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Top Women Designers of the 20th Century

 

It’s often difficult to pinpoint where credit is due when a pair is working under the same studio. Given the customs of the time, if there was a man on the project, it would go on to be attributed to his name. Unfortunately, this has made it difficult to tease out the brilliance of so many women who brought original, innovative ideas to twentieth-century design. As the tide shifts and we begin to look a bit closer to certain histories, however, countless talented women are emerging as so much more than mere sidekicks. To make a start on redirecting the spotlight, we’ve gathered a few of our favourites, beginning with a focus on Modern design in the West. These five mavens of Modernism may not be new names to many, though the extent of their quiet eminence might come as a surprise even to design afficionados. In any case, their contributions are a force of inspiration which we hope to cast into greater clarity as we reconsider the story of Modern design.

 

Ray Eames

 

‘LCW Chair’ / ‘La Chaise’ by Charles and Ray Eames (1948)

 

The name Ray Eames is best known in conjunction with that of her husband, Charles Eames. The two remain an iconic design duo as well as an inspiring team, in life and in work. Charles was always the first to shine a light on Ray’s integral part in their projects, quipping “whatever I can do, Ray can do better”. Despite his glowing appreciation for Ray, it’s not until recently that she’s been more widely heralded for her contributions to design as an equal player in their partnership.

Ray was born in Sacramento in 1911, then moved to New York City to immerse herself in its artistic scene. She studied under the painter, Hans Hofmann and became deeply involved in the American Abstract Artists activist group, championing nonrepresentational art in all its forms. She later brought this conviction for abstraction to the Cranbrook Academy of Art just outside Detroit, where she would meet Charles. After a rather convoluted start to their relationship, they married and moved to California, where they began designing as a duo. The pair created their “Case Study House No. 8” together, alongside a vast array of now iconic furniture.

 

‘Case Study House No. 8’ by Charles and Ray Eames (1949)

 

Ray’s background in abstract painting helped to guide the curved, amorphous forms of their furniture, like the “LCW Chair”, for example. The piece was, in fact, inspired by Gaston Lachaise’s sculpture, “Floating Figure”, hence its tongue-in-cheek name, “La Chaise”. This was the first in a long line of rounded, plastic chairs. The couple then developed a machine that would allow them to continue to innovate and produce these unique forms, which Ray actually operated. So, although Ray was often referred to as nothing more than Charles’ “wife and assistant”, hindsight will reveal that she was not only integral to the ideation of their trademark designs, but a driving force in bringing those pieces into being as beautiful, trailblazing works of functional art.

 

Anni Albers

 

‘South of the Border’ by Anni Albers (1958)

 

Anni Alberts reigns supreme in the world of modern textiles. Her style laid the groundwork for a new artistic language which drew the ancient craft of hand-weaving and the cutting-edge visual language of Modern art together. She was born in Berlin in 1899 and eventually gravitated to the Bauhaus school of art. Anni was discouraged from partaking in some more traditionally male-dominated classes, being directed instead to the weaving studio. Ultimately, this clearly suited her as a metier as she’s since become recognised as a seismic force in the field. Her legacy has spilled out beyond the world of weaving to influence the larger art sphere as well as various modern expressions of craft.

Anni took inspiration from her teacher, the artist, Paul Klee, as well as her husband, Josef Albers’ strikingly Modern paintings. Her work was abstract, entrancing viewers and drawing them in just as the paintings of her finest contemporaries might. Only a year after receiving her diploma from the Bauhaus, she rose to head of the weaving workshop. When the Bauhaus closed under Nazi pressure, Anni and Josef took architect, Philip Johnson up on an invitation to teach at North Carolina’s Black Mountain College, bringing their European Modernist sensibilities to the new world.

The pair travelled often, paying regular visits to Latin America where they began avidly collecting pre-Columbian art and textiles which would bear influence on Anni’s own creations. These pieces framed textiles differently for Anni, as they were really forms of communication in a culture which couldn’t rely on any written language. As such, she began to infuse her work with this same communicative force, which would guide the textures, patterns, and colours in which they were articulated, propelling her work to new heights and solidifying her as a creative force for the ages.

 

Lilly Reich

 

Exterior of ‘Villa Tugendhat’ by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Lilly Reich (1930); photographed by Tom in 2013

 

Lilly Reich’s contributions to design are often encountered as something of a byline to those of Ludwig Mies van der Rohe. In truth, she was in the very least a collaborator to her better-known counterpart, and very much an influential designer in her own right. Lilly was born in Berlin in 1885 and her career began as an embroiderer. She joined the Wiener Werkstätte, where she trained under Josef Hoffmann. It’s here that she was introduced to working with fine materials and abstract forms. She then came to work with Else Oppler-Legband, who exposed her to the worlds of fashion, set design, and furniture design, illuminating a wider field of possibilities to which she could turn her talents. She gained momentum as she entered the Deutscher Werkbund, which guided her through its integrative approach to art, craft, architecture, and industrial design. Eventually her prowess in each of these areas earned her the accolade of being the organisation’s first female director.

Lilly’s style is characterised by efficiency, cost-effectiveness, and quality. This shared ethos would eventually lead her to work alongside Mies van der Rohe in organising and contributing to design exhibitions. Their personal and professional partnership took off from there, collaborating on the German Pavilion for the 1929 Barcelona International Exposition. This event would prove to be career-defining for Mies van der Rohe, producing one of his most iconic designs, known as the “Barcelona Chair”. Behind the scenes, however, was Lilly, to whom many now attribute primary credit on the famous chair’s design.

Alas, Lilly’s name is still largely bypassed in conversation about the Barcelona Chair. She has, however, received an extent of her due when it comes to the pair’s work on Villa Tugendhat, completed in Brno in 1930. Together they designed the building and every element of its interior and furnishings, producing pieces like the “MR10” and “Brno Chair”. Their close friend, the architect, Herbert Hirsche went as far as to say that “Mies did nothing without first speaking to Lilly Reich”.

 

‘MR10 Chair’ by Ludwig Mies van der Rohe and Lilly Reich (1927)

 

Lilly’s career soared to great heights both with and without Mies van der Rohe. She kept up her work in fashion, became a director of the Bauhaus, and independently designed various pavilions such as her flowing, open-plan concept for the 1931 German Building Exposition. Nazi occupation drove Mies van der Rohe to the US, while Lilly elected to stay in Germany. Her studio was destroyed in an air raid, and with it, much of her work. She moved toward teaching from this point, quieting her own design output. Even so, what she achieved over the course of her life can be classed as at least as influential as her male counterpart, even if not everyone knows it yet.

 

Charlotte Perriand

 

‘LC4 Lounge Chair’ by Charlotte Perriand, Pierre Jeanneret, and Le Corbusier (1929)

 

Thanks to a recent interest in Charlotte Perriand’s brilliant contributions to the Modernist style and sensibility, hers is a name that’s creeping out of obscurity to stand among the many great men’s of the era. She was born in Paris in 1903, leaning into her creative side from an early age. She was spirited, and highly driven, with a singlemindedness that took her to where she wanted to be, paired with a joie de vivre that animated her every endeavour.

Charlotte first drew eyes with her “Bar sous le Toit”, which she exhibited at Paris’ 1927 Salon d’Automne. It’s what established her as a talent to watch and drove Le Corbusier to reconsider her application to work with his studio. After initially rejecting her with the charming admonishment, “we don’t embroider cushions here”, he couldn’t help opening his eyes to her talent. Charlotte went on to work in the studio alongside Le Corbusier’s cousin and later, her romantic partner, Pierre Jeanneret. She produced countless invaluable designs for the studio, energised by an excitement for the possibilities that the machine age presented for improving quotidian life through design. She was inspired by the spiralled, tubular steel handlebars of bicycles, as well as the concept of standardising and mass-producing furniture in a similar way. This gave way to one of her best-loved designs, the “LC2 Lounge Chair” – a beautiful embodiment of her conception of a chair as a “machine for sitting”.

 

‘Bar Sous le Toit’ by Charlotte Perriand (1927); displayed at The Design Museum in London

 

Eventually, Charlotte shifted away from Le Corbusier’s studio, working with Jean Prouvé for a time before establishing herself independently. She completed top-to-bottom projects, like Les Arcs ski resort, for which she designed not just the buildings but their furniture as well as space-age, capsule-style refuges on the mountain. Later her work as a designer took her to Japan, where she was drawn towards working with more natural materials like wood and cane, diversifying her legacy well beyond the scope of mechanistic innovation. Though her output was varied, her spirit is woven throughout, encapsulated by an adage that would inspire generations to come: “the extension of the art of dwelling is the art of living”.

 

Aino Aalto

 

Auditorium of ‘Viipuri Library’ by Aalvar and Aino Aalto (1935)

 

Aino Aalto has done more than we may ever know to drive Scandinavian design forward. She was born in Helsinki in 1894 and continued to work primarily in her home country throughout her life. She’s best known for her work at Artek, which she founded alongside her husband, Alvar. Aino was a key player in the enterprise from the beginning, initially taking up the post of Artistic Director and eventually stepping in as Managing Director as well.

Aino was integral in establishing Artek’s identity as a brand, building the foundations which would cement it as a bastion of functionalist design. In the early years of Artek, she was the primary creative force, designing the vast majority of the furniture that launched the brand. Building their empire was a team effort which saw Aino designing textiles, glassware, lamps, furniture, and buildings under the studio.

 

‘The Aalto House’ by Alvar and Aino Aalto (1936)

 

Artek’s first ever architectural commission was the 1935 Viipuri Library, in what was then a Finnish city but has since been annexed by Russia and called Vyborg. To this day, it’s generally credited to Alvar, with locals referring to it as the “Central City Alvar Aalto Library”. Though, it’s since been suggested that it was Aino who was the ringleader on the project, envisioning this manifestation of the regional Modern style. The design represented a departure from the Modernist norms propagated by Le Corbusier and Walter Gropius, favouring organic forms and warm, natural materials like wood over geometric formations of white stucco, concrete, and steel. It’s a true reflection of Aino’s thoroughly functionalist approach to design. She articulated her ideas in clear, simple creations, which derived their beauty from utility and purity of form – an ethos that continues to permeate great designs nearly a century down the line.

 

 

 

Text by Annabel Colterjohn