Above: Florence Knoll at the Knoll office photographed
by Margaret Bourke-White, 1946.
Paul Makovsky: Mrs. Bassett, why did you decide to give your papers to the
Archives of American Art? Florence Knoll Bassett: I got a letter from them years ago asking whether
I would like to give them my papers. All those years, I didn't know what
they were talking about. [Laughs.] So when other institutions began asking,
I found that old letter and decided to go with them.
PM: One great thing about the archives is that you put them together in
a very methodical way. And the little book you did as a small part of it
is fascinating. FKB: I did it because I wanted to put my career at Knoll in context. The
coffee-table Knoll book jumps all over the place and doesn't really give
the development of the company.
PM: I never realized how important the Knoll showrooms were in terms of
your design. FKB: They were important because we had to do a lot of convincing. At the
time there were very few clients who were interested in these ideas. They
thought they had to have traditional furniture from Grand Rapids [Michigan].
These showrooms were what really convinced them. Hans Knoll's office, for
example, was a big sales tool. By doing it we showed the way to save square-footage.
PM: The Chicago Knoll showroom was a dramatic space. FKB: It was incredible. That space was the negative of the
New York showroom, which was full of light, windows, and
color. But the one in Chicago was a miserable thing, with
pipes and all that stuff going on in the high ceilings. So I
painted the whole thing black, except for the floor. Then
everything was delineated in light colors within the
showroom to show the product. We used floods of light on all
the things that we were supposed to show. Do you know how we
photographed it? I didn't do it. Idaka, the photographer,
did it. What he did was set up a shot, using an extremely
long exposure, and then we went out to dinner for an hour or
so. That was a brilliant idea of his.
PM: I look at the picture of the Hans Knoll office--even though it
was designed in 1952 it still looks modern. FKB: We made it logical and functional, but at the same time we tried to
make it human. I did it with my husband in mind. Because he was light-skinned
with golden hair, the colors were a good background for him.
PM: In the archive, the pairing of the perspective sketch and the photo
of the office helps explain the process you were developing. FKB: I always believed in using actual fabrics in plans, even if they were
thrown together in a rough sketch like that. For some reason it worked,
even though the scale was wrong.
PM: What's great about the layout of the Hans Knoll office is that you reversed
the traditional layout of using a desk in front of a chair. There's a table
in front of a chair and a cabinet in back. FKB: Of course, that was the whole point. The traditional layout was the
absolute norm when I started designing offices. They had a big box in the
middle of the room. They had a table behind it, and it was always full of
stuff. "That doesn't make sense," I said. "We should make
the storage behind and make the front a table." That's how it got started.
I was architecturally trained to think logically about space.
PM: What was the reaction when you showed this to your clients? FKB: Oh, they got the idea. In those days the boss usually
had a decorator. They did his office and maybe some of the
other senior executives, but the people further down the
line had offices designed by the purchasing agent, who
ordered furniture out of a catalog. So when I came along
with my questionnaire, I wanted to know what they needed. It
was kind of a radical idea, but it was also logical and
obvious.
PM: You often think of Knoll furniture in domestic spaces. Yet when I was
looking through the archive, aside from your own private work, most of the
projects that the Planning Unit did were for larger spaces. FKB: If you think about it, it's only recently that architects do the buildings
and the interiors. What started architects doing that was the fact that
I worked on Connecticut General with Gordon Bunshaft and SOM. We were in
the same office building. So it was almost like one office--the drawings
went back and forth. They learned from the Planning Unit how to set up an
interior-space-planning team. When I started out, there was Frank Lloyd
Wright and Alvar Aalto. They were exceptions to the rule. Because I was
working in architectural offices, if anything came along that involved an
interior, they turned it over to me.
PM: How did the Planning Unit come about in the 1940s? FKB: I was working in New York. Hans Knoll came in and was trying to sell
a chair design that he had bought. That's how I met him. He had a request
to do some interiors and asked me to do them for him. That's when the Planning
Unit got started. So I went to work with him in a tiny little office at
601 Madison and, as we grew, we got the penthouse. At that time I started
to collect all of the people I really admired, like Saarinen, Bertoia, and
Rapson, who were at Cranbrook when I was there. That's how the Knoll designers
happened. Except for Jens Risom, who had already worked with Hans. Risom
was a very good designer and he was doing this Danish thing. Not that it
wasn't good, but it was different from what was coming from the architectural
world. I'd studied with Mies and was very interested in that form of design.
I was responsible for convincing Mies to allow us to do his furniture.
PM: Was that hard? FKB: Yes, it was. He was a silent man--very private. I told
him, "I promise you we will never allow any outrageous
colors or materials to be used on your furniture." I
think that convinced him. But it was a new experience for
him to have his furniture go into production. It had been in
some kind of limited production in Europe, but it was quite
limited.
PM: By this time, you had other designers working for you? FKB: Oh yes. I never considered myself a furniture designer, and still don't.
I designed furniture because it was needed for a specific plan. It was really
people like Saarinen and Bertoia who created very sculptural pieces. Mine
were architectural.
Above: Hood (died 1991) and Florence Bassett in Vermont.
PM: How did you decide to do the classic pieces by Mies? FKB: It all started from a need: we had projects of a certain scale that
needed pieces like that. The chairs Eero Saarinen did were developed that
way. We wanted a big comfortable chair; we needed an office chair. That's
how those things got started. Eero designed a series of molded chairs and
made models for three or four of them. "Which one should we start with?"
he asked. "Let's start with the biggest one, just for fun,"
I said. We didn't know where to go. Finally we found a manufacturer over
in New Jersey--a fiberglass-boat builder. We walked into this place with
these great big holes in the floor, which were the mock-ups, or molds for
the ships. We came with a model of the chair [laughs], and he looked at
it and thought maybe we were a little crazy, but he was a nice guy. We sold
him on the idea of making this chair, and then it became a very good part
of his business.
PM: Was it hard to find good people to work at the Planning Unit? FKB: No, it wasn't. I had a small but excellent staff. Peter Andes, who
worked there, called the Planning Unit, "Shu U." As a critic I
would say, "What do you think about this?" or "Why do you
think it should be that way?" It was a learning experience--sometimes
both ways.
PM: Throughout your career you had a knack for picking the right school
and the right client. How did you know to go to the Illinois Institute of
Technology in Chicago? FKB: When the war broke out, I came back from Europe. I hadn't finished
my education. I heard that Mies was out there, so I went out to see him.