Top yacht designers pick their favourite piece of design

Superleggera chair

Photo: Gio Ponti Archives

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.

Screwpull LM-400

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.

2002 Porsche 911 4S

Photo: Alamy

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.

Olympus OM-1n camera

Words by Mark Tucker, founder of Design Unlimited

As a poverty-stricken art student, I paid silly money, borrowed from my dad, to get my hands on the Olympus OM-1n. It was my absolute dream purchase.

I loved everything about this single lens reflex camera, and still do. It had everything: the looks, the textured finish, the perfect weight, the right balance in my hands and ergonomic functional controls. And the Leica lenses were interchangeable, making it extremely flexible. It felt so good to use – and use it I did, extensively.

But how photography has changed 30 years on. Then it was all about looking through the lens, playing with the aperture, exposure, shutter speed and making a deeply considered decision as to whether it was the right shot to take or not. Developing the film in a dark room and seeing the image so caringly captured come to life was pure alchemy. Now luxury smartphones, throwaway shots and Photoshop editing have changed this art form in its entirety.

I’m no Luddite, but there was a certain romance associated with “real” photography. There’s a feeling evoked using the old methods that cannot be captured with the latest technology. It’s the understanding of the space around you; making something that elicits a unique feeling in the viewer, both of which I have tried to harness during my many years of yacht design. And the ease of use of the OM-1n, with all its innovative features, is something else that’s reflected in our studio’s design process.

Earlier this year, I vowed to put my old OM-1n to good use. It took two months just to track down the batteries – from the US. Now it’s time to set up the dark room once again.

1973 Series 3 Jensen Interceptor Convertible

Words by Peder Eidsgaard, founder of Eidsgaard Design

I have always loved convertible cars, with space for four. Take three friends with you on that sunny drive and it feels like you’re on a boat trip in the countryside. Or take the whole family. A large convertible is not ‘daddy’s thing’, it is everyone’s thing.

My favourite is the Jensen Interceptor Series III Convertible. The body is long and sleek, with crisp lines and understated detailing. The side vent aft of the front wheel is typically there for a purpose: the enormous V8 engine is constantly blowing very hot air out of there, and the louvres in the bonnet are real. The windscreen is tall and honest, protecting the passengers in the sumptuous and spacious cockpit. I even like the car when the hood is up.

In spring 2015, my wife Ewa and I finally came across an Interceptor with the right spec, in Switzerland, and bought it. Mid-life crisis had finally arrived. The car dates from December 1973; it is the first of the 509 that were built.

Initially I thought we would repaint it in a grey metallic but, after seeing the colour in the sun, we fell in love with it. The unusual powder blue was applied by previous owner Frederick Forsyth, the author wanting his Interceptor to be the same colour as the car in the film of The Day of the Jackal.

While yachts and cars are deemed to be female, we all like them to have a certain presence and muscle, too. For me, the Interceptor combines feline elegance and pure simplicity, with spades of muscle. In essence the Interceptor’s design is what I try to achieve with Eidsgaard’s yacht exteriors: efficient packaging with beautiful proportions, and a unique theme that is applied with care and consistency.

1973 Series 3 Jaguar E-Type

Words by Tim Heywood

When the E-Type Jaguar first hit the streets, it was as if a spaceship had landed. Cars on the roads in 1961 were mostly boxy designs and the E was a revelation. I saw my first in-the-flesh E-Type while cycling to school. In the words of Enzo Ferrari it was “the most beautiful car ever made”, and I still agree.

The fluid aerodynamic lines – penned by aircraft and car designer Malcolm Sayer – I find feminine, seductive and tactile. The addition of the flared wheel-arches in 1971, to accommodate wider wheels and tyres, added a sharp finishing detail that completes a more considered, well worked, look.

I bought my 1973 Series 3 E in 1996 at an auction in London - she had been an export car to Australia, brought back by an English aristocrat who kept her on his estate and never put her on the road in the UK. The first time I washed her, the aristo’s coat of arms peeled off. I have reinstated the original Series 1 headlight covers and proper knock-off hubs.

She is a great car to drive: comfortable, tight, responsive and fun. People stop on major roads to let you out of the side streets; every British driver is proud of this car. It is hard to stop smiling when behind the wheel and that feeling is infectious.

I am sure my fondness for this design has permeated my own work, where fluid, athletic, feminine forms lie alongside hard, crisp details. From Pelorus to Event to Symphony I can feel and see the influence. Malcolm Sayer’s creation is alive and well, both in my garage and in my work.

A fórcola by a Venetian craftsman

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.

Sony Sports Walkman WM-F5

_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.

A wood and aluminium lounge chair made by Eames

Words by Mario Pedol

Five years ago we bought Eames aluminium chairs for our new office in Milan and I added to the order an Eames lounge chair (shown here with ottoman) for my house. They were all delivered to the office, and the lounge chair is still there! I can’t bring myself to take it home - I love to see it when I’m working.

The chair is an absolute icon of industrial design and was created by Americans Charles and Ray Eames in 1956. I love it for its combination of innovation, technology and style, while its timeless elegance means it fits proudly in any environment, from a traditional gentlemen’s club to a contemporary Milan design office, and from a yacht club lounge to a chalet in the Dolomites. The three materials chosen by the Eameses - wood, leather and aluminium - evoke nature and modernity at the same time.

The chair is made with three separate shells (seat, backrest and headrest) of cold-moulded wood “filled” with comfortable leather cushions that are connected to the shells by an almost-invisible zip. The shells are connected to the aluminium frame through flexible joints that enhance ergonomics and comfort, allowing the chair to adapt to the sitter. Behind its apparent simplicity lies a hidden depth of sophisticated design and a study of detail both in the production process and in the product itself.

The lounge chair perfectly embodies a motto that is framed and hangs on a wall in our office and that we always keep in mind in our design practice: “Simplicity is the essence of good design”.

Leatherman Skeletool CX

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.

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