Their Plates Are Smashing

By J.D. Reed

A group of top architects produce a classy line of tableware

Couturiers do it, television stars do it, even educated socialites do it. They "design"-and autograph-all kinds of housewares, from teacups to towels, cashing in on their celebrity status. Now they are getting competition from a less flashy but doubtless more highly qualified quarter: a group of internationally renowned architects.

In a unique venture, a fledgling New York City firm called Swid Powell was formed to commission the architects to design china, crystal and silverware for the $4 billion-a-year "tabletop" market. The resulting collection of some 50 pieces was unveiled earlier this fall at Marshall Field's in Chicago; two of the architects, Richard Meier and Stanley Tigerman, attended to show off their handiwork. (The others displaying works: Charles Gwathmey, Robert Siegel, Laurinda Spear, Robert A.M. Stern, Robert Venturi, Japan's Arata Isozaki.) The designs are already a commercial as well as aesthetic success. At Field's the china is moving briskly, and some of the silverware sold out within four days. Major department stores in eight other cities across the U.S. are experiencing equally encouraging sales and have reordered. In addition, New York City's Museum of Modern Art has selected some of the pieces for its permanent design collection, and the Metropolitan Museum of Art is in the process of doing so. Says Marshall Field's Buyer Robert Doerr: "It's been a long time since the tabletop has had this kind of excitement."

Historically, architects have made notable contributions to domestic accessories. From 1903 to the 1930s, Vienna Visionary Josef Hoffmann and others produced jewelry, tableware and even wallpaper at his celebrated Wiener Werkstatte. Bauhaus builders made seating and sinks to furnish their functional structures, and Michigan's Cranbrook Academy of Art inspired mid-century classics like the Eames lounge chair. Frank Lloyd Wright not only fashioned lamps and dinnerware to complement his houses, but even lent his name to mass-produced furniture, carpets and fabrics.

In more recent years, except for occasional forays into furniture, architects have tended to confine their visions to larger structures. Their buildings, however, may be the very reason for the new venture in accouterments. R. Craig Miller, the Metropolitan's 20th century design associate curator, suggests that the architects are prompted by "a need for new furnishings to make postmodern interiors complete."

For Meier, 50, who recently won the commission to design a new $100 million-plus arts and humanities complex for the J. Paul Getty Trust, the problems posed by the tableware project were part of the attraction. Says he: "I was interested in objects that could be mass-produced and usable and of quality." All three requirements are handsomely met throughout the collection. There are sturdy, dishwasher-safe porcelain plates ($46 to $145 each), full-lead crystal bar-and stemware ($35, $36) and silver-plate candlesticks and bowls ($125 to $350). The collection shuns traditional five-piece place settings for eclectic offerings. There is, for instance, Venturi's complex "Grandmother," a pastel floral print overlaid with bold black dashes. "Miami Beach," by Spear, a partner in Florida's brash Arquitectonica firm, mixes soft-colored blobs and a bright red bar. Chicago's Tigerman, known for his theatrical home designs, created "Sunshine," in which bold colors interplay with a cartoon-cute pink angel. The elegant and evocative "Majestic," by Stern, a professor of architecture at Columbia University, combines art deco gilt ornament with a ruby-red rim. Meier's "Professor" barware employs etched lattices that suggest both Louis Tiffany and Ludwig Mies van der Rohe; the motif is echoed on a dramatic silver bowl mysteriously titled "King Richard."

How did these busy architects, who often compete against one another for seven-figure commissions, get together on tableware? Easily, say Nan Swid and Addie Powell. The two ebullient women, both former executives of Knoll International, invited nine architects to lunch at Manhattan's sumptuous Four Seasons restaurant in 1982. They presented a detailed plan for the line, but had so little capital that they could offer the architects no fees, only the promise of royalties. Says Swid, 42, whose husband Stephen is Knoll's cochairman:

"We had a lot of chutzpah." That, apparently, was enough. "An architect stood to toast the venture," recalls Powell, 40, a veteran management executive. "But another said, 'Sit down, we've got too much work to do.' " Last month Swid and Powell showed buyers their new pieces, including four porcelain patterns and, to satisfy customers who want complete place settings, solid black and white plates, cups and saucers to harmonize with the designs. Store buyers are pushing them to add items like sheets and towels. But the women make it clear that they will go only so far in pursuing the vogue for signature designs. Says Powell: "We're not doing chocolates and shopping bags." -ByJ.D. Reed. Reported by William Tynan/New York

With reporting by William Tynan/New York