Design is never neutral. It alters behavior and has life-and-death implications. For Paola Antonelli, senior curator at the MoMA’s department of architecture and design, this fact has been a fixation. She has initiated an impressive share of breakthrough exhibits and events focusing on the way visuals affect the world. Her latest is Design and Violence, an online forum devoted to exploring the darker side of the creative mind, using essays and discussion boards. Given MoMA’s mandate to acquire and exhibit objects of beauty with cultural significance, it’s a somewhat radical move.
Organized by Antonelli and Jamer Hunt, director of the graduate program in transdisciplinary design at Parsons, the site addresses a rather large elephant in the well-designed room. Designers have long been the eyes, hands, hearts and minds behind the most common tools devised—intentionally or not—for violent behavior. Yet rarely has the ethical and moral consequences been addressed in an institution as prestigious as MoMA.
“It is timely, urgent, stemming from obvious considerations about the current state of the world,” wrote Antonelli and Hunt in a co-signed email to me. “That is how contemporary design exhibitions often have been and should be, at least in MoMA tradition: efforts by the curators to harness the Museum’s influence and reach in order to point out urgent issues, present good case studies, propose possible paths through and forward. The focus on this subject also comes from the desire to see design for what it really is: a powerful force for change that needs to be mastered and controlled.”
In Stuart Bayley's latest book, Ugly, he cites the air-cooled machine gun, B-52 bomber, and other "beautiful" objects as tools of violence. It is hard to separate aesthetics from consequence, and it is this relationship—the space between beauty and violence—that is key to the conversation promoted on Design and Violence.
“That humans take care to design intentionally lethal artifacts raises profound ethical and moral questions that we hope this project can address,” the organizers wrote. “But we are equally concerned with the less beautiful, more banal, invisible and insidious ways in which violence is perpetrated by design.”
This includes unintended weapons like the faulty Toyota Land Cruiser and common box cutters, which are objects of design but not obviously beautiful.
“What we will avoid, however, is the aestheticization of violence itself,” Antonelli and Hunt said. “The brilliant and striking artifacts that we include do risk suggesting that violence can take beautiful form. We can acknowledge that beauty while at the same time denouncing the ends to which it aspires.”
The designer’s job is to invent or at least improve on everything from the common to the extraordinary. Antonelli told me in a recent conversation that what “shocked” her into launching this project was the highly publicized ability of the MakerBot 3D Printer to create a working pistol. Her goal is to juxtapose such projects from within design with diverse voices from science, philosophy, literature, music, film, journalism, and politics—to respond to selected design objects with the hope of triggering “critical insights into the insidious ways in which innovation also brings along with it a form of violence.”
One might argue that with Design and Violence designers are being put on notice, “for the simple reason that designers, curators, producers and consumers all need to wrestle with the full measure of design’s impact on our everyday experience. Through stylization, designers sometimes do overtly glamorize violence, but more often it happens through the unwitting—less spectacular—means.”