Maha Alavi’s work is raw and evocative; the forms she creates are imbued with simplicity, yet they channel sentiments that are unexpectedly complex, catching the viewer off guard. The young artisan from Toronto, who creates inspired minimalistic products in hardware, furniture, and home accessories, seems to have a novel way of thinking about aesthetics and materials. This may be due to the atypical path she took to get here: she started off by studying philosophy.
Although Alavi ultimately shifted gears to study industrial design, she doesn’t regret the time she spent in philosophy classes. “Philosophy teaches you how to think about things.” she says. “You’re able to look at a situation and zoom out…that’s where I start when I design something: I look at it and I’m like, what’s the reason for this? What is the philosophy of this going to be?” A high-level way of thinking about design may explain the feeling of complexity that lurks within her creations. Alavi names Kierkegaard, the existentialist philosopher, as a lasting influence: “I often think about Kierkegaard because he has this notion that faith is a leap. Being creative, you have to believe that your stuff needs to be represented in the world,” says Alavi.
After graduating, the Toronto design industry played a hand in shaping Alavi’s career. She worked first at the hardware retailer Casson, where she was encouraged by her boss to create a chunky, arch-shaped handle—a design motif that would surface in Alavi’s later creations. She then worked with the cutting-edge Studio Paolo Ferrari. Work from Toronto designers like Jonathan Sabine and Jessica Nakanishi at the internationally successful MSDS Studio were particularly influential for Alavi.
Last fall, Alavi left Toronto for Tokyo, where she has been taking classes in washi papermaking and shikki, a traditional kind of lacquerware—types of creating that are a far cry from her typical body of work. Alavi has also been diversifying her craft in other ways. Though most of her portfolio consists of hardware and home accessories, last year she branched out into furniture with the LITHIC Chair series; chunky, prehistoric-looking creations of solid oak, with cushions upholstered in bouclé, velvet, or leather, all fabrics with strong textural auras that provide an edge that contrasts the frames’ smooth simplicity. Alavi got the idea for the chairs when she saw ancient sketches of humanoid figures in a book about cave art; she says there was something powerful about these drawings that resulted in them being etched into her subconscious.
The evocative simplicity that makes the chairs so visually enticing is present in most all of Alavi’s other designs, like the FROOOT Bowl, an eye-catching statement that subtly reinvents what a bowl can look like using just a thick-rimmed plate and overhead arch made of moulded resin. For someone that’s only been honing her craft for a few years, Alavi has obvious talent—yet her defining quality as a designer might be humility. She expresses grateful wonder at the idea that people want her creations in their homes. “Lately, I don’t know what it is, I didn’t do anything special marketing-wise, but I’ve been getting a bit more attention,” she admits happily. “That’s something, for sure; I can go back to my parents and be like, I am making a living!”
