The shadow of giants

The 1950s to 1980s offered design exceptional conditions that contemporary designers will probably never find again. This period corresponded to the explosion of the Western middle class, eager for modernity and novelty. Designers of the time were creating for a society in the throes of transformation, where innovation was synonymous with hope and progress. Take the emblematic example of Arne Jacobsen’s Ant chair, created in 1952 for Fritz Hansen. This revolutionary piece exploited the new possibilities of molded plywood, responding to a need for economical, functional furniture for new lifestyles. The context was ideal: an innovative technique, a growing market, and a society ready to embrace modernity.

Today, a young designer has to deal with a saturated market, where every technical innovation has already been explored, where every shape seems to have been designed. Their challenge is no longer to invent modern furniture, but to reinvent it in a world that has seen it all before and, frightened by the prospects of the future, seeks its bearings in the nostalgic refuge of the past. The contemporary design industry has an ambivalent relationship with this glorious past. On the one hand, it constantly celebrates the iconic creations of past decades through reissues, exhibitions and art books. On the other, this constant celebration creates a saturation effect that eclipses contemporary creations.

Designers in the 50s and 80s benefited from a constant revolution in materials. The advent of plastics, evolving molding techniques and new metal alloys opened up unprecedented creative possibilities. Every technical innovation made it possible to create previously impossible shapes. Joe Colombo exploited the properties of ABS plastic to create his futuristic lighting fixtures. Verner Panton shook up color with the new possibilities of synthetic materials. These designers were riding a wave of technical innovation that made every creation potentially revolutionary. Today, young designers work in a context of more subtle innovations. They are focusing on sustainability, recyclability and bio-sourced materials – essential concerns, but less visually spectacular. Their innovations, while crucial for the future, generate less immediate enthusiasm than the formal revolutions of the past, in a context where consumer habits have radically evolved since the golden age of design.

The generation of the 50s and 80s bought furniture for life, justifying investment in quality pieces. This approach favored the emergence of iconic creations, destined to last through the decades. Today, the acceleration of fashion cycles and economic insecurity are leading to more volatile consumption. Younger generations change their homes more often, adapt their furniture to tighter budgets, and sometimes favor flexibility over durability. This context is not conducive to investing in expensive contemporary designer pieces. In the hotel and service sectors, the share of the budget dedicated to the acquisition of more expensive “pieces” or image products is mostly allocated to iconic and statutory standards. Here again, there is little risk-taking, and a desire to show furniture that will be more easily identified by the public.

Paradoxically, the digital age, which should be facilitating the emergence of new talent, is creating new obstacles. Social networks and design platforms multiply the number of visible designers, but also dilute attention. A young designer must now compete not only with his contemporaries, but also with the perpetual republishing of classics from the past. On Instagram, posts featuring vintage pieces collect likes, while contemporary creations struggle to generate the same buzz. This overexposure of the past creates a form of permanent nostalgia that distorts the perception of quality. The public unconsciously associates “old” with “better”, establishing an aesthetic hierarchy that is difficult for new designers to overturn.

At the same time, the contemporary design market operates according to economic mechanisms that favor established values. Collectors and institutions prefer to invest in pieces whose value has stabilized, rather than betting on emerging talent. This financial logic has a direct influence on the visibility of designers. Meanwhile, a contemporary creation of equivalent quality struggles to justify a price of a few thousand euros. This economic distortion has repercussions on the general perception: the high price becomes a validation of artistic quality. Design galleries reinforce this trend by favoring “blue chips” for their exhibitions and sales.

How do you create something truly original when everything seems to have been done before? This is the daily challenge faced by contemporary designers. They have to invent in a world of shapes already widely explored, where every curve, every angle, every proportion recalls a previous creation. The visual saturation of our times makes it more difficult to create new icons. This situation pushes some designers towards extreme experimentation or concept, at the risk of losing functionality. Others choose the path of technical sophistication and exceptional craftsmanship, creating pieces that are remarkable but perhaps less iconic than their illustrious predecessors. Young contemporary designers are also evolving in a different aesthetic context. Where their predecessors imposed clear-cut visions – Scandinavian minimalism, the exuberance of Italian design, British experimentation – today’s designers navigate a globalized world of multiple references. This cultural richness, while enriching, complicates the creation of a strong, instantly recognizable identity. Many contemporary designers have developed a subtle, poetic creative language, but this very subtlety makes it more difficult to create striking icons.

Time remains the indispensable ally of recognition. Pieces that seem anecdotal today could become tomorrow’s icons. The history of design teaches us that posterity cannot be decreed: it is built patiently, creation after creation. The shadow of design giants is perhaps not a curse, but a necessary passage. Each era must invent its own aesthetic codes, respond to its own specific challenges, and create its own legends. Today, young contemporary designers are writing the pages that future generations will perhaps see as a new golden age of design.