Defining wabi-sabi? Even for a Japanese person, it’s a perilous exercise, as Leonard Koren reminds us in his book Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets & Philosophers (1994). A fusion of two words – wabi, the solitude of one who lives in nature, and sabi, the patina of time, the beauty of transformation – this Zen Buddhist concept first took shape in Japan through the ritual of the tea ceremony, eventually expanding to signify both a craft ethos and a distinct aesthetic sensibility.
Wabi-sabi: why the design of imperfection fascinates Western culture
Metaphysical and spiritual, wabi-sabi today is above all an aesthetic of the everyday, an idea that has found new ways of being interpreted and reimagined in design. We selected 8 objects that capture its essence, from Andrea Branzi to Shiro Kuramata to the Campana brothers.
Domus 667, December 1985
foto Emilio Tremolada
foto Emilio Tremolada
foto Emilio Tremolada
photo Emilio Tremolada
foto Emilio Tremolada
foto Emilio Tremolada
foto Emilio Tremolada
photo Eline Willaert
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- 11 November 2025
So what, then, is wabi-sabi? Translating it as “rustic” is so reductive it misses the point entirely. Without pretending to be exhaustive or overly precise, we could define wabi-sabi as a systemic order of metaphysical character, one not bound to function, but oriented toward valuing the beauty of incompleteness and transformation.
At the beginning of the 17th century, wabi-sabi began to crystallize through the tea ceremony. The bowls used by the first tea masters were Japan’s response to Chinese ceramics, glazed, colorful, technically perfect. Wabi-sabi, on the other hand, embraced rough textures, neutral tones, the traces of time, even flaws, finding in nature a source of harmony and contemplation.
In the West, wabi-sabi has long fascinated those drawn to its quiet celebration of imperfection, to the humility of the ordinary object, and, more profoundly, to its ability to convey through an artifact the immanence of life itself. As often happens in cross-cultural translation, its journey from East to West has generated new sensitivities and creative short circuits, expanding its meanings and manifestations. The eight objects in our gallery tell this evolving story, crossing paths with the likes of Andrea Branzi, Alchimia and Paola Navone, the Campana brothers, Shiro Kuramata and Maarten Baas.
Would Andrea Branzi have agreed to link wabi-sabi to his Animali Domestici (Domestic Animals) collection? Perhaps not, but this pivotal work, marking his move beyond the Alchimia and Memphis experiences, does introduce a vivid, almost living simulacrum of nature into the domestic sphere. By framing irregular trunks and branches as design elements, Branzi reawakens our sense of their formal, tactile, and metaphysical beauty.
For Shiro Kuramata, an object is never just functional: it’s a vehicle for spiritual inquiry. In this generous, wire-mesh armchair, Kuramata redefines lightness and invites us to look beyond – to the moon, as its name suggests – to grasp a fleeting moment of poetry and contemplation.
In this series of tables, Nakashima turns joinery into a seamless dialogue between the natural and the crafted. His hybrid pieces reveal wood’s mutable presence without disguise, celebrating its states and metamorphoses.
Between 1990 and 1995, the Droog collective reshaped the meaning of objects according to principles close to wabi-sabi: process over perfection, equality among materials, the embrace of irregularity and the “ugly.” In this porcelain bowl cast from a natural sponge, Marcel Wanders captures the raw materiality of an organic form, breaking from porcelain’s polished codes and distilling nature’s essence in faithful detail.
Often framed through the lens of “tropical baroque,” the Campana brothers’ work also resonates with wabi-sabi, especially in their early icon, the Favela Chair. Built from discarded wood scraps, its spontaneous assembly recalls the idea that beauty can arise from what is deemed worthless. As the Italian songwriter Fabrizio De André once sang, “dal letame nascono i fior (“From manure, flowers bloom”).
In 2004, the French collective 5.5 “hacked” a worn-out bistro chair by fitting it with a conspicuously artificial prosthesis. The result juxtaposes wood and neon-green plastic – nature and synthetic matter – but also evokes healing and rebirth, as the name (“chair treated with a crutch”) suggests. Now a classic of repair design, it’s a kind of kintsugi that replaces gold with a punk spirit.
How can serial production generate uniqueness? Maarten Baas offers an ingenious answer with his Standard Unique series: sixteen kitchen chair components, always the same, can be assembled in countless variations. The result celebrates asymmetry, rough cuts, and imperfection as a new everyday aesthetic.
A longtime devotee of wabi-sabi, Turin-born designer Paola Navone absorbed its sensibility during extended stays in Asia, revisiting it across numerous interiors and installations. Yet beyond her appreciation of the humble and anonymous object, Navone’s true contribution lies in translating wabi-sabi into industrial production. In Gervasoni’s Brick collection, a wax-treated steel top rests on tree trunk sections used as legs: a delicate yet stable balance, suggesting a new coexistence between nature and design.
Will the wabi-sabi of the future be a design of the living? In this lamp made from an algae-based substrate, the natural trace becomes a magnetic presence, functional yet deeply evocative. It redefines beauty through materials many consider “ugly,” exalting a patina that is alive, mutable, and endlessly becoming.