interviews
Ronan Bouroullec’s Milan
I’ve been coming to Milan during the month of April systematically for more than 20 years.
What are the origins of your relationship with Milan?
I’ve been coming to Milan’s Furniture Fair for more than 20 years now. It’s a trip I make systematically every April. I also happened to meet my wife in Milan (the designer Inga Sempé, ed.), even though she actually comes from Paris.
What is your favourite historical building in the city?
I love the Pirelli Tower, the skyscraper that Gio Ponti built near the Milano Centrale rail station [The rising City]. It’s a marvel of fineness. I like Milan’s postwar architecture, as well as the buildings of the ’1970s and ’80s, which I think are better than the French architecture of the same period. The balconies are well designed, and the architecture enters into a relationship with the surrounding greenery. I love Milan. Everyone says it’s a difficult city, it’s true. But personally I’m not acquainted with its gloomier side because I always come to Milan in the context of April’s Furniture Fair, with the springtime. I rarely visit Milan at other times of the year.
I especially liked it before, when the Fiera was still in town instead of out at Rho. There was a slightly different dynamic in the relationship between the city and the spaces of the fair. That relationship still exists, but back then it was fuelled by a greater immediacy and an amazingly organic mix.
Many brands used to show in town rather than at the Salone, so you would always discover extraordinary secret places in the city. This still happens today, of course, but the cost of accommodation and travelling from abroad means that people don’t stop in the city for long. They arrive at the airport, go to the Salone, stay one or two nights and then go back home.
That very urban way of experiencing the Furniture Fair is one of Milan’s profoundly distinctive traits, and it’s a characteristic that has evolved over time.
What do you normally do when you are in Milan?
One problem for me is that when I’m in Milan I never have much free time on my hands. What I like about the city is the fact that you can stop for a bite to eat wherever you please, without bothering to look for a particular restaurant. This is something you can no longer do in France or around Europe, but in Italy the quality of life is generally pretty high, especially when it comes to matters of food.
For me there’s a kind of elegance in the simple things in life – such as going out for an aperitif, getting a coffee or something to eat – and I love this about Milan.
Is there a shop in Milan where you buy special items?
I’m a terrible consumer so I’m not really the right person to ask about speciality shops in Milan. I often find myself buying socks in Milan, but I must admit I’m not sure why. When I go to Rome, I tend to buy short socks in the Vatican. They’re the socks that cardinals wear, in a sort of pink colour and made of fine cotton. They’re very nice and comfortable. It’s the sock supply of priests!
What is your favourite cafe, bar or restaurant in the city?
Even though I think French croissants are practically unbeatable, in Italy I really like drinking a morning coffee at the bar. It’s a great experience, and the quality and atmosphere are incomparable.
As for my favourite place for dining, I love the traditional Milanese restaurant called La Libera, which is in the lively Brera district [The rising City].
Which new buildings have transformed the face of Milan?
I see plenty of cranes and construction sites dotted around the city, indicating that the urban fabric is experiencing a considerable makeover. However, each year I spend just five very particular days in Milan, and they’re packed with a rapid succession of appointments one after the other. As a consequence, my assessment of the city and the way it’s transforming is very furtive and patchy. This kind of limited exposure to Milan doesn’t really give me enough perspective to weigh up what strikes me as interesting.
What would you transfer to Milan from another place?
In my opinion, what’s missing from Milan is the sea. There’s no doubt about it. I think it’s fascinating to imagine what this city would have done with a seafront. I wonder what would have happened if Milan’s resourcefulness, chaos and charm had encountered and engaged with the sea.