Episode 10
Poul Kjærholm
PK13 (1974)
This chair, with its innovative design that makes the seat appear to float, has its roots in Mies van der Rohe’s iconic “Brno Chair,” which Kjærholm greatly admired. However, the chair was structurally weak against lateral movement due to the separation between the legs and the front part of the seat, and the lack of stretchers on the legs, leading to its discontinuation shortly after its release. The piece in the Oda Collection is an extremely rare model with leather pads on the arms, one of the very few produced. Also, it’s known as EKC13.
On June 29, 2024, the “Poul Kjærholm - Timeless Minimalism – Furniture by a Master of Modern Danish Design from the Oda Collection” exhibition opened at the Panasonic Shiodome Museum of Art in Tokyo. This is the first solo Kjærholm exhibition at a museum in Japan. Mr. Oda said, “Since this may be our only chance to do this, I poured all my energy into it,” shared his thoughts on Kjærholm, what he hoped to convey through the exhibition, and about the PK13 on display. This time, we bring you the interview in a QA format.
Kjærholm was a designer I had wanted to feature for some time. When the museum approached me, I suggested that Kjærholm, with around 50 pieces in my collection, would be a perfect fit for the approx. 330 square meters floor space. When I told the museum that I wanted to ask architect Tsuyoshi Tane, who is active in Paris, to design the exhibition, they said it might be difficult given Mr. Tane’s busy schedule. But I personally requested it, and he graciously accepted.
At the opening ceremony. From left: Higashikawa Town Mayor, Mr. Kikuchi, Mr. Tane, Mr. Oda, and Chairman Fujita of the Asahikawa Furniture Industry Cooperative.
Mr. Tane was a student at Tokai University in Asahikawa, Hokkaido. Although he was in the Department of Architecture, he often attended my lectures in the Department of Design. He was a brilliant and dedicated student, so much so that after utilizing the university’s study abroad program (which is typically six months) to study at the HDK School of Design in Sweden, he even directly requested the university to allow him to study for an additional six months at Chalmers University of Technology. This was unprecedented, but the faculty council approved it, and he fulfilled his wish. Although we didn’t interact much during his student days, after becoming an architect, we often met due to the work related to Asahikawa furniture and Higashikawa town, and I have always closely followed and supported his career.
Winning the competition for the Estonian National Museum was a big factor. I resonated with his approach of thoroughly researching the history of a place and confronting it head-on. For this exhibition as well, I was confident that his sensitivity would create an absolutely wonderful space, so I decided to take a back seat. "Trust the young to lead," as they say (laughs). If I said anything at the beginning, he might try to meet those needs. So, I basically made no requests. If you entrust something to someone, it's better to trust them completely. And as expected, the first plan he proposed was brilliant, requiring only minor adjustments. When I saw the completed venue the other day, I felt that he had truly become the eyes and mind of Kjærholm.
For instance, he divided the space into three sections: 1. Kjærholm’s upbringing and origins, 2. Furniture design, and 3. Modern Kjærholm works. His method of displaying the works, including allowing visitors to sit in Kjærholm’s chairs while viewing the museum's Rouault Collection, was unique. He also had the idea of making the entrance and exit the same so that visitors could view the works again from a different angle on their way back, which was a novel concept.
Visitors took turns sitting and enjoying both the chairs and the Rouault artworks. (From the exhibition "Poul Kjaerholm: Timeless Minimalism" / Photo courtesy of Panasonic Shiodome Museum of Art / Photo by Yukie Mikawa)
The second space is a black room where the works are illuminated and seem to float. The pieces are placed on display stands with varying heights and no glass cases, allowing visitors to get close and see even the delicate wood grain on the tables. The Danish ambassador, who attended the preview, couldn't resist touching them. Oh, but don't write that (laughs). While touring the venue, the ambassador said to me, "Mr. Oda, you are a design ambassador connecting Japan and Denmark." Those words made me truly happy.
I hope visitors will also pay close attention to the venue design, such as the display stands, which are made as thin as possible, slightly detached from the wall, and cantilevered. This approach is completely architectural. Mr. Tane said, "The exhibition should be minimal, and I want the works to speak for themselves," and suggested that instead of using panels, the commentary on the works could be heard in my voice. Moreover, since the speakers are invisible, it must have felt like the voice was coming from the works themselves, right? This was achieved by installing sheet speakers under the display stands. Additionally, the edges of the stands bear the few words left by Kjærholm. In every aspect of the venue, the spirit of Kjærholm’s minimalism is reflected.
The exhibits are highlighted by eliminating surrounding noise. (From the exhibition "Poul Kjaerholm: Timeless Minimalism" / Photo courtesy of Panasonic Shiodome Museum of Art / Photo by Yukie Mikawa)
First of all, Kjærholm is still not well-known in Japan. Even Finn Juhl, who I talked about in a previous episode (see Episode 5 for details), was relatively unknown in the world, including in Denmark, but his name spread among the Japanese thanks to the "Finn Juhl Memorial Exhibition," which later led to a renewed appreciation of his work in Denmark as well. Similarly, I hope that this exhibition will convey the charm of Kjærholm's rigorous and delicate design to many people. Although he lived only 51 years, he left behind many great works. After all, his graduation project was commercialized, and it continues to be cherished and produced to this day. Borrowing the words of the curator at the Shiodome Museum, he was truly a "precocious prodigy." I believe Kjærholm will gain worldwide attention from now on. I hope this exhibition contributes to his reevaluation.
Yes, I drew about 130 illustrations, including new ones for the pieces we acquired recently, as well as some that were missing. But you know, it's no longer the era of hand-drawing. It's difficult to find 0.1mm Rotring pens these days. I had to draw with 0.2mm pens and then shave them down with a cutter to make them finer. I've drawn over 10,000 illustrations so far, but these days, my eyesight is failing, my hand doesn't move as it used to since injuring my finger, and the pens I need are discontinued—it's a triple hardship (laughs). But since Kjærholm's designs are so strict, I had to draw them meticulously (laughs). I also borrowed a few missing pieces from my friend and collector, William Duel, to complete the display.
The third space displays 145 original illustrations drawn by Mr. Oda. (From the exhibition "Poul Kjaerholm: Timeless Minimalism" / Photo courtesy of Panasonic Shiodome Museum of Art / Photo by Yukie Mikawa)
He suffered an injury to his left hip as a child, which caused him to limp for the rest of his life. Perhaps it was this handicap that fostered his rebellious spirit, leading him to pursue industrial design during the heyday of handicrafts in the 1950s. He sought to reconcile science with his own aesthetic sensibilities. While designers like Wegner, Finn Juhl, and Ole Wanscher gained popularity for their handcrafted furniture with organic forms made from natural materials, Kjærholm aimed for mass production using steel, marble, glass, and aluminum. However, his perfectionism, which demanded precision down to 0.1mm, proved to be an obstacle. The wood grain had to always be parallel, the steel and leather of the highest quality, and all components were crafted by top-tier artisans in their respective fields—woodwork by Ejner Pedersen, metalwork by Healf Paulsen, and upholstery by Ivan Schlechter. This exacting approach hindered the progress of mass production.
I believe that it is this elegance and precariousness within his strictness that makes his designs so captivating and earns him the title of "furniture architect." The inorganic, geometric beauty, the ultimate combination of straight and curved lines, and the tension-filled forms that minimize elements to the extreme—all of these, along with the contrast in material usage, are truly beautiful. To make it clearer, let me give you an example from the opposite end of the spectrum: I don’t like it when young people wear jeans with holes in them (laughs). There’s that funny story about a kid coming home and finding that their grandma had mended the holes while they were asleep (Mr. Oda and Nishikawa burst out laughing).
I discovered it around 1980 at a shop in Tokyo, right around the time I established the chair research lab, "Chairs." When I asked if they would be willing to let me have it, the shop staff told me, "It’s not for sale..." They wanted to keep it because it was a rare and valuable piece. I gave up on it that day, but as I continued to visit the shop, I became friendly with one of the executives. Gradually, a relationship of trust developed, and they eventually recognized what I was trying to do and decided to let me have it. I believe they judged that the chair would be properly preserved and utilized as research material if it came to me. Who knows what might have happened to a single chair owned by a company as times and circumstances changed—it might have ended up discarded somewhere. I’m proud to say that it was best for this chair to come to me. As you can see, the "PK13" is not only rare but also extremely delicate, so sitting on it is strictly prohibited. If it were to break, no one could repair it. Particularly, there are probably only about four chairs with leather pads on the arms. While a padless version might occasionally appear at auction, there are so many passionate collectors in Denmark and the United States that I can’t imagine how high the price would go (laughs).
July 4th, 2024 Centpure (Higashikawa)
Interviewer: Kano Nishikawa
After the interview
When I called at the beginning of June, I was told, "There’s not a single day free in June," so the interview was scheduled for early July. The professor had just returned from the opening of the "Poul Kjærholm Exhibition," and I was able to hear fresh stories about the event’s launch. Mr. Tane considers Asahikawa his "second hometown," and Mr. Oda is a mentor to him, albeit from a different department. When he was asked by the professor to design the exhibition venue, he said he "had no choice but to say yes" (laughs). This rare collaboration between mentor and student is also a highlight of the exhibition. I had the opportunity to visit the venue and conduct an interview on the opening day, but after hearing today’s behind-the-scenes stories, I’m eager to see it again. I’m already planning to revisit in September, towards the end of the exhibition period.
Copywriter Kano Nishikawa
After working at a design office in Tokyo and Sapporo, I started working as a freelancer in Asahikawa in 2001. Until now, I have been involved in the production of advertisements for local companies and organizations, including Asahikawa Furniture. I have known Mr. Oda for about 30 years through my work.
The interview usually lasts about two hours. Mr. Oda kindly lends me his seat to make it easier to take notes.
In the underground passage of the Panasonic Tokyo Shiodome Building, where the museum is located, there’s a large lighted signboard like this.
