Gaetano Pesce: Creativity is an offering

Meeting Gaetano Pesce seemed simpler than I had imagined. One night, my friends Chris Lacson and Rashmi Tolentino-Singh called me up, asking if I wanted to do a one-on-one interview with Gaetano Pesce.

On the day itself, by the time Pesce had gone into the room for the interview, he appeared unperturbed and cordial, making himself available and thus paving the way for a generally relaxed atmosphere. To break the ice, he asked us who we were, then initiated the conversation. 

To a layman, Manuality and Industrial Production might sound banal and technical, but in reality it is not. The irony about Pesce is that his work, which exudes a highly individualistic charisma, is universal in context – he seeks to reach out to just about everyone. In an interview with Hans Ulrich Obrist in the August 2005 issue of Domus, he says, "I think it is very moralistic when one says that culture is not a question of money. I believe that any product – cultural or otherwise – has to do with economic values. So it is right for us to consume these products. I don’t agree with the intellectuals who say that consumer culture is negative or superficial. Quite the opposite; it enables us to learn! If we ‘consume’ a journey, we can get to know the place. ‘Consuming’ a piece of music gives us knowledge of a composer. The same applies to a book and even salame (sausages)."

It’s clear that Pesce views creativity, not as something exclusive, but as an offering to others. This humane view sees creativity as a conduit to life.

Manuality and Industrial Production speaks of an aspect inherent in Philippine design that has to do with the ability of our hands to create wonders. Manuality, in Industrial Production, allows manmade objects to have surface imperfections absent in machine-made products. 

Gaetano Pesce’s works in general can be seen to be highly theatrical, sumptuous, and colorful. Clever and even poetic, they are largely art-depicting functions that affect our senses and emotions. They are not for everyone, as aesthetics is always subjective, but the whole value of his work rests on the fact that it is deeply rooted in life’s energies. His objects elicit not only conversation but also emotion.

What I learned from Pesce is that almost anyone creative can free himself from limitations of rigor, uniformity, and conformity. Today, my impression of Philippine design (which I’ve articulated in past events) is it seems to have two cyclical processes: first is the creative disposition and manipulation of the material, resulting in its design, and the other, attaining closure by making a workable object from it. It is in this second process that the designs start to lose out, because in many cases, they seem to be forcibly merged into recognizable shapes that do not do justice to the first process that created it. It becomes almost anti-climactic and gratuitous. The process of Pesce’s design can be a good way to show what a relationship can be like when you are able to complete the whole object cycle from its initial process – that is, the initial process concludes both its form and overall result. We are not even talking of absolute perfection here, because as Pesce puts it, the level of imperfection can prove to be its own charm, considering that it is handmade, which also elicits an individual identity for each object.

Globalization is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it has opened doors for ideas to flourish, created parallel opportunities for economies to prosper, and above all, removed barriers that once stood as intervening blocks for immediate intra-relationships. Once communication became fluid through technology, the world became almost central, making it easy to reach anyone at any point, even from a long distance. Conversely, if one were to consider the other facet of globalization, we have removed the mysticism that once veiled neighboring borders. These days, when you move from one major city to another, the common city infrastructure landscapes are almost synonymous. It is as if you never really left one place for another. It is in this context that a new order of Manuality can become useful. 

Pesce reinforces this notion, when raising a point that "there are many creative people today but that industry is sleeping and has lost the sense of curiosity. In the absence of an absolute ground to implicate such an observation, I can only offer an oblique view to infer globalization as being a culprit. But I do think that in the vastness of a common language, what seemed mystical about the existence of regional cultures has been marginalized in lieu of ‘territorial extensions.’"

Today, products are produced cheaply and consumed rapidly, at times at the expense of curiosity, innovation and even originality. Worse, it has spawned the proliferation of copies, engendering a new face of market warfare. The new shifts have also seen the rise of emerging players, with production methods that combine high technology and cheaper labor. Within this widespread phenomenon, we have to create a strategy that can harness Philippine creativity despite our lack of high technology.

Pesce defined design even more deeply. He sees it as "truly complete and a complex expression that goes beyond the realm of function." In a light that he calls "O Sole Mio," its movement pattern is as important as the light it gives. It reflects on the merits of the sun as the world’s main light source, while in tracking its movement, he alludes to the varying degrees of light portrayed through time shifts. In two versions, one sees the sun revolving circularly as a clocking device, and the other on a horizontal line, articulating the 12-hour spread between day and night. It becomes a learning device, a toy, a timer, and a light source. 

In a chair series he calls "Delila," he makes a political statement about the use of plastics. Through its malleable character, he is able to fend off any conclusive forms of uniformity. He allows a trace of its process to dictate upon its form, its irregularity defining its individuality. Further, he extends the chunkiness of its form, subverting softness, a quality often associated with upholstered objects. In his works, the verve of the locale he lives in is very evident, and becomes an interesting cultural gesture. It leaves the imprint of a place and resurrects the mysticism lost amid the language of globalization. Repeated references to the human body and nature are suggestive of Pesce’s strong passion about life in general, and owing to his Italian roots, there is an inherent affinity with art that just comes naturally.

In 1997, The New Office Book of Francis Duffy provided a revolutionary insight into how offices of the future would be set up after the advent of new technologies, a shift in work order and the emergence of new office cultures. It explored new ways of working in an office anchored on time shifts, information technology, space over time, and changing office furniture systems. There were 20 case studies and one that stood out was the Pesce-designed Chiat-Day Ad Agency in New York City. In his design, we see a fluid reflection of the freeform activities set in the office, magnified by boisterous colors that point to the collaborative intensity between the place and the people who work in it. It depicts the synergy of New York City, injecting vitality into a bland 1980s slab located in the Wall Street area. Pesce unifies the hyper-drama of the external cityscape with what could otherwise be a sleek office, providing a link between the two. In doing so, the usual formal office setting is dissolved into a café, a street walk, or a clubhouse open to endless creative encounters. 

Pesce’s proposal for the Twin Towers re-building is a heart connecting two towers. He offers a rather banal rendition of "I Love NY," but in a larger sense, he sees using this very familiar symbol as a response to violence, rather than moving in an equally aggressive and retaliatory manner. For all that his idea would eventually stand for, he is not ashamed of using an everyday material to carry a deep message of peace.

The Chamber of Furniture Industries of the Philippines sees an opportunity for Philippine design to prosper under a five-year program billed "Manila Now," which started last year with Karim Rashid’s visit. Next year, it will be Ross Lovegrove, and so on. The rationale, to nurture Philippine sensibilities with open sessions dedicated to collaborative exchanges, is a timely shot in the arm since in recent years, the Philippines has become part of the globalized community. While the overall perception is that we are Third World, there is likewise a strong indication that our resiliency is due to Filipino creativity. We are increasingly exposed to global influences, with more Filipinos able to leave and return from other lands. Our products are used anonymously all over the world, and bringing in individuals such as Rashid and Pesce could inspire creativity to produce products that develop into their own brands. 

Recently, we heard about a Filipino designer coming out in Time magazine, just as some other designers are appearing in high-fashion magazines like Vogue. Filipino films are earning respectable reviews abroad. Next year, a TV show might be aired showing unique homes from the Philippines. Indeed, the world has become larger and it can become a hot field for activities to happen. The CFIP must not only be commended for putting their heart and money into establishing a "founding forum" aimed at nourishing and feeding Philippine creativity. They must also be cited for acting in oneness, a collaborative endeavor of many minds rolled into one.

The Pesce experience certainly strengthened my willpower to stay with what I believed in. He has the ability to impart a strong sense of confidence to those around him. Pesce said he’ll be back, completing his travels here. As for me, I will surely tuck this experience under my pillow – the night Chris Lacson and Rashmi Tolentino-Singh called me up for a one-on-one interview with Gaetano Pesce.