Pekka Niskanen: Stefan Lindfors, Booa 2+2, 1993

A classic prank about the mixed identities of a work of art and an everyday object placed in an exhibition of contemporary art first comes to mind when seeing the couch in the collection floor of Kiasma. But there's no sitting on this sofa, no matter how many times you may have relaxed on one exactly like this. The sofa made by designer and the illuminated panels leaning onto it are a work of art in this context, which is revealed by the text on the wall if nothing else: Pekka Niskanen: Stefan Lindfors, Booa 2+2, 1993. Collections of the Museum of Contemporary Art. Yet to Niskanen this is a not a prank. "The work deals with the representation of Stefan Lindfors in the media," says he.

An unfinished work

Pekka Niskanen's object work Stefan Lindfors, Booa 2+2, 1993 consists of the two-component Booa couch and two illuminated panels; wrapped in transparent plastic. The couch is designed by Lindfors and produced by Skanno, a company specialising in design furniture and fittings. The left component is covered by zebra-pattern fabric while the right-hand seating is of imitation leopard skin. The illuminated panels with fictitious information on Lindfors are placed on the floor, leaning onto the aluminium-framed, padded sofa. The advertisement-like panels create a sort of halo around the masterpiece of a star designer. The plastic cover, the seemingly temporary placement of the panels and the electric cords lying about under the sofa create an appearance of being unfinished. "Everything is a fragment in any case," says Niskanen.

The Messiah of Design

Hailed as the darling of design, Stefan Lindfors broke into the news in the late 1980s. The story goes that Lindfors, a University of Art and Design graduate, always worked for days on end on the edge and managed to meet the deadlines by a very short margin. Insightful, fantastic table lamps, rain gear, lizards, posters, pennants and exhibition designs kept emerging. In 1992, Lindfors designed the interior of the Marimekko shop in Eteläesplanadi and Booa, a couch line commissioned by Skanno. Awards followed each other and the media went berserk over the new wild thing of Finnish design. There were interviews and personal profiles in every medium: the print media, radio and TV were Lindfors' deliberate bridge to fame. "They write about me, I get publicity. Publicity gets me work, work gets me fame and again they write about me […] and so on," stated Lindfors in an interview with City in 1990. Lindfors became part of the success story of Finnish design, the roots of which date from the Golden Age in the 1940s and 1950s with Aalto, Wirkkala, Sarpaneva and the rest. In one version of the story, Heir Apparent Lindfors came down to us mortals as the saviour of Finnish design. The first issue of Image in 1993 declared: "Had Stefan Lindfors not fought his way as the Messiah of Finnish design, he would have had to have been invented."

The Myth of the Designer

In his works, Niskanen applies language in a very conscious way. In the background of Stefan Lindfors, Booa 2+2 there is also the idea of the constructivist nature of language, according to which language and its practices not only describe the world but also designate, construct and regenerate reality. The myth of the artist as a personality – in this case Stefan Lindfors – is thus constructed not only through his own works but also interviews, advertising and criticism. "I read all that was written about him when I was making this work. "Yet Niskanen was not so much interested in Lindfors as a person, rather in the public image of Lindfors the Designer.

"In my opinion, Lindfors has been subjected to quite a few misinterpretations in Finland, which is why I wanted to add a new narrative," states Niskanen. In the three illuminated panels, he placed a fictitious interview in which Lindfors is not presented as the disciple of the massively male Modernist designers, rather as a critic of Modernism. "My claim goes that through his design, Lindfors has overruled the male-female opposition inherent in Modernism."

The Designer as a Rock Star

The imaginary interview, which has been read and approved by Lindfors as part of Niskanen's work, is partially based on quotes from rock magazines and partially made up by the artist. The text in the panels presents Lindfors as an androgynous rock star, as a man who sometimes feels like a woman. The animal designs on the sofa also refer to rock. "The story is the most important point in this work. It can be taken as a proposal to the media, for example," states Niskanen. However, the very same story has been mostly received as a celebration of the Lindfors myth. The most fervent critics saw nothing else than fuel for the Lindfors hype.

In this context, the fictitious interview is neither prank nor irony, for it uses fragments in the borderland of fact and fiction to construct its identities. According to Niskanen, a designer can just as well enter public life thanks to his or her sexuality and body instead of mere works or other merits. This is how Lindfors has acted, showing himself in the public at times as non-heterosexual. "In a way, he consciously participated in the design of his own public image."

The Narrative in the Typography

Niskanen, an expert in graphic design, utilises typography as part of the story in the work. The form of the text in the panels reinforces the "interview" and the entire narrative. Fonts in different sizes, varying line spacing and texts framed or crossed out all convey the message that everything is only ostensible. Everything need not be read, and the order is of no importance. The viewer is free to construct his or her own interpretation on the basis of the fragment of his or her choice. The language is English, liberating a Finnish viewer from the power of the mother tongue.

The Museum as a Medium

Niskanen's work was originally made for an art exhibition at the Helsinki Vantaa airport. In the transit hall context, it received meanings different from those related to a museum. In Niskanen's opinion, the work was well suited to the airport ambience among other public space furnishings and advertising panels. The unexpected plastic cover may have lured the odd passing traveller to wonder about the meaning of a packaged seat and read the texts in the panels.

In the collection exhibition of Kiasma, the work looks like a museum exhibit brought to a gallery from the storage room. Yet Niskanen also sees the museum as a medium allowing different dialogues. Stories emerging by the sofa in the gallery may tell about the myth of the artist and the designer but also the set of values connected to everyday objects and institutionalised works of art.

Minna Raitmaa