The colours of Sabine Marcelis

When we first met in 2014, I could sense you were ready to conquer the world… What was your plan?

From the beginning, I wanted to produce collectible designs: It would give me total freedom to experiment. But during those first few years I was a one-woman show, so when things started to get busier, I took on an intern, and soon after that I splurged on a studio manager. That really gave me the ability to extend my vision. I also realised early on that my strength lay in collaborating with companies that have expertise in materials and production. Like S.T.R.S. for instance, who produce all my resin pieces.

Did you have a space already? 

My first studio was very big, in this idyllic old part of the Rotterdam harbour. It was really run down though: it had stucco angels on the ceiling and we had to nail them in place with bits of wood or they would fall down on us! In those early years I worked for artists and fashion designers, figuring out how their ideas could be realised. I loved crawling into their brains to figure out what they wanted. 

Is there a relationship between your work and the process of fashion designers? 

We both work with a limited material palette and try to make the most out of that. Fashion designers find expression in playing with silhouette, layering and pleating. My material palette is mainly made up of cast resin and laminated glass, and I’m always looking for ways to get more out of them, like: can we cast the resin bigger, or what if we bend the sheet after casting? Or when I want light to bounce off something, I take a shape that does that best. Form is a tool to shape the effect of materials.  

Speaking of light effects, I saw a few stunning aeroplane window skies on your Instagram. 

Nature is my biggest influence and inspiration. You have incredible clouds and surreal sunsets. A ripple in still water, the shadow from light filtered through a material… In nature there is always something to grasp. Snow is also amazing, it has this crazy texture. I used to snowboard a lot and when it was cloudy, I wore red goggles to be able to perceive more depth. I loved that they created this surreal experience.

That reminds me of some of your pieces actually… 

Who I am now is an accumulation of these experiences. The discovery that I can manipulate perception by playing with material properties is something I carry on in my design work. For instance, the Totem Light lamp is just a stack of translucent pink resin blocks with a neon tube inside. But the blocks are twisted, so you perceive that single line of light differently in each resin block. A simple gesture and a simple shape, but with a maximum effect. That tension is what I always strive for. 

German painter Josef Albers urged his students to collect scraps of coloured paper to build their own colour collections. Do you have a collection of colours? 

I obviously understand how colour works and how different colours play together. My decisions are based on experience and knowledge, but when I’m working on a project, I follow my gut.  

Your work Colour Rush! An Installation by Sabine Marcelis, on display until May 2024 at Vitra Schaudepot, feels like you had their whole collection as a colour palette… Was that your idea? 

The director of the Vitra Design Museum, Mateo Kries, asked me to present their design collection in a way other than chronologically. So, it was a no-brainer for me to reorganise it by colour. The exhibition layout is a huge spatial colour wheel. All the complimentary colours are split: yellow versus purple, green versus red and blue versus orange, and then there’s grey, black, brown and white of course. Usually there is a lot of academic research behind each show, with big ideas and long texts. I really don’t work like that; I’m very much about simple, strong, singular gestures. My project descriptions are three sentences max. I thought that my plan to strip all these objects of their meaning other than colour wouldn’t be academic enough. But it works really well. It creates unexpected juxtapositions and cuts straight through production methods, styles and time periods. There’s a lot of different chairs in one colour on each shelf, and it’s a calming image that allows you to zoom in on details. And colour is not the same throughout the pieces. Chairs are painted, they have pigments inside the material, or it’s the upholstery that makes the colour.

How did Nina Steinmüller and Susanne Graner, the curators of the Vitra Design Museum, respond? 

They realised there’s no point in trying to turn me into something that I’m not. The curators know the collection intimately and they really brought another layer to the presentation, with colour wheels and colour theories of artists and designers. I contributed with my own colour wheel. It shows how I work with colour within the material.  Maybe that is my colour theory: colour within material. We kept a copy of each colour we made for the show at the studio and we refer to this collection all the time. It’s become a new tool for us. 

You work on many different scales, from earrings to architecture. Is colour scalable? 

If a material can go bigger, the colour can go bigger. The main limits for me are in production. The width of the printer that prints the coloured sheets that are laminated between the glass is limited. For example, the scale of the No Fear of Glass pieces I designed for the Mies van der Rohe Pavilion in Barcelona was defined by the limits of the printer.  

Has your use of colour changed over the years? 

Not sure. I do get sick of colours. At one point everything had to be soft pink and I turned some requests down. I have my limits with some colours. 

Your shapes are rather uncompromising, but then the colours are soft and kind. Is this a way to compensate for their radical shapes? 

It creates a tension, which I need in my work. If something is too nice, it’s not interesting. And if the colours are too loud, it's too much. I’m looking for balance.  

Tell me about the donut shape — it’s everywhere! 

Haha. Everybody expects me to be some kind of donut-eating fiend. I don’t even like eating donuts. But it’s such an amazing shape! It has an interior and an exterior but it doesn’t have a beginning or an end. I like to rework the same shape with different materials because it accentuates the qualities of that particular material. And the donut just does it so well.

You have made a carpet out of woolly donuts, a glass donut, and an upholstered pouf donut for the Swedish brand Hem. 

Reworking the same form in different materials highlights each material. Depending on the function, I choose the material. For example, the bowls I designed for IKEA are transparent so you can see inside them and they are amber because I wanted them to emit a soft glow…. But I’m almost running out of materials to do the donut with…  

The donut pouf for Hem is seamless; that’s quite a feat. 

Yes! And that is what makes great design. That sets things apart from the rest. If that donut had a visible seam, it wouldn’t be the same. It would not be good. For me it was a challenge to make it into this perfect object. It’s the difference between a simple shape and a very well-resolved, minimal design. I want my designs to look effortless. 

It’s almost the opposite of the designs of Achille Castiglioni, where details are a big part of the design. 

As much as I appreciate designs with well-resolved visible details, I don’t know how and nor do I want to design like that. I strip everything I do of any detail and highlight the essence. 

Is that always a starting point for you? 

Not the only one. Though my objects are static, there has to be a dynamic to them, too. I entice the viewer to move around the object. The shape and effect of the object shouldn’t be clear at first sight. It should spark curiosity.  

Does your approach change depending on the scale of the project?  

The bigger the scale of the project, the more I feel the responsibility to do something that triggers, but I wouldn’t work with these immersive spaces and screens that are very strong on all the senses. I’d rather pick one or two senses and zoom in on those. 

Did you consider working with other senses as well? Your work already looks quite edible. I can imagine a collaboration with a pastry chef... 

Funny you say that… I’m presenting a food-related project at the Salone del Mobile in Milan this year. And there is a very famous Instagram pastry chef who has made fantastic cakes in the shape of a few of my pieces. It’s really cool that my work serves as a source of inspiration for him. I’m a terrible chef myself though. 

But you’re good at collaborating. 

I’m open to all types of collaboration. To me, life’s greatest experiences are about being surrounded by and working with interesting people that are really good at what they do. I would love to also work with musicians and scientists… I’m open to it all!