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Batten and Kamp, Alexandra Batten and Daniel Kamp, a design duo creating one-of-a-kind functional sculptures, have been steadily picking up notoriety in the spheres of art and design, taking up big galleries around the world and being featured in well-known publications, like i-D and designboom. The creative duo might just be an answer to one of the most interesting questions dawning the worlds of art and design today: how much of art is design and vice-versa?
“All the boundaries between the disciplines have been dissolving,” says Daniel Kamp.
“Now it's finally gotten to a point where you don't have to choose anymore. You really can mesh different fields.”
Their collection items are exhibited in art galleries in New York, Milan, Tokyo, Geneva, Singapore and other major cities across the world, but all of the work is done in an industrial warehouse in some quiet corner of Hong Kong Island.
Last year’s collection Shelter-to-Ground, showcasing a series of chairs, tables, lights and mirrors, expresses a harmony between natural and man-made materials, art and design — think clean geometric steel sheets combined with round hefty stones.
Their practice is a tasteful cross-pollination of their multi-disciplinary backgrounds: Batten, design and architecture; Kamp, art and design. The duo are a romantic couple and business partners, which helps them with their creative process as they deeply understand each other. We sat down with the two to ask them about their work, their creative process and how the worlds of art and design have been steadily converging.
Could you describe your childhood and where you grew up?
Alexandra Batten: I grew up in Christchurch, New Zealand, which is in the South Island. My mother is an interior designer and a poet. My father is a gardener. They separated when I was quite young, but I always grew up in houses with spaces and landscapes that were incredibly beautiful and curated. I think both of my parents had such a sensibility for beauty. My brother is a designer as well. We all sort of ended up in similar industries, which is quite beautiful. All of my family gave me this appreciation for pulling things together and the ability to change and rearrange them. I think I've always felt that freedom of expression, which I'm so grateful for.
“I was expelled from my school and stuff. I think the reality was that I was a very creative person, but that world wasn't available to me.”
So it's almost genetic then.
A: Honestly, I attribute so much to my parents. Although my brother and I are both designers, they didn't push us into anything. They were the most relaxed, loving parents.
Daniel Kamp: For me, that’s kind of the opposite. To some extent there was not a lot of creativity in my childhood or in my family at all.
I grew up in the middle of nowhere, in Hawke's Bay in New Zealand. It was a half-hour drive to the nearest town, and then half to Wellington, the capital city. So I had like a mix of rural and city upbringing and I kind of spent all my time, either working on my dad's farm and working with my hands, or skating, snowboarding and mountain biking.
Art wasn't really on my radar at all, except maybe consuming it through music; punk culture was my first point of contact with anything that you'd consider as "cultural" or "creative."
I was really rebellious as a teenager and I was expelled from my school. I think the reality was that I was a very creative person, but that world wasn't available to me. So I kind of was more destructive than creative when I was young. Then it was at university where I finally found my way into something productive. I found design and that kind of gave me a platform through which I could create and change in a positive way.
“We always had a huge influence on each other's careers and certainly just making a lot of projects together. But we're very independent.”
How did you guys meet and decide to work together?
A: Dan and I went to university. We were in the same halls of residence and we met through our brothers who are good friends.
We were doing the same course at the time and I think we started dating like a month after the start of university. During that time, I was practicing interior architecture and Dan was studying industrial design. We always had a huge influence on each other's careers and we were always just making projects together, but tried to remain independent.
We knew we worked so well together and spent 12 years creating auniverse that was entirely ours. At some point it just made sense to formalize the working relatioinship.
Did you guys always know what you wanted to do when you were kids?
A: Absolutely not. I mean, I was so sure that I was going to be an architect and run an architecture practice. For so many years, I had this post-university reckless drive towards something and it almost didn't matter what it was as long as I was working hard and fast. Of course, I burnt out because of it. But I had no idea what I was racing towards, absolutely no idea.
Dan and I have been speaking about this a lot recently. For the first time in our lives, we’re so sure about how we want to live our creative lives and the kind of work we want to do, which is the most incredible feeling.
D: I have worked across many different fields, some work has been more commercial and some more experimental, but ultimately my focus has always been around objects. After seven to eight years of different creative pursuits, I finally found my way into art and it turns out that's what both of us wanted to be doing. Finally, we were like, “Ah, this is the right thing. This is the right world and the kind of things that we want to make. We finally have that clarity, which is really nice.
“All the boundaries between the disciplines have been dissolving.”
You guys work in a field that’s at the intersection of art and design. How do you guys see the industry transforming?
D: It's an interesting one. Not that long ago, I thought that we were between two different disciplines. I don't know if it's changed. I think partly, maybe it's changed, like the “collectible design” blowing up as big as it has.
Art design has been around since the modernists, basically, but it seems like now it has really kind of taken off and all the boundaries between the disciplines have been dissolving. Now it's finally got to a point where you don't have to choose anymore. You really can mesh different fields. Now, I think it's more of us doubting whether it’ll work rather than people actually not understanding anymore.
Generally, now it seems like when people talk to us, they don't see there being much difference between the two fields.
A: It feels like there is a new, young audience of collectors and enthusiasts of art design now and it is influencing the kind of work that is blowing up. Even the fact that is “blowing up” is because that same audience is posting about it and consuming it in a particular way. Art design is going digital, it's crossing over with fashion and food, it’s all getting weirder and harder to define which I find interesting. I think there is a wider cultural shift away from everything having to sit neatly in its own box so it just makes sense that the creative industries would follow suit.
How would you describe your creative process and how did you discover that process?
A: We just talk a lot. We talk constantly about literally everything and anything and it results in work and ideas. I mean, that's one of the beauties of being in a romantic relationship. You have so much time to delve deep into ideas and concepts. We know each other so well.
D: We can speak in abstract terms, but know exactly what the other means, simply because it's been years and years of developing our thoughts and ideas together. We use that as fuel to continue the conversation and evolve. We sit around a lot.
Then we get to the point where we’re like, Okay, we have to just put our ideas out into the world. At that point we have so much we can pull from. We treat each piece is a prototype for the next piece and everything is evolving much like our ideas.
A: We're not the kind of designers that design something once and it's perfect and we are happy with it. In our new collection we are up to 195 rendered iterations of ideas, not to mention all the sketches and writing before we model digitally. But at some point I have to put my foot down and say, “Dan, we need to put this out there. It’s been like 5 years,” [laughs].
“The reality is the ground beneath your feet and the view outside the window. It's like what you can touch and taste and feel, not what you're seeing through a screen.”
Do you think going offline is important?
A: I think the Internet is not a platform that's conducive to creativity and certainly not a place to find truth.
I think along with the rest of the world, we definitely went through, even pre-COVID-19, that rejection of how reliant we were on this digital world and the way that we consume socially. Dan and I were very deliberate around that. I think we were so aware of how important it is for our mental health, and for connection with the world around us to get away from our screens. The reality is the ground beneath your feet and the view outside the window. It's like what you can touch, taste and feel. It's not what you're seeing through a screen.
D: That's huge for us. Shelter-to-Ground was very much about that. The process has been so digital for many years, but Shelter-to-Ground was like a rejection of that — a very physical process as a means of connecting to the ground, literally, and also to the city — very physical, very heavy. Now we've kind of embraced the digital again. It's sort of like we recalibrated and got our balance back.
“I think taking risks naturally is frightening, but just understand that you’re being courageous.”
How long did it take to find your audience?
D: I think to some extent we're still finding it. Honestly, it's kind of happened in the last year or so.
A: We were lucky to find a small audience early on.We were published by some good online international publications, which allowed people to find us. We got a good international following, which was exciting and intimidating. But then a following is different from a real audience who are really dedicated to your work where they put in money in exchange for that work.
I think Hong Kong just has an incredible audience. I think people really love design and art and they want to go further into it. We've found a whole universe of design art galleries we didn't even know.
What’s one way young people might be able to overcome imposter syndrome?
D: Maybe just to see it as a journey you're never going to be rid of it. Just trust the way that people perceive you and that you're worthy, that all of the work you've put in up until this point has brought you to exactly where you are, trusting the version of you from three hours ago. It feels like taking on something that is slightly above your experience, but that's not bad. That's a great thing. I think taking risks naturally is frightening, but just understand that you’re being courageous.