What do Pixar models, "The Sims," architecture, interactive robots, video games, grids of blue light, viral advertising, fashion and an organ cooler have in common?
They all have a place in the Boston Institute for Contemporary Art's new design show, a manifesto in big block letters: "Design Life Now." The exhibition, a meandering path that snakes between newly-built walls, packs a punch in the form of DIY-design as well as slickly-produced commercial products. It is an explosion of color and an intelligent collection of functional art created to enhance our lives.
For those not familiar with the term, "industrial design" refers collectively to "applied arts," everything from furniture making to the irresistibly sleek shapes of iPods and ubiquitous MacBooks seen around campus. It's everywhere: the chairs that recline in at the dining halls, even the desks in our dorms. Where "Design Life Now" succeeds is in its exposé of just how omnipresent design is in everyday life. It confronts viewers with the fact that art really is everywhere, and at its best the show demonstrates that, far from being merely a pleasant distraction, art is both useful and necessary.
The show's layout, like its art, challenges convention and puts the viewer in place to physically use and engage with each piece. As one enters the exhibition, the space becomes layer upon layer of walls.
Only when one chooses aside passages does the art become apparent: it is installed within the walls. These curatorial choices make the show that much more exciting and interesting. Each piece has its own space, a kind of private viewing window that makes intimate inspection both possible and necessary.
Another conception that "Design Life Now" challenges is that industrial design is more aesthetic than functional. One installation in particular drives this point home. Deborah Adler, in conjunction with Target, designed a new layout for their prescription medicine bottles. Presented together, the difference is night and day. Adler's labels are both remarkable in both their clarity of information and their colorful, large-font layouts.
Industrial design is not a luxury, either. At times, it is born of necessity, as in the case of Christopher Douglas. Not originally a designer, among his many moves between New York City apartments, he found a need for easily removable furniture. Thus, the "Knock-down/Drag-out Table" was born. The table, as elegant as anyone could hope for with minimalist two-dimensional shapes, is actually made from three elements that form the full table.
Art, as well as design, is never without sly humor. "Design Life Now" showcases a few pieces that exemplify the smirking, subtle jokes that make a viewer stop and pause. Scott Wilson had by far the most impact in the smallest packaging. His product? A cap for the iPod Mini. Fitting simply onto the pre-existing top of the music player, his add-on turned the iPod into a cross necklace. Its name? iBelieve.
The ICA, as an institution solely focused on contemporary art practice, is a perfect home for such an interdisciplinary show. Far from displaying luxury goods, the latter part of the exhibition is dedicated to feats of architecture: models and pictures from some of the world's greatest architectural luminaries.
Rem Koolhaas, as always, stands out with his mixture of intellectually informed urbanism and deconstruction. Presented here, The Seattle Public Library, with its crystalline facets and angles, retains its avant-garde authority as the years go on.
Housed by Diller, Scofidio and Renfro's incredible work on the ICA building itself, "Design Life Now" plays a ping-pong game with real life. The design work, ever-fresh and ever-applicable, projects into the space of the museum in a give-and-take with its surroundings. The gallery space is tremendously active; there is always the feel of people and things in motion. It is an apt comparison for the dynamism of the show itself. "Design Life Now" shows a vision of what life could be like if art and design were to spread to every corner.
