Design Within Reach haunts me. Not in a scary way, more ruminations. Where did it come from, what does it all mean, and, more importantly, why do I find myself strangely attracted to it?
With brick and mortar representation gaining on Starbucks, some suggest that DWR is the new Pottery Barn. Clearly a different vibe, as PB seems to be about New England Farm/Nantuckett nesting, whereas DWR is all mid-century mod and Italian gloss, lending to anonymity and clean escapes. One argument for the shift could be that we are getting less comfortable nesting, easing into overstuffed feather couches with stuffy Brit names. Maybe the modern metropole wants hard, clean surfaces that won't hold a trace of his comings and goings.
What plagues me is: "Within Reach of what?" The initial go to would be within financial reach, affordability. But, unless you make seven figures and can blow $10K on a set of six dining chairs, that seems off. Within reach of easy delivery? Sure there are zillions of stores, three on my block alone, but, as everything requires four to eight weeks for delivery anyway, also not the point.
So what is Within Reach for me? I figure there are two levels. One is Within Reach of my aesthetic comprehension. It's like taking an introductory wine tasting class. I get it. Pinots are dark and complex and could go with rare meat. The DWR catalog or site gives me a gallery grad shot of the piece, a black and white head shot of the designer, and a MOMA-like write-up. I can contextualize and own that piece of history. That is pretty cool, but risks dying on the shelf. I own a Mies day bed...big freaking deal. However, level two is more dynamic, Within Reach of my engagement. If rather then just owning the frozen, lifeless commodity, Mies day bed, I engage in the intellectual history, an aesthetic understanding, a psychological attachment, and a sensual feeling for said Mies day bed, I am reveling in a dyad of me and Mies day bed, engaging in a multi-leveled relationship, both with day bed, and parts of me that Mies day bed, object and construct, awaken.
So, that's resonance. If a string is plucked on a Gibson dreadnought, it echoes in the resonator (the guitar box part), which then sends that frequency back to the string, causing it to continue vibrating at that wavelength or pitch, all in a glorious feedback loop. DWR picks a handful of pieces that are a stretch, but within reach of what I can relate to, understand, empathize with. That stretch or gap, unlike Pottery Barn's fluffy, nostalgic, comfort, gets me wired to engage in a process of engaging and understanding what such a piece of furniture could mean to be. That said, once the process stops, it's all just chairs and couches. GD
