Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Maria Pergay, 79, Furniture Designer


Last weekend, although New York City was overrun by style enthusiasts in town for that International Contemporary Furnishings Fair, Maria Pergay, a 79-year-old Parisian furniture designer fairly unknown in this nation, was ensconced inside a nautical modernist room at the Maritime Hotel. She was in New York not for the furniture fair — an event, it turns out, that she has in no way heard of — but to show her most recent function in the Demisch Danant gallery in Chelsea (including a sofa of broken bricks she is shown sitting on). Those expecting a woman of her age to create gentle, feminine, upholstered pieces appropriate for a Paris pied-à-terre may be surprised by what may be Ms. Pergay’s material of choice for decades: stainless steel.

What's it about stainless metal which you love?

Everybody is scared of stainless metal, but we possess a link — there is something deep within between me and stainless steel. This substance which appears so strong, difficult and cold is sweet and not sharp, and it matches with everything. It's a good contrast for colors and other materials.

You will find four pieces on this display, such as cube tables that look like boxes following an explosion. It seems just a little bit violent.

It is my wish that individuals have at house next to them something which asks them questions, you see. To make them realize that behind every thing could be hidden some other points. This cube — it’s a plain cube, appears like any type of cube — but it includes a treasure.

You imply the snake wood you see through the blown-out front?

Sure. It is lively, colored and soft.

So you are peeling the steel off, like a layer, to reveal something else.

Sure, it’s very French.

What concerning the sofa? The damaged bricks appear a little bit violent as nicely.

Nothing is more popular and ordinary than a sofa, right? But this one is made of broken pieces of bricks. The bricks are solid bronze covered with nickel. It is a little bizarre. Bricks are something you build houses with; this is what's left following the items are damaged down, but it is still something strong. You are able to take them and construct some thing again.

Strength appears to become a theme in your work.

It's very important. You can display, in truth, that, yes, these pieces begin to become accommodating and soft and familiar inside your home. It is a mirage of my furniture. But I do not like the word furniture. Individuals do not require my pieces to become furnishings, to utilize like a location to put plates or blankets or whatever.

If your function isn’t furniture, what's it?

An expression of — what can I say, perhaps like it came from Mars or the moon?

You mean it’s a little bit alien?

Yes.

Is that what you’re like like a individual — to other individuals, you may seem hard on the outside or just very independent, but inside you’re delicate and fragile?

I don’t know. In general, everybody has a pinch of poetry inside. Not everybody gets to see that, and that is the challenge: to light the light within.

But they are able to find out some thing about on their own by looking at the items. If they pass by and they stop, that signifies there’s a connection among the piece and themselves.

But an costly connection!

I should select another material that's not so expensive. I don’t know why I've such a contact with this substance.

Well, you have a lengthy history.

Would you say that your romantic relationship with steel is the longest relationship of one's life?

Since I started every thing, in 1957. It's my greatest marriage.

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