Materiality: a manifesto

Pieces with weight, creators and collectors with history, with the kind of imperfect shape that comes from life. Give us materials that matter.

July 31, 2025

Materiality: a manifesto

THE CURRENT MOMENT = has reduced materiality to a checklist. Linen throws, jute rugs, the requisite "texture" that arrives pre-approved. As if the complexity of materials could be solved by three pillows in "oatmeal" and "sage."

DIGITAL SPACES = have trained us to think in images first. Gallery walls of identical frames. Prints that circulate endlessly through the same visual ecosystems. The democracy of taste flattened into algorithmic sameness.

But here's the thing: MATERIALS HAVE MEMORY. Materiality is a process, a combination, a collection of elements or all three.

THAT VENETIAN TERRAZZO = has it. Even the truly tasteless understand this about Venice as we have recently found out.

ANY BRASS DOOR HANDLE = worn smooth by decades of hands? It's been used, darling. Not just photographed.

SOME WOODEN TABLE = scarred by wine glasses and dinner parties and actual life? It's earned its place in ways your pristine marble slab never will.

We're talking about the weight of things. The heft of a proper ceramic vase versus resin from a concept store. The way real linen wrinkles and real leather cracks and real wood expands and contracts with the seasons because it's still, somehow, alive.

THE CURRENT MOMENT = has reduced materiality to a checklist. Linen throws, jute rugs, the requisite "texture" that arrives pre-approved. As if the complexity of materials could be solved by three pillows in "oatmeal" and "sage."

DIGITAL SPACES = have trained us to think in images first. Gallery walls of identical frames. Prints that circulate endlessly through the same visual ecosystems. The democracy of taste flattened into algorithmic sameness.

But here's the thing: MATERIALS HAVE MEMORY. Materiality is a process, a combination, a collection of elements or all three.

THAT VENETIAN TERRAZZO = has it. Even the truly tasteless understand this about Venice as we have recently found out.

ANY BRASS DOOR HANDLE = worn smooth by decades of hands? It's been used, darling. Not just photographed.

SOME WOODEN TABLE = scarred by wine glasses and dinner parties and actual life? It's earned its place in ways your pristine marble slab never will.

We're talking about the weight of things. The heft of a proper ceramic vase versus resin from a concept store. The way real linen wrinkles and real leather cracks and real wood expands and contracts with the seasons because it's still, somehow, alive.

THE BEAUTIFUL CHAOS = of mixing materials that shouldn't work but do. Rough concrete next to polished marble. Oxidized copper with pristine glass. The kind of combinations that make Instagram stylists break out in hives but make actual rooms feel like they've been inhabited by interesting people.

Now to drop a few names…

JOSÉ ZANINE CALDAS = knew this. His "protest furniture" carved from single logs? Wood that had lived as trees before becoming chairs. Materials with memory, with purpose, with the kind of environmental consciousness that makes your Ikea flatpack weep.

FRANCOIS HALARD = gets it. His “images” and spaces feel like they've been accumulating patina for centuries (they usually have), importantly; never assembled last Tuesday by a team with mood boards. 

The kind of spaces that feel discovered rather than designed.

THAT RANDOM PALAZZO = in Venice with the chipped frescoes and the marble worn smooth by centuries of feet? That's what we're after. Not the sanitized, "timeless" neutrality of every f*cking hotel lobby.

Because here's what they don't tell you: PERFECTION IS COMFORTABLE, AT BEST

Yes, an Eames chair is (classically) pretty in its new/“perfect” state but the wear on that leather after 20 years is simply hotter. The plaster that's cracked just so. The wood that's been bleached by decades of sunlight. The stone that's been carved by weather and time and the beautiful, chaotic process of existing.

OUR PURSUIT = isn't to create rooms that look good in photographs. It's to show spaces that feel like we discovered someone lives in there. Pieces with weight,  creators and collectors with history, with the kind of imperfect shape that comes from life.

GIVE US MATERIALS THAT MATTER.

—A Garder Manifesto