These Three Studios are Redefining Cool Outdoor Furniture for a New Generation | Sight Unseen
Photo courtesy of Peca Estudio
“For Moretti, who often creates pieces made specifically for outdoor use — like the tables, firepits, and totems all made from a matte volcanic stone, or her Páramo tiles made from black clay — the draw to the outdoors was second nature. “Nature informs how we design, and from these lessons, we create furniture that can exist organically in natural surroundings,” she shares.”
There’s a series of Slim Aarons photographs I’m thinking about. You know the ones: poolside glam, Mad Men energy at full blast, coiffed blondes, men in sports jackets, and some very à propos white wire furniture accented with lemony upholstery, befitting of its Palm Springs setting. The photos capture an idyll of one of mid-century California’s primary selling points: the indoor-outdoor fantasy made possible by all that sunshine.
When I think of outdoor furniture, I tend to picture this kind of setting: pastel metal motel chairs on a well-manicured lawn, or Gae Aulenti’s curvilinear Locus Solus collection, seared into my mind’s eye thanks to a starring role in the spicy 1969 film, La Piscine. Either that, or Victorian-era English gardens with their armor-like tables and benches a-flutter in frozen iron floral motifs. Nothing in between. But, of course, the history of outdoor furniture dates way, way back — like, antiquity back. This summer, I traveled to Italy for the first time, which brought me to the arena floor of the Colosseum. There, our guide pointed to a section of clumsily restored white marble slab seating; the stone would have kept cool the be-robed bums of ancient audience members. In the ruins of Pompeii, archeological evidence suggests inhabitants lived with outdoor furniture. Wealthy ancient Egyptians may have constructed seating for their gardens and courtyards using reeds from the Nile River.
Until the middle of last century, most outdoor furniture was serving Period Piece, “with stamped-out metal, bunches of flowers and leaves,” as the late designer Richard Schultz wrote in an essay reprinted in his 2019 book, Form Follows Technique: A Design Manifesto. Schultz’s metal and mesh 1966 Collection for Knoll (made from a custom woven vinyl-coated polyester yarn primarily used in women’s shoe design) was a decidedly streamlined, crisp departure from this florid tradition. Some 60 years later, the collection is still in production. The now-shuttered Standard Hotel in LA once crowned its pool with a pretty litter of Schultz’s chaise longues.