Interviews, Online Exclusive

In Conversation: Dan Thawley

Dan Thawley examines the salon’s place in Parisian culture after the latest MATTER and SHAPE.

Words PLUS MAGAZINE

With the latest edition of MATTER and SHAPE concluded, Creative Director Dan Thawley is already dissecting the salon’s role in the crowded Parisian cultural landscape. He has sought to subvert the static conventions of industry events, establishing a temporary pavilion in the Jardin des Tuileries that acts as a fluid ecosystem for the global design community.

His vision prioritizes a curated experience where site-specific architecture, this year exploring the theme of “Scale,” and elevated hospitality foster a direct exchange between industrial powerhouses and emerging designers. In this post-fair reflection, Thawley discusses the success of his neutral exhibition environment and explains why the salon’s future depends on remaining hyper-responsive to its surroundings rather than following a repeatable global template.

PLUS MAGAZINE: Looking at this year’s edition of MATTER and SHAPE, it’s clear that your approach to curating the salon is a deliberate effort to balance the Parisian heritage with something that feels genuinely contemporary.

DAN THAWLEY: It has been a process of establishing a set of principles that we continue to refine and push forward. We want to affirm our position in Paris, which is an incredibly dense environment for culture and design. To stand out here, the event needs to feel inviting, fresh, and contemporary. Paris also carries a strong heritage of historical design, with remarkable galleries, editors, and museums all around us. The challenge is to create something that respects that legacy while also shifting the conversation forward.

P: That interplay between legacy and progress really seems to have crystallized this year through your focus on scale. It serves as a fascinating lens to examine everything from mass-produced utility to singular, high-concept art.

DT: The theme developed quite naturally. I kept thinking about how collectible design has expanded globally, and how difficult it has become to judge what holds value or meaning. Design operates across many levels. At MATTER and SHAPE, a one-of-a-kind piece by a young designer might sit beside a fork designed a century ago, reproduced thousands of times. Both objects can carry cultural significance.

The idea of scale helped us frame that spectrum. It allowed us to place historical re-editions alongside new work and ask how we measure value, impact, and relevance. It also opened space for interpretation. Exhibitors explored physical scale, material scale, and even value. For example, we showed a chandelier by Michael Anastassiades that the jeweler Shihara reinterpreted as an earring. There was also a monumental sculpture by Serban Ionescu made with Birkenstock leather. These kinds of translations allowed the theme to move across very different forms.

P: Beyond the objects themselves, you’ve built a complete ecosystem through the reading rooms and talks—to what extent does the physical architecture of the space act as a container for that intellectual dialogue?

DT: For us, the ecosystem is both commercial and intellectual. It exists in the physical space, but also in the dialogue between exhibitors and visitors. Our location in the Jardin des Tuileries, near the Louvre, carries a certain cultural responsibility. From the beginning, we approached the fair as a temporary pavilion that engages with the history and geography of the site.

This year, we worked with architect Jayden Ali of JA Projects. Together we looked closely at the garden and its history. That research influenced the materials we used, including hemp blocks and green-tinted wood that reflect the palette of the landscape. One key element was the moiré pattern on the façade—a reference to the mulberry trees planted by Henry IV for silk production in the sixteenth century. Inside the salon, we also value emptiness. I have always defended the idea of a “beige cube,” a neutral environment where objects can float. We started with that sense of quietness in the first edition to reset expectations; now that the language is established, exhibitors have more freedom to create immersive environments while still working within that framework.

P: It’s fascinating that you mention the “neutral environment” of the beige cube. Within that space, there is often a friction between commerce and culture—in what ways do you curate the mix of exhibitors to ensure that industrial brands and emerging designers actually inform one another?

DT: The two should exist together and inform each other. Their proximity encourages exchange. Many exhibitors already share the philosophies discussed in the talks program; others begin to engage with those ideas once they participate. Large industrial brands benefit from refreshing their visual language and collaborating with younger designers. Their presence also attracts audiences and brand recognition that emerging exhibitors may not yet have. Visitors may arrive for a well-known brand and then discover a smaller designer nearby. That cross-pollination is essential—it creates plurality instead of a competition among established names.

P: If the goal is this kind of cross-pollination, what role does the spatial rhythm of the salon play in choreographing those unexpected encounters and essential moments of pause?

DT: I consider how design enthusiasts live their lives. If someone invests in an object, the surrounding experience should match. Visitors today travel, eat, visit galleries, and remain curious; design sits within that broader lifestyle. Hospitality reflects this: movement through the space includes pauses and transitions. Bas Smets described our auditorium as a clearing in a forest, a metaphor that captures the importance of breathing spaces. Visitors may move from exhibitions to the Zara Home Dreaming Man Café or step onto the terrace among the trees. These moments encourage reflection and extend the visit. Even without immediate purchases, people leave with knowledge that fosters future engagement.

P: In an era where globalization often flattens design into a singular aesthetic, does the preservation of regional identity and local craft act as the primary anchor for the “lifestyle” narrative you’re presenting at MATTER and SHAPE?

DT: Local design cultures spark curiosity. Design languages are shaped by materials, crafts, and traditions worldwide. Globalization connects us, but can create sameness. Design can stay rooted in local expertise, from artisanal practices to advanced manufacturing, like in China. MATTER and SHAPE encourages exhibitors to show evolving ideas each year. Layouts place designers in dialogue across cultures and scales—industrial alongside artisanal, emerging alongside established—creating an editorial experience that challenges expectations.

P: As you look toward the next chapters for MATTER and SHAPE, how do you see the salon evolving to “break the physical algorithm” further without losing that core responsiveness to its specific location?

DT: I would like the fair to be known for its unexpected position at the crossroads of Paris Fashion Week. That context is unique and difficult to replicate elsewhere. We are interested in projects in other cities, but they should not copy the Paris format. Each initiative should respond to its location and community. There is little value in recreating the same network of designers and collectors in another place.

Instead, we want to disrupt expectations and expose audiences to unfamiliar perspectives. I often describe this as breaking the physical algorithm. Visitors encounter designers, suppliers, or ideas they would not normally see.

These projects might take many forms. It could be a small gallery exhibition in Copenhagen, a talks program in the south of France, or collaborations with other design festivals. Flexibility is part of MATTER and SHAPE’s identity. At the same time, the goal remains constant: to support exhibitors and highlight their work. The platform exists to help their projects shine.