Years ago, a New York businessman selected my furniture for a television show filmed inside his most recognizable landmarks. That businessman was Donald Trump, the show was The Apprentice on NBC, and the setting was Trump Tower in New York City.

Years later, the Kennedy family entrusted me with a historic honor: provide a design for the Summer White House of President John F. Kennedy in Hyannis Port, Massachusetts.

Throughout my career, I have worked with people across every divide, different beliefs, different backgrounds, opposing ideologies. The work remained neutral. The standards never changed. Of course, I have my own political views, as everyone does. But I have never used my work, my clients, or my audience to promote them. art is not a tool for persuasion or indoctrination. I have always believed that design exists to rise above division, not to serve it. I still believe in its power to unify, to endure, and to speak a language stronger than politics.

Antonio Larosa

Milan, Italy, late 80s.  I had just started studying architecture at the Polytechnic University of Milan. The school was great, famous architects and designers were teaching classes, giving workshops, and sharing ideas that felt bigger than life. But I wanted more than lessons inside university walls. I wanted to see the real design world up close.

I also needed money, so I thought: why not try to find a job in design while I study? Learn the trade before graduation and get a head start on the future. Back then there was no Google, no internet, no personal computers. So I grabbed the old-fashioned phone book and started searching for design firms in Milan. At first, I made a list of big, unknown companies because I thought getting hired there would be easier.

Then I started walking around the city, knocking on doors. Literally knocking on doors. Every day I would ride the metro, walk through different neighborhoods, climb staircases, ring bells, and wait for someone to open the door and magically offer a completely inexperienced student a design job.

Weeks passed ...nothing. Slowly I realized the truth: no company wanted to spend time teaching a freshman who knew almost nothing about design or drafting yet. So I stopped for a few days and changed my strategy completely. Instead of chasing random big firms, I asked myself:
“If I could work anywhere in the world, where would I really want to be?”

The answer came immediately: Sawaya & Moroni Architects.

At the time, the company was one of the most exciting design studios in Europe. Every month their work appeared in major architecture and design magazines. They were bold, creative, different …always ahead of the curve. So I made a brand-new list. This time, only my favorite design firms. Sawaya & Moroni was at the very top.

The next morning I jumped on the metro and got off at Piazza Missori, just a short walk from the magnificent Duomo Cathedral and the old Renaissance castle once home to the powerful Sforza and Visconti families. I still remember that moment like it happened yesterday.

I walked up to the building, knocked on the door, and a gentleman opened it. He asked who I was and why I was there. Then I realized he was William Sawaya himself , the head designer and one of the owners of the company. I instantly became nervous.

I told him I was an architecture student looking for a design job. He looked surprised, probably wondering why this random kid had appeared at his door. Trying to be polite, he asked if I had a portfolio or samples of my work.

“No,” I answered.

Then he asked about my drafting and design skills. I told him the truth: “I’m a freshman. I have zero experience.”

He smiled. “So,” he said, “you came here looking for a job with no experience at all? You do know where you are, right?” At that moment I was ready to disappear from embarrassment. But instead of running away, I decided to be completely honest.

I said: “Of course I know where I am. And yes, I know I have no experience. But this is my favorite design firm in the world. If I’m going to learn design somewhere, this is the only place I want to be.”

Then came silence ...a long silence. I was sure another door was about to close in my face. Instead, after a few seconds, he smiled and said:

“Okay then. See you tomorrow morning at 9:00 sharp.” And that’s how I got my first job in design.

The next day I walked into the studio and met my new coworkers: two Japanese women, one German designer, one American woman… and me, the only Italian there. Even the boss, William, was from Lebanon.

For a young student from Milan, it felt like stepping into the whole world at once.

Antonio Larosa

Created for public spaces, the GT bench designed by Antonio Larosa, was inspired by the Palazzo Terragni located Lissone, Italy. The building (pictured below) was designed in 1938 by the master of Rationalist architecture, Giuseppe Terragni.  The clean design of the bench, the selection of materials and finishes are blending together exceptionally. At first glance the bench even looks like a miniature Palazzo Terragni.  Larosa named the bench GT in honor of the rationalist architect and the city of Lissone but this product is also a masterpiece of sustainability as well. The simple armrest/handle is a universal design detail added to facilitate the use of the bench for the elderly or disabled …a useful aid to sit down and get up from the seat and -at the same time- allows two elderly people to sit next to each other (something that would not be possible in a traditional bench with arms located at both ends). Structure made of solid aluminum, seat made of composite wood slats or man-made stone. Antonio Larosa designed the GT bench from recycled materials and to be completely recyclable! …but seriously, who wants to convert into reusable material such a beauty? Buy GT and keep it forever! 

#antoniolarosa #antoniolarosadesign #larosadesign #theitaliandesigner

An exhibition designed and coordinated by Antonio Larosa Design.

When you hear about a chair exhibition, the first thing that may come to mind may be images of the flashy, glamorous chairs seen in many high-end, glossy-paged design magazines.  Many of these pieces of furniture are intended to be beautiful to the eyes, however, often they are uncomfortable to sit in which renders many of them better-suited to be on display in museums rather than being of practical use in our living and work spaces.

The “anonymous chair” exhibition moves the spotlight to shine, if only for a brief moment, on the common, ordinary chairs, often the creation of an anonymous designer, the simple, seemingly “un-designed” products that we have been using all our lives. We recognize these “workhorse” chairs from our grade school classrooms, neighborhood cafes, bars, churches, and workplace break rooms, yet we often fail to acknowledge their simple, stylistic beauty as it often fades into the work-a-day settings where we use these objects. Like most things we take for granted, we are often pleasantly surprised when we take a step back and spend a moment to really look at their lines, their designs, their forms, and their functions – the design elements that we hope to encourage you to properly consider in this exhibition.  After viewing this exhibition, we hope to transform your impressions of these common chairs from being ordinary to being extraordinary.

A limited number of original chairs were selected for this exhibition.  The center stage of the exhibition could only be occupied by the classic “rustic chair”, better known in Italy as the “Paesana chair”. Close by, we explore several other classics, including the folding beach chair that was introduced during the economic boom in Italy during the 50’s and is still in popular use world-wide today.  Appropriately neighboring the center stage are some of the chairs we grew up with in our own homes, schools, businesses, and many of our churches.

We conclude this brief though significant view of the history of the Italian ordinary chairs with a glimpse into the future of these beloved, practical pieces of furniture.  Looking forward, we show our continued respect and appreciation of these Italian classics by introducing you to several modern-day versions of these timeless favorites. For example, the exact shape and proportions that are the heart and soul of the Paesana chair are respectfully updated in “Kore”, a new, stronger, modern, aluminum edition destined to continue the world-renowned success story and workhorse status it inherited from its predecessor.

We believe the history of the common chair will be much like the history of Italy itself – full of rich, classic, important stories from the past and promising to fill future decades with many extraordinary memories. We hope that after you attend the Anonymous Chair Exhibition you share our passion for these fundamental founding members of the furniture realm.  And when you leave, may you take with you a new, or renewed, admiration and appreciation for the functionality, beauty, simple elegance, and continuing story of these furniture classics.

#antoniolarosa #antoniolarosadesign #larosadesign #theitaliandesigner

In the year 2000, I found myself seated in Philip Johnson's small, minimalistic personal office at the Seagram Building in New York, the very masterpiece he collaborated on with Mies Van De Rohe. Engaged in a conversation about furniture design over chilled Frappuccinos, I ventured to ask him, "Why not design furniture for some Italian companies?". Johnson, wearing a surprised smile, responded, "I don't know why you're asking me."

"Well, considering your status as the godfather of modern American architecture, I believe you could excel in designing furniture." I said.

Still smiling, he replied, "Look, I'm not that great at designing furniture, but if you're truly seeking an architect to design some furniture, don't ask me. You should ask the architects I admire the most. I believe he would be the right person to design some very interesting furniture." Taken aback by the response, I asked, "Who's this person?" He answered, "Well, his name is Frank Gehry. I love his work, so you should talk to him." I couldn't help but laugh, exclaiming, "Wait a minute! I'm discussing furniture design with the most important architect on the planet, and you're suggesting I talk to Gehry? Ha!" Johnson's humility left a lasting impression, commemorated by a beautiful book about his life and work that he graciously signed for me ...a cherished memento to this day.

Antonio Larosa

#antoniolarosa #antoniolarosadesign #larosadesign #theitaliandesigner

Several years ago, I received a phone call from a representative at a Chinese university, inquiring about my interest in relocating to China to teach and lead a design department. Surprised by the unexpected call, I sought more information by posing questions about the state of design education in China and the reason behind their interest in me.

In response to my first question, the representative candidly explained, “You’re likely aware that if you handed any object to a manufacturing company in China, they could reproduce it precisely. The challenge lies in the lack of design skills within Chinese companies to create their own designs.” This insightful observation resonated with my existing thoughts on the matter.

Addressing my second question, the representative acknowledged the necessity for an individual with a comprehensive understanding of design thinking from both European (where I had pursued my studies) and American (where I was presently working) perspectives. This recognition of my diverse experience was not only flattering but also presented an enticing opportunity. I was on the verge of accepting this proposition when a concurrent offer to oversee a design department at a prominent university in Georgia diverted my decision, ultimately leading me to choose the latter opportunity.

During my tenure as a professor and Chair of a Furniture Design Department and Eshibition Design Program, over the course of three years, I frequently reflect upon a meaningful conversation I had with a Chinese colleague. Our discussion centered around the importance of imparting students with not only the requisite design thinking but also equipping them with the essential design skills and knowledge. This challenge captivated my interest not only when I commenced teaching in Georgia but also during my prior position at a prominent state university in the Southwest. I observed a distinctive emphasis on a “shop-oriented” approach in design schools across the United States, a departure from the prevailing methodology in many European universities. In my own educational experience in Italy, students focused less on physically crafting products in workshops and more on engaging in studio-based courses that emphasized process contemplation and explored the design philosophies underpinning creative endeavors.

My aspiration was to guide students away from a sole reliance on tools and equipment, offering them a unique knowledge base rooted in design thinking. This involved immersive experiences in studio-based classes, collaboration with manufacturers and design offices, exposure through travel, and more. Essentially, it served as a test, providing students with a distinctive real-life experience and thought process crucial for their evolution into professional designers rather than being limited to crafting one-of-a-kind products. After just one year, the positive impact of this approach was evident in the remarkable improvement seen in both the student body and the department. By the end of my three-year tenure, the furniture design department I led had not only become the largest but also garnered widespread respect both within the United States and internationally.

I firmly advocate for the presence of knowledgeable and passionate instructors who can instill the right motivation in their students, a motivation crucial for success. The transmission of design passion, akin to the mentorship I received during my own academic journey, is indispensable for shaping a future generation of adept designers. Technical knowledge alone is insufficient; a genuine love for one’s work is essential to effect meaningful change in our society. The emerging cadre of designers has the potential to be a driving force in shaping both our culture and economy. Furthermore, fostering collaboration between design students and their counterparts in other departments—such as business, engineering, and social science—is paramount. This interdisciplinary exposure is the key to addressing contemporary environmental needs and social issues effectively. Our design education programs attract some of the brightest and most talented students; it is incumbent upon us to guide them towards a future that betters society.

Drawing parallels with the perspective of the woman from the Chinese university who emphasized that design thinking, not just tools, is the essential ingredient for a country’s future economic growth, I assert that this approach is a sensible course for design schools. By prioritizing design thinking, we can tackle the challenges confronting design education today and pave the way for innovative solutions.

Antonio Larosa, Designer

#antoniolarosa #antoniolarosadesign #larosadesign #theitaliandesigner

Recently, I was invited to speak at a conference about sustainable design. I was planning to talk about designs that improve our quality of life, but instead, at the last minute, I decided to prepare something that would more effectively illustrate my philosophy that “green is good, but common sense is a lot better.” Of course, I respect LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) and other similar organizations, but I believe designers should do more than just belong to associations. They should use common sense when they design something.

My talk began with a vision I’ve had for years: the world as a big refrigerator, full of leftovers. One of my passions is cooking so I began with a cooking lesson. People stared at me like I was at the wrong conference. I explained that for me, the best part of cooking is opening my fridge and using the scraps. I tell this story because I believe that designers should think in a similar fashion. As designers, we should be able to take whatever is in this “fridge” and create designs using those existing scraps. We have plenty of material to use, but we lack a cohesive system to organize those pieces.

While talking, I started giving some examples to build credibility to this theory. The first was a project I had undertaken with my college students. I convinced a large hotel company to come to us and asked for new furniture designs for one of their chains. Our proposal was to take the existing furniture and modify it rather than starting all over. We took the existing pieces and tweaked them to fit their new design scheme. Some of the wood used for the changes came from taking apart and rebuilding the existing furniture using the same material. We modified the furniture legs, transformed armoires so they could hold large, flat-paneled TVs, replaced existing hardware, cut where necessary and, in less than two days, were able to save about 140,000 pieces of furniture by reusing what was already there.

I then shared a collection of furniture I designed about 10 years ago for an Italian company. The idea sprouted from walking around factories that made leather bags and shoes. Rather than have the masses of scraps sent to landfills, I used these “leftovers” to make a new line of furniture accessories. The main design in the collection is a flower, and the flower is not purely decorative but suggests that you can recycle even the smallest piece of leather into a new design.

This goes to show that the simple concept of looking around and reusing whatever we have—our leftovers—is working to some extent. However, what isn’t working is the system itself. Every city and county should work to create smaller, local “refrigerators” and fill them up with scraps from construction sites, manufacturing facilities and other remains from the detritus of modern life that can be repurposed to make new designs. Instead of throwing away these remnants these should feed into a shared store. But it’s not just the design world we need to convince. We should encourage every level of government to think along these lines and then perhaps this theory of living in a large refrigerator will no longer be just a theory. Just like the two examples I gave, we can design products using solely recycled materials.

As a small child I remember my grandmother would save every glass jar and cardboard box and reuse these materials for everything. I was struck by this and learned that what she was doing wasn’t about being “green” or being a part of a fancy association but rather doing what designers and governments should be doing every day: using common sense!

Antonio Larosa, Designer

#antoniolarosa #antoniolarosadesign #larosadesign #theitaliandesigner