5 minute read
Last Word: David Flack
The Next Right Thing
2020 was always going to be a big year for our studio, however, every event, idea and opportunity we had our sights on seemed to evaporate in March. My sister has worked within disease management, so I knew the reality of Covid-19.
I also watched the devastating affect the virus was having on Milan, a city I visit every year and hold very dear to my creative process. This was something we would live through for a minimum of 18 months, followed by a very deep and long recession. This was my fear talking.
In this moment of fear, I was able to think about the hospitality, events and art-based industries who were effectively shut down without any visibility of their future. Via our Instagram, I began to promote local businesses for hospitality and artists, who very quickly worked out creative ways to maintain employment for themselves and their teams. There was no thought process, it was just an instinct and the right thing to do.
As the weeks began to roll past and lockdown continued, I began devouring any doco or film related to disease control, while also binging on politics, climate change and films breaking down the largest social movement the world has seen with Black Lives Matter, it was hard not to be depressed and focus on a bleak future.
One afternoon, I needed something fresh and disconnected from our collapsing world. I stumbled across a documentary on the making for Frozen 2. Yes, I needed something that drastically removed. It turned out to be my biggest epiphany during 2020, and I’ve had a few. It was quite revealing of the art process, and within moments I was excited for not only my creative future, but our ability as humans to solve the most complex of problems in a human manner. During the writing process of Frozen 2, the director Chris Buck tragically lost his adult son. He took that darkness and light into the creation of the film.
In the doco, Buck openly talks about his depression, resulting in his inability to get out of bed. He was confronted with two options; follow the darkness or do one thing that will lead him in the opposite direction of fear. In this case it was getting out of bed, the next thing was to make his bed, followed by a drink of water. Very simple ideas, however in the pace of pre-2020, we somehow forgot to live in the moment and do what was instinctively right, regardless of how insignificant that action may seem.
There is a scene in the film where the main protagonist ‘Ana’ has her darkest moment and she sings about her depression. It wasn’t a moment I was expecting from a Disney princess film; but it was a simple message I needed in a moment surrounded by dread;
I've seen dark before, but not like this - This is cold, this is empty, this is numb - The life I knew is over, the lights are out - Hello, darkness, I'm ready to succumb - I follow you around, I always have - But you've gone to a place I cannot find - This grief has a gravity, it pulls me down - But a tiny voice whispers in my mind - You are lost, hope is gone - But you must go on - And do the next right thing.
The next right thing for Ana, is to pull herself up from the floor and place one foot in front of the other. With the knowledge of Buck’s experience, I realised that we all unconsciously either make choices walking towards fear or step away from it. I sometimes have been known to do both, however, these days when the choice comes my way, I find myself singing this song.
It makes us realise how important storytelling is and the important position artists hold within our communities. I’m now focused on the positive impact artists play on my day-to-day life – far greater than my phone or the media who both fight to stoke my fears for financial gain. In this epiphany I owned my own story telling within my work. I tell stories in the homes I design, using spatial planning, materiality, detail, texture, furniture and art to set the experience and world of my clients.
I start my process with art, well before I’ve designed the floorplan. I focus on the art and sculpture that will help me tell the home’s narrative. Whether it be Karen Black, Michael Lindeman, Ramesh Mario Nithiyendran or Darren Sylvester, the voice and storytelling abilities of these artists inspire the creations of my works.
I think everyone is clear that a return to the world we had pre-Covid is not the future we want for ourselves or our children. However, what is it that we want? We’ve shown in the last year how quickly our environment can heal itself and how our governments can look after our most vulnerable, we’ve also seen the corners cut to save a dime in industries like aged care. Art is transformative and we need to start listening to the stories around us, rather than seeing them as content. Art has always been the most important part our lives, however, I now have renewed excitement of the world I want to live in and create through my work, one that embraces art in all its forms, as the answer has always been through honest human storytelling.
I set up Flack Studio in 2014, and after only four years in the industry, I was still considered a junior. I felt the industry was too commercial and was not fulfilling my creative dreams. So, I had a choice; leave the design world and start a new career or create the world I wanted within interior architecture, one that engaged and collaborated with art. The latter was the hardest at the time, but its rewards have been endless.
So again, I did the next right thing and set up my studio with the intention of bridging the divide to make interior design/architecture an artform. When designing the studio you see pictured, I saw it as a gallery with the intent of making it a space that invited people into the world of interior architecture as an artform.
I’m excited by our future and know it will be one that celebrates voice and story, as it’s been the art of story that’s protected us during this pandemic and social shift. My next right thing is to submit this to Sullivan+Strumpf as it’s already a day late and then I’m taking my dogs Frank and Alfred for a walk.