Author: lettersto2120

Dear 2120,

As you can probably tell from my frequent posting on the matter, Blade Runner 2049 is kind of a big deal here. The legacy of the original Blade Runner from 1982 spreads far and wide, it rolls deep with die-hard fans from director Chris Cunningham to EL-P of Run the Jewels fame singing its hypnotic praises. It’s the kind of movie that inspired a lot of other movies, not to mention an astronomical amount of music, fashion and art. For better or worse, Ridley Scott’s futurist meditation on the nature of human existence has been seared into our collective consciousness. Personally, I wasn’t really sure what to expect from the Denis Villeneuve-directed follow-up. It seemed a difficult proposition for a variety of reasons.

Full disclosure: if I’m honest with myself, I was probably never a die-hard fan of the original. While I can totally appreciate its dense, melancholy atmosphere, singular vision and stunning visual innovation on a more cerebral level, I’ve always found it hard to get emotionally invested. In spite of its unquestionable strengths, it never really got me in my feels. There’s a distinct possibility that I’ve just found it hard to see past the dated bits. For some people, the wonky, early 80s kitsch is the movie’s main appeal, but for me it sometimes becomes the wayward, pointy projectile that sends the soaring Hindenburg of a movie crashing down to earth in cyberpunk-tinted flames. My ADHD-riddled internet brain probably doesn’t do me any favors when it comes to Scott’s meditative sci-fi odyssey, and I certainly can’t rule out that I’m just so used to fast-paced Netflix entertainment that its relentless dwelling on idiosyncratic detail – soundtracked by sticky synths and self-indulgent saxophone solos – is why I sometimes catch myself zoning tf out. This is a movie that’s drunk on its own imagination. It wallows in its own melancholy. That said, I do think parts of Blade Runner, like Rutger Hauer’s dying in the rain with its inspired monologue, are earth-shatteringly great.

What I’m trying to say is that my relationship with Blade Runner is fairly complex, if not a little agnostic. From my perspective, parts of Blade Runner are flat out tiresome, while others are borderline genius. In other words, Blade Runner 2049’s potential was hard to determine. It could go either way, as far as I was concerned.

For the purposes of making this review more orderly and palatable, less rambling and ranting, I’ve divided it into four segments: the soundtrack, the plot, the world-building and the politics. Let’s jump in at the deep end with the heavily contested soundtrack. Spoilers ahead!

The Soundtrack

As I mentioned, there was a bit of an uproar in Nerdland when Denis Villeneuve gave Jóhan Jóhansson the boot in favor of Blockbuster titan, Hans Zimmer. Murmurings that Denis Villeneuve was losing his neuve (lølz) flourished in many a geek-driven corner of the internet, and I can totally see where they’re coming from; with Jóhansson’s timelessly yearning, neo-classical sound, Blade Runner could potentially have followed in the footsteps of its avant-garde predecessor by turning everything on its head. By flipping off an increasingly ossified sci-fi establishment. Then again, A Blade Runner movie that completely neglects the soaring Vangelis synth, wouldn’t really feel like a Blade Runner movie. You can sense Villeneuve’s pickle.

If we start out in the nitpicking department, the main problem with Zimmer’s score is that is has the all the subtlety of being bro-slapped at a toga party. On more than one occasion, I felt compelled to grab the German composer by the scruff of the neck and tell him to cool it with those massive ‘BWAAAAH!’ sounds that he also pummelled to death in Inception. And it’s nice to be overwhelmed by an all-encompassing wall of surround sound in the cinema, but when the wall is so frequent and so loud, it kind of feels like that episode of The Simpsons where they’re making fun of surround sound ads and people’s teeth and valuables get torn off in the soundwave.

Moving on to the good parts, Hans clearly knows what he’s doing. A seasoned craftsman with a proven track record in mesmerizing the big screen sci-fi audience, his vast, immersive tones compliment, contextualize and enhance the movie’s grave, larger-than-life themes. At one point when K flies into the foreboding Wallace monolith, the ambient background noise suddenly turns into a weird, heavily processed, guttural tribal chant that manages to stay on the right side of outrageous. Strange, fucked-up, colossal buildings where they engineer human slaves necessitate strange, fucked up, unholy sounds.

As an old synth-freak I can’t help relishing the generous washes of Vangelis-indebted synth-work that Zimmer implements with knowing precision. Hovercraft ride with AI-girlfriend: Vangelis-synth. Dying in the snow for a bigger cause, which is the final proof that you’re not a ‘skin job’, but a real human being with a real soul: Vangelis-synth. It works a charm, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

All in all, I’d say the the good outweighs the bad by a long shot. 7 out of 10 vintage Yamaha synthezisers.

The Plot

Here lies the centre of my struggle, my main gripe with 2049. I mean, I love the introductory text describing how the Tyrell Corporation had its downfall and the ecosystem collapsed making way for Wallace and his ‘mastery’ of synthesized farming. The scene is set for an epic, downcast, post-apocalyptic adventure.

But then comes Robin Wright’s lackluster claim that they need to ‘keep order’ and if they don’t – if everyone finds out about the replicant baby – civil war between humans and replicants will break out. With no tangible backstory, no discernible character motivation, to underpin this pivotal claim, the premise that the entire movie rests on becomes one person’s half-baked opinion.

It’s a bit flimsy for my tastes. And the combination of uninspired acting and sloppy screenwriting kind of kills the plot for me. Theoretically speaking, I can see how a baby born to a replicant could stoke the fires of an insurrection. The way in which this crucial plot device is delivered, however, just makes the point of no return fizzle out into mediocrity – and I find it very hard to get fully invested in what comes next. Adding to that, the completely overshadowing focus on cinematography can sometimes make it seem like you’re watching 10 different, isolated short films in succession instead of one, unified whole. The plot gives way to the visuals. Now, depending on who you ask, this is either a strength or a flaw. More on that in a second.

These are my main points of contention with 2049. In no way do they make it suck, but they don’t do it any favors either.

The World-Building

This is where Denis and crew really nail it down to a tee. 2049 is a visual cornucopia of sci-fi boner-inducing imagination. I realize that I’m contradicting myself here, but the lack of backstory and character motivation actually serves an engaging purpose in this particular respect because it pushes us straight into the vertigo-inducing action, and sort of makes us observe what these strange people who are so unlike us, but still kind of similar get up to in a fascinating, distorted reality. It becomes a window into an alternate universe that’s taken a hard turn for the worse, and its immersive properties are by turns exhilarating, enticing and deliciously melancholy. Channeling the true, maverick spirit of the original, 2049 makes few attempts to guide its audience along a traditional blockbuster narrative, opting instead to enmesh its viewers in colour, mood and atmosphere with relatively open-ended thematic conclusions.

This is one of the most visually appealing movies I’ve ever seen. If cinematography is your bag, this is your holy grail. It also sits incredibly well with the atmospheric, world-building of the original while building on and expanding its prescient ideas into the present and beyond.

The Politics

At the end of 2017, making a big budget movie can never not be politicized. Sure enough, accusations of misogyny came flying left and right when Blade Runner 2049 first premiered. I-D fired a few rounds at Villenueve, castigating the film as ‘a misogynistic mess’ saying that women in the movie are either prostitutes or ‘violent boss vomen.’ If you judge the new Bade Runner according to criteria that usually apply to contemporary movies, this is a very fair point. In that case, the portrayal of women is straight-up barbaric and very one-dimensional. In other words, most of these women make for dubious role models.

In my humble opinion, this critique is fairly short-sighted. It also kind of misses the point. First of all, this is cyberpunk. We find ourselves in a post-apocalyptic society that’s gone off the rails. It’s creative extrapolation, making us live a worst-case scenario. We have to assume, I think, that untamed capitalism, unchecked patriarchy, toxic masculinity and all the other ills of this world are factors in the precipitous descent into debasement, leaving our protagonists with the sad, broken pieces of a world in rapid decline. Or rather, the decline is over and they’ve hit rock-bottom. Their job is to navigate this hyper-oppressive dystopia where human beings are commodities, and their use-value is the only thing they have going for them. None of these people – neither the men, nor the women – are role models. They’re misguided outcomes of a society based on the every- person-for-itself- rule. I’d agree that creating a visually titillating dystopia could be construed as irresponsible, but that’s a different discussion. (Also, if you’ve read this blog, you’ll know that I’d love to see a full-on utopian movie).

But like Black Mirror, Blade Runner is, partially at least, about seeing how bad shit can really get if we don’t stop and think – if we don’t find a way to curb our most self-destructive impulses. The 2049 universe is the opposite of woke; it’s a scenario that plays out how the world might look if we don’t find some way to change. Hence, big-breasted statues of women in the abandoned, toxic desert are not reinforcing patriarchy, they’re pointing fingers at it. They’re showing us how obsolete, dehumanizing and damaging the commodification of human beings can be.

True, 2049’s themes are subtle and ambiguous. I don’t know about you, but I prefer my entertainment subtle and ambiguous to obvious and lecturing. You could argue that today’s political climate requires lecturing, but that’s another discussion for another time – and one that I’d like to keep out of a Blade Runner debate. Simply put: if you’re going to make a movie or music about how things should be with themes that should be taken literally, that’s amazing and commendable. It has nothing to do with Blade Runner, though, and from my perspective Villeneuve does a good job of orchestrating a bold, new take on the groundbreaking Blade Runner legacy.

I can see how people can get pissed off by Blade Runner 2049 (and a few of my friends actually have). Still, I find it hard to be offended by it. If anything it depresses me. It reminds me that we’re pushed with increasing speed into the totally insane task of changing the course of humanity, so we can avoid living in a real-world dystopia where brute force, dickheaded antagonism and soulless technological innovation and are the only constants in a terrifyingly chaotic universe.

To my own surprise, I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this movie despite seeing it twice. I’d love to give you a clear-cut answer along the lines of ‘it’s really great’ or ‘it’s embarrassingly bad’, but I can only say It’s mind-blowingly great in some respects, but kinda half-assed and sophomoric in others. Which is more or less what I have to say about the original, so I guess everything is as it should be.

Interestingly, the original Blade Runner got crap reviews when it first came out in 1982. 2049 being so ahead of its time that I just don’t fully get could be within the realms of possibility. Maybe Villeneuve’s sequel will be to your generation what Fritz Lang’s ‘Metropolis’ (1910) is to us. It manages the unlikely feat of being a beautiful, depthless void favoring form over substance, as well as a deep-seated visual poem on the intersection between technology and humanity all at the same time. The fact that it can be both may be too much for my binary, early 21^st century pea brain to handle. I might even have to watch it a third time to see if I can make more sense of it all. Maybe that’s what Blade Runner is: a beautiful, confusing mess of conflicting energies.

Wherever you are, whether it’s your version of cyberspace or somewhere on an off-world colony, I sincerely hope it hasn’t aged too poorly and that you’re able to watch it without feeling embarrassed for your early 21^st century ancestors. Who will probably all be gone by the time you read this.

Like inactive Google+ accounts deleted from the internet.

 

 

 

Dear 2120,

One of my main worries about this extremely one-sided correspondence is that you’ll have no idea what the hell I’m talking about. To that end, I’ve decided to merge a contemporary, cultural phenomenon known as Game of Thrones with Special Request’s latest junglist piano house banger in the attempt to accurately convey how music can make people feel about things in 2017.

Picture the scene: you’ve been walking for ages in an unforgiving winter wasteland with only the obstinate, smart-alecky interjections of a hideously scarred, smelly sociopath called The Hound to keep you company. The quest: acquire a hissing, undead corpse for the Dragon Queen. It’s the only way she’ll ever believe there’s an army of White Walkers coming to kill life itself. Things go awry at some point and you end up in the middle of a frozen lake surrounded by a vast phalanx of hungry zombies in various stages of rot and decay. The Hound is a belligerent fuckhead, so he throws rocks at your enemy, which ends up setting everything in motion, including the patch-eyed, Lord of Light servant’s flaming sword.

Enter Special Request’s ‘Brainstorm’:

 

As the undead army approaches, you press play on your medieval/fantasy soundsystem to get pumped for battling the Night King’s army of skeletal reprobates with your boss weapon forged from newly excavated dragonstone.

 

The booming kick makes the rocky foundation you’re standing on reverberate with the golden age of rave – and you have to slap some sense into the ginger wildling to keep him from busting trippy, Fiorucci Made me Hardcore/ 90s warehouse moves. The dead-eyed freaks come at you in droves and the Kool Keith sample eggs everyone on. You’re putting up a formidable fight, swords singing and gleaming in the pale winter light, White Walker heads fly left and right. At some point, though, you run out of steam and the Walkers start eating your buddy’s face and pulling people into the lake.

But then. A soaring, HI-NRG piano riff accompanied by slaying diva vocals lights up the sky; the Dragon Queen Khaleesi has arrived on her surly dragon to save your ass and incinerate the enemy. You barely manage to hang on to the scaly beast at it leaves and in your mind’s eye you can’t help but notice how Paul Woolford’s hardcore barnstormer of a track makes the perfect soundtrack for fighting off White Walker’s with a flaming sword.

If you’re a connoisseur of popular culture in the 2010s, this will all make perfect sense. If you’re not, I suggest you start reading up on things. Some people have given up on GOT here. They don’t know what they’re missing.

‘Brainstorm’ by Special Request is out now on Houndstooth. 

Dear 2120,

I can’t speak to the newsworthiness of this in relation to people living a hundred years from now. All I know is that few sci-fi writers have managed to mess so masterfully with my head as Philip K. Dick, which makes the appearance of a trailer promoting a TV show based on a range of the volatile writer’s short stories something of an event here in my present. When the space head who dreamt up shadowy, literary masterpieces like ‘Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep’ gets his small screen debut, you can’t not post about it. At least not if you’re a nerd like me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=142&v=S_WKZSy1mDQ

The trailer isn’t exactly mind-blowing, and it looks like they might have borrowed a little too heavily from Black Mirror, but I’ll reserve final judgment for when ‘Philip K. Dick’s Electric Dreams’ lands in my digital entertainment system.

Dear 2120,

Grasping the bigger, more significant perspectives of your era can sometimes be a challenge when all you have at your disposal is the sluggish, old human sensory apparatus. Our 2017 brains have limited processing capabilities, which makes it difficult to comprehend and analyze the total sum of everything that goes on around us. When you’re caught in the hurricane of all these overwhelming, hectic impulses and impressions, your memory is compromised and your ability to make connections between cultural, technological and political events is stretched beyond its means like a cheap balloon enlarged by the ruddy cheeks of an overzealous 7-year-old.

However, some people, particularly certain science-fiction writers, are blessed with the ability to make those connections, enabling them to process the relevant information of the present and make startlingly accurate predictions about the future. Cases in point are George Orwell’s “Nineteen Eighty-Four“, Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World” and, as it was just highlighted in the New Yorker yesterday, Octavia Butler’s 1998 novel ‘Parable of the Talents.’

I have to admit that I’d never heard of Butler (despite Queen Beyoncé mining Octavia for inspiration on her latest album), but that’s an oversight I intend to rectify posthaste. As Abby Aguirre puts it:

‘In the ongoing contest over which dystopian classic is most applicable to our time, Octavia Butler’s “Parable” books may be unmatched.’

Lately, with the rise of Trump, people have been falling over themselves in the quest to name the classic dystopian book that most aptly describes the present ‘Trumpified’ moment. Orwell’s media-controlled totalitarianism and Huxley’s culture held captive by trivial hedonism are inevitable science-fictional touchstones, but maybe Octavia Butler’s ‘prescient vision of a zealot elected to make America great again’ (actual words) is the novel that got it right. In ‘Parable of the Talents’:

‘The Donner Administration has written off science, but a more immediate threat lurks: a violent movement is being whipped up by a new Presidential candidate, Andrew Steele Jarret, a Texas senator and religious zealot who is running on a platform to “make American great again.’

In 2120, you might be asking yourself why we’re not doing anything if some people can see the train hurtling at us at breakneck speed. I can only say: good question. At the moment, a lot of people don’t really seem to care what smart novelists have to say.

Dear 2120,

Thought I’d share a newish track with you. I can’t decide if it’s really stupid or really great or an interesting mix of the two – which might be what makes it really great, to be honest. It’s been a while since I’ve heard news from Bullion, and Blue Pedro is an interesting proposition to say the least. Regardless of what you think of the music, I can’t help thinking that making a track, which sounds like the next Hobbit movie (in which Gandalf and Bilbo throw caution to the wind, venturing out to sea for a rowdy knees-up with their jolly dwarf brethren) is a pretty ballsy move. After more than half a decade of moody techno ruling the airwaves, this shines a joyful little light on my Monday. Have a listen:

 

Maybe it’s just the jam you need to set your Mars-based graduation party on fire?

Dear 2120,

Permit me, if you will, to intervene in your daily routine, which might involve managing an army of problem-solving artificial intelligence serfs utilizing vast amounts of accumulated data in the efforts to overcome the many challenges thrust upon you by us, your cerebrally impaired ancestors. That is, if the futurist predictions of my next interviewee turn out to be true.

Lars Holme Larsen.

On that note, I’d like to introduce you to my former employer and one of 2017’s very best designers: the award-winning Lars Holme Larsen, former Head of Design at KiBiSi and the current Founding Head of Design at Kilo. Other than being a world-class creative responsible for products like AIAIAI’s prize-winning TMA-2 Modular headphones, Carlsberg’s biodegradable Green Fiber Bottle and a diverse range of other bold, aesthetically sustainable design, Lars is also a very reflective man who spends a lot of time anticipating what the future might bring and how to go about meeting the inevitable challenges. You can probably guess why I’d like to talk to this guy.

A proud father of three, he has vested interests in creating a future where the next generation can grow up without having to navigate a gnarly, sci-fi-dystopian scenario. This has made Lars steer his design company, Kilo, in a socially responsible direction that could have lasting, positive impact on our resource-depleting consumption through forward-thinking, design-driven innovation.

Other than that, Lars’s products have this rad, iconic and timeless character to them. An innate, archetypal quality that comes with labouring incessantly over them and tweaking every little detail for a vast number of hours. This makes them look like they could last for the next 1000 years and survive several apocalypses. I mean, look at them:

AIAIAI’s TMA-2 Modular Headphones.

Bulbul’s Oblong watch. 

The packaging for the TMA-2 Modular headphone system.

The Bend lamp. 

Despite his somewhat grave concerns for the future, talking to Lars actually makes me feel sort of hopeful. Like everything’s gonna be alright. If it all goes according to the Kilo plan, at least, I’d say his game-changing take on idea- and solution-driven design will have positive repercussions that you should be able to feel all the way up to 2120.

Could you start out by introducing yourself and your design philosophy to our future readers? One thing that’s stuck with me is your concept of aesthetic sustainability.

Aesthetic sustainability is actually a philosophy that grew out of the Danish design tradition. It’s about creating a product with a certain aesthetic and quality that we perceive as appealing. We can see it as a part of our daily lives; today, tomorrow, in 5 years and in 10 years. That’s how the concept of the ‘classic’ came to be. A certain level of quality is required to survive. Or that you can update, make repairs, reupholster it and so on. I’m pretty taken with that product cycle. Designing the product that’s needed, as opposed to just designing a product. The one that you max out on all parameters, making it the best that you can get or the standard in its category.t was easier to design an aesthetically sustainable chair in the 50s because of the simple fact there weren’t that many different chairs then. Today, it’s been varied to a degree where there’s an overwhelming abundance of stuff, and you probably don’t need that many new chairs. Unless you can design a better chair.

The Scoop chair from +Halle designed by KiBiSi.

Generally, the biggest challenge right now is the speed with which we consume. There was a time when we would get a leather jacket and a pair of jeans, and we never really had to replace them. At some point, people started going: ‘Hey, we can sell that stuff.’ That’s when you started having two fashion seasons. Then there were four seasons. And now you get the feeling that they launch something new every week. For me, that’s one of the biggest ‘stealers.’ The way we’ve taught humanity to consume. Because we’re slowly but surely digging our own grave. I come from that cycle, but I’ve tried to take Kilo into a different direction, which means that we say no to a lot of clients and invest more in products and companies that can make a difference in the world.

At step in the right direction: Designed by Kilo and made from sustainably sourced wood fiber, Carlsberg’s new Green Fiber Bottle creates 0% waste. 

So time in a crucial factor in all this? The speed of consumption is the biggest challenge in creating sustainable design?

Yes, because the cycle is accelerating. You can interrupt it in two ways; either the consumer does it, meaning that they have to refuse to consume at the current speed. The other way is for companies to find a way of slowing down the rate and still make money. The thing is that there are commercial interests invested in the contemporary cycle of consumption. If we don’t buy all the shit they throw at us it stops. But maybe it isn’t a case of one or the other, maybe it’s a case of both. Consumers should be aware of the resources that we’re sitting on, and the way we manage it. The problem is that we all want what new and what’s fresh. But do we really have to have a new phone every year?Producing these kinds of products leaves a relatively large footprint. When I look at what’s going on at the moment, I feel fortunate that I’ve been born in a good place on this planet. With good fortune, comes responsibility. And when you’re sitting on the resources, it’s only fair that you carry a bigger share of the burden and give back.

 

‘..maybe AI is actually what might save us. For example, discovering the cure for cancer is within foreseeable reach. The scientific process is accelerating, and if we get much better and effective at treating the accumulated data through AI, who’s to say that we can’t solve similar problems within a year – instead of, say, 10 or 20 years?’

 

Looking at recent development in a positive light, maybe AI is actually what might save us. For example, discovering the cure for cancer is within foreseeable reach. The scientific process is accelerating, and if we get much better and effective at treating the accumulated data through AI, who’s to say that we can’t solve similar problems within a year – instead of, say, 10 or 20 years? But ultimately, this also creates a huge problem if people don’t leave Earth. We’re 7 billion people now and we’ve fucked it up. If that number keeps on rising at the same pace without the corresponding number the other way, you’re looking at insurmountable, fundamental challenges relating to how we live. All of this makes 2120 an interesting concept. I’m basically what you could call a decent person. I don’t get a kick out of cheating, I don’t think it’s cool to trash things. I believe in working in a conscientious way with what you’ve been given within the existing framework. And I have to live with how I work, which means that certain things probably take longer – and they don’t become extreme since it’s all placed in the middle somewhere to make all the ends meet.

Is being a decent person something you think will still be relevant in 2120? Are you an optimist as far as that stuff in concerned?

A quick glance at the world would seem to suggest that values are slipping. But I believe in love as a fundamental value that ties people together. Part of this is being inclusive and getting close to other people. This is my reservation about social media; it makes you think that you’re close to other people, it makes you think that people love you – but you can be damn sure that most of them don’t.

 

‘When I design I want to create the standard by which all other designs are met. I’d like to create icons that live forever. Then again, it’s hard to say what the future brings. It’s essentially a dream.’

 

Tell me about the thoughts behind AIAIAI’s TMA-2 Modular?

The TMA-1 which we designed in 2009 has now been transformed into TMA-2 Modular. Working from a circular approach, we’re meeting the consumer in a way which was totally new at the outset. It’s essentially about getting the user to buy into the product by constructing their own, unique headphone from a range of components. This flexibility creates less waste since we don’t have to go keep coming out with entire headphones in a steady succession. We can just introduce new parts and components. This means that consumers don’t have to throw an entire product on the scrap heap, they can just upgrade, making it a concept that’s much less harmful to the environment while simultaneously being better for the bottom line.

To me, that’s an ingenious way of securing the product’s relevance for the future – by making environmental concerns and business interests coalesce.

Yes, to a certain degree. But when we’re all running around with an implant in our jaw, we’ll probably be looking back and saying: ’Hey man, do you remember that time when we all rocked headphones?’ By which I mean to say that this concept also has a lifespan that stops if we look further ahead. But you have to play the cards you’re dealt within your given framework. For us, this has been a way of creating an innovative solution that’s good for business while being socially conscious.

Grime rapper, Novelist, rocking the TMA-2 Modular headphones in his London studio. 

And it’s not just about headphones. This can apply to other industries as well. Maybe it’s not that smart to just make something out of straw, you know? You have to design products that meet the market. But this is about how we conceive systems around consumption. I personally think it’s a good idea, plain and simple. Designing is about sampling different bits of culture, and I think it works when these bits come together in the right way. That’s when you get products that stand the test of time, like the TMA-1 headphone. It’s a powerful link between different bits that doesn’t go away. Ticking off all these different boxes that creates the good idea, is what it’s about for me. When I design I want to create the standard by which all other designs are met. I’d like to create icons that live forever. Then again, it’s hard to say what the future brings. It’s essentially a dream.

 

‘Nothing we make is ever 100% perfect. Reality sucks.’

 

But you have still have the ambition, right?

Of course. When we’re in the studio, we set the bar high and we go for creating unparalleled design. Still, nothing we make is ever 100% perfect. Reality sucks. There are so many parameters you have to contend with. The end result of the design process is the best you can possibly get – within the context existing at the time. If we talk about design in 2120, I don’t think TMA-2 Modular will still be around. But I think it’s in a museum somewhere. TMA-1 is at SFMOMA in their permanent design collection and I hope that the way in which TMA-2 Modular is conceived might have some kind of place in history.

AIAIAI’s TMA-1 at SFMOMA

Which of your products do you think stands the biggest chance of making it to 2120?

Assuming we haven’t trashed the planet completely, it’s… This is going to sound lame, but the best design I’ve made are my kids. If we include them in the design category, I can tell you that they’re much more work (laughs). With respect to my other designs, I hope that some of the products we created have helped spur positive developments. In terms of relevance and the future, we’ve just designed a product called Woobi, which is an anti-pollution mask for children.

Designing for the next gen: designed by Kilo, the Woobi Play anti-pollution mask for children filters at least 95% of dangerous airborne particulate matter. 

If we can say one thing for certain, it’s that we’re not going to get less pollution in the coming years. So that might still be around since it’s made for the next generation. Woobi is part of a general shift in our strategy, which is to stop the design of superfluous products and start to react to a rapidly changing world with appropriate products. Obviously, changing things is not going to happen from one day until the next. Considering the fashion industry and its all-consuming need for newness, behavioral change is a slow, incremental process.

Going back to artificial intelligence, is that something you could see yourself being a design partner on?

Possibly. I think that the human brain can only invent and design so much during its lifetime. If we’re to survive as a species, I don’t think it’s the human brain that will answer the pressing questions related to overcoming the daunting challenges. That will likely be facilitated by AI. The fact that you can crunch accumulated data and work at a rate, which is out of the range of human capacity presents undeniable advantages. In the efforts to fix problems that we created, but are unable to fix, I think artificial intelligence might be a significant factor.

 

‘I think design in the future will be used as a tool to solve problems and overcome challenges for humanity.’

 

This is a hard question, but what do you think good design will look like in a hundred years?

First of all, the aesthetic notion, the concept of beauty, which we currently operate with is firmly placed at the top of the Hierarchy of Needs. It’s only relevant in a world where we don’t really have any challenges. I think design in the future will be used as a tool to solve problems and overcome challenges for humanity. Going forward, our obsession with how we look and what kind of clothes we wear will be completely irrelevant.

At some point in my career it became extremely important to me to not be one of those designers that just added to the consumption party. Saying no to certain things comes with the territory when you think in those terms. I’m not an artist. I don’t have a need to create just for the sake of it. I do, however, want to take part in making things better by creating solutions for the ambitious clients that we work with.

That sounds like it might be the future of design.

I sure hope so. It might not be the easiest way to make money, but if I can balance these elements in way, so that I can make decent living for my family, and take part in creating a better world, I’m happy. In my heart of hearts I believe there’s a universality that can last into the future, and I think it’s based on creating essential solutions instead of just random solutions.

Berghain-resident DJ, Marcel Dettmann, using the TMA-2 headphones. 

I am not an artist, I see my job more as a midwife helping the design to evolve. We only add the ingredients needed – no more, no less. I’d rather clean out and find the fundamental substance. You have to work at this. When you’ve invested enough love and hours into a given product, it starts to take on a universal and iconic character that straight-up minimalism just doesn’t have. That’s the goal; to establish that universality. An example of this is the Green Fiber Bottle we designed for Carlsberg, which is 100% biodegradable and has the potential to create lasting change by way of its circular concept. To me that has universal relevance.

Any last remarks for our readers in 2120?

In 2017, we’re at a point where things are so fucked that it can’t be about me or you – it’s about us. There’s something very wrong about the richest 1% of the world population owning the same as the 99 % remaining. Creativity has to be focused on improving lives for all of us. We need multinational companies who are interested in creating a better future, and getting consumers interested in changing things.

This interview was translated from Danish into English. Keep up with Lars’s prescient design solutions over at: www.kilodesign.dk  

Dear 2120,

 

This particular letter deals with ‘creativity’, a word with a very special meaning in my present. You see, being creative ranks very highly on the list of prestigious human activity here in 2017. There’s the Creators Project, a medium dedicated to praising the work of, you guessed it, creators. We have various style and design ‘bibles’ like I-D and It’s Nice That churning out whimsical, cutting-edge takes on creativity and youth culture. And then there’s countless art media whose central premise is revering artistry and creative self-expression in its myriad forms.

Artwork via Its Nice That

What these media have in common is their intense preoccupation with the artist as singular genius. Worshipping the notion of the auteur, they put creativity on pedestals and elevate individuals or limited groups of people to ‘Godlike geniuses’, propping them up with superior takes on the human condition.

Young Thug with added, oversized halo in Dazed & Confused.

And what’s wrong with that? Isn’t making stuff that makes other people feel a lot of other stuff, sometimes even to the point of them being happy, ecstatic or reflective, a worthy pursuit? Drawing attention to this pursuit would seem a wholesome enterprise.

That is until you consider what kind of world we’re navigating. The context in which these individualist, self-expressive tendencies are revered as the apex of human endeavour. As you’re no doubt keenly aware in 2120, it’s a world that’s straining to keep up with exponential population growth. Where increasingly scarce resources are causing unpredictable conflict and instability. A place filled to the brim with high-risk volatility, leaving little to no room for error, if we’re to turn it all around and create a 2120 in which you, my future-dwelling reader, don’t hate our oblivious, irresponsible guts. Consider this quote from journalist and documentary filmmaker, Adam Curtis, the director of Century of the Self:

‘We look back at past ages and see how things people deeply believed in at the time were actually a rigid conformity that prevented them from seeing important changes that were happening elsewhere. And I sometimes wonder whether the very idea of self-expression might be the rigid conformity of our age. It might be preventing us from seeing really radical and different ideas that are sitting out on the margins—different ideas about what real freedom is, that have little to do with our present-day fetishization of the self. The problem with today’s art is that far from revealing those new ideas to us, it may be actually stopping us from seeing them.

This might be quite a difficult one to get over, but I think this is really important: however radical your message is as an artist, you are doing it through self-expression—the central dominant ideology of modern capitalism. And by doing that, you’re actually far from questioning the monster and pulling the monster down. You’re feeding the monster. Because the more people come to believe that self-expression is the end of everything, is the ultimate goal, the more the modern system of power becomes stronger, not weaker.’

Still from Century of the Self.

While I don’t buy into everything Curtis says or the intermittent, questionable associative leap he sometimes makes, I think he’s very on-point here. Creative self-expression is maintaining the status quo, not subverting it.

For me, the takeaway is this: 2017 is not the time to fuck around with cosy, little, self-expressive experiments that may or may not go somewhere. We have neither the time, nor the resources. Every inconsequential brain fart uttered, is precious energy spent, vital resources squandered, essential opportunity wasted. In the end, it amounts to depletion instead of creation.

In light hereof, I’d like to take a moment to address my contemporaries with a proposition for a new take on contemporary creativity. A take that reintroduces art’s utilitarian dimensions, (which were often castigated and belittled in the the avant-garde manifestos of the 20^th century), favoring the common, function-driven essentials over the abstract, singularly expressive. Because I’m not some borderline, loony-toon, proto-fascist with delusions of grandeur, this is intended as non-coercive, encouraging suggestions and not as a domineering manifesto to live by. It’s nothing more, nothing less than common sense. Common being the operative term here.

Marinetti, the Italian Futurist and proto-fascist.

1) I propose that we push music, and all forms of art and design that don’t contribute to the awareness of the problems we face, firmly off its immortalizing pedestal into the categories of industry, trade and craft. Making pretty things, nice sounds or pleasant installations should no longer be considered creative. Following this logic, a musician is no longer creative by default. She/he is a maker of music performing a societal function. While the skill required to perform said function may be impressive and admirable in its own right, it’s no different to carpentry, plumbing, selling insurance or being a lawyer and should, from here on out, be treated accordingly.

Unless, of course, the music, design or art is made in our common best interest. The new creativity contributes directly to the greater good that is the betterment of everything. Whatever form it takes, it plays its part in creating a future that doesn’t suck.

2) All art and culture that’s deliberately elitist or needlessly academic, rendering it incomprehensible to people who didn’t have the money or means to go to university or art school, may be intelligent, thoroughly researched and nuanced, but in the grand scheme of things it’s also highly irrelevant. If it’s doesn’t, in some universally comprehensible way, contribute to instilling the collective agent that might, for example, recalibrate our consumption habits, then the erudite become the unimportant, the smart become the dumb.

On that note, this isn’t about dumbing things down. It’s about hitting a universal communication chord that brings on board everyone with an interest in the planet not being a worst case scenario hellhole in 30 years. Preaching to the choir is easy. Proselytizing for your convictions is where the real challenge lies.

3) In the Anthropocene, advertising made with the purpose of marketing inessential products should never, in any way, be considered creative. There’s nothing inherently wrong with it. It’s a job and most of us need to make a living in late capitalism. But let’s not pretend that it matters by deeming it creative. Manipulating the truth isn’t creative. Circumventing reality to get people hooked on sugary products or sneakers isn’t creative. To that end, I propose that all high-profile advertising awards be renamed the World Championships in Spraying Air Freshener on the Rotting Corpse of Excessive Consumption.

4) The fundamental conditions of human existence are changing. Just like Freud and Jung, the Theory of Relativity and quantum mechanics changed our core beliefs about our place in the world, bringing about momentous sociocultural shifts in the process, the Anthropocene has thrust a new reality in our unsuspecting faces and one that demands that we change with the change. In the wake of these developments, many of the avant-garde movements of the 20^th century are becoming startlingly irrelevant. Who cares about the free, abstract expression and aesthetic innovations of a tiny, opaque elite in our rapidly deteriorating present? The 20th century avant-garde should be considered children of a naïve era whose recklessness and straight-up ignorance played a significant part in landing us where we are. Childhood is a necessary part of growing up. But we need to become adults and face facts, unpleasant as they may be. If we can somehow harness the modernist movements’ forward-thinking spirit for our purposes, that’s great. But it’s high time we curb our retrospective fascination with self-absorbed 20^th century artists. Despite their undeniable ability for turning a lovely phrase and giving us flights of the feels. The future is collectivist and inclusive; not centred around the arbitrary whims of one person, movement or ideology.

5) Moral and cultural relativism (not to be confused with postmodernism) is the enemy of true creativity. Respecting other people’s entitlement to their viewpoint is fine. However, if that viewpoint contributes directly to the deterioration of our future, it may be entitled to exist, but it must also me fought at every turn and deemed unacceptable by the means available to us. Our era prompts artists to stand up for what they believe in and state it clearly, unequivocally and unambiguously. Playing around with discursive layers, dichotomies, shades of meaning and narrative trickery is a luxury we can’t afford. No hiding behind complexity; it’s time to man or woman up, and step the fuck up.

From your perspective in 2120, stood as I’m now envisioning you, gazing over the lush, terraformed plains of Mars, 2017 must seem like that episode of the Simpsons where they have ‘Do What You Feel Festival’ in the name of creative self-expression and Springfield starts to unravel because no one really feels like doing what they ought to be doing.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xVtRa2Rt5A

 

It’s a slightly deranged, comical farce where everyone runs around throwing their hands up, wearing the internet ‘shruggie’ as a badge of hapless, nihilist pride.

Obviously, this needs to change.

What I’m proposing here is a comprehensive dethroning of inessential creativity, and a restructuring and reprioritization of all things creative. A rewriting and rechanneling of creative energy. As it stands, the word ‘creativity’ and the meaning and hierarchy it generates needs a good, old-fashioned slap upside the head.

As one of the more lucid and conscientious manifestos from the 20^th century, speaking about detrimental decadence in art, puts it:

‘Art is always nourished, consciously or unconsciously – it’s not important – by the absolute of its age. The Contemporary artist’s soul is, in the majority of cases, empty. The Literature of decadence is a literature with no absolute. But man can take no more than a few steps like that. He cannot march forward without a faith because having no faith means having no goal. And marching without a goal is standing still. The artist who declares himself most exasperatedly skeptical and nihilistic is, generally, the one who most desperately needs a myth.’

– José Carlos Mariátegui

So what constitutes creativity in The Anthropocene? Saying what it isn’t is much easier than pinpointing what it is. The thing is that we live in strange times. The transformative movements of the 20th century, like 60 radicals, the Black Panthers, second-wave feminism and the many varieties of the hippie have liberated and changed for the better the lives of millions if not billions of people. You can’t really argue with that.

Then again, we’re at a point in history where something equally transformative needs to happen. Our problems will not be solved by more emancipation and empowerment of the individual. You could actually argue that it has a counterproductive effect since it causes more individualism in our present self-expressive, hyper-capitalist, global setting. I think we can all agree that what’s needed is some kind of empowerment of the collective imagination. We need to get our teenage kicks to global cohesion un an unprecedented scale, to get our rocks off to holding our leaders accountable, to get lit when the moment arrives where we can all agree on one single thing: this shit’s getting out of hand and we have to rethink everything.

So what kind of language, imagery and rhetoric can make an entire globe populated by extremely varying people rally around a single cause? A cause with so many factors, so much complexity, so many loose ends and relative uncertainty that it’s impossible to sum up in a single catchphrase or sentence?

From my perspective, contemporary culture contains transformative potential. It goes without saying that this potential is in no way fully realized. Holly Herndon has the right idea when she makes an album to ‘shine a light on the cooperative nature of the modern world.’ But as much as I love her, she’s too academic, niche and, well, white about it. The Knife are onto a good thing when they deconstruct the live spectacle and its problematic hierarcy with a show focusing on collectivism and audience participation. But their overly precious theatrics and navel-gazing melodrama, make them unlikely to reach anyone but the cultural elite. Hip hop has always been a universally relatable art form and in certain cases a conscientious, no-bullshit observer of political wrongdoing and cultural oppression. But its inherent, fierce individualism mostly just furthers an every-man-for-himself-attitude that inhibits collectivist thinking. David Lynch’s productions conjures up symbols and archetypes from the collective unconscious that moves and resonates with people of all races, nationalities and ages. But his message is too impenetrable, suggestive and opaque. Rave culture makes people from all walks of life come together in time and space. But without a clearly defined objective, it fizzles out in short-lived ecstasy and transient escape from reality.

Still from Mark Leckey’s ‘Fiorucci Made me Hardcore.’

To be honest, I haven’t a fucking clue where to begin to look for creativity that could inspire lasting transformation. But when I do, I’ll be sure to write the answer in a letter. Maybe it’s a mix of all of the above. Or maybe the answer’s just staring me in the proverbial face: the new wave of nonpartisan, sustainability activists, technology-innovators and designers are the new, true creatives.

Okay, I’ll let you get back to your orgy now. Judging by the way things are going here, you could probably use some hard-earned R&R from the clean-up job.