by Marge C. Enriquez
from Philippine Daily Inquirer
MANILA, Philippines—Monaco-based designer Josef Crisanto was a sickly child who grew up in a dysfunctional family environment in Davao. Since he was too weak to play outdoors, his mother supplied him with paper, pens and crayons. A Piscean, he lived in his own world of imagination which was reflected in his drawings.
“I was looking for order in chaos, beauty in ugly scenes. Drawing was my quest for enlightenment in an abstract way. It helped me make sense of what was happening around me,” he says.
Josef Crisanto’s therapy turned out to be his destiny.
His mother was a seamstress who catered to Davao’s elite. Wealthy clients would bring magazines purchased from their trips in Europe so that his mother could copy the styles in the fashion pages.
He was fascinated by the beautiful photographs and Old World locations and enamored by the works of Paco Rabanne, Courreges and Pierre Cardin. Instinctively, he knew he would find himself in the West.
After graduating in Interior Design at the University of the Philippines, Crisanto designed sets for commercials then became assistant creative director for Duty Free Philippines, doing the store displays and graphics.
His entry point to Europe was as a creative manager at the duty-free franchise in Rumania. The following year, he toured Europe, met his lover in France and decided to settle there.
Higher learning
After studying French at Aix-en-Provence, Crisanto pursued higher learning at Ecole Superieure de Beaux-Arts in Marseille, where the system gave him a shakeup. In the Philippines, he was accustomed to presenting clean, technically perfect plates. In France, his professors demanded originality and more personality.
“They commented that my plates were ‘agency work.’ There was no ‘Me’ showing up but a well-made project. I guess they knew I was gay and they wanted me to be gayer,” he recalls.
One summer he took up a workshop in a chateau, sponsored by Vitra Design, with famous designer Tom Dixon. The latter invited him to London for more exposure.
In 1998, the Ministry of Culture launched a competition to commemorate the 10th year since design was introduced in art schools in France. Crisanto’s team won the top prize for their concept of art and design, displayed in a bazaar setting.
“Design should be accessible to everybody. It should not be something that you venerate in a museum but something you can use,” he says.
A few months later, Crisanto and his colleague won a prize for designing a logo for a youth-oriented radio station. Their design bested the other entries provided by professional agencies. Through these contests, Crisanto got to work with curators for exhibits.
Versatile creation
In one show, Crisanto’s design of an exhaust system framed by glass blocks and plastic caught the eye of Christophe Pillet, former assistant of design icon Philippe Starcke. The system was versatile, as it was composed of small furniture pieces that could be stacked and become a partition or an architectural element.
In 2002, Pillet invited Crisanto to represent the Philippines in the “Worldwide” exhibit in Paris. His mother-of-pearl mosaic lamps, stacking stools and modular lounges made from rattan and natural fabrics were placed alongside big names as Karim Rashid of USA, Christian Ghion of France and the Campana Brothers from Brazil.
“Living in France freed me to be myself, to discover who I am and express it to the fullest. Design is about being honest with myself. Before, I would do projects that were client-oriented and I would look at the magazines and propose an idea. Now it’s all about me,” he says.
“In France, artists are called createurs. The idea has to come from you. That’s what I’m trying to teach when I’m in the Philippines. Many are lacking in individuality. Big cities in France celebrate culture and creative people who do new things and make you feel it.”
“Design, or art in general, is about finding your truth and translating that,” he adds.
Crisanto acknowledges the reality of commercialism, pushing designs that sell. He cites designers like Eric Paras, whose furniture caters to market demands, yet has maintained his integrity and his vision.
“I know my designs are commercial when people say they love what I do. But I am not going to please those who want the Mediterranean style,” he declares.
The Imelda association
Abroad, whenever foreigners learn that he’s a Filipino, they usually associate his nationality with Imelda Marcos’ excesses.
To parody the former First Lady’s shoe fetish and also as a tribute to her rags-to-riches story, Crisanto designed two versions of a retro love seat. The first was covered with crystals, a reference to Ms Marcos’s extravagance. The mass-market version was done in expanded vinyl acetate (EVA), the same material used for thongs, or the tsinelas ng masa (slippers of the poor).
A friend who saw Crisanto’s work was amused and hooked him up with Swarovski. His designs were then exhibited in furniture fairs in Paris, Manila and Cebu.
Today, Crisanto teaches design in French at Ecole Superior D’Arts Plastiques de la Ville in Monaco. He has also done product development styling for the German company Dedon.
Every time he returns to the Philippines, he works as a design director for a Cebu-based company, Ayag.
His most recent collection, “The Folding Star,” was inspired by an origami book given by his ex-lover. “I incorporated the paper aspect into stone,” he explains.
The stacking stools, vases, storage boxes, open wall shelves and trays, made of resin or reconstituted stone, feature the complicated geometric folds of an origami sculpture.
“The process is low tech—done by hand,” he explains. But when the collection was presented in Milan, buyers and visitors exclaimed, as they always do with Crisanto creations, “Bello! (beautiful.)”
