Our Milan Design Week Exhibition as a Celebration of Paola Navone’s Prolific Practice and Generous Spirit
One thousand numbered objects, 623 lottery drawings, 591 “Take Its,” 32 “Leave Its,” and a smattering of trades therein, all in the span of five days. Last week, The Slowdown presented our first-ever public event, the exhibition “Take It or Leave It,” in collaboration with the Italian architect and designer Paola Navone, and it was no placid affair. But of course it wasn’t—the off-kilter exhibition started with an outside-the-box idea by Navone, after all, to give away hundreds of items she had collected or designed over the years, from Indian metal spoons to indigo textiles to ceramic pitchers from Puglia, for free. As much planning and preparation went into the production, nobody could have anticipated exactly what would play out over the course of the week.
Presented at Navone’s architecture studio in Milan’s Zona Tortona neighborhood, the exhibition comprised four rooms: an entryway featuring an Illycafè coffee bar and the exhibition manifesto text; a drawing room; the exhibition space; and a photo booth. After entering the studio’s foyer, participants enjoyed espressos at the coffee bar as they waited for their lottery drawing. Once it was their turn, they were ushered into the drawing room, where they would choose a number at random from the bucket of lottery balls, then were accompanied by a Slowdown team member into the exhibition room to identify the corresponding numbered object. Upon finding the object, they were faced with the decision: to literally “Take It” or “Leave It.” With their new possession (or rejected item) in hand, they would then walk into the photo-booth room, where they were interviewed about their decision to take or leave the item, then had their photo taken with the object before departing.
On Monday, the opening day of the exhibition and the day of the first lottery drawings, more than 200 reservation holders and members of The Slowdown—including architects, designers, editors and journalists, and even a priest—came through the exhibition, taking away with them items including Chinese lanterns, a hand-shaped marble sculpture, and bamboo-like plastic chopsticks. Within an hour, the first trade took place: Emrico Zilli, the founder and editor-in-chief of the architecture and design magazine Archipanic, won a ceramic vase from Thailand, but didn’t have room for it in his suitcase. Erik Maza, the executive style director at Town & Country, meanwhile, won a blue woven textile, but had been hoping for a ceramic piece. The two happily exchanged objects, thus spawning a third possibility: “Trade It.” (Many more trades would follow over the course of the week.)
On Thursday, the second lottery day (Tuesday and Wednesday were for public viewing only), hundreds more attendees came through. Winners walked away with ceramic plates and platters, a plastic dinosaur figurine, a stuffed animal rat, and a variety of fish-themed ephemera (Navone is a Pisces and has long had an affinity for fish). Of the silver inflatable wings she won that day, New York–based fashion stylist and shop owner Beverly Nguyen said, “I’m taking these because I’m going to fly away, and they are perfectly me!” About the pair of giant sea shells she won, Madrid-based artist Blanca Guerrero said, “They are unbelievable. And water has always been a big inspiration for my work.”
Winners on Friday, the final lottery day, left with everything from a papier-mâché Chinese New Year mask to a four-foot-tall decorative metal fork. Gianluca Reina, co-founder of Cabana magazine, won a large hand-painted ceramic pitcher from Puglia. “I want to drink beer directly from here like a viking,” he joked. New York–based designer and architect Rodolfo Agrella decided to leave behind the giant blue glass bottle he won, cheekily remarking that it was for “two very important reasons: I’m trying to quit drinking alcohol, and because Venice needs more glass. It’s a sustainability issue.” Claudio Mayer, a businessman from Trieste who won a clay turtle figurine, said, “It’s like my lifestyle: slow but relentless.”
Throughout the week, I had the delightful (if taxing) task of interviewing each lottery winner about their newfound treasure. One thing above all stood out from my conversations: the attendees’ overwhelming adoration for Navone and her work. Designer Alberto Biagetti summed up this sentiment perfectly: “Paola has the Midas touch. Everything she touches becomes gold.” Others, when asked why they decided to take their objects, said, very simply, “Well, because it’s from Paola.”
It was especially heartening to hear from those who had thoroughly read the exhibition’s manifesto. When asked why he decided to take the handmade textile he won, Clayton Crawley, the priest from Monday, said, “I like that the purpose [of the exhibition] is to upcycle and move an object from one person to another, and I want to be part of that process.” Milan-based interior designer Davide Baldassare, meanwhile, said, “I think the idea behind the exhibition—to recycle and upcycle—is genius. We all already have so much.”
I’ve never been one to buy into the idea of destiny—I lean more in the direction of coincidence and serendipity—but what I witnessed over the course of the week nudged me one or two steps the other way. The vast majority of attendees walked away with items that seemed to be meant for them: sets of drinking glasses for two people who had just moved into new homes, a decorative blue glass bottle for a woman who lives by the sea, a tea strainer for a tea lover, a vase for a flower lover, a spoon for a spoon collector. The architect Gertrude Kintzel, who won a giant seashell, said “I think the object took me! I entered and looked around, saw the shell, and hoped it was mine … and it was mine!” Then there were the coincidences that felt too good to be true. A girl wearing a tote bag with the hamsa hand symbol won a metal tray in the exact same shape. Two friends, both video-makers named Francesco, won the exact same tote bag from Thailand, of which there were only two in the entire exhibition. As if one final poke from the gods of fate, the very last person to draw, just before 7 p.m. on Friday, had the last name “Lottieri”—as in “lottery.”
And so the week came to a close. With around 400 numbered objects remaining (including, most notably, a Gervasoni Ghost armchair with a custom slipcover adorned with magenta yarn, which never got picked), the exhibition room was a mere skeleton of what it was at the start. In the end, the presentation felt like one big celebration of Navone—of her prolific career; her eccentric taste and vast collection; her longtime friendships with our editor-in-chief, Spencer Bailey, and the exhibition’s curator, Daniel Rozensztroch; and, needless to say, her radical and generous spirit.