Core77

It's hard to decide whether Ronan and Erwan Bouroullec deserve to be praised more for their design or for their already prolific careers. Design has a long history of creative duos and pairings, from Charles and Ray Eames to Isamu Noguchi and Kenmochi. The brothers Bouroullec have already been more prolific than Noguchi in the industrial design arena, but their monograph feels almost premature since they're both barely past thirty. Many modern designers become famous for one mind blowing piece, but the Bouroullecs have instead created seemingly hundreds of variations out of a softly colored, gently curving palate. Some of their designs, like their consoles for Cappellini, have an almost shaker sensibility. Combining beautifully shot product photos (including piles of unproduced prototypes and process) with short accompanying text pieces, their monograph, now out in paperback and affordable for back-to-school giftbaskets, provides a careful record of their output while at the same time failing to illuminate one unspoken question: How did they get so successful so fast?

Because each chapter is arranged topically, their progression from struggling beginnings to design acclaim isn't spelled out as a clear narrative. Instead the reader has to read between the lines (or pictures, so to speak), to understand their journey. What is clear, just as it was for the Eames's is, that for them to be successful so many times, they must have prototyped endlessly, once again illustrating that there are no short cuts in design. Less clear, however, is how an aspiring designer can emulate their careers.

The Bourellecs state, "We've never manufactured anything ourselves. As far as we're concerned, design is a two-handed business, in which we do the designing, and someone else does the manufacturing." The accompanying text for their ceramic work, for example, begins straight off with more collaboration -- this time with Claude Aiello, a practicing turner. How Ronan cultivated that relationship, or induced a seasoned ceramicist to work with him on the project is never quite explained. Later, when they speak of laser cutting their "Cloud" and "Brick" dividers, it's immediately understood that they have manufacturers and sales channels lined up, because they've already become known and successful. The transition between the two remains elusive. That said, I know a lot of people who spent a great deal of time making models, and are now having a very hard time selling them.

Perhaps Ronan's first meeting with Giulio Cappellini when he presented his "Disintegrated Kitchen" was their most important sales meeting. It seems that everything since came so easily. But the truth is far more complex, and the days and hours of work and sketching they put in comes through in the volume of photographs within. In their work and their success, these two brothers amply illustrate that the old aphorism that luck is when preparation meets timing. Precisely how they turned that first success with Cappellini into a meteoric career remains frustratingly elusive, but one thing is abundantly clear: I'm sure it wasn't as easy as they made it look.