Those born south of the Alps and north of the Mediterranean Sea are far too used to this flat and stereotyped representation of Italy. An Italy that undoubtedly exists, but that too often is the only one able to tell its story: the Italy of good food, monuments and Italian design<\/strong>.<\/p>\n Today, perhaps more than ever, Italy is recognized abroad as an exporter of beauty, Dolce Vita and design. These are all real and valuable elements, of course, but they risk becoming scenographies and caricatures of themselves rather than living realities. The Colosseum, the Vespa, Naples\u2019 suspended coffee, Bologna as \u201cthe fat\u201d before being learned and red.<\/p>\n The image of Italy circulating around the world, fueled by social media, mass tourism and lifestyle brands, is seductive but flat. It is an aesthetic reduced to surface, to a color palette, to an image. It is a beautiful Parthenope, restricted to golden light and a perfect body, without friction, without complexity: an endless promotional short film, beautiful but not very authentic. It sells extremely well, but says little about reality.<\/p>\n In the field of design<\/strong>, the process seems to be the same. What do we mean today when we talk about Italian design<\/strong>? What is truly left? That terrace with the basket of lemons and Italian design share the same bitter story, in which something complex, rich and contradictory is reduced to a seductive postcard.<\/p>\n Today, what often remains of Made in Italy is above all the brand: certainly profitable, but too often reduced to a name, a label, a brand that survives the substance. Like a beautiful elderly lady walking alone, kept standing only by the glories of the past, an empty shell stripped of its essence.<\/p>\n This is the story of many brands across fashion, industry and design. It is the story of the famous brand Flos<\/strong>, founded in 1962 in Merano by the visionary Gavina and Cassina together with Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni. For years, it was not simply a company, but a forge of ideas, a creative laboratory.<\/p>\n Arco, Parentesi, Snoopy<\/strong> and Taccia<\/strong> were born there and became archetypes of the sector, forever changing the way domestic light and design were conceived, entering the collective memory even of those outside the industry. Acquired by Hunter Douglas in 2012, Flos still stands out today for very high production quality, but its artistic direction seems above all oriented toward keeping the historical catalogue central, rather than decisively investing in genuinely risky new projects.<\/p>\n Similar, both in structure and outcome, is the story of the Brianza-based brand Cassina<\/strong>, founded in 1927 and immediately established as a reference point for the Italian design industry<\/strong>, capable of dialoguing with the great architects of the twentieth century: from Le Corbusier to Magistretti, through Rietveld, Mackintosh, Bellini and Pesce.<\/p>\n The model is clear: a manufacturing company that becomes a spokesperson for culture, innovation and design. Also acquired by Haworth in 2014, in this case too the cultural function seems to have been significantly reduced in favor of a more conservative approach.<\/p>\n The problem, however, does not seem to be so much linked to the nationality of the companies, but rather to the financial logic of international groups, which understandably tend to maximize the value of existing assets instead of investing in research with uncertain outcomes.<\/p>\n When a large publicly listed group acquires a company that has historically been the engine of a cultural language, it can acquire its economic heritage. But if it does not also assume its role as a spokesperson for identity, the system loses its driving force.<\/p>\n A reissue of Arco or LC2 will sell with relatively low marketing effort, at important prices and with almost no risk. By contrast, an innovative project by an emerging, perhaps young designer is a bet with an uncertain outcome. Why take the risk, then, in a system oriented toward profit maximization?<\/p>\n This is precisely where the paradox of contemporary Italian design<\/strong> lies. It was once celebrated around the world not only for production quality, but also for its ability to be revolutionary, critical and nonconformist.<\/p>\n It happened in the 1970s with explicitly provocative movements such as Memphis, Radical Design and Anti-Design. Added to this is another paradox: the classics of Italian design are so strong, recognizable and profitable that they have themselves become a problem, giants of the past that risk crushing the designers and projects of tomorrow.<\/p>\n The most encouraging sign, however, is that the problem does not lie in a lack of talent or excellence. Excellence still exists. It can be found in small studios, in local manufacturing districts, in independent companies that, with difficulty, try to hold profit and identity together.<\/p>\n Companies such as Magis, Foscarini and Alessi<\/strong> remain faithful to research, even at the cost of sacrificing immediate return. Excellence exists and resists in all those realities operating within a system that often does not make them visible, among design fairs that reward large budgets and magazines that privilege the strongest brands. It also resides in all those \u201cbrain drains\u201d who find success first in London, Amsterdam or Copenhagen and only later in Italy, a homeland where no one seems able to remain a prophet.<\/p>\n This same awareness seems to point to only one possible direction: not nostalgia, not empty nationalist rhetoric that keeps digging up a supposedly glorious past of \u201cpoets, artists and heroes\u201d, but a structural revolution in Italian design<\/strong>.<\/p>\n Invest in young designers before they become famous, or before they are no longer so young. Give research space again at fairs, which should not be only polished showcases, but true laboratories for exchange and innovation. Enhance production districts not through folklore, but as centers of excellence to be preserved.<\/p>\n The future, then, cannot be about imitating the 1960s. It must be about understanding what was truly systemic in those years and what can still be replicated today.<\/p>\n From this perspective, Be the Project<\/strong> \u2014 therefore, being the project \u2014 must necessarily mean rethinking the creative act in its essence, in its most literal sense: being, and not only appearing, in order to sell.<\/p>\n This contribution was selected among the 5 winners of the \u201cBe the Project\u201d<\/strong> contest, promoted by Archi&Interiors together with Hdemy Group, NAD \u2013 Nuova Accademia del Design and Accademia Cappiello.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The light is warm, full, almost blinding. It slides across white and blue majolica tiles and reflects on a small coffee cup resting on the edge of a terrace overlooking the sea. Beside it, a basket of freshly picked lemons, a curtain moved by the light wind carrying the salty scent of the sea. In…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":25,"featured_media":15566,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"top_category":[],"class_list":["post-21392","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-progetti"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n![\"History](\"https:\/\/www.archieinteriors.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/history-of-the-arco-lamp.jpg\")
<\/p>\n![\"Philippe](\"https:\/\/www.archieinteriors.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/philippe-starck-juicy-salif-alessi.jpg\")
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