Outsider views of the development of Danish design have
tended to reflect its marketing as a thoroughly modern, contemporary,
phenomenon. This stance is not entirely uncommon; most people tend not to think
of the historical antecedents of the objects they commonly surround themselves
with. In Denmark things are a little different thanks, in part to a
long-standing educational programme about design that dates from the
establishment of the Royal Danish Academy, Det Kongelige Danske Skildre-, Billedhugger- og Bygnings-Academie i Kiøbenhavn
(now known generally as Kunstakademiet), in
1754. This programme of design pedagogy gained significant momentum following
the striking success of Den Nordiske
Industri-, Landbrugs- og Kunstudstilling, the Nordic industrial,
agricultural and art exhibition, which was held in Copenhagen in 1888. In the aftermath of the exhibition and inspired
by the activities of the Paris-based Union
des Arts Décoratifs, a collaboration between Danish industrialists, artists
and historians sponsored the establishment in 1890 of a museum of Danish design, Det Danske Kunstindustrimuseum (known, more colloquially, as Kunstindustrimuseet). Since
2011, the museum has been known by the gimmicky neologism Designmuseum Danmark.
Originally located near the Tivoli pleasure gardens, the
museum moved in 1926 into the restrained rococo premises of the former kongelige Frederiks hospital (Nicolai
Eigtved/Laurids de Thurah, 1752-57) on Bredgade (the hospital is best known to history as the place where Søren Kierkegaard died in 1855), near Eigtved’s equally
delightful and better-known Amalienborg palace (1750). The conversion of an
eighteenth century hospital into a twentieth century museum of design was
undertaken by the furniture designer Kaare Klint (1888-1954) and the architect Ivar
Bentsen(1876-1943). The integrity of their redesign of the hospital space remained intact until
recently suggesting not only the simplicity of their re-arrangement of the
space and its flexibility but also the enduring quality of their design.
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| A remnant display of late nineteenth century Danish design in the galleries developed by Kaare Klint and Ivar Bentsen in Kunstindustrimuseet. The glass cases along the right wall were also designed by Klint |
The museum’s collection reflects both the extraordinary
creativity of Danish designers and makers over the past two and a half
centuries as well as the scholarship and research interests of not only its
curatorial staff but also that of major donors to the collection over the past
125 years such as Hugo Halberstadt whose collection of Japanese arms and armour – given to the museum in 1941 – was, in the estimation of Nobuo Ogasawara of the National Museum of Japan, ‘one
of the finest collections of its kind anywhere in the world’. The museum’s
collection of Asian and European ceramics, while relatively small when compared
with those of, say the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, is encyclopedic and of a notably high quality. Moreover, the museum has one of the most comprehensive (and delightful) libraries of decorative arts and design to be found anywhere in the
world.
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| Twentieth century furniture displays dating from the early 2000s located within the intact Klint and Bentsen galleries |
However, along with its change of name, the museum seems to
have decided that Danish design is best represented by exhibitions of modern
Danish furniture and its current displays reflect this partial belief. Alongside a long-installed gallery of twentieth century Danish furniture, the museum is currently showing three temporary furniture exhibitions: Øvelse gør
mester: Kaare Klints møbelskole (Practice makes perfect: Kaare Klint’s furniture
school), which focuses on Klint's pedagogical activities; Møbler til folket! Børge
Mogensen 100 år (Furniture for the people! Børge Mogensen’s centenary); and
Wegner: bare een god stol/just one good
chair, a comprehensive exhibition devoted to the work of Hans Wegner
(1914-2007) curated by Christian Holmsted Olesen.
The Wegner exhibition, which runs until December 2014 and comprises some 132 objects, is
the most scholarly and the best displayed of the three temporary exhibitions. The exhibition is complemented by a meticulously researched and
illustrated catalogue that, conveniently, is available in an English language version. The Klint exhibition (on display until February 2015) is undermined by an obscure take on the subject, intrusive exhibition design and a touching belief in the effectiveness of electronic gadgetry. The Møgensen exhibition is comprehensively overwhelmed by the others.
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| Unidentified photographer, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, president of the United States of America, seated in Hans Wegner's 1949 designed 'Den runde stol (The round chair)' in 1960. The chair was manufactured in oak by Johannes Hansen Møbelsnedkeri. Designmuseum Danmark |
From a marketing perspective Wegner was the archetypal post-war Danish designer. Aside from his sheer productivity, the popularity of his designs in the United States, particularly during the 1950s and 60s, prompted a massive expansion in the export of Danish furniture around the world. The notable exception to this trend was in New Zealand and Australia where protectionist tariffs and import licensing regimes made its acquisition financially unfeasible for most consumers. Would-be Antipodean consumers of modernist furniture in the 1950s and 60s had to put up with what, more often than not, were shabbily-produced, pirated travesties of the Danish originals. Contemporary Antipodean consumers of modernist Danish furniture might be well-advised to visit the exhibition before indulging their tastes. If that proves impossible, then the acquisition of Olesen's impressive book would be an adequate, if less tangible, substitute.
It's unfortunate that in pursuit of it's recently announced strategy 'of pursuing alternative exhibition and communication approaches' and re-jigging itself as a 'central exhibition venue', Designmuseum Danmark has decided to move its public focus from a collection that provided it with a unique identity and fostered a remarkable, scholarly, research culture. The museum's pursuit of the chimera of public relevance is hardly unique – witness the sad spectacle of the V&A's social media-driven 'rapid response collecting strategy' – but it's depressing to see it being embraced with such unreflective abandon.
