THE ANTI-HOOPLA

Marc Newson breaks down his work in simple terms

Like the magician who takes a perverse pleasure in showing you exactly where the rabbit is hiding inside the hat, Marc Newson is the first to deflate your media-fuelled vision of what a star designer should be. “My job is about solving problems through design,” he says. Just that – no drama, no irony, no pomp – a bit like a Formula 1 driver who describes what he does as “driving fast”. Anyone who’s expecting a preening star designer with a wardrobe worthy of Willy Wonka or a vocabulary comprising complex polysyllabic jargons will find the 47-year-old a bit of a letdown. Or a refreshing change.

Marc would rather that his designs speak for themselves. And given his body of works, his public should hear diverse languages. He has designed nearly everything: sex toy for Myla, shaker for Ajinomoto, airplane interiors, concept car, champagne coffret, house numbers, timepieces for Ikepod – a company he co-owns – and airport lounges. Is there anything he wouldn’t touch? “I have turned down some projects,” he replies casually, “because I simply don’t have the time.”

In the universe of his creations, one would be hard pressed to see a signature Newson touch – the leitmotif by which his public can identify his work. “I think there is some consistency – the organic, intuitive, old communication and a sense of simplicity, symmetry and use of materials.” A prime example is the hourglass that he designed for Asia’s leading luxury watch retailer The Hour Glass. Crafted from a single piece of 3mm-thick borosilicated glass, the hourglass contains 21 million low carbon, gold-plated .035mm nanoballs – enough to tell an elapsed time of 60 minutes. The piece commissioned to celebrate The Hour Glass’s 30th anniversary is instantly recognisable. “I wanted it to be so,” Marc says. “We put in a lot of effort in design and craftsmanship, working with specialist on uniform sized balls that will not scratch the inside of the glass – and undermine the timepiece’s accuracy – over time.”

Fame came fast and early for Marc, then 23, with his chaise longue – the Lockheed Lounge – a sensuous patchwork of aluminium plates wrapped around a fiberglass body and held together by rivets. But he continuously built a tremendous portfolio and along the way gathered plaudits for truly remarkable designs, select pieces of which have been acquired by leading museums including MoMA and the V&A, and culminated in honours such as this year’s honorary Doctor of Visual Arts degree from the University of Sydney. Ironically, what the public remembers of him most is the dubious honour of setting new auction record for a living designer’s work when a Lockheed prototype fetched US$968,000 in 2006 at a Sotheby’s auction. In 2007, one was sold for US$1.5 million at Christie’s, and in May this year, another was sold at a Philips DePury auction for US$2.1 million. “I don’t understand,” he says resignedly but with a hint of amusement, “that anyone would pay such amount.” Marc reportedly created them, with his own hands, and in limited quantity because that was the only way he could afford to get them produced.

Rather than resist the label, Marc graciously admits that he has indeed become a brand, yet he expresses discomfiture when the media hypes up his persona rather than his work – proof that to him, at least, they are two different things. “Everything is designed nowadays,” he concedes, except things in nature. “Sometimes design is just there in the background; sometimes it is more apparent. But (industrial design) is not like architecture, which is more imposed on the individual in the sense that he can’t do anything about it. In (industrial design), the consumer still wields the power to choose,” he adds.