Top yacht designers pick their favourite piece of design

Words by Francesca Muzio, co-founder of FM Architettura d’Interni

My mother bought me this chair for my desk when I was a child. I was completely fascinated by it: incredibly light, yet so resistant. As I studied architecture I came to appreciate it, and all of its nuances, even more. Today, these are the chairs that surround my dining room table.

The idea of a super-light chair was developed nearly two centuries ago in the town where I was born, Chiavari, near Portofino. There are legends about the chairs being tested by throwing them out of the window. In 1957, Gio Ponti was inspired by the Chiavarina chair to design his most famous chair, the Superleggera.

Ponti’s design is the result of endless experimentation — nothing was assumed. Every angle, joint and sculpted curve was carefully adjusted, and the backrest even inclines backwards, proving he had an understanding of the way the body really rests. The resulting simplicity, and weight of only 1.7kg, is anything but banal.

I have a profound appreciation for lightness in design. It emphasises the people and their interactions that fill the space, rather than making the object dominant. With the Superleggera, the light is invited into the space and people are encouraged to move freely, effortlessly rearranging the chairs on a whim.

To me the success of the design in the end lies in the dual respect for body and space, which is why I believe that the Superleggera is the best representation of Italian design in the world.

Words by Donald Starkey

I had a very modest upbringing so it was not until my mid-teens, having started my first job as an architect’s office junior, that I first tasted a decent bottle of wine. Fortunately, I developed a taste for it and have been drinking wine ever since — it has fuelled my creative juices on many occasions.

Good wines need a corkscrew; it can be so frustrating when you do not have a decent one. I have had success with the cheap, old fashioned penknife type — bottle between the knees and pull. There have been many versions designed since — mechanical, electrically operated and elaborate, such as the amazing bottle opening sculpture designed by Rob Higgs in 2006. But the one that has become my favourite is the Screwpull LM-400. It is a simple, cast engineered aluminium tubular device presented in an elegant, velvet lined black leather case.

It was some 10 years ago, after we had made a successful client presentation on a 60 metre yacht project, celebrating with a glass of wine with my friend and business colleague Kevin Glancy, that the subject of corkscrews came up. We each gave our ideas of what the perfect one should be. On my next birthday Kevin presented me with a Screwpull LM-400, which has been cherished and used ever since.

Practical, functional and so very simple to use, it appeals to me as good design. Placed over a standing bottle, held around the bottle top with the left hand, the lever is pulled over the top of the bottle as far as it can go with the right hand, then swung back over and the cork is free. It works every time, even through capped corks. Life would just not be the same without it.

Words by Andre Hoek

Design is valuable when it stands the test of time. Few manufactured items retain their design appeal for more than a few years and many quickly become outdated. Not so the Porsche 911, a genuine style icon that not only has survived for more than 50 years but is still being built to virtually the same design. For me, this is a car that looks right from all angles, is beautiful in its own right and still turns heads young and old. I have owned a Porsche Targa and presently own a 911 4S, a car that is 15 years old, but still looks like new — it could have taken shape on the drawing board yesterday.

The combination of sheer power and beauty is intoxicating. Just setting eyes on these cars is always a joy and to drive them is one of the most exhilarating experiences on wheels. Performance is virtually unmatched. The Porsche 911 was for many years one of the most powerful sports cars on the road. It possesses phenomenal acceleration; it can take a corner at very high speeds and holds the road like a limpet. The combination of brilliant styling and engineering to produce an adrenalin-pumping performance is worthy of considerable respect. Few 54-year-old designs have achieved that.

I am not a car fanatic but I do appreciate design that is timeless and works for the end user. I like to think that the design work emanating from Hoek Design produces yachts with genuinely appealing looks that will still melt the heart in 50 years’ time. The pleasure derived from owning a thing of beauty is something upon which one cannot put a price. But it is fair to say that brilliant design will always hold its value. The Porsche 911 is evidence of that.

Words by Martin Francis

When I first visited Venice with my parents in the mid-1950s I took a photo of a fórcola, the rowlock of a gondola. I still have the picture in my archives. Perhaps my interest in the shape, which then appeared completely abstract, stemmed from the fact that my mother, having moved from the stuffy Royal College of Art to the more dynamic Chelsea School of Art, had studied sculpture with a bright young teacher called Henry Moore.

On returning to Venice many years later, I met the master craftsman Saverio Pastor, who makes oars and fórcole for all the traditional boats on the Venetian Lagoon. I acquired the first fórcola in my now bountiful collection and made a new friend.

This example is a stern fórcola da puparìn. The puparìn is the most elegant of the sandoli (work boats) originally designed to transport rich Venetian families. It is the perfect combination of function and form, every part has a purpose – high gear, low gear, reverse – and the whole piece puts even Henry Moore in the shade. It is carved from a single piece of walnut using traditional hand-tools like the adze and draw knife.

Having started my career as a cabinetmaker I am filled with nostalgia every time I make my pilgrimage to Pastor in his small workshop on the canal in the Dorsoduro district. He is a passionate supporter of traditional craftsmanship and has one apprentice – I’m often tempted to ask him if he would like another. Since every type of vessel has two fórcole, and there are at least nine boat types, I have many more visits in store, whether or not I’m on the payroll.

_Words by _Marnix Hoekstra, co-creative director at Vripack

Both I and Bart, my co-creative director at Vripack, owned the Sony Sports Walkman when we were teenagers. We didn’t know this about each other until we met years later. But it shows our tastes were aligned even then!

It finally allowed you to bring your tunes to the water. That was amazing for guys like us, who loved sailing and surfing. It was splash-proof, so you didn’t need to wrap it in plastic bags (something we both did with previous Walkmans).

And, of course, it was super cool in the late 1980s because it was bright yellow. It was chunky, tough, with this big clip on the side that you had to lift over the rubber seal that kept it waterproof. We loved it. You really wanted to wear it on your belt where everyone could see it.

I got my Sports Walkman when I was 15, in 1991. I was earning some money cleaning boats. In my little village there was one store where you could buy electronics and I remember going week after week. Finally, after a few weeks, I had enough to buy it.

I took it on my first major crossing, a tall ships race from Aberdeen to Helgoland, an island north of Germany. On the night-watch I listened to my Walkman, looking over the sea. I felt very wise and mature.

It brings back memories just looking at it, but also makes you realise how fast we move to new technologies. It is a great symbol of how a good design can be super successful when the timing is right, and how swift that moment is gone.

Words by Andrew Winch, founder of Winch Design

Four years ago, I decided to improve my attire. I had had a few suits made in the past, by no one in particular, but I wanted to treat myself because we were about to celebrate 25 years of Winch Design.

I did my research, looked at the options, and thought that Richard James was the best fit for me. His cut was comfy, the suits were not too flamboyant but, at the same time, they were individual: I did want to stand out.

The first suit I had made was a black-tie outfit for the anniversary party itself, which we held in Mayfair. When the tailor came to measure me, a wonderfully old-school character, I realised what my clients must feel like when I design them a yacht.

When he said that I needed a slightly longer cuff, I trusted him and found that I really loved having something custom-made to me. When I wear that suit I stand straighter, I feel like I have a better physique and I feel empowered. No one has the perfect body, but it is a wonderful feeling when you put something on and feel proud.

I have now had four suits made by Richard James. The next one was for presentation meetings, in a Prince of Wales check, and I wore it recently to pitch for my biggest project yet. When I met the owner, the first thing he said was: “That’s a lovely suit.” It made him feel that he was talking to someone who cared about aesthetics.

I got the job and I like to think that when I finish it next year and he sees his yacht in the yard, he will feel like I do when I wear one of my bespoke suits.

Words by Rob Doyle

I remember seeing my first Leatherman multi-tool as a teenager in the 1980s, watching how the professional sailors solved any problem with a Leatherman, duct tape and a hammer. I needed to have my own.

Over the years I’ve owned a few, each version improving on earlier models. I love my current Leatherman, which I’ve had since 2007, for its basic functionality. The Skeletool CX is a third generation of the multi-tool and represents a total rethink on the philosophy: you don’t need 15 tools, just the basic ones that you use the most. It was clever and brave of the manufacturer to take away functions while other brands were adding more.

It is beautifully crafted: low weight, a compact design and a comfortable fit in the hand. It is a joy to look at its dense engineering and a pleasure to hold. As a naval architect and designer, I appreciate the balance between styling, engineering and materials. This deep understanding of what can and can’t work has protected me from presenting unrealistic concepts. It’s not “it can’t be done,” rather “it’s not the right time for that idea”.

I always have my Leatherman with me; it gives me a peace of mind knowing that I have a knife, screwdriver and pliers ready. Has it ever saved the day? Yes, a million times: from fixing one of the kids’ toys before they go thermonuclear, to cutting a jammed line in a block while under load. It’s never celebrated but the one time you forget it will be the one time you really miss it.