* DESIGN OF
THE YEAR 2015

With offices in Singapore, Barcelona and Buenos Aires, and projects across the world, the design collective, Outofstock couldn’t be more global. Yet, when it comes to design, its founders Sebastián Alberdi, Wendy Chua, Gustavo Maggio and Gabriel Tan understand that a single solution does not fit all. Indeed, for the designers, accommodating the needs of people of different cultures and diversity of circumstances in which they live will always supercede any preconceived notions of what design is, or should be. This inclusive and respectful approach to design – and the belief that “it is not design that reflects one’s philosophy, but rather the way of living that imbues design with life’s philosophies” – has seen Outofstock’s rapid rise since it was established in 2006 to become an international design collective of considerable repute with clients such as Ligne Roset, Bolia, Environment, Industry+ and Scanteak. Outofstock’s commission to design the centennial exhibition of Sori Yanagi in Singapore left visitors with an indelible mark. Yanagi, after all, championed “anonymous design” and devoted his life to designing utilitarian products and furniture for quotidian living. “That a designer can achieve such success and be humble and self-deprecating – despite the deep influence of his work on other designers – is nothing short of rare lucidity,” the designers say. Interestingly, all four partners of Outofstock are adjunct faculty or visiting lecturers of design schools in Singapore, Spain, Mexico and the United States. And it is through teaching that they have concluded that “design is not a talent, but a sensibility”. These sensibilities, they add, cannot be pushed or incentivised because this would lead to quick, but short-term, success. Instead, Outofstock believes that a design sensibility must be nurtured. “Nurturing sensibilities is a generational process through education. Children are born with curiosity and a sense of wonder. With a little guidance, their creativity will naturally blossom. As an adult, one needs to ‘unlearn’ in order to learn and so it is more difficult – but not impossible – to transform otherwise closed mindsets.

This playful thrust is a thread in the designer’s work. Everyday objects – many rooted in Southeast Asian design – are reimagined with restless imagination and cheerful glee.

“My work is often occupied with the authenticity of the contemporary design artefact being a deliberate gesticulation of material culture,” says Hans, who is also an assistant professor at the National University of Singapore’s Division of Industrial Design.

And so, a tray is made of white nylon springs made from 3D imaging. The patterns on a traditional Peranakan teapot are perforated into individual dots that resemble a magnified Roy Lichtenstein print. A sequence of Singapore’s national lion symbol transforms an ordinary white plastic shopping bag into an eye-catching accessory. Each work provides a fresh perspective and brings a smile to one’s face.

This is not to imply that Hans’s work is without discipline. For all the apparent frivolity of the final product, he takes the task of design seriously, investing his work with impressive fundamentals. Every design is never produced for its own sake. Every finished product can actually be used. As Hans points out: “I see design as a medium, and I make use of its utility as a pretext to explore ideas.”

When asked what, or who, has influenced his design philosophy, his reply is as instructive for neophyte designers as it is remarkably nuanced: “The perceptiveness of Gaston Bachelard’s work on phenomenology; the lightness in Italo Calvino’s conceptual yet narrative approach to writing; and Georges Perec’s sheer wit in describing everyday life.”

In Han’s case, everyday life means the local Singaporean culture. “That’s always been a major influence on my work. I cannot imagine responding to the condition of being Singaporean without being in Singapore.”

This perspective has been hard-earned. His greatest mistakes have occurred when the value or potential of a design, or the complexity of the process is not recognised from the outset. This is a theme that runs through in his work and in his lectures. “The underlying principle of many of the pedagogical methods and strategies I develop are rooted in the idea that creating is ‘deforming the existing’, rather than ‘creating anew’.”

Given this sense of connection between time and place, it’s no surprise that Hans sets the value of the President’s Design Award so firmly within a local context. He is especially appreciative that “it has created a benchmark for design in Singapore, and places a seal of worth on design at a national level”.