In anticipation of An Exhibition For Modern Living at the Detroit Institute Arts in 1949, Alexander Girard penned musings on what it meant to be a “modern” designer. He organized his ideas into categories including “space,” “romance-magic,” “nature-beauty,” “morals-honesty,” “tradition,” “periods vs. modern,” and “fashion and styles.” Once he established these delineations, he created a comprehensive guide on how to consider the question “what it is to be modern designer?” Part didactic instruction but mostly more personal and poetic notions, the guide is a clear expression of how he saw the world and the work he wanted to do while in it.
Sometimes his notes even seem contradictory with adages such as “Don’t live in the past” and “Modern of today is 50 years old,” but they illuminate the inherent paradox alive inside any creative person: How do we approach the task of innovation or that which is to be considered “modern” when there is no truly original idea? While my grandfather thought and felt deeply about what had come before him and where he was going, it was his focus on the present and trying to solve the problems of the day for humans in their lived environment that brought him the greatest joy. Many people who worked with him have remarked upon his distinct lack of ego in his creative practice, and one can feel that in this manifesto as well. It wasn’t about innovation, discovery, or invention for the sake of fame and praise but instead a question of how we can best live in the world we have today, right now with all its beauty and challenges.
One line in particular has stuck out to me and made such an impression that it has become the overarching theme when looking at the vast legacy of Alexander Girard: Let the Sun In.
One could find this whimsical, sweet—even a bit naïve—but I have come to see it as the primary lens through which I understand my grandfather’s life and work as well as how I approach my own. When I think about this line as a mandate, it brings awareness to the intention of my day and my creative practice. Where are the places in my life that I can find more light—not just literally but also where light represents risks, invention, kindness, vulnerability, levity, and warmth? Where can I challenge the virtual and physical boundaries that I exist within to illuminate the new, have confidence in the known, and accept what is revealed?
I think the meaning behind this was multifaceted for our grandfather, as evidenced in many corners of his work. The literal image of the sun was a central graphic motif that he included from his earliest work to the very last projects of his career. The sun was also a key consideration in all architectural projects, especially when he began to inhabit already built structures in New Mexico, where it was more challenging to penetrate existing walls and ceilings to let the sun in. I remember vividly the entrance hallway that brought you from the front door to the living room, kitchen, and further reaches of the house we grew up visiting. In the original design this was a dark corridor without much relationship to the outside, but after my grandfather’s intervention, it became a light-filled atrium, a window framing a small courtyard filled with plants on the exterior and bringing a warm southern exposure to a large family of cacti, while prisms populated the built-in bench of the interior. The space offered a bright welcome for anyone entering the home and brought light into the living room that would have otherwise remained a dark space trapped in the center of the layout.
Perhaps his most famous and recognizable tribute to the sun was his work for La Fonda del Sol. Looking at this project today it is easy to take for granted the colorful graphics, the menu that included multicultural cuisines, and the overall concept of a themed restaurant. However, in 1961 when it opened, this was incredibly new for New York City, especially located in the Time-Life building in midtown Manhattan. Profoundly influenced by his time spent traveling throughout Central and South America, Girard noticed that the sun was a ubiquitous symbol and felt it was an ideal theme to represent these many diverse countries and cultures. By focusing on the sun both in motif and feeling, Girard was able to create a dining experience infused with warmth, color, flavor, culture, and joy, which left a strong impression on all who were able to experience it.
His extensive traversing of the globe allowed him not only to amass thousands of pieces of folk art but also to meet their makers and learn about the context in which the arts and crafts were made. From a visual standpoint, the symbol of the sun was present in almost every country and tradition he encountered; in addition, he also observed and understood the power of the actual sun in agrarian communities, varied religious ceremonies, and even advertising and packaging, which he often documented or collected. In presenting a singular iconic symbol from multiple countries, cultures, and traditions in a new context, Girard created the opportunity to consider our human connection on a deeper level.
And this universalism seems to be the central axis from which my grandfather created his work. The sun is life for us all. No matter where you live, what language you speak, what your financial standing is, or what you look like, the sun is central to your existence. I believe it is this universal and empirical truth that most informed the legacy of Alexander Girard. The definition of what it means to be modern continues to be in question. What technology is truly beneficial for the earth and its many inhabitants? How do we innovate without losing our knowledge of the past or harming what lies ahead? How do we stay present with an ever-increasing awareness and fear that our current actions may very well be ruining the possibility of a future?
I don’t believe there is a definitive answer to these challenging questions; it is an evolving inquiry that is both individual and collective. But I do think it’s useful to come back to the idea of letting the sun in as we consider and design for a future that works for all: Continuing to seek the ways we relate to one another while still honoring differences is a crucial balance that must be worked towards as the outcome of our lives and those of the generations to come are inextricably linked. Where there is light there is clarity, where there is joy there is generosity, and where there is warmth there is life. Let the sun in.
Aleishall Girard Maxon is an artist who, along with her brother Kori Girard, co-directs Girard Studio. She lives and works in Berkeley, CA.
Alexander Girard: Let the Sun In by Todd Oldham and Kiera Coffee is a new monograph from Phaidon Press.
