[Article] CUT OUT May 2012

While the term innovation has become rather ubiquitous in the design world over recent years, the notion of crafts is quietly experiencing its own rise in various countries around the world. Although some perceptions persist (i.e. crafts as outdated and perhaps conservative), the discipline is now brought to the limelight by a number of individuals and companies that believe in its values and potential to actually innovate.

In Japan, everyday life goods company Muji, recently launched Found MUJI, a part gallery part retail space based on a revolutionary concept. The store sells its own products alongside crafted objects sourced from different parts of the world, such as hand needlework from India, handmade paper from Thailand, and coconut leaf brooms from the Philippines. The underlying philosophy focuses on the importance of preserving traditional practices that are struggling to survive while giving them a new purpose in the context of modern life. It is also for many of us a reminder that crafted objects are first and foremost synonymous with quality and uniqueness, two assets that have unfortunately become scarce in the context of mass manufacturing.

This is one inspiring example of design innovation through crafts, one that is situated at the intersection of culturally creative practices and new advances in product development, and which serves a new model for global competitiveness. Muji’s creative director Kenya Hara believes that culture will soon become the most competitive asset in the world economy. As the world becomes more globalised, consumers will seek distinctive products imbued with local meaning. “The competitive performance of cultures supported by locality makes the world richer. It is a competition to create products or ideas that are based in one’s own culture or market but can inspire other markets.” (Kenya Hara, Designing Design, Muji – Nothing Yet Everything, p289, Lars Muller Publishers, Switzerland, 2007) This way of thinking has built Japan’s credibility over centuries and its many layers will surely help sustain it in the future.

Having just returned from a cultural journey across Northern Thailand and Laos, I cannot help but wonder if a similar mindset can be embedded in Southeast Asian countries.

In Thailand, there is no shortage of craftsmanship but a need for research and development, as well as a better integration of design methodologies in the value chain to move away from the simple “making and selling” structure that often hinders the flourishing of creativity. In Laos, the level of craftsmanship is astonishing and thus the products of incredible quality and relevance. And yet, the wave of imported goods from China and Thailand are threatening the irreplaceable wealth of culture that exists there, and some irreparable damage has already been done. For instance, many complex weaving techniques that characterize Laotian textiles have been simplified in order to produce and sell faster. With a large rural population working on farms and depending on crafts as an extra source of income, the monetization of their skills is hugely important and yet it has also worked to the detriment of intrinsic cultural values. Through financial struggles, artisans had to change their ways of working, and meanwhile their children chose new career paths.

Reversing the existing tendency is not an easy task. However, smart design interventions can add value while ensuring the preservation of local skills, and boost the creation of a new market potential. Therefore, more bridges have to be built between designers and craft communities to increase dialogue, learning, and opportunities in the future.

Sustaining local traditional skills is about survival. On the one hand, they shape local cultural identity and on the other they enable principles of sustainability and community-based structures, embodying ethical practices that need support in our fast-paced globalised world. The innovation here is not only economic, but also social, cultural, and environmental. I see this as the tip of something very crucial not only at a local level, but for the future of our world as a whole.

The main challenges for crafts in Southeast Asia:

  • Encouraging young designers to learn about traditional crafts in relationship to contemporary design education;
  • Transitioning from old to new in a successful way;
  • New ideas and new designs that appeal on a global market;
  • Focusing on quality rather than quantity;
  • Changing perceptions and adapting ways of working;
  • Creating a value chain that leads to the development of culturally meaningful products.

The conversation and debate will continue in October 2012, at the ICOGRADA International Design Week in Sarawak where many experts on traditional crafts and design will gather and speak on related topics such as creative industries, cultural conservation, indigenous design, and more.

sarawak.icograda.org

Photo: Weaver in Ban Xang Khong, Luang Prabang, Laos – Sali Sasaki © 2012

No Comments

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.

[samenai haru no yume] SPRING

© Sali Sasaki 2013

[Necoco] Organic hair oil by Moltobene

The second product in the Necoco series, this is a collaboration with my cousin who works for Japanese haircare brand Moltobene. Now available at LOFT stores in Japan nationwide.

[CRAFTED] Recent picks from Indonesia and Thailand

[Article] The Design Society Journal No. 6

“The thing when you’re in Singapore is that it’s hard to distinguish a visitor from a local.” A friend of mine was visiting the other week and that was an observation she casually pointed out as we made our way through the crowds inside the MRT station. I then carefully looked at each and every other face passing by. Nothing surprising except perhaps, in my view, the strange level of homogeneity working paradoxically against the multicultural society that is Singapore.

Since my own relocation from Paris to Singapore 2 months ago, many people have mistaken me for a long-term resident, or even a Singaporean, which left me quite perplexed. Of course, the fact that I am Asian can lead to some confusion, however, in a different instance, in Japan, a Japanese person would rarely make such a mistake. In Korea, people immediately identify me as a Japanese person before I even open my mouth. So why this confusion in Singapore? Could it mean that a Singaporean identity cannot really be defined? Or that Singaporeans themselves do not have a real idea about their own identity? Ultimately, I would like to know if there is such a thing as being quintessentially Singaporean, and whether that can be captured in one word or one sentence. Perhaps just being here means that I belong here like million others who come from all corners of the world.

Watching people in Singapore makes me imagine all the different individual stories of where they came from, why they are here, and where they are going next. I feel that it is similar to sitting in an airport terminal where fragments of lives cross-over one hour after another. There is no sense of permanence in this city. I feel that everything comes and goes, whether they are people or places. Buildings are torn to leave space for new ones; people arrive, settle for a few years, then pack up and leave without a trace.

I took this picture near Teck Lim Road, on an ordinarily hot and humid afternoon. Before I took the photo, I stood by to look at the scene, and I could not tell if it was just rubbish to be collected the following morning. It seemed too carefully arranged to be rubbish, but the chairs were not in a condition to be used either. Was it some sort of deliberate installation to trigger people’s imagination? In any case, it was intriguing and unexpected in a city that controls its environment obsessively. The chairs were each completely different, but I could imagine people sitting on them. Different people, with different faces, and different backgrounds. People who speak different languages, eat different foods. Have different faiths and beliefs, different jobs, and different dreams for the future. To me, this picture reflects the way I currently see Singapore: an accidental mix and match of people who have to share the same space and somehow become part of a narrative written by the city. Singapore is a place, which seems to be chasing its own identity yet simultaneously, it has already defined itself as a global product, guided by the common patterns of economic development and international trade.

This article was originally published in The Design Society Journal No. 6, Representation.

[CRAFTED] Wisnu Open Space and Kopi Kultur | Bali, Indonesia

I was invited to Wisnu Open Space in March to talk about craft, design, and the importance of local assets in a fast moving world. The response from the audience was warm and inspired. It made me realise how many of us are thinking similarly despite our differences, and it gave me confidence about our ability to build toward our common future.

“If you do not have the opportunity to travel, how can you still travel? This question was asked by one of my hosts Eko. And I have been thinking about it for a while. Now, after some time, my response to this question is “take a different road and something new will reveal itself.” We should never underestimate the journeys that lie in proximity, the ones that have been ignored for too long, and have yet to be discovered near our doorstep. I believe that there are many of those journeys embedded in everyday life, complementing those that are formed within our minds.

[VisualDiary] そら ー 空 ー SORA

Savouring the feeling of being lost.

[Work in Progress] CHATEAU SCHOOL Home Study Kit

[VisualDiary] Gong Xi Fa Cai

The Lunar New Year took me to the streets of Chinatown in Singapore.

[CRAFTED] The Clay House, Melaka, Malaysia

[Work in Progress]

[VisualDiary] Paris

Return to the city of my childhood, the city that never changes. It was all familiar except for the snow. This past week was about getting back into ordinary yet joyful habits like walking from a favourite bookshop to a favourite café, through the Tuileries gardens, across place Vendôme to end up at a favourite bakery… Or picking up new sketchbooks with the hope that this new year will give me enough inspiration and imagination to fill them in…

[CRAFTED] in Malaysia

[2013]

暑い冬に種をまき (atsui fuyu ni tane wo maki*)
* sowing seeds during a warm winter

© Sali Sasaki 2013

[VisualDiary] Melaka

A mosque and a temple side by side on Jonker Street in Melaka, Malaysia.