Paradoxical objects, that are open to being perceived both functionally and aesthetically, reveal a deeper convergence between design and art. They reveal not only how we interact with objects, but also how we comprehend their purpose and meaning within cultural and social contexts. As Bruce Sterling points out, design is not merely about creating functional objects but about establishing a dialogue between things and people, one that reflects social values and personal experience. A similar approach to how we relate to objects can be found in the writings of Graham Harman:
Social and cultural influences underscore the dynamics between art, design, and everyday life. Artistic objects can be perceived not only through their formal qualities but also through the personal and social interpretations that deepen their significance and contextual role. From this perspective, both art and design act as carriers of broader social messages and as tools for communication, reflection, and change.
With the growing influence of interdisciplinary approaches, the boundaries between design and art are increasingly blurred. Designers and artists today often collaborate on research projects that combine aesthetic, functional, and theoretical aspects. In practice, this may mean artists experimenting with design methods or designers exploring artistic principles in their work. Such approaches spark innovation and foster creativity that draws on multiple fields, seeking new ways of understanding the world around us.While research in design has long been systematically integrated into processes, particularly in material and technological terms, art has undergone conceptualization, dematerialization, and de-skilling in recent decades. This historically different grounding is now dissolving, as both fields strive to respond to complex global issues and pursue new forms of interdisciplinary practice. This text also focuses on examples that develop conceptual approaches through the lens of materiality—on how working with materials intertwines questions of autonomy and responsibility toward the world. Research in design and art is thus not only a technical or theoretical process but a dynamic, creative approach that constantly evolves in response to the shifting conditions of society, technology, and culture.
We reflect on the functionality of omnipresent objects we take for granted simply because they work. They don’t trouble us because they are part of us, evolving in step with our needs. The thread of causality stretching from what is offered to what is deeply desired is so thin we no longer see it in the glow of screens and energy-saving LED lamps. When something is offered, I gladly take it. The standards of need have skyrocketed. The world, where living means surrounding ourselves with things, is bursting at the seams. Do I (or we) really need this?
“Either we ‘undermine’ objects as too superficial, and therefore seek a deeper level of existence, or we ‘overmine’ them from above, speaking only of socially constructed meanings that, at the core, lack the basic principles of the object in its simplicity and functionality.”
– Graham Harman
The man next to me mutters that he has the same lamp at home. He sees it pragmatically, saying he wouldn’t buy it again. He says that he doesn’t understand why it is lying here on the floor, and that he would rather choose something bolder, something to match his new armchair. The woman standing close to him agrees – she doesn’t understand either. For her, the lamp belongs to everyday life rather than art, which, in that sense, has already been lost.
Nearby the vase, I see a lamp. It stands on a desk, radiating the calm of fulfilling its intended function. Its construction is practical, designed to be adjustable, to be pulled closer to the problem at hand. The material is lightweight; easy handling is an inseparable part of its design. Click, flick. The same lamp lies on the floor of a gallery. Instead of a bulb, it hides a paper scroll that manifests the current energy crisis, the possible escalation of wars, and the rise of political radicals. Am I reading this correctly? Did a light switch on in my head when I saw this object in the gallery? Did the lamp make me think of politics and war, or did I merely project my own mood into its hunched posture? Or is it rather just a sign of a family flame gone out, once burning bright and signifying domestic harmony? I remembered that I haven’t spoken to my sister in two years. She hurt me. Faced with this object on the ground, I recall my own relationships. Through the inanimate, I awaken living interactions and human bonds. I lean over the object in the gallery. I want to touch it.
