The art of luxury

Everyone in Milan knows of Rossana Orlandi, but few know where to find her. I take a taxi around Via Matteo Bandello, the small street her address mentions, three times before locating the obscure, brown door. The taxi driver is befuddled. “I pass address again and again,” he says, shaking his head vigorously, “but no find. Just no find!”

Then, we spot the name ‘Rossana Orlandi’ above a push-button bell. She has spread her wares across a garden and a series of attached lofts and apartments, one of which she plans to convert into a bed-and-breakfast where one can
buy the furniture or the decor. In the gardens of Spazio Rossana Orlandi (literally ‘Rossana Orlandi’s Space’), a richly coloured blue ceramic pig welcomes guests.

At 69, though not a designer herself, she is one of Milan’s most feted interior design curators. Her showing at the annual Salone del Mobile design week, the most important event each year on the design calendar, is extremely popular even though it is held away from the main exhibition at Spazio Rossana Orlandi. She prefers her inconspicuous location, saying, “Too many these days are too exposed. Where is the mystery?” By next year, Orlandi’s store will open in India, but she gives few details. She only says that a partner is almost finalised, that she will be in Delhi in October, and will show at the India Design Fair in Mumbai in March 2013.
Wealthy Indians are seeking guidance on everything, from buying art to cars, to decorating their homes. Rajshree Pathy, founder of the India Design Forum, says, “This is the right time for a name like Rossana Orlandi to be in India. She has a unique eye and that’s what the rich are looking for.” Pathy says the wealthy Indian is bored of just marble: “They want something different.”

Spazio Rossana Orlandi could well have been visualised by surrealist artists. Spread over 2,200 square metres, it is a very expensive toy shop. Tie boxes line the walls. In a corner is a bed with a bedpost that opens up like butterfly wings, made by designer James Plumbs; there are desks by Slovenian designer Nika Zupanc which have paper shelves built into them; and curiously beautiful wire mesh animals by Milanese sculptor Benedetta Mori Ubaldini.

Orlandi personally selects each piece from around the world and places them. She particularly enjoys putting disparate things together: The extreme zen of Norwegian glass artist Daniel Rybakken’s Coherence Lamp series is paired with undulating glass lamps by Oki Sato, the Canadian-Japanese mind behind Tokyo’s Nendo design studio.

“There is a spirit of India here, no?” Orlandi says, “So much diversity, no uniformity. That’s why I am coming to India, because ‘everything’s the same’ is over. And no one gets that better than India.”

Orlandi is already sourcing from Indian designers such as Gunjan Gupta and intends to hunt for more Indian talent. “A true mentor for the emotional artist” is how Gupta describes her. “Attention from her can launch any design career. It is enough in the world of design to say you work with her.”

Though they cater to distinct segments, Orlandi is looking at India for the same reason as Swedish furnishings giant IKEA—Europe is slowing while India is booming. Orlandi’s own business has slowed from an annual growth rate of around 30% to the current 8%. By her own admission, Orlandi has “little hope” in Europe. The Indian home furnishings market is worth Rs 70,000 crore according to Gujarat-based IKON Marketing Consultants, and growing at 20% each year. Of this, 90% is unorganised.

Also, Orlandi is in a position to avoid the problem that IKEA is facing: Indian government regulations dictate that 30% of goods sold for 100% direct investment must be sourced from Indian craftsmen. It is a criterion that IKEA finds difficult to meet because it is loathe to make an exception to its global supply chain.

After a two-decade career in textile and knitwear, when she worked with some of the biggest names in couture such as Giorgio Armani and Donna Karan, Orlandi says she began to tire of fashion in the 1990s and quit by the end of the century. Clothes, she explains, became “too commercial”.

“When everything became a brand, I knew I had to move. Because the stronger the brands grew, the less there was, how should I put it, that sense of the artist; see Issey Miyake, now that’s an artist,” says Orlandi. “To me, art is everything. Art is adventure. Fashion was adventure. Then the industry became scared and it was all about selling.” So she hired what used to be a tie-making factory and launched the Spazio Rossana Orlandi, becoming the luxury guide to the wealthy and design connoisseurs.

Her importance has grown since 2008, with the world undergoing a bespoke movement. In the boom years, the very rich were content buying the very expensive. They now seek alternatives to the heavily branded versions of luxury. Thus, some of the most coveted luxury items today are not the ones commonly seen, such as the brown monogrammed Louis Vuitton handbag which no true aficionado ever buys. For this club of luxury connoisseurs, Orlandi ensures that they receive the truly elevating and not merely the labelled.

“I spend weeks on the road with my buyers looking for creative designs, emerging talent, and great products. Rossana offers these, ”says Ross Urwin, creative director for luxury retailer Lane Crawford in Hong Kong. “She is one of the few people in the world who can put together a total shopping experience. In this age of e-commerce, the environment of a store and the experience it offers is key to its success. The beautiful building at Spazio Rossana Orlandi, the combination of new talent and design icons, and the community atmosphere of the courtyard all add up.”

Orlandi’s explanation is that people come to her “because in their heads they are not thinking, ‘Buy, buy’! Something has changed. Just ‘buy’ is rubbish! Even worse, it is boring!”

Her list of clients features Brad Pitt. The Hollywood star bought two wrought iron chairs called Bush of Iron that have intertwined spikes to give them the shape of a bush or a porcupine, created by one of Orlandi’s discoveries—Nacho Carbonell, a Spanish designer.

“Brad bought them for his children, for them to experience a view of what things could be, how they could be very different from what they know a chair to be,” says Orlandi. Each chair cost Pitt around $90,000 (Rs 49.73 lakh). Carbonell now has his main workshop in Eindhoven in The Netherlands but works closely with Orlandi, sometimes at Spazio Rossana Orlandi, to create new pieces.

Other high-profile clients are the Emir of Qatar and the Princess of Thailand. “I tell them, art has a value and it is eternal, ” says Orlandi. “That value cannot be priced. A price is just money, but you must buy for what the art does for you, which it cannot do exactly the same for another person.”

Not all her clients agree with her choices: “I fall in love with something—I never buy anything that I don’t fall in love with—and then, it does not get sold and I wonder, what is it? Do people have no taste left? Then I am happy after some time. I just keep it in my house!”

“For businesses like mine, the Internet has opened wings—every day new people from diverse places are reaching out to us, ” says Orlandi. “They want new things, different things, and they want guidance. They have money to spend for one or two things maybe but these have to be art, not just a brand.”