A desk like a typeface

Anniina Koivu: The duality of work is something we’ve all had to think about recently: where and how to best work at home?
Ronan Bouroullec: Yes, in fact, the idea for this desk emerged during the pandemic when everyone had to rethink their homes and use them as primary workspaces. Initially, I was interested in room dividers. But my ideas evolved into thinking about a desk. It’s a simple idea, something that I’d been considering for years – a desk flexible enough to fit into a wide range of domestic spaces.

Your work on flexible furniture goes back twenty years. Then, flexibility was the starting point for the Joyn table. Your first product with your brother Erwan for Vitra, Joyn was inspired by the family table: an oversized shared platform that promotes collaboration and flexibility. Later came Tyde, a sit-stand table equipped with height-adjustment mechanisms.
Yes, in comparison to the first large piece and the second, very technical project, this time I looked for simplicity. A reduction of the desk to a form that is essential and visceral. I stripped everything down, until I got to something I like to call a ‘naked solution’ – just a thin wooden surface on legs. The desk provides enough surface to hold a laptop, some papers, and a screen or books. In order to fit into different environments, the design had to be a bit more delicate. It had to avoid a typical office-like look.

Were you influenced by any classical desks during the design process?
The design draws from my thirty years of experience in the field. But there was one particular influence: Jean Prouvé's Compas Direction desk from 1953 with its iconic splayed, V-shaped legs. We simplified the geometry further, trying to reach a harmony in the smooth composition – like in music, where a voice and a guitar can create a beautiful melody.

So, the harmony in the table comes from the combination of the aluminium base and the plywood top?
Yes, exactly. The lightness of the plywood contrasts with the thickness and movement of the metal feet. If you look at the table from the side, there is balance between the elements, and the table has a certain movement to it. It could read like typography.

The table is called ‘Courier’, which is also the name of a typeface. Monospaced, the slab serif font has block-like strokes that give it a sturdy appearance.
Yes, and similarly, there’s a certain charm in the way the lines of the table come together, not in perfect 90-degree angles, but in a more fluid way, much like the letters of Courier.

The typeface Courier was commissioned by IBM and designed by Howard Bud Kettler in the mid-1950s, and is best known as the typewriter’s standard type. Later, the Courier font became the industry standard for computer programming. As Kettler, the font’s designer, once put it: ‘A letter can be just an ordinary messenger. Or it can be the courier, which radiates dignity, prestige and stability.’ It’s a description that could also be applied to your desk, which shares its name.
There’s a beauty in the simplicity of shapes and proportions, much like the rhythm in typography.

In your design work, we can always recognise a certain curvature – a delicate precision, such as the bent plywood top of the desk.
There’s no set formula. It’s really about finding a balance between simplicity and charm. Charm is hard to define, but it’s what gives an object personality.

So, what’s a good curve?
A good curve is like a body – you should want to touch it, to slide your hand along it. It’s about continuity, with no interruptions or bumps. It also has to be functional, supporting weight and tension. But beyond function, a good curve adds a touch of sensuality, a certain grace that makes the object feel alive. It’s a mix of stability and subtle movement.

Let’s talk about your process. The public has recently become more aware of your ongoing fine art drawing practice. How does drawing influence your design?
It’s a very intimate practice, extremely free, in the sense that when I start, I don’t know what I’m going to do, it’s not something I plan. It’s instinctive. It’s like meditation. I start with a blank sheet of paper and then lines, lines and lines until I create a form. Then when it’s finished, I forget about it.

Your free drawing practice happens in parallel to your daily design work. What about the other kind of drawing you do? Namely, the numerous sketches that lead to a final design project?
Yes, for me, there are two types of drawing: One is a tool to help me search for clarity in my mind. These are intuitive, never calculated. The other is a way to visualise and refine a design idea. These are sketches for research, and these have a goal: to drive my thoughts forward, and to take notes along the way.
In the past, I would do numerous of drawings to understand the proportions and curves of a design. Now, with experience, I can shape the design in my mind, almost like creating a mental file, and get closer to the final object with fewer sketches. It’s a natural evolution. Remember the quote: ‘A design is as good as you can describe it on the phone’?

Yes, the famous quote by Italian designer Vico Magistretti. He described good design as something that does not need to be drawn, but can simply be described in words.
After hundreds, thousands of sketches and mockups, you develop a mental library of shapes, curves, lines, angles and proportions. Earlier I’d file a drawing on a computer, now I can do files in my mind, and these are not far from the actual final object. Now, I can evaluate something by simply feeling it – like when I sit on a chair prototype. I trust my instincts more. I sit in it and feel it, I look at it less.

It sounds like a much more relaxed process.
Indeed! It’s interesting, because now I don’t really need to make sketches for projects anymore; I simply see them. That’s the benefit of being an ‘old’ designer. Now, drawing and design are even more separate, for me: I need to draw more and more, and at the same time, I no longer need sketches.

Over the years, you’ve amassed an impressive archive of fine art drawings.
I’ve always been drawing, but for many years it remained more private. Recently, I’ve started to share my art more. Drawing gives me a way to express myself freely, especially when I’m feeling frustrated with the more technical aspects of design – or with the sometimes very long time lapse that occurs between the initial idea and the final product. Drawing is a way for me to escape, and it balances my day.

How do you organise your day?
I deal with objects, spaces, urbanism during the day. I see and talk to people. Then at night, I draw. It’s something I do completely on my own, outside of my studio, in the kitchen or living room – or on a desk at home.