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How a cross-disciplinary group of students from Grand Rapids, Michigan, ended up in Milan.
By Susan S. Szenasy
Editor In Chief
July 2002
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Tim Murphy (above) illustrates a point as he and his fellow Kendall
students prepare to take their designs to Milan.
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Magazine editors love to go where things are about to happen. So last winter
I eagerly accepted an invitation to Michigan to observe a new program at
Kendall College of Art and Design. There a group of students with their
teachers and advisors--faculty, professionals, manufacturers--were busy
preparing for the school's debut at the Salone del Mobile, in Milan. The
excitement, tinged with some trepidation, was palpable as we met in a classroom
to discuss their travel plans. Someone said the anticipation felt "like
Christmas." Early on in our conversation it became clear that this
was to be more than a glamorous cultural trip to Europe's style capital.
It was also to be a showcase of school president Oliver Evans's Collaborative
Design Initiative.
By early January eight students, chosen from the industrial-design and furniture
departments, were developing schemes for several chairs, a lamp, a bench,
and a wine rack. The models were to be made at half scale ("If you
can build it half scale, you can build it in real life," one teacher
said.) and shown as prototypes at the fair. Though the product designers
seemed to be the stars, all involved had a strong sense of ownership in
the project. The visual communicators came up with the graphics and promotional
materials; the interior designers worked on a spatial presentation that
would highlight the products and create an easy flow of traffic
at the world's busiest furniture show. This would be the first practical
lesson in interdisciplinary collaboration for all of them, including many
of the teachers.
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Eight prototypes, among them Murphy's bench (above) and Steve Rigrish's
wine rack (right) were shown half-scale at the fair.
Photos: Courtesy Kendall College of Art and Design
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"Our usual interaction with people in other departments is getting
on the same elevator," one student explained. In the Milan project
they got to know each other "in a different way," he added. As
in any collaboration, this one must have had its rough spots. But the advisors
practiced something called "conflict resolution," and the
students showed every sign of respecting one another's expertise. Egos were
checked at the door. "You would come in with an idea one week,"
one student said, "and the next week there would be twenty versions
of it." Everyone agreed: the resulting designs were better and more
worked out than the original ones.
In April I saw the Kendall group again in Milan. Tim Murphy, a senior in
industrial design who came to his studies after five years in the U.S. military
as a computer and radar technician, was beaming. His hair was stylishly
spiked, his suit and tie were neat yet inventive, and he brimmed over with
enthusiasm as he recounted a visit from an important manufacturer who was
interested in producing his bench. The booth looked well organized, modern,
inviting, and much more professional than many of the other schools exhibiting
nearby. The graphics were easy to read; the collateral material was technologically
up to date. It was clear that all collaborators had done what they had set
out to do--those who stayed behind as well as those who came to Italy.
Last winter in Grand Rapids the students told me that their assignment would
end when they told the Kendall student body about their experiences. I hope
that in the telling they didn't forget how they all worked together to get
to Milan in the first place.
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