There are designers who design objects.
And then there are designers who design visions.
For Pietro Travaglini, design is not simply a technical discipline, but a borderland where art, research, and intuition meet. An architect and designer from Bologna, Travaglini has transformed design into a personal language through which he recounts the relationship between space, light, and movement.
In 2014, Travaglini was ambassador for the Affligem Momentum photography exhibition created by Giovanni Gastel for Heineken’s Affligem brand. In 2015, he participated in Milan Design Week with the exhibition Get Off The Ground at Superstudio, which was later replicated in Ortigia with the patronage of the Municipality and the Order of Architects. In the same year, he was selected by gallery owner Rossana Orlandi and opened his studio to the public during the first Bologna Design Week.
In 2016, he returned to exhibit at Superstudio during Milan Design Week with his Amadriadi lamp collection. Some of his works have also been presented in the Rossana Orlandi galleries in Milan and Porto Cervo.
Among his cultural initiatives, he created DeVision (Design Vision), a competition dedicated to design students in collaboration with the Museum of Industrial Heritage in Bologna. He has also taught at the Libera Università delle Arti (L.UN.A) and participated in numerous fairs and events dedicated to design and contemporary art.
His career began in architecture, but over time he has opened up to a more intimate and experimental dimension: design has become a space for inner exploration, a place where ideas take shape through constantly evolving prototypes. Each project is conceived in the studio and develops like a living organism, designed to stimulate the imagination and possible applications.
At the heart of his research are essential elements—light, movement, space—which for Travaglini (here is his bio) represent real design necessities.
Light, in particular, becomes an emotional language capable of generating intertwining and suggestions, transforming the object into a visual and sensory experience.
His design lives precisely on that fine line between art and design that is constantly crossed, charged with dreams, desires, and intuitions often suggested by the observation of nature and always aimed at a single recipient: man.
The result is objects that seem to defy time. Design pieces capable of crossing different eras, unaffected by trends and ready to transform themselves, adapting to the personality and needs of those who choose them.
It is from this vision that our conversation with Pietro Travaglini begins.
Pietro Travaglini, you define design as an “inner search.” How important is personal introspection when an idea becomes a project?
In my creative process, inner search is a constant that I often draw on, a memory, a feeling, a particular smell.
It is the distinctive trait that I leave in the soul of the project. Introspection becomes a bubble in which I have no filters and feel that unbridled freedom that can clear my mind of the preconceptions that a design entails. So the idea becomes a project the moment I move from feeling or intuition to the actual grounding, and that’s where another challenge begins: the technical one.
In your work, design seems to be more of a narrative than a function. Do you feel more like a storyteller, a designer, or an explorer?
An explorer, with a great desire to research and rather curious.
You spoke of design as a “perfect limbo” between art and design. Is it a place of balance or creative conflict?
Design is a perfect limbo between art and engineering which, on closer inspection, opens up infinite creative possibilities where art covers a feeling, an emotion that engineering translates into a unique piece with practical value; it is a continuous dialogue that maintains perfect balance. In my opinion, this is the result of a successful project.
Your objects are created as prototypes that are “in constant motion.” Is movement a conceptual necessity or a response to our unstable times?
It is a conceptual necessity. I have always imagined and designed so that the object, lamp, or piece of furniture is not unique but rather a set of functions that does not feel the passage of time and is capable of being so strong that it can be reinterpreted. Sometimes by changing its form or function or simply by using tricks that inevitably emphasize my narrative.
In your designs, light is not just a technical element but an emotional language. Is there a recurring emotion that you try to convey through light?
Yes, its materiality. In my designs, light has an almost supporting physical consistency. What we perceive through light is an unconscious sensation that makes us feel good or not.
Light is capable of amplifying our feelings; just think of how we feel when we watch a sunset or are surrounded by the cold neon lights of an emergency room. This feeling becomes even more important when we combine it with any piece of furniture; it becomes a narrative, a play of shadows or solid matter.
Does designing light mean controlling it or allowing it a form of freedom?
Light is one of the greatest symbols of freedom par excellence. The designer has the task of controlling it, shaping it to their will, and, why not, giving it form.
Many of your ideas seem to be inspired by observations of nature. What does nature teach you that contemporary design has forgotten?
Nature is our greatest teacher. Human progress has always been inspired by nature, just as all great inventions have sprung from careful observation of nature itself. We are part of natural cycles, in total symbiosis even when we think we have tamed it. What nature teaches us is the poetry that contemporary design has forgotten. The frantic desire to declare oneself eco-sustainable at all costs in favor of the mainstream has split design in two, which has suddenly lost its charm and become a mere commodity. Nature, on the other hand, preserves “beauty” within itself.
Is there a natural gesture—a shadow, a growth, an intertwining—that often recurs in your work?
Perhaps my tendency toward dynamism, which I try to impress upon my projects even when they are immobile.
You speak of “timeless” objects, capable of coexisting in different eras. Is this a form of resistance to fashion or an attempt to escape time itself?
It is normal to be influenced, even unconsciously, by the many stimuli that society projects onto us. Nevertheless, when thought is free and we return to the dreamer child, we can give the project a sort of “immortality” that is able to escape time and the most enduring fashions. For example, in some of my projects I have used archaic or dreamlike forms, pure geometries that tend to stimulate the perception of the familiar, of the familiar. They help to make the project and the idea behind it more acceptable. It is a trick that allows a complement to coexist even in different eras.
Do you think an object can age along with its owner, changing meaning over time?
The idea of changeability that can accompany you over time is a poetic form that appeals to me greatly and at times moves me because it is the focus of my design research. When, through the use of materials and their oxidation, we have objects that age with us and sometimes change for the worse, but remind us of who we are and where we come from, then we have given meaning to time.
Your projects are aimed at a single subject: man. Do you design more for the body or for the mind of those who will use the object?
I try to do both, but probably more for the mind. I like to tickle it, intrigue it, and sometimes amaze it. I try not to set myself limits.
The possibility of transformation and personalization seems central to your work. How much space should the buyer have in completing the work?
The multifunctionality of my designs gives space in itself to a sort of customization and the possibility for the buyer to personalize the object. Especially when the request is for a unique piece tailored to the needs, space, and function. The dialogue with the buyer becomes important because my proposal is authorial; I become the interpreter of their requests with my vision, my style, and my research. It is important to understand the need to be satisfied.
Is design still capable of generating desire today, or has it become merely a response to needs?
Today, design is as it has always been, a child of its time. It would be interesting to explore what kind of time we are in.
There are many challenges ahead of us, starting with the role of dedicated AI, the ability to maintain a real relationship with the material and not just virtual use. As well as knowing how to describe a project that can stand the test of time and not bow to technological speed. Bringing perception back to the classic five senses will be the theme we will face.
What scares you most about the future of contemporary design?
Honestly, I’m not afraid of the future, partly because we are in a moment of transition and it is difficult to predict how things will turn out. There are many variables, and we will discover most of them as we go along. I believe that today, rather than making predictions, it is a time to listen. I see the future as an opportunity and a stimulus for all the new challenges that await us.
If you had to define your work not as a designer but as a human act, what word would you choose?
If I had to define my work, I would liken it more to a “practice of personal ethics” as a daily exercise dedicated to increasing our sense of wonder towards what surrounds us.
Thank you!
