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REVIEWS

Book Review
— Alison McReynolds

How Munari sought to reconcile design and the public in a complicated world

Beginning with his useless machines and finishing with the commercial arts is a wonderfully apt way to begin a series of essays by Munari on design and art. Having designed ashtrays, created modern graphic design and the first bending children's toy, it would be difficult to underplay the impressive scope and diversity of Bruno Munari's body of work. Beginning his career in 1925, he shrugged affiliation to any one ideology while working adjacent to Futurism, Surrealism, Modernism, and Italian Fascism. Working alongside formal movements, his professional tangent is both uncharted and fluid, skirting temptations to be pigeonholed by the restrictions of a particular movement. Munari worked as an art director, artist, industrial designer, sculptor, illustrator, writer, and graphic designer. His 1966 volume, Design as Art, energetically moves through his thoughts on all of these domains within a slim 224 pages, tucking in some graphic exercises for good measure.

Munari, Bruno, and Patrick Creagh. Design as Art. London: Penguin, 2008. Cover image: courtesy of Penguin.

Munari, Bruno, and Patrick Creagh. Design as Art. London: Penguin, 2008. Cover image: courtesy of Penguin.

Munari has successfully maintained his persona as something of a mystery. Given the varied nature of his practice, biographical retellings of his career have sizeable gaps and read more like a curriculum vitae. In an autobiographical account, Munari talks about his emergence in the world as being like a shock to the system: “[a]ll of a sudden, without warning from anyone, there I was, completely naked, in the middle of Milan, on the morning of 24 October 1907.”[1] This introduction to the world suggests a level of detachment from himself, a staging of his sense of self as an act of discovery. He never directly references sources he may have found inspiration from, but it is reasonable to recognize similarities to works by artists such as Francis Picabia or the Vorticists. Dada and surrealist art styles and forms emerge in both Munari’s graphic and industrial compositions, but there are many questions to be asked about how well those ideologies functioned and thrived in (then) fascist Italy.

It is difficult to discuss Munari without considering his links to Futurism, and by extension, Fascism. For fairness and clarity, Alberto Munari (the son of Bruno) has threatened to sue both authors and publishers for defamation; please refer to the preamble to this article by Alessandro Colizzi for more information and context.[2] After the last U.S. election and proposal for a border wall, there was a sense of soul searching in the architectural press. What is the role of designers in oppressive regimes? How should designers function within these systems? At times, Munari’s photomontages show an almost cinematic approach, translating propaganda-like ideals into experience with the juxtaposition of photos or a manipulation of scale. Concurrently, Munari designed posters for the communists and made works for children. There is a cut and dry nature to his professional practices, but occasionally his ambivalence around politics feels alarmingly irresolute. The distinction between commercial and fine arts is very clear to him, but as a reader it can be difficult to tell when one is reading Munari the Artist or Munari the Designer. “Different things will have different forms, and these will be determined by their different uses and the different materials and techniques employed.” (pg. 48) Reflecting on the idea of a designer with personal style, Munari puts forth the idea that we must consider context, always.

At times, the prescriptive liberation of modernism bleeds into the texts, notably: “When the objects we use every day and the surroundings we live in have become in themselves a work of art, then we shall be able to say that we have achieved a balanced life.” (pg. 28)  Munari equally seems fixated on critiquingthe hazy opinion of the Public; those who listen to The Beatles and buy nice modernist painting for their nice modernist homes. Although it is easy to dismiss the sometimes obnoxious individualism that a modernist life demands of its participants, the enthusiasm for a sense of collective spirit is present throughout Design As Art:“as long as art stands aside from the problems of life it will only interest a very few people... [w]ithout losing his innate aesthetic sense he must be able to respond with humility and competence to the demands his neighbors may make of him.” (pg. 25). Design philosophy and thinking can (at times) be shockingly exclusive, considering the service is ultimately rendered to a public. Munari responds by recalling the playful intent of design.

Ashtray Cubo, Bruno Munari 1957. Image by Albertozanardo, licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0 (via it.wikipedia.org)

Ashtray Cubo, Bruno Munari 1957. Image by Albertozanardo, licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0 (via it.wikipedia.org)

Parallel to his work in graphic design, Munari maintained an interest and practice of working with children’s books. He even published a children's book in 1942, a remarkable task given the war happening around him. In these books, Munari makes no reference to the war around him; and though it may seem standard practice, considering his propensity to warp his life story to suit his desired image, Munari the Pedagogue ultimately believes the design can bring about a more peaceful and harmonious life. In an epigraph from a chapter, he uses a Lewis Mumford quote to emphasize his belief that art should be accessible: “Why have we become like gods as technologists and like devils as moral beings… idiots in aesthetics - idiots above all in the Greek sense of absolutely isolated individuals, incapable of communicating among themselves or understanding one another?”[3]

Miroslava Hajek, an art historian who worked with Munarion his archives later in life, wrote that to understand his body of work, we must understand his aims: “namely, the exploration of the perceptual and sensorial faculties, and the search for ways to overcome objective limitations.”[4] In a video of him interacting with his useless machine, Munari blows on its component parts, revealing to the audience the unfixed nature of his machines.[5] He speaks of the dynamism and changing composition of the piece, not holding much pretense around its useless nature. This childish moment, unrestrained by the architectural weight of the gallery behind him, shows Munari at his best: optimistic in the power of art as play and design as civic exercise. It is still difficult to decisively say who Munari is, but maybe Munari the Moving Target serves to remind us of the task at hand: to distance ourselves from our work, and try to find an appropriately suitable answer for what is asked of us.

References:

[1] Bruno Munari, “Le persone che fatto grande milano” in Corriere della Sera (Municipality of Milan, 1983), quoted in Alessandro Colizzi, Bruno Munari and the invention of modern graphic design in Italy, 1928–1945 (2011)

[2] Colizzi, Alessandro. "Walking on Thin Ice : Bruno Munari’s Relation with Politics under the Fascist Regime." August 2017. Accessed May 20, 2018. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/319310555_Walking_on_thin_ice_Bruno_Munari's_relation_with_politics_under_the_fascist_regime.

[3] Lewis Mumford, “Art and Technics” (Municipality of Milan, 1960), quoted in Bruno Munari, Design as Art (London UK: Penguin, 1966), 51.

[4] Hajek, Miroslava. Bruno Munari: My Futurist past. Cinisello Balsamo (Milano): Silvana, 2012. Munari, Bruno, and Patrick Creagh. Design as Art. London: Penguin Books, 2008.

[5] Interni Magazine. “MUNARI BRUNO.” YouTube, YouTube, 9 Mar. 2012, www.youtube.com/watch?v=bxB1uzl35Kk.


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Alison McReynolds is a Calgary-based writer and student. She is interested in how intent manifests in design and policy.