Mario Milana on moments of presence

Born in Milan, Mario moved to New York City in 2005, where he lived for almost twenty years. The city opened up a sense of possibility, fueling personal and professional growth. ‘New York was so energetic, and the exchange that you have there gives you a lot.’

It was at the height of busy times that Mario turned to the meditative practice. ‘It was hard for me to find balance between work, family, and myself. Meditation gave me the ability to deal with stress, engaging with a slower pace of life, and being more present. My wife, Gabriella, is a meditator as well and suggested that I begin, and it's something that you can only start doing when you're ready.

When you are honest with yourself and understand that you're really in need of something, that's the only way it will stick in time.’

After years of working at a studio, and perhaps as a chain reaction to meaningful life changes, he also found his own creative identity. Close attention to surprise, interaction, and materiality had been part of his worldview, but these notions peaked with the dePostura dining chair, the first piece signed under his name. ‘The idea always begins with the behaviour, with the connection that you have with a certain piece. I think, with an empathic approach, how would somebody deal with this with this specific object, this specific piece of furniture?’

‘Another aspect is the curiosity that you might have while you approach a specific piece. Maybe you’re not expecting a certain movement, or a certain functionality. The moment the person approaches and uses the object for the first time, it will create a spark of surprise. Hopefully, that reminiscence, that little memory of that little surprise, will last into the future. It's very much about bringing that genuine reaction to the functionality. The visual is just a consequence of that.’

Underneath this search for strong connections, there is a committed rejection of the unnecessary. Materialisations of this notion appear throughout his work, stripping designs of superfluous detailing, but also in his personal life, making a compelling case against strict curations in favour of home environments welcoming the emotionally meaningful.

‘At home, I try not to curate too much. It’s almost a non-curation, in a way. We are looking for something genuine, and we don't want to be restricted in any way. The environment should be able to welcome any new piece that might join the family.’

Since returning to Milan, now with his wife and child as a family, Mario has gained a fresh perspective from which to look at a city he knows well. A sense of the past was in fact something he was longing for upon his return. ‘I was really craving something with history, something with roots, something with bones. It probably was because time passes, and I changed.’‘I walk around in Milan and stop and look at buildings that maybe didn't tell me anything before, appreciating the way they were built.

I can see a lot of details that I used to take for granted. I feel so lucky to have grown up here because you learn from it without even understanding it.’ Milan also served as a perfect base for his production, which is done by artisans who are just a short distance away within the city. ‘As I got back, I understood that I was really missing the pace of life, the slowness, the appreciation of food, and handmade things and things that take time. It’s very tangible.’

‘I collaborate with a lot of artisans. They are second- or third- generation artisans and live next door to the factory. There’s a lineage to how they transmit their mastery and understanding of a certain material. There’s this pride – they want to keep on going with their craft, and it's quite amazing to see that. Hopefully, we can keep it going, because there is a big value in this knowledge.’

‘I never tried to achieve perfection in the production. I try to leave the welding marks visible in order to give an idea to what a specific piece needs to go through in order to be out in the world. And I believe that the artisanal approach and craftsmanship will eventually show up at an energetic level – even if we don't realise it right away, somehow this energy will travel and we'll understand that. It's always important to understand where something comes from, and the connectivity between whatever we're using and the history behind it.’

‘Even though I have many projects in the pipeline and many ideas, if I can't really explain a project, that means very simply that maybe this project is not worth being done. That’s my filter. Many times, unfortunately, there's not a very strong idea behind the design. It's just a style, which is the opposite of what I'm looking for.’