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Posted in Design Stories

Pierre Jean­neret: Fake vs Real

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A Chandi­garh resi­dent seated in a Capitol Complex armchair.

On the surface, there is a certain absur­dity in drawing a distinc­tion between real and fake furni­ture. As phys­i­cal items we sit and lie on, work at and eat from, our bodily rela­tion­ship with furni­ture renders it more mate­r­ial, more real than almost anything else in our lives. So what do we mean by a real piece of furni­ture, and by contrast, what is a fake?


In the begin­ning, before an orig­i­nal piece of furni­ture or design object takes phys­i­cal shape, there is a partic­u­lar moti­va­tion; a driving force. Most designed objects are responses to the specific condi­tions of a place, or to the func­tional require­ments of a partic­u­lar prac­tice. Some­times, an idea simply grows from curios­ity and joy in making. In 1951, Swiss archi­tect Pierre Jean­neret took on the chal­lenge of design­ing a furnish­ing collec­tion for the project he was working on at the time with his cousin, archi­tect Le Corbusier. 

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Chandi­garh Capitol Project Team with Pierre Jeanneret

Together, they were devel­op­ing the archi­tec­tural and urban design for the Capitol Complex in the city of Chandi­garh in India. Located in the foothills of the Himalayas, the project needed furni­ture made en-masse that would be locally appro­pri­ate, hand-made, and climate and bug-resis­tant. Respond­ing to these require­ments, Jean­neret designed a suite of sturdy teak and cane chairs, tables and benches for the formal, geomet­ric inte­ri­ors. Thou­sands of these furni­ture pieces were then hand-made by local arti­sans, and installed into the vast concrete cham­bers of the new complex. 

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Capitol Complex Palace of Assem­bly in Chandi­garh designed by Le Corbusier. Photo: Benjamin Hosking
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Le Corbusier, in the Capitol Complex chair, and Pierre Jeanneret

Decades later, when parts of the Capitol Complex fell into disuse or disre­pair, thou­sands of the chairs were left as reminders of the once lively occu­pa­tion. Discarded, they landed in garbage tips, dispersed across the Indian coun­try­side, far from those orig­i­nal moti­va­tions. Being alerted to what was happen­ing from afar, inter­na­tional design connois­seurs made trips to locate, collect and purchase these orig­i­nal pieces. In testa­ment to the dura­bil­ity of the design, many of the discarded chairs remained intact despite their age, requir­ing only minor restora­tion to bring them back to original condition.

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Discarded Authen­tic Capitol Complex chairs

Since the first exhi­bi­tions of these refur­bished collec­tions in 2009, the Capitol Complex furni­ture has had a second life: revered, cele­brated and sought-after. Today, some seventy years on from the orig­i­nal incep­tion, it is nearly impos­si­ble to browse inte­rior maga­zines or social media without seeing a cluster of Pierre Jean­neret Capitol Complex chairs.

But there is an under­cur­rent to this story of renais­sance; a dark side to the hyper-popu­lar­ity of the Capitol Complex chairs. Popu­lar­ity indi­cates wide­spread desire, and capi­tal­is­ing on that desire is an oppor­tu­nity for profit. And so, much like in the world of fast-fashion, furni­ture and object design is increas­ingly the victim of knock-offs, with a prolif­er­a­tion of  fake designer pieces appear­ing on the market. Fakes are para­sitic; their value depends completely on the real pieces. They live off the orig­i­nal design, cling to the aesthetic and brand, and ride the marketing waves. 

The preva­lence of fakes is a growing issue for the design indus­try. The replica furni­ture indus­try began in earnest in the mid-2000s, as a way to repro­duce the many iconic mid-century designs that were no longer protected by the copy­rights that had ceased years after their design­ers’ deaths. But changes in how we notice, iden­tify with and acquire objects for our homes have extended the role that fakes play in the global design land­scape. As our lives have shifted online, visual sharing plat­forms such as pinter­est and insta­gram have accel­er­ated not just the visi­bil­ity, but also the desir­abil­ity of specific objects and pieces. Suddenly, every­thing feels attain­able. If a certain chair reap­pears frequently on social media feeds, there is a sense that every­one else owns one — and that by asso­ci­a­tion, you should, and can, too. While vintage orig­i­nals from the Corbu­sian city at the base of the Himalayas might be in limited supply, an online search yields multi­ple dealers offer­ing prod­ucts that appear to have the same names, shapes and spec­i­fi­ca­tions. Clever market­ing makes the rela­tion­ship of these manu­fac­tur­ers to the orig­i­nal design and licenced repro­duc­ers even murkier. The growing preva­lence means many people are buying fakes without real­is­ing it, unaware of the hidden costs and impacts.