Meaningful Minimalism

I’m wearing yellow in honor of Jupiter,” declared design-cum-business maven Stephanie Odegard. The Minneapolis native was in her twelfth-floor studio in the New York Design Center, cosseted in a modest office near two large showrooms that feature her acclaimed carpets and furniture. Odegard Inc. has six sales offices in the United States, operations in Nepal, and twelve thousand employees worldwide. She pays her workers a living wage, sponsors schools, and is one of the forces behind Rugmark, a program that certifies carpets made without child labor. But the strong impression one gets of Odegard is not of a capitalist titan but of a metaphysical seeker. Odegard’s company earns more than a million dollars a month, yet she takes the time to don a yellow scarf in observance of Jupiter’s Day, which, according to ancient astrological tradition, is Thursday.
Although Odegard “craves color,” she describes herself as a design minimalist. Her carpets are quiet seas of aquamarine, cerulean, tanzanite, and scarlet, sometimes with dashes of black at the borders. When she does include patterns, they are often subtle, just shades different than the background hues. Her home is a 1,200-square-foot Soho loft that she strives to keep empty. “You have this impulse to say ‘Here’s an empty space, I should put in a chair.’ It’s easy to fall into that, but I don’t want a house that’s filled. I can’t stand kitsch,” Odegard said, with a shudder and wave of the hand. “I live in fear of people giving me little presents. I don’t like lots of small things.”
Yet her office, where she spends most of her waking hours, is filled with small things. This is where a secondary aesthetic comes into play: object as memento. There are many gifts on the shelves, including a miniature collection of brown clay houses and temples arranged like a Nepalese Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood. On a lower shelf sits a set of four white ceramic cups from India, each painted with abstract, blue flowers. There are also ceramic, glass, and silver vases as well as many awards and a few framed photos of Odegard with the Dalai Lama.
Odegard came to design for unusual and idealistic reasons. She longed to see the world and make it better. In interviews, she often speaks not of design but of the need for people to be well nourished and educated. She travels the globe trying to accomplish these missions, creating jobs and buying materials. The gifts and oddities she’s collected—the spinning toy tops kept in a vase, the metal inlaid mirror of the Hindu elephant-headed god, Lord Ganesh—represent alliances, friendships, and business well conducted. Having them around creates an atmosphere of positivity. By her own account, Odegard travels so lightly that she often runs out of clothes, but you get the distinct feeling she would dutifully lug home a bag of bricks if they were given to her by someone she liked or attached to a meaningful event. Suddenly the paradox of the minimalist with an office full of things makes sense. To seek objects is noisome; but to reject what arrives is to court bad karma.


Posted

in

by

Tags:

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.