What we talk about when we talk about makers

“Traditions are just peer pressure from dead people,” Greg Rowland says to the captivated audience. Coming from him, it is a sobering statement. Rowland is, in fact, one of the last three wheel makers left in England. From his workshop in Devon, in a bucolic corner of the country, he produces and repairs wooden carriage wheels, carrying on a family expertise that has been going on, generation after generation, since 1331. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth had appointed him as her personal wheel maker: perhaps nothing could seem more traditional and ancestral. Yet, Rowland’s refusal to consider his craft – or is it a science? – as an unchanging domain says a lot about every maker’s view of themselves, above all, as innovators. 

The maker, according to the popular view in the world that bridges design and fab labs – the famous self-fabrication labs equipped with 3D printers and CNC machines, among other tools – is an innovator who combines technological and manual innovation through the creation of several artifacts. This is a necessarily broad definition, open to countless interpretations and legitimate ways of understanding this practice. 

Joseph Walsh

Designer Joseph Walsh, the one who has given Rowland and many other makers a platform to speak about the role and function of these unclassifiable artisans, has made his point. ‘Making means learning from the past, and then adding a personal touch to share with others, following a cycle that never stops,’ he tells us from his studio in another beautiful countryside corner, this time near Cork, in southern Ireland. This is where Walsh was born and has chosen to stay, even though the allure of international design has led him to consider – and later abandon – the idea of moving from an undeniable suburb, the far west of Europe, to cities and districts perceived as the epicenters of global design. And it is here, more precisely in Fartha, that he founded the Making In festival in 2017 – an annual gathering of makers that focuses on sharing high-level knowledge and personal experiences, each rooted in a specific field. 

The 2024 edition – held on September 6 and 7 and titled Circle – developed following Walsh’s vision, drawing inspiration from both the circularity of time and, in the words of critic Glenn Adamson, here as moderator, the ‘embracing, inclusive social forms in which makers thrive.’ The international audience, in sync like at a TED talk, already seems to have been captured by this circularity. But it is the makers themselves who confirm the need for a hybrid exchange among peers, highlighting the benefits of being part of an interdisciplinary parterre. The seventh edition of Making In fostered this exchange with, among others, Pritzker Prize winner Shigeru Ban, kabuki actor Shikan Nakamura VIII, Jeremy Irons, chef Darina Allen, couturière Iris van Herpen, car designer Horacio Pagani, manager and collector Domenico De Sole and his wife Eleanore, ceramist Jennifer Lee, and even the gardener of a sacred tree, Hiroyuki Tsujii.

The heterogeneity of these profiles necessarily escapes any defined boundary or unambiguous definition. Yet, gathered in the hangars where Joseph Walsh designs and creates his furniture and sculptures in curved laminated wood – an expression, once again, of the curvilinear fluidity that is as close as one can get to the imagery of a poetic Irish fairy tale – these makers were able to experience the sensation of being and living in unison. They shared stories of the birth of a vocation, inevitable failures, and, above all, the determination with which they continue to refine and harmonize a vision with a distinctly technical savoir-faire, overcoming obstacles along the way. No matter if it is built on physicality, craftsmanship, or technology.

Joseph Walsh

‘Design can be intimidating, because there is a perception of design as good design or bad design,’ Walsh explains, speaking about his work, which over the years has been classified both as legitimate design and as high craftsmanship. ‘Making, on the contrary, is not about good making or bad making, because it’s active doing. Making In is talking about the importance to continue to celebrate the active making. […] So, for me, Making In is not about design, I find it too pretentious, and too small.’ However, what is the lowest common denominator that can be found with the other major maker phenomenon, the one that in recent years has brought fab labs to the forefront, fostering a narrative of grassroots technological empowerment and a ‘thinkering’ that is available to everyone? In reply, Walsh observes that many fab labs have already closed, highlighting the fleeting nature of an initiative that was rushed into popularity to follow a trend. This occurred while another trend had first discredited the crafts movement as something marginal, only to later rehabilitate it in all its significance.

Labels do not really matter; we are inclined to say after listening to all the participants. What emerges from an event like Making In is the opportunity for makers and those discovering their world to broaden perspectives and marvel at extraordinary visions and skills cultivated with perseverance and determination. 

By rejecting the need to categorize arts, knowledge, and techniques into a rigid taxonomy, it is enough to recognize the one true element that unites makers: the cultivation of individuality rooted in shared knowledge, fostering the unique voice and distinct signature that truly sets them apart.