Key Points
- Human-first, nature-centred design: Étienne frames design as improving life while embedding environmental limits: materials, making, and end-of-life are considered from the start.
- Territory-made tapestries: Pays’Âges uses only local fibres and plant dyes to “map” endangered landscapes and will be recreated decades later to document ecological change.
- From waste to light: Nuclée refines banana plant “flesh” (an agricultural by-product) under heat and compression to produce translucent lamp shades with minimal waste.
- Material-led bamboo objects: The Bones collection exploits bamboo’s natural hollows and nodes; few cuts, low energy, semi-industrial reproducibility, unique pieces by nature.
- Repair as value: Alliance casts low-melting white pewter into damaged wood, locking metal into pre-cut staples to stabilise and elevate “imperfect” timber, kintsugi for furniture.
Full interview with Dorian Étienne
What is the significance of the humanistic approach in your design process, and how do you integrate it into your works?
The ecological and humanist approach is one of the pillars on which I have based my work from the beginning. In fact, whatever the project or research, at every stage, from design and research to post-use, I keep this aim in mind to create objects that are responsible and focused on people. This can take many forms: choosing appropriate, natural, and local materials; favouring manual or low-energy techniques; involving local residents to share, pass on, and open up discussion on local issues; creating projects that raise questions, bear witness, and raise awareness, etc.
For me, the main mission of design is to ‘improve life’: it's a practice fundamentally based on humanity. But it's also important to decentralise this vision, to change the frame of reference, and to include the environment at the very heart of design. Ultimately, we are part of a whole on this planet, so if we don't take nature into account in our creative process, in the long term, it's as if we're no longer creating for humanity but against it, and that becomes paradoxical.
After that, it's a matter of creating in a sustainable and inclusive way, even if that means facing more and more constraints in the face of today's challenges. So I really enjoy creating for, but above all with, people. That's why I share my vision through large-scale participative, ecological, and social projects like the ‘Pays'Âges’ collection, or through conferences and internships. This open-mindedness enables two-way exchange, and I learn almost as much from the people I meet and train.
Can you discuss the role of plant dyes in your Pays'Âges project and how they contribute to the overall aesthetic and message of the tapestries?
Pays'Âges is a new collection project that reveals the identity of endangered territories (rising waters, human footprint, disappearance of biodiversity...) from the sky. This takes the form of large-scale testimonial tapestries in volume, which present the singularities of the region studied, its topography, and biodiversity.
Indeed, they are made on-site with 100% local and natural materials, involving a team of around thirty residents during the three months of workshops.
Just like the support fibres, the dye plants used to colour the entire work are local and come from the territory that is represented. This requires extensive research into plant colorimetry to produce an exact colour chart of the territory, while being highly constrained by the local flora and working closely with small local suppliers. The work serves as a testimony to the territory in evolution at a given moment, but also as a form of herbarium, like a mise en abyme between the medium used and the representation.
These monumental artworks testify to a "state of place" at this crucial moment of ecological disruption. They will be reproduced a few decades later. Exhibited alongside the first ones, the diptychs will artistically document the evolution of the region as well as the ecological and societal issues at stake.
Can you explain the process of sourcing and preparing natural dye plants, such as dyer’s knotweed and madder, for use in your textile projects?
The dye plants I use in my projects are always local and organic. Depending on the quantity needed and its presence in nature, I either harvest the common plants myself, taking care not to take too much from one place, or work with small local suppliers who grow these dyeing plants. The preparation stages will then vary according to the plant: the red from madder roots will be obtained by decoction, while the blue from dyer's knotweed will be obtained by making a fructose vat.
The richness of French flora means that a wide range of colours can be obtained. However, to achieve a precise shade, complex sampling is required to determine the exact parameters of this plant chemistry: which plants to use with which mordant, at what temperature, and with which potential additives. For the Pays'Âges' colour charts, this intricate colourimetric research was conducted with the help of the Whole workshop, which specialises in vegetable dyes.
Can you explain the process of transforming banana fibre into a refined material for your Nuclée lamps?
Nuclée was born from a meeting that combined culture, know-how, and an experimental approach. Settled near Hualien, on the east coast of Taiwan, the Kavalan aboriginal tribe is expert in the use of banana fibre; they make it into their traditional clothing. I had the chance to meet them, share their way of life, and learn from their elders the ancestral techniques of using this plant.
The banana tree is one of the most cultivated plants in the world. After each harvest of banana bunches, the “trunks” must be cut to facilitate the growth of shoots. Thus, tons of banana trees are still waiting to be reevaluated.
Banana flesh, a considerable waste unexploited by the Kavalan, reveals a fascinating graphic in the light. By a particular refining technique and under precise parameters of compression and heat, this plant tissue is stabilised in a colour range from white to dark brown. This innovative material is sublimated here in walnut shapes, inspired by the banana tree structure.
Can you detail the process of creating your bamboo-based products, such as the Bones lamps and mirrors, from raw material to finished piece?
The idea behind the Bones bamboo object collection, designed in collaboration with designer Cordélia Faure, is to reverse the traditional thinking methodology of industrial design by starting not with the final object but with the material. This approach allows us to empirically experiment with the material, understand its intrinsic properties and limits, and thereby imagine new uses for it.
Bamboo is a material that fascinates me. This natural profile has exceptional properties, a very fast growth rate, and is inexpensive in terms of water. Our research focused on the unique characteristics of the hollows and knots on a bamboo stem.
Bones then highlight the raw curves of the plant. The project was designed to be easily reproducible with very few steps, simply by working with the shape of the bamboo rather than against it. With just a few cuts and assemblies, we can create everyday objects.
This approach allows for semi-industrial reproduction, requires little energy, and results in unique pieces, as the shape of the stem is determined by nature and not standardised. Moreover, a single piece of bamboo is used to make a lamp, a mirror, and a case, with very little material waste.
In the production of your Alliance tableware, how do you ensure a seamless bond between white pewter and wood, especially considering the differences in thermal expansion coefficients and material properties during the pewter casting process?
Alliance is part of a collection called Resilience, which revalues wood damaged by the addition of molten metal. Indeed, small sawmills often struggle to sell their stocks of damaged wood or wood attacked by xylophagous insects in any way other than as firewood.
This collection is inspired by the Japanese technique of "kintsugi", which involves "assuming repair that sublimates a broken object." It demonstrates an eco-friendly way to revalue damaged wood while allowing the history of the material to shine through.
As explained previously, I have an artisanal and empirical practice. In this, I focus on practical research and try to understand the limits and possibilities of materials through direct experience. White tin has a low melting point while being food grade, which prevents burning the wood during casting.
Additionally, I make staple-shaped slots in the wood before adding the molten metal so that the metal bonds with the wood as it solidifies. There is, of course, a whole stage of shaping and finishing before obtaining the finished objects. I aim to soon extend this concept to larger objects, ranging from stools to dining tables.
What emerging materials or technologies are you most excited to explore in future projects, and how do you see them transforming your design approach?
Even if I remain attentive to new technologies and bio-sourced materials that are emerging, I have a rather low-tech approach to creation.
In this sense, I generally work with current or ancestral techniques, adapting them to create new uses. The materials I use are varied and always natural, but remain basic: plant or animal fibres, wood, stone, metal, etc. It is the way I understand and use these materials within innovative and coherent projects that characterises my current and likely future artistic approach.
