buttery. There’s also a lot of roasted produce. If I’m in New York, I’ll probably be at the bar at The Bowery Hotel.”

14.
Ralph Schelling
Schelling is a Swiss chef who has worked at El Bulli, The Fat Duck in the UK and Ryugin in Tokyo. He’s also a regular recipe contributor for Monocle.

“Bitter-leaf salad with slices of Sicilian orange is a must during winter. I enjoy hosting large dinners with handwritten place cards laid around the table. I’ll start the evening with an aperitif from Ghia mixed with agramonte gin, ginger and a little bit of cardamom.

“My main food intolerance is fake butter – it’s a weird concept when you’re from cow country. When it comes to booking a restaurant this winter, I would recommend trying out Via Carota, a charming Italian trattoria in New York.”

15.
Jacqueline Ngo Mpii
Ngo Mpii is an entrepreneur, author and creative director. She is the founder of Little Africa, a Paris-based cultural agency that seeks to amplify African heritage in the French capital.

“As a new parent, all I want for Christmas is sleep and no cooking duties. Everyone is welcome for Christmas dinner. It is mainly a celebration for family members but it should also be offered to those who are considered to be extended family, which includes partners, friends and colleagues. This makes for a more interesting evening, with added stories and laughs.

“I will, of course, have both an aperitif and a digestif. As we say in Paris, “C’est la base” [“It’s necessary”]. Make sure to leave plenty of time for conversation before the meal; an apéro is not an apéro if it lasts for less than an hour. Poulet DG, a special dish from Cameroon made with chicken, plantain and vegetables, always reminds me of Christmas.”

16.
Sandra Sándor
Sándor is the founder of Budapest-based fashion brand Nanushka. The label has become a flag-bearer for high-quality Central European craftmanship and design.

“I love to add volume and proportion to my tablescapes. I use chrome napkin rings and bold candle holders to offset an otherwise very simple, classic and neutral setting. I also have a large collection of vintage ceramic plates and bowls. Collecting vintage pieces has been a passion of mine for a long time. I have amassed them during my travels over the years.

“Something that’s important to me is making my guests feel at home. I want them to be able to relax, so soft furnishings and comfortable seats are important, as is the right amount of candlelight. Mood lighting can really change the atmosphere of a space.

“My favourite winter meal is túrógombóc, a Hungarian dumpling dish made from sweet cheese that’s boiled and rolled in breadcrumbs. It’s rich and delicious, and always feels like a treat. It gives me the sweetest feeling of nostalgia.

“It’s tradition that we spend Christmas with my parents in Marbella. Since they are retired, they live there during the winter. Spending time with them is sacred and it’s something that I look forward to every year.”

17.
Kristoffer Juhl
Juhl is the co-founder and managing director of Copenhagen-based textile company Tekla, which creates soft furnishings, pyjamas, sheets and throws.

“My advice for the holidays? Be generous. Take the time to prepare things well. The food and the details are what make hosting fun. Linens are such an important part of a good table – luckily, Tekla makes great ones.

“In the lead-up to the big day, Danes usually spend time with friends – old and new – and colleagues at a julefrokost [Christmas lunch]. In my family, our favourite festive dish is caramelised potatoes. It’s the perfect partner to the duck, turkey or pork that often comes with it. My grandmother makes amazing braised cabbage too. Schnapps is the digestif that helps us through the pickled herring and the fatty pork. You have to be careful though: for the inexperienced, it can knock your socks off.

“All I want for Christmas is new pots and pans. And peace and harmony, of course. In Scandinavia, there’s a tradition of singing and dancing around the tree after Christmas dinner. I’m excited for my daughter to be old enough to do this.”

18.
Annalisa Rosso
Rosso is the editorial director and cultural-events advisor of Milan’s globally renowned design fair Salone del Mobile.

“For us, the magic rule is to have a maximum of eight people around our dining table. It’s the perfect number for a good conversation. All the other conventions can go out the window. We even talk politics at dinner.

“It is always nice to meet new people. Friends of friends are welcome at our home. We try to match people up with others coming from different spheres of our life. Those who aren’t welcome are those who don’t have much of an appetite.

“We like to host long dinners followed by a spot of limoncello, which we make from green lemons grown on the Amalfi coast. Frozen meals are, of course, a no. Pumpkin risotto with chestnuts is always a winter favourite.

“This year, I’ll be booking a table at Trattoria della Gloria in Milan, which is run by Tommaso Melilli and his amazing crew. Then I’ll have a negroni sbagliato at Bar Basso. For Christmas, I’d like a secular version of a presepe, a nativity scene. ”

19.
Colin Chee
Melbourne-based Chee is the founder of Never Too Small, a design media company that spotlights smaller spaces occupied and decorated by renowned designers.

“We decided to start a new tradition by hosting a Christmas lunch in our cosy 40 sq m studio apartment. It was my partner’s idea to invite people over who find themselves alone during the holidays.

“Melbourne, much like London, is a city where people come and go, so each Christmas, we welcome regulars as well as new friends. There are funny people, loud folks, introverts and extroverts – anyone who isn’t afraid of open conversation and can handle a bit of drama and fun. And as for who isn’t coming? Those who dislike dogs.

“My partner is English and enjoys eating a roast, so I’m considering a West-meets-East feast for this year’s gathering: traditional roast pork belly with sweet soy-and-ginger sauce.”

20.
Elsa Ravazzolo Botner
Ravazzolo Botner is the director of one of Brazil’s leading modern art galleries, A Gentil Carioca, which has branches in Rio de Janeiro and São Paolo. 

“Our collector friends from Naples are coming to dinner this year. They are great cooks and like to make struffoli, a special Neapolitan Christmas pastry, made from fried dough and honey. They also treat us to spaghetti with fish, minestra maritata soup and stromboli [bread stuffed with cheese and salami]. I use my trips to Milan as an excuse to bring back panettone. I have never found a good one in Rio.

“I don’t really like Christmas decorations here: the fake snow and people dressed up as Santa seems a bit silly when it is 40C outside. It doesn’t make much sense. But the contrast is fun to see. Though I really think that Santa Claus should wear a bikini here.”

How to get dressed: Jeweller Gaia Repossi shares her advice

For jeweller Gaia Repossi, it seems that creativity is genetic: her great-grandfather founded the Repossi jewellery brand in Turin in the 1950s. After studying painting and archaeology in Paris, she began to help her father at Repossi’s Place Vendôme atelier, and in 2007 she joined the business as creative and artistic director. Today, Gaia applies principles of art and architecture to her work, often breaking the rules of conventional jewellery-making to create contemporary pieces. It’s a breath of fresh air in an industry that is often bogged down by tradition. Access to Repossi’s rich archives also means that Gaia has unlimited visual references to inform her work.

Repossi’s flair for design translates to the way that she dresses, which is both elegant and conceptual. Here, she shares some of her biggest influences and explains why comfort is key in both jewellery and fashion.

Do you have any rules when it comes to getting dressed?
Follow your instincts. You should go for things that suit you. I prefer a more androgynous style and opt for a lot of menswear. I like to pay attention to what’s going on in the fashion world and make an effort to understand the trends. Ultimately, however, I focus on the brands that resonate with my own aesthetic. Fashion can feel very overwhelming and, at times, superficial.

Who are some of the designers you connect with?
The work of Bottega Veneta creative director Matthieu Blazy is fascinating. He plays with leather and creates new silhouettes. His clothes have become a uniform for me. I’m also drawn to Pieter Mulier’s designs for Alaïa and the way that they sculpt the body. I wear a lot of Phoebe Philo too. Her work is elegant but also feels comfortable and casual.

Does the way you approach jewellery design reflect your taste in fashion?
It’s all linked. The key to making jewellery relevant nowadays is to choose more contemporary shapes and silhouettes. Fashion speaks to the women of today and tomorrow, so why can’t jewellery do the same? The materials might be more expensive than those for making clothes but it doesn’t mean that you have to make classic shapes.

What advice would you give to someone coming to Repossi for the first time?
You’ll probably choose a ring as your first piece from us. Having a signature ring on each hand is a modern way of wearing jewellery. I’m also a big fan of ear cuffs. Jewellery should be comfortable and light. When you make the shape of a piece more abstract, it feels softer and more enjoyable to wear – just as with clothes. Comfort allows you to be yourself. If you’re constricted, you can’t move freely or express yourself.

How do your shopping habits change with the seasons?
I don’t buy that many things, just a few key pieces per season. I prefer to shop for vintage clothes as it is a more playful experience. I collect a lot of Gucci pieces from the Tom Ford era. They’re simple, well-cut and a little strange – perfect if you don’t want to dress like everyone else. We live in a world of [social media] influencing, where getting dressed is now a job. I try to stick to my own ideas, instead of conforming to trends. I don’t think that we’re interested in looking at products that way any more.

Bedding down at Michelhaus, an Alpine hotel in an 800-year-old mountain town

Anyone seeking an authentically Helvetic home for the holidays this winter should consider swapping the grand hotels of Gstaad, Verbier and Zermatt for something less well-known. Set in the 800-year-old mountain town of Ernen in the canton of Valais, Michelhaus is a new property from Reto Holzer. The Zürich hair salon-owner purchased the three-storey building for himself in 2020 before opening it up to holidaymakers.

The chalet from 1686 was in dire need of renovation when Holzer bought it. Working with Valais architects and carpenters, he saved the original floors and the stone hearth that still boasts the coat of arms of the family who built the place. “The architects here are used to the complexities of renovating old chalets,” Holzer tells Monocle as he crosses the 350-year-old floorboards in a quilted Moncler jacket, his chocolate-brown poodle, Maxime, at his heels.

Once the bones of the building were safe, Holzer split the house into two apartments that can each sleep up to five people in plush Hästens beds. Antique milking stools, cowbells and paintings from brocantes contribute to the old-world decor, while Holzer also furnished the house with modern pieces including Mies van der Rohe’s Barcelona daybed and Stella McCartney’s take on Mario Bellini’s Le Bambole sofa for B&B Italia. “This is a place for people looking for something rustic and cosy,” he says, opening the doors to the balcony. “I like the mix between old and new.” From our perch, we hear the tinkling bells of cows grazing in the field as Holzer points out the Finsteraarhorn, the highest peak of the Bernese Alps. “I like to come here because it’s quiet; life is slower.”

Ernen, a town of 550 people, is something of a time capsule. Until the Napoleonic era, this grassy patch of the Alps – less than a three-hour drive from Zürich and Geneva – was an important crossroad in the Mitteleuropean trade route. But the town’s importance waned when the Simplon and Grand St Bernard passes were built, improving cross-mountain travel.

Case in point: the unappetisingly named local dish of cholera. As we gather around the table for lunch, Holzer brings out the pie, filled with apple, potato, onion and raclette cheese — a hotchpotch of the limited resources that locals could access throughout the winters. Joining Monocle is the mayor, Francesco Walter – it’s a small town, remember – who has spearheaded Ernen’s music festival since 1998. “I have a passion for culture and saw the festival as an opportunity for tourism,” says Walter. “When I joined, it consisted of six concerts taking place over two weeks. Now we host more than 50 events a year.”

As a bottle of Swiss white is uncorked, conversation flows. Hunkered in Holzer’s chalet, the calm that might elude you in Gstaad, Verbier or Zermatt is as hard to ignore as the Alps out the window.
michelhaus.ch

From slick suits to coveted coats, here’s our selection of menswear to keep the cold at bay

MODEL: Ikken Yamamoto
GROOMING: Kenichi Yaguchi
PRODUCER: Shigeru Nakagawa
LOCATION: The Conran Shop Daikanyama

The festival, record factory and app showing the music industry a world beyond streaming

How to start a music festival
Pinkfish Music & Arts Festival
Malaysia

Before Kuala Lumpur-based entrepreneur Kesavan “KC” Purusotman co-founded Pinkfish with Rohit Rampal, his childhood friend and business partner, the duo had spent more than 15 years organising music events and concerts. “There was a demand for live music after the coronavirus restrictions were lifted so we decided to realise our dream of putting on a music festival,” says Purusotman.

The inaugural edition of the Pinkfish Music & Arts Festival in April 2023 featured international and regional headliners, from French producer DJ Snake to Malaysian rap star Joe Flizzow. In June 2024 the festival returned to the Sunway Lagoon theme park in Subang Jaya city, attracting some 15,000 attendees. “We wanted to focus on creating a unique atmosphere, one in which people could build a long-term relationship with the business and not just with the headline acts,” says Purusotman (pictured). “Music is the heart of every festival but it’s important to emphasise other elements too.” Purusotman also runs several satellite events under the Pinkfish umbrella, including Pinkfish Countdown on New Year’s Eve, indoor concerts and pop-up performances across Kuala Lumpur between its bigger calendar fixtures, from the Pinkfish Express (a party train featuring DJs playing in carriages) to artist sets in ice-cream shops.

The sense of community generated by these events is a crucial part of what makes the brand unique. “It’s what music is all about,” says Purusotman. “If you go to almost any other concert, you’ll probably sit down with a few friends to enjoy the show and then go home. But there are no fixed seats at a music festival, so it’s easier to meet new people.”

Large-scale events such as Pinkfish Music & Arts Festival are a boon for Malaysia’s tourism industry but strict government guidelines can make hosting them difficult. Earlier this year the Malaysian Islamic Party questioned why the Pinkfish Express event was allowed to take place on a state-owned train. Purusotman, however, believes that it’s possible to find common ground with the authorities. “There’s still a long way to go before we can realise our goals but the dialogue with officials is moving forward. I’m grateful for that.”
pinkfishfestival.com

The fairer music app
Even
New York

“I got lucky,” says Mag Rodriguez, reflecting on his 12-year career in the music industry. During his final year of high school, Rodriguez started managing a classmate who then broke onto the global rap scene. “We toured the world for six years,” he says.

When you meet Rodriguez in person, you get a sense of why he did so well as a manager: he’s easy to warm to. That magnanimous spirit is at the heart of his latest venture, Even. Most artists make little money from sharing their music on services such as Spotify. Even seeks to address the issue by offering music creators a “direct-to-fan” model. “With the major streamers, you can get access to almost every song ever created through subscriptions for about $12 [€10] a month,” he says. “But you can only split that fee in so many ways and the platform also has to take a cut.” On average, artists make about a third of a cent per stream.

Rodriguez says that Even isn’t seeking to replace the big streaming services. “I tell people to think of it like a cinema,” he says. “Artists release their album on the app seven to 30 days before it’s officially out everywhere else.” They can also encourage fans to buy their music by giving out rewards such as backstage passes.

Recently an artist making $700 (€630) per month from streaming earned $40,000 (€36,000) in 30 hours on Even. But Rodriguez (pictured) is equally excited by musicians who have gone from never making money from their work to earning their first $25 (€19).

Rodriguez is especially animated when he talks about the app’s community-building potential. Not long ago, he says, fans of one of Even’s artists planned to meet up before a gig. Tracking this through the app, the performer decided to make a surprise appearance. “Social media has created a false sense of how big fan bases are. But nothing beats realising that these are real people on the other side.”
even.biz

Making vinyl pay
Record Industry
Haarlem, Netherlands

Factory worker Jos van Wieren is carefully peeling a stamper negative from its “mother” disc when we meet him at Record Industry in Haarlem. The creation of stampers, which are used to press grooves into vinyl, is just one of the labour-intensive stages of making a record. “It’s like Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” says the company’s chief commercial officer, Anouk Rijnders, striding through the 6,000 sq m warehouse.

Bubbling blue vats of solvent, sapphire and diamond cutting heads, and gleaming, direct metal mastering discs are all part of the process of turning PVC slabs (or “biscuits”) into records. From a special edition of Pink Floyd’s The Dark Side of the Moon to the tunes of Dutch rock band The Vices, this factory presses as many as 10 million discs per year.

Despite dire warnings over the decades that CDs, MP3s, online piracy and, more recently, streaming services would spell doom for the vinyl format, Record Industry has kept the decks spinning. “I have been working here for almost 25 years and this is probably the fourth time I have seen vinyl making a comeback,” says Rijnders. “It never really goes away.”

Founded as Artone in 1958 and now run by husband-and-wife team Ton and Mieke Vermeulen, Record Industry is a place where historic machinery meets modern automation. As an artist manager and record-label owner, Ton was a long-term client of the press before 1998, when Sony Music decided to sell it. He admits that he had concerns about the future of the business when he bought the factory. “It felt as though a new record plant was closing  every month because of the decline in vinyl’s popularity at the time,” he says.

Record Industry’s status as a family enterprise and its commercial flexibility have been crucial to its survival. It can press about 40,000 discs a day, in as many as 20 different colours (or a mixture of them), and make records using plant-based bioplastics. The building is also equipped with a direct-to-disc recording studio, which regularly attracts musicians. It’s an elaborately furnished space, containing everything from Rijnders’ grandmother’s rug to hi-tech cutting equipment.

Mieke, who serves as Record Industry’s chief financial officer, says that the height of the coronavirus pandemic was a boom time for the company. “There were no festivals or concerts but people who liked music still wanted to spend their money on it,” she says. “A lot of people started cleaning up their house, starting with the attic, and found their record players. Putting on a record is not just listening to music; it’s quality time for yourself. If you listen to music on streaming services, you can go for hours without doing anything. But if you play a record, you have to stand up and turn it over. It’s mindful.”

Though demand has dipped since then, many continue to buy records to support their favourite artists. Staff members also point out that, though vinyl is a form of plastic, it is far from a throwaway item. “We’ve made our production process as sustainable as possible,” says Ton. “Our electricity is solar- or wind-powered and the gas that we use for our boilers is co2 compensated. Plus, the cardboard used for packaging is fsc-controlled.” For the team at Record Industry, the business is as much about sharing an enthusiasm for the format as it is the bottom line. “It’s something to hold, admire and be proud of,” says Rijnders.
recordindustry.com

As geopolitical tensions rise, how free is the sky?

In his book Skyfaring, Belgian-American writer and pilot Mark Vanhoenacker notes that while aviation is “commonly associated with the levelling of difference, with the bulldozing of borders between places and times and languages”, it has also “resulted in the creation of new realms of geography”. The “administrative divisions of airspace” are not the traditional global demarcations that we might recognise. Rather, writes Vanhoe­nacker, they are “sky countries” – regions governed by air-traffic-control authorities, with borders and histories of their own, even ranging beyond terrestrial boundaries into “oceanic airspace”.

Japan, for instance, is known to pilots as “Fukuoka”, while the zone dubbed “Salt Lake City” actually covers parts of nine US states. The country with the largest airspace in the world, Australia, is not the nation with the largest landmass (which is Russia). This is because Airservices Australia oversees air-traffic control not only for the sovereign nation but the “flight-information regions” of the Solomon Islands and Nauru, a vast swath of territory comprising about 11 per cent of the world’s total airspace.

While the sky might symbolise freedom, there’s little about it that’s free in a monetary or legal sense. Piloting through a country’s airspace means incurring overflight fees. Travelling above “flyover country” in the US, for example, will set you back $61.75 (€57) for every 100 nautical miles. Fees are typically charged to pay for the provision of air-traffic control. The steep cost of crossing the Trans-Siberian route, however, has been used to subsidise Aeroflot, Russia’s flag carrier.

Most airlines have paid these fees for the convenience of reducing travel times and distance – as well as saving fuel costs. In 2021, US carriers petitioned the State Department to help them to expand their ability to fly through Russian airspace, warning that without this, “US airlines will be forced to operate on alternate, inefficient routes, resulting in time penalties, technical stops, excess co2 emissions and loss of historic slot rights.”

Not long afterwards, Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine. When the EU, US and Canada blocked all Russian aircraft from their borders, Moscow retaliated in kind, banning any flights over its territory. The “sky countries” were brought crashing down by events on the ground.

One of the companies most directly affected was Finnair, which had staked a big slate of its business on Finland’s proximity, via Russia, to Asia. One Saturday evening in late February 2022, Päivyt Tallqvist, the company’s senior vice-president of communications, heard that the EU was planning to close its airspace to Russian planes. “We knew that Russia would retaliate,” she tells Monocle. Finnair immediately cancelled flights that were due to depart the following day. “We didn’t want to be in a situation where we would send customers, crew and aircraft to an airspace that might close at any moment.”

The airline’s route-planning and operations teams set to work on getting its Asian service back up and running, with Tokyo and Seoul as its first priorities. The Russian disruption was so huge that planners could no longer rely on software alone. Finnair scrambled to dust off a route that was a stalwart during the Cold War. The polar transverse, with fuelling stops in places such as Anchorage, was common when the skies over the Soviet Union were largely off limits to Western aircraft (save for direct flights to Moscow). Finnair was a pioneer in this respect; in 1983 it began offering the first non-stop flights from Europe to Tokyo, with special planes carrying extra fuel tanks.

In the late 1980s, in the wake of glasnost, the USSR started reopening its skies and the polar route became less common. But now that it was essential again, planning was required, says Finnair’s vice-president of network management, Perttu Jolma. Diversionary airports in northern Japan or Canada had to be examined, for instance, to ensure that they could accommodate an Airbus a350. Planes’ extended-range twin-engine operational performance standards (ETOPS) were tweaked to boost the time that they could fly on one engine, allowing them to reach airports that were further away. Polar survival kits had to be added to aircraft.

But the polar route doesn’t always make the most sense. Given the favourable tailwinds running west to east, says Jolma, Finnair also takes a southern route, more or less equidistant to the polar route, to destinations such as Tokyo. For example, Finnair AY73 from Helsinki to Narita flies due south from the Finnish capital, hooking a left near Kosice, Slovakia, skirting Ukraine, passing over the Black Sea, then beelining through Central Asia – over countries deemed safe but where conflicts are not unknown. Returning flights tend to take the polar route but nothing is guaranteed. Even space weather events, such as a burst of radiation, can influence whether a plane will fly the polar route. “It affects the aircraft equipment, which can limit how far north you fly,” says Jolma.

Finnair’s Asia flights, like those of every European airline, now take more time, burn more fuel and require more crew than in recent years. There are other ripple effects too. Previously, says Jolma, Finnair could fly from Helsinki to Tokyo and back in a day. But because of today’s longer journeys, if the plane were to turn back straight after reaching its destination, it would arrive in Helsinki at an inconvenient hour for onward connections. So it now spends more time on the ground in Japan. As a result of such constraints, a number of routes, such as Beijing and Sapporo, no longer make sense financially or logistically.

Of course, it isn’t just Finnair that has had to contend with the closure of Russian airspace. A 2024 paper in the Journal of Air Transport Management estimates that the Russian and Ukrainian airspace closures resulted in some 6 per cent of global flights being hit with a cost increase of 13 per cent. And while the Russian closure is the largest impediment to global air travel, it is by no means the only patch of sky that has been affected by geopolitics on the ground.

Whether it’s legal to fly over an area is one question; whether it’s safe to do so is another. This was brought into tragic relief in 2014 by the downing of Malaysian Air flight 17 (MH17) over eastern Ukraine by Russian-backed separatists using a BUK surface-to-air missile system. “That was the moment when a lot of operations changed,” Eric Shouten, a former Dutch intelligence officer and the CEO of security consultants Dynami, tells Monocle. “MH17 opened the eyes of many countries and airlines and made them reconsider flying over a conflict zone. Before that, it was still normal to fly high and dry over it – you could look down and see the impacts but you were never the target.” The emergence of Man-Portable Air Defence Systems (MANPADS) meant that even non-state actors could down civilian aircraft.

Mark Zee is a former pilot who now runs Opsgroup, a membership-based organisation for “people at the pointy end of international flight operations”, whose founding was inspired by the downing of MH17. “After that incident, it became clear that a handful of airlines had been avoiding Ukraine,” he says. “The question was, if these people knew about the risk in Ukraine, why didn’t everybody know?” The answer, he says, is that there was no easy way to share the information; nor, he says, is there a single global authority making the call on whether it is permissible or even advisable to fly in a certain airspace.

“There isn’t a clear edict to say that this is the responsibility of the ICAO [the International Civil Aviation Organisation], the IATA [the International Air Transport Association] or a national government,” says Zee. “It’s complex and there isn’t a great precedent for it.” One country might deem another to be off-limits, while another might regularly use it to route flights.

So he set out to create a one-stop clearinghouse for information, drawing on a network of people in aviation and government, as well as official “Notams” (notice to air missions) and “SFARS” (special federal aviation regulations). The group’s Conflict Zone and Risk Database is a colour-coded map of the world’s hot spots, grouped into three levels of risk. Among the countries that are currently coded red (“Do not fly”) are Sudan, where a militia shot down a foreign-registered cargo aircraft in October, and Yemen, which “remains an active conflict zone” and “should be avoided”.

The map is constantly changing, says Zee. Events such as the recent series of Iranian missile attacks on Israel and the subsequent retaliation change the state of play. “Now we’re in a very topical conversation about what airspace risk looks like. What does it mean for civilian aircraft to fly close to war zones? How far away is far enough?”

Three trailblazing photography dealers in LA, Hong Kong and Amsterdam

Gallery 01
The West Coast pioneer
Webber 939, Los Angeles

After more than 20 years of running photographic and creative agency Webber Represents, as well as a London gallery, Chantal Webber (pictured) moved to Los Angeles in 2019, just as the city’s art scene was luring galleries from across the world. “The creative energy reminds me of New York in the 1990s,” she says from her east-side space. “But for a city steeped in photographic history, there aren’t many photo-led galleries.”

Webber’s gallery, which opened in 2023, has made its mark by spotlighting future greats such as Daniel Shea and dusting off long-unseen works including those by feminist photo legend Tee A Corinne. Performance, film and ephemera are often integrated into shows and the gallery also has a public reading library, lined with photography books.

Enticing some LA collectors out to the grittier east side and asking them to take the leap into buying photography is a “work in progress”, says Webber. “It’s important for us to take risks with what we show. For a younger, contemporary collector, we’re at the right price point.”
webberrepresents.com

Gallery 02
The local hero
Blue Lotus Gallery, Hong Kong

In 2007 ship-broker Sarah Greene opened Blue Lotus Gallery in an industrial building in Hong Kong. It was a side project: Greene, who hails from Belgium, tells monocle that she was more interested in creating a space where emerging artists could showcase their work than in “sales or making money”. In 2012, she narrowed the gallery’s scope to photography – especially work that took Hong Kong’s identity as its theme. “I’m happy that I found a special corner focusing on photography and crafting a unique programme,” says Greene. “A lot of the artists who we represent will be very difficult to find elsewhere.”

Blue Lotus now occupies a street-level shopfront in Sheung Wan. Its roster includes the late street photographer Fan Ho and Hong Kong-based French artist Romain Jacquet-Lagreze. Greene is now expanding her remit across Asia, where young photographers often struggle to find galleries that will champion their work. Blue Lotus was an early exhibitor of Japan’s Yasuhiro Ogawa and Greene is excited to build a list of the best practitioners from across Asia. “There’s still a lot of talent that needs to be shown.”
bluelotus-gallery.com

Gallery 03
The talent spotters
Homecoming, Amsterdam

Founders Nadine van Asbeck and Karlijn Bozon (pictured, on right, with Van Asbeck) describe Homecoming Gallery as “a space to discover rising stars in photography, ahead of the curve”. And now, having previously popped up in spaces around the world and online over the past four years, their gallery has a permanent home.

When monocle visits the central Amsterdam space, there are works on show by US artist Mia Weiner, who makes hand-weavings based on intimate photos. Kunstmuseum Den Haag modern art gallery has already snapped one up. In the back room, we find vibrant abstract prints by Dutch-German photographer Johnny Mae Hauser.

The aim of Van Asbeck and Bozon, who met while working in fashion, is to present photography-focused work that doesn’t usually make it into traditional galleries. “We started this space because we felt that a lot of galleries were very focused on the same art schools,” says Bozon. “A whole generation of artists was being overlooked.”

The duo are particularly focused on promoting female artists and hope to appeal to new audiences. “We wanted to show a little bit more of the person behind the art,” says Bozon. “We are drawn to work that ignites something in you. There needs to be a personal bond.”
homecoming.gallery

Art collecting in an age of artificial intelligence

Photographers can use AI to enhance their creativity rather than eliminate it but new perspectives are needed to assess the art form in the digital age, writes Nina Roehrs.

Photographers have always adapted to new technologies, whether that’s picking up digital cameras or the use of artificial intelligence (AI). Some argue that AI goes further than previous advances, reducing the need for human input in a way that threatens the essence of photography itself. Others believe it simply shifts the photographer’s role from image-taker to image-maker, blurring the lines between creation and curation.

There are many ways to create a work of art, with varying degrees of assistance from others, including machines and algorithms. The true test, however, lies in demonstrating the uniqueness of one’s ideas, style and originality, and finding the delicate balance between concept and visual expression. Take Albertine Meunier’s HyperChips. The series has a distinctive visual language and humorously illustrates an ever-shifting AI output despite using the same prompt: “Albertine Meunier is eating sausages and chips.”

When we look at AI art, we should be asking ourselves the following questions. Does AI serve as an assistant or a creator? How much human touch has been retained? Has the interplay between man and machine led to exceptional results? Inevitably, assessing quality in this digital context requires a nuanced understanding of the technologies involved, which will demand new skills and perspectives from curators, collectors, critics and viewers alike.

AI in photography represents both continuity and change. And those who are highly skilled in navigating and exploiting these technologies have a distinct advantage. AI might not represent as radical a departure as it first appears – at least not for artists who know how to leave a lasting impression.

Roehrs is a specialist in art in the digital age and the curator of the Digital Sector at Paris Photo.

A striking new restaurant in Aspen and Lisbon’s museum revival

Renovation: Lisbon
Open arms

Following a eight-year hiatus, Lisbon’s Museu do Design (MUDE) has finally reopened. The update has created space for a new long-term exhibition that displays more than 500 design and fashion pieces by Portuguese and international creatives. The renovation work, led by Bárbara Coutinho, director of MUDE, and Luis Miguel Saraiva, architect of the Lisbon City Council, focused on stabilising the eight-storey, 18th-century edifice. Critical anti-seismic reinforcements have allowed for existing materials such as brick, concrete and stone to be left exposed in a nod to the various renovation works that have taken place during the building’s 300-year history. The revitalised exhibition galleries occupy four floors and have no partitions, creating open spaces that can adapt to suit the needs of temporary shows.

Perhaps the most significant change, however, is that this former headquarters of Banco Nacional Ultramarino (a financial institution with ties to Portugal’s 20th-century national dictatorship) is now fully open to the public for the first time in its history. Previously hidden spaces and floors – including a dedicated design library, which has been expanded over the past 10 years and is furnished with Portuguese-made wooden furniture – now welcome alfacinhas (people from Lisbon) and foreign visitors alike. “In the past the building was a closed, hierarchical and segregated space,” says Coutinho. “Now it has been transformed into an open, democratic and participative place.”
mude.pt

Interiors: USA
Holding sway

Looking for an unexpected spot for dinner before your après-ski moment? The US resort town of Aspen might just have the answer, in the form of a new Thai-fusion restaurant. The blend of influences, however, is more in the design of the space than its cuisine (which is straight-up modern Thai). Sway Aspen’s inviting interiors are the handiwork of the Texas-based Michael Hsu Office of Architecture (MHOA), which previously worked on Sway’s flagship restaurant in the state capital, Austin. The design takes its cues both from Thailand’s decorative traditions and from the aesthetics of the Rocky mountains, with plenty of teak fittings, gentle lighting and plush banquettes. It’s an ideal setting to sample the restaurant’s dinner and après menus, not to mention its fantastic cocktails.

The interiors use warm materials and tones: think brass details, leather seats, clay plaster and lamps made from Thai mulberry paper. “It’s a carefully designed space but not too precious,” says MHOA founder Michael Hsu. “It’s intimate and the type of place you want to gather and relax with friends for a great meal after a day on the slopes.” Come winter, we’re sure that this new addition to Aspen will sway many.
aspen.swaythai.com; hsuoffice.com