"In Canada, design still receives remarkably little recognition"
The Canadian government's plan to restore the prime minister's residence in Ottawa highlights the chronic under-appreciation of Canadian design and its potential as a source of national pride, writes Thom Fougere.
Canadians tend to look outward for cultural validation before recognizing excellence at home. Our actors are embraced only after succeeding in Hollywood. Our musicians often require international acclaim before we celebrate them as icons. The same has often been true of our architecture and design.
And for many outside Canada, the recently announced competition to revamp 24 Sussex Drive (pictured), the building where Canadian prime ministers have lived since the 1950s, requires an explanation.
Design is rarely acknowledged as a cultural or economic force in Canada
When The New York Times recently referred to the building as "Canada's White House", it revealed something larger than the state of neglect the official residence has fallen into. Unlike the White House in the United States or 10 Downing Street in the United Kingdom, 24 Sussex has never become a shorthand for the country it represents.
As studios compete to restore the building, I am noticing how little emphasis has been placed on design as a discipline and the role it plays in shaping Canada's cultural fabric. The competition structure is open to Canadian design-build teams, but there is no similar requirement that the furnishings, lighting or materials showcase Canadian design and manufacturing.
As a designer, I often find myself thinking about these questions of Canadian identity whenever Canada undertakes significant national projects, which reflect how we see ourselves and what we choose to value. Canada is simply too vast, too geographically dispersed and too culturally diverse to produce one easily recognizable aesthetic. That diversity, I believe, is one of our greatest strengths, but it has also made it difficult to build a unified design identity or advocate for the profession with one voice.
At the moment, Canada is experiencing a remarkable moment in design. Our furniture, interiors and industrial design have become increasingly influential cultural exports – Bocci, A-N-D Light, Lambert&Fils, Studio Paolo Ferrari, Yabu Pushelburg to name a few. More than ever, Canadian designers are attracting international attention. There is a generation of talented architects, interior designers, furniture makers and craftspeople producing work from coast to coast that stands comfortably alongside the best in the world.
Yet within Canada, design still receives remarkably little recognition.
Unlike many European countries that actively invest in design as both a cultural asset and an economic driver, Canada offers little institutional recognition for the profession. Designers often struggle to find public funding because "design" frequently falls between categories – existing somewhere between art, craft and architecture. Despite shaping nearly every object and environment we encounter every day, design is rarely acknowledged as a cultural or economic force in Canada.
Canada has no shortage of talent. What we lack is confidence in our own creative voice
Meanwhile, nations around the world have demonstrated what investment and support in creative industries can accomplish. South Korea has transformed music, film and food into globally recognized cultural exports through government-led funding and support programs, bringing its culture to the rest of the world. Scandinavian countries have built international reputations on design and architecture through collective recognition, celebration and institutional support.
These cultural industries did not emerge by accident. They were championed over long periods of time, and understood as expressions of national identity and economic force within each of their distinct countries. Montreal's recognition as a UNESCO City of Design is the best example of institutional support for design in Canada. A nationwide adoption of a similar approach for important cultural projects could create opportunities to showcase and support Canadian design, manufacturing and craftsmanship.
Canada has no shortage of talent. What we lack is confidence in our own creative voice. And this is why the design competition for 24 Sussex matters.
The competition represents more than the restoration of an ageing structure. It presents a precious chance to showcase Canadian design at every level with a nationally significant project. There is a rare opportunity here to plan and build for excellence, not to just fulfil baseline requirements – as is the approach for most institutional buildings.
While the current competition structure favours construction and delivery, the design community should be viewed as an equally important contributor to its success. I hope that the competition can be amended to greater emphasize the role and involvement of Canadian designers.
We can imagine a residence with interiors conceived by Canadian interior designers, furnished with pieces designed and manufactured in Canada, illuminated by Canadian lighting designers, supplied with tableware produced by Canadian ceramicists and glassmakers, and restored by Canadian craftspeople wherever existing furnishings can be preserved.
Such an approach would create more than an official residence. It could become a living exhibition of Canadian creativity and skill. It could be valued as Canadian and for its ambition by future generations.
Good design often requires a greater investment from the start, but unlike lower-cost (often imported) products built for replacement, well-designed objects and spaces endure. They can improve with age and become part of our collective cultural identity. Designing for longevity is not an extravagance. It is a responsibility that can impact both the residence and the culture at large.
We can't continue treating design as an afterthought, or an expertise that comes from abroad
Canada has never lacked remarkable and exotic materials. What we often fail to do is transform these materials into products that carry Canadian ideas. We export an abundance of raw material, but the cultural and economic value created is often captured somewhere else.
As our country imagines new public buildings, we can't continue treating design as an afterthought, or an expertise that comes from abroad. We need to recognize it as an investment in our own economy, our culture and our national identity.
Public projects should be delivered efficiently, but for one of Canada's more symbolically important buildings, efficiency alone is not enough. Design appears to be treated as one component of the project delivery, rather than as a stated objective of the competition. Projects of national significance should be opportunities to showcase and champion Canadian talent, reflecting how we see ourselves and what we choose to value.
The 24 Sussex restoration competition offers us something even more valuable than simply a renovated residence. It offers us the chance to begin believing that Canadian design is worth celebrating without needing the rest of the world to give us permission.
Thom Fougere is a Montreal-based designer working across product design, furniture, architecture and interiors. He was previously creative director of Canadian design house EQ3, is a board director of the Canadian Creators Collective (CCC) and has lectured at Harvard, the University of Toronto and the University of Manitoba.
The photo is by Alasdair McLellan.
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