«WOULD YOU L IKE TO TALK» Interview to Piero Gandini by Fabrice Paineau Would you like to talk about my background? (…) — I come from quite a funny, let’s just say unusual, family. My mother, with her aristocratic background and an innate sense of elegance, shared nonetheless with my father quite a modern vision of life. She ran a furniture store, filled with ill-assorted objects, including objects by famous designers. As children, my twin sister and I would hide among Le Corbusier designs for instance. You can say I was literally immersed in design! My father, for his part, came from a far humbler background and was a self-made man, quite a charismatic individual, and what’s more creative, naturally, full of an enthusiasm I seem to have inherited. Fortunately or unfortunately. Would you like to talk about my adolescence (…) — As you would expect, like many others, my relationship with my father was sometimes strained. I was a bit of a lousy student coupled with an eternal adolescent, until I turned 25. I was a problem for some time: I would go pub-crawling; I would skive off school months on end, up to 7 months – my record! Of course, I would sign the notes explaining my absence instead of my father. And later, I don’t know how I managed but I skipped the army to end up loafing in university, studying philosophy and history, classes I only very seldom attended. To put it briefly, let’s just say I enjoyed myself, like some teenagers who are bent on enjoying life. Would you like to talk about how I became responsible? (…) — I tried to sign a truce with my father to be able to go abroad for a while. Life elsewhere, to temper my spirits. At the time we had a subsidiary in New York and I could picture myself among the skyscrapers. My father had another nice surprise in store for me: I joined a firm we owned in Northeast Germany, in a remote village. I didn’t speak a word of German. That may have marked the beginning of my redemption and the end of my wild nights! Every morning, I had an 8am meeting at the factory: obviously a certain sense of discipline took hold. I only returned in 1987 when my father suggested it, but I already had in mind to broach the brand differently. I therefore asked my father to give me the use of an empty warehouse next to our offices in Brescia. Would you like to talk about my memories, Castiglioni, Scarpa, Starck? (…) — They would all show up in that warehouse, it was great. To me, they were like tennis champions: can you imagine having a meeting simultaneously with Federer, Nadal, Djokovic…! Castiglioni was a colourful character who would laugh and even shout sometimes. I remember one day he had found one of the mock-ups awful, he wouldn’t stop screaming, gesticulating like a madman on the chair on wheels on which he was seated, practically slaloming in the large office. With Scarpa, things were different: he was strictness incarnate, even inflexible but he did give a lot in his own way. He was capable of focusing intensely. He taught me all the shades of colours. He was both a mentor and a poet. Starck, for his part showed up one day with a beautiful woman, announcing that he loved Flos: just like that, true to himself. A very energetic man who came to show us his Arà lamp, named after his daughter. He wanted an original packaging like always in his generous and democratic approach of design. The relationship Flos has with Philippe Starck is unique. In his own way he has found the link with the origins of the brand, when Achille Castiglioni and his brother created one of the most beautiful lamps in the world with a car headlight and a cable. In a sense, Starck’s collaboration with Flos contributes to refuting the elitism in design which can smother ethics. His Miss Sissi lamp, simple, direct and affordable sums up this adventure. It’s above all a human experience we share. Would you like to talk about the strategy I have adopted (...) — I have always been someone who listened to his guts: a kind of aggressive and creative individual and my hobbyhorse has always been the avant-garde. It’s a disease that runs in the family. I don’t know if I’m creating for a niche of enthusiasts, but all the products have imposed themselves thanks to the heart of those who have designed them. Admittedly, they were some tough times. In 1996, when I became CEO, I wanted to give Flos an international scope. So I had to restructure, sit down every morning at my desk to try to grasp the chances of a new future. I had to make drastic choices I don’t regret, and which today give the company financial reliability. At the time, we still owned Arteluce which my father had taken over in the 70s, a great adventure begun in the 30s when the collections by great designers such as Gino Sarfatti belonged in the catalogue. I then decided in 1998 to concentrate the two companies’ activities under Flos, the innovative potential of Arteluce and Flos feeding and enriching one another.When I discussed this project with Starck and Castiglioni, I thought it might be touchy, but they assured me of their support. The next collaborations with new designers such as Jasper Morrison, Konstantin Grcic, Marc Newson, etc., unfolded naturally in this new state of affairs. Would you like to talk about my convictions (…) — Each time a project is launched, we feel we are about to make the best lamp in the world, that’s it. It’s Flos’s philosophy. With the competitive capacity to reach our goal because I want the idea to prevail, to find its own path. That’s the power of design, the passion instilled in a product, the complete chain of logistical and artistic commitment, from the know-how of the prototypist to the finished object. Everything can be deceptive too when you are facing issues: there lies also the spice of the trade. A seemingly simple product can take up to two years to be conceived and a project that seems complicated may only take eight months! The point being to control the investment capacity. 2 8 2 9 I N S I D E F L O S I N S I D E F L O S
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