CHRISTENING TREE
I always prick up my ears when the city of Odense is mentioned, and in autumn 2021, I happened to notice the following announcement: ‘Today is the inauguration of the christening tree in Odense Cathedral.
The tree was created by designer Akiko Kuwahata and cabinetmaker Ken Winther, aka Akiko Ken Made. Many thanks to the Albani Foundation, which kindly donated the funds for the christening tree.’
From HÅNDVÆRK bookazine no. 6 published in 2022
Odense is the native town of Hans Christian Andersen. With a population of 180,000, it is Denmark’s third biggest city.
I lived in Odense from 1978 to 1990. Back then, the Cathedral was my local parish church.
Odense is also home to the culture centre Brandts Klædefabrik.
Brandts Klædefabrik, a former weaving mill, is home to the Funen Art Academy, the art centre Brandts Kunsthal, the cinema Cafebiografen the museum Tidens Samling and a wide range of restaurants and shops.
One of the shops is owned by Dina Vejling.
She is a promotor of modern Danish studio craft by artists working in wood, ceramics, glass and metal. The shop Dina Vejling – Dansk Kunsthåndværk was founded in 2005.
Dina is a regular church-goer and served on the parochial council for Odense Cathedral until the most recent council election. Now she is a member of the Cathedral’s activity committee and was the main driver behind an initiative to invite a number of artists to submit their proposal for a ‘christening tree’ for the Cathedral and was involved in selecting Akiko Ken Made for the project.
I have meet Akiko and Ken on several occasions and have long been wanting to visit them, and the Cathedral is always worth a visit.
I had a hunch Dina Vejling might be involved, so I rang her first to hear if she would meet me at the Cathedral. Next, I rang Akiko and Ken to hear if I could visit them in their studio.
A what tree?
The light-coloured, friendly tree welcomes us as we enter Odense Cathedral.
By googling in preparation for my visit, I now know that more and more Danish churches are currently installing christening trees to play a part in an updated christening ritual intended to tie the family closer to the church. With some variation, the ritual involves hanging an apple (or an angel) with the child’s name on the tree after the christening. After two years, the apples are ‘harvested’ at a special event in the church, and the child takes the apple home.
‘We wanted a strong basis for making our selection, so we made sure there were funds to pay the invited artists to prepare a sketch and a 1:5 model of their proposal for the christening tree,’ Dina explains as she proudly presents both Akiko Ken Made’s tree and the accompanying wooden box. The box is designed as a traditional Japanese toolbox and contains template sheets with beautifully coloured apples, inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s paper cuts, each one with a linen string and a silver bead. When the apple is assembled, the bead is placed inside the core of the apple, like a seed symbolizing the growing child.
‘We christen some fifty to seventy children a year in the Cathedral,’ says Dina, who looks forward to seeing a tree full of apples before the first harvest in autumn 2023.
The Danish National Evangelical Lutheran Church has a long tradition for inviting artists and craft makers to decorate the church space. The selection is made by the parochial church councils, often in consultation with experts. During the 1980s and 1990s, Hanne Vedel (mentioned in bookazine 6) became known for her church textiles: communion table cloths, antependiums and chasubles. When I visited her, I asked if one had to be a believer to make church textiles. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, implying that she is a believer and a church-goer, so that she cannot say how it might be if she were not.
What I wanted to know was, basically, whether a work of art becomes clerical art because it is placed in a church or due to the artist’s own beliefs and ability to incorporate religious aspects in his or her art.
I asked Dina the same question, because I know that Akiko is a practising Buddhist. Dina says that she perceives Akiko’s spirituality as being very open and that she is thus fully qualified to decorate a Danish clerical space.
As inhabitants of Denmark we have a constitutional right to assemble in order to worship in the manner that agrees with our convictions, a right that is limited only by the necessary consideration for law and order overall. This religious freedom also includes the right not to have a religion. However, Christianity enjoys a special status, and Denmark is defined as a Christian nation. The Danish National Evangelical Lutheran Church has a special position according to the Constitution and receives financial support from the state. Membership of the national church is achieved through christening.
Each individual church that is part of the national Danish church is led by a parochial church council. The council consists of volunteers who are democratically elected for a four-year period by the parish members. The council sets the course for the church’s work, including what activities should be arranged in the church.
Akiko Kuwahata,
Education: bachelor’s degree from Nihon University College of Art in Tokyo, 1999
Guest student at Aarhus School of Architecture, 2004–2005
Born and raised in Japan
Lives and works in Kokkedal north of Copenhagen
Married to and has a working partnership with
Ken Winther,
Education: completed his training as a cabinetmaker at PP Møbler in 1995
Born and raised in North Jutland, Denmark
Lives and works in Kokkedal
Akiko Ken Made designs and makes utilitarian objects in wood: trays, serving boards, bread baskets, jewellery boxes, coat hooks, picture frames and other items which are sold from their own web shop selected retailers, mainly in Denmark. They also have a limited furniture range.
In recent years, they have developed and sold tableware sets to Michelin restaurants in Denmark and abroad.
Akiko Ken Made is a member of the Danish Cabinetmakers’ Autumn Exhibition and produces a new bespoke piece of furniture for each year’s exhibition.
The duo is represented by Galerie Maria Wettergren in Paris.
In Kokkedal
We are seated at the dining table in Akiko and Ken’s 1970s villa in Kokkedal north of Copenhagen. Behind their private home I glimpse a beautiful annex that houses their joint studio.
Akiko serves tea and Ken’s homemade apple chips.
Everything is beautiful and neat.
The oak used to make the christening tree for Odense Cathedral comes from Eskjær Manor in Salling near the Limfjorden inlet.
In 2013, the storm ‘Bodil’ knocked over several 150-year-old trees.
Close to Salling, in Oddense (not to be confused with Odense), which is Ken’s hometown, lies Træmuseet (the Wood Museum), which organizes a number of activities, including recurring wood sculpture symposiums for sculptors and wood turners.
In 2014, the oak that fell during the storm was used as the raw material in such a symposium.
When the symposium was over, there were two logs left over, which were cut up and air-dried before they eventually ended up in Ken and Akiko’s studio, where they were processed and resurrected as the christening tree for Odense Cathedral.
Is this a typical back story for your material, I wonder.
‘We produce proving baskets for GØTZ Bread Projects, owned by chef and sourdough baker Jesper Gøtz, who has a bakery and a baking school in Raadvad, right next door to weaver Karin Carlander’s studio. For the Gøtz project, we use Kalmar pine, because it is important to Jesper that we use Nordic timber,’ says Ken. ‘Our smaller utilitarian objects require very little material,’ he explains and turns to Akiko: ‘Your jewellery boxes, for example, they’re mainly made from offcuts from PP Møbler. They would have ended up as firewood if I hadn’t taken them home. Our biggest challenge in terms of material is that we tend to hoard, so we risk running out of room. It makes no sense to rent a container to store discarded wood, so with that in mind, we have to accept that some of our scraps end up in the firewood basket.’ Akiko comments, ‘It feels natural to use local wood types. On the other hand, if a design calls for a different wood type, having the object turn out the way I want is a higher priority than using local wood.’
Working together
‘I have many years’ experience as a cabinetmaker, and Akiko has the design insight. That broad scope makes us independent and means that we can make whatever we like, without needing to ask anyone’s permission,’ says Ken, and Akiko agrees: ‘Your design education took place in the workshop, you have a good physical understanding of form.’Ken adds, ‘I grew up in Salling, I spent my some of my early years in my grandfather’s cabinetmaking workshop, which was just one among many in the area. I started going along to furniture shows when I was a boy, and I was just ten when I signed up for an apprenticeship at PP Møbler.’
The couple met in 2004, while Akiko was studying furniture design at Aarhus School of Architecture. She already had a BA in traditional Japanese architecture from Tokyo and four years’ work experience from a cabinetmaking workshop, also in Tokyo.
The workshop regularly accepted Danish cabinetmakers on temporary stays. One of them was designer and cabinetmaker Rasmus Fenhann, who became a friend of theirs. While Akiko was working in the workshop, her Japanese master’s son went to Denmark to study Danish furniture classics and returned with enthusiastic stories of the place.
These encounters increased Akiko’s interest in Danish design.
When she decided to go to Aarhus in 2004, her goal was to study first-hand not just what Danish design looks like and how it is made but also how Danes live with design.
‘When I had completed my studies at Aarhus School of Architecture, I moved to Copenhagen to live with Ken. I spent a few years learning Danish, and I applied for traineeships. I expected to work as a designer,’ says Akiko. ‘Among other places, I spent six months in Cecilie Manz’s studio, where I learned a lot. I admire her respect for craftsmanship as a condition for industrial design.’
‘At the time, I had no intention of establishing my own studio,’ says Ken. ‘I was happy to have a job and to have free time. We established the company because Akiko didn’t find a job. We started on a small scale. Everyone who works at PP Møbler (mentioned in bookazine 6) has a key to the workshop, and using it in one’s free time is both allowed and approved. At the time, I was working full-time as a cabinetmaker.’ Akiko adds, ‘I was helping out in the workshop, doing odd jobs, it is nice to be able to contribute.’
Everyday life
Since 2010, Akiko Ken Made has been based in Kokkedal.
Akiko has long since stopped going to the furniture factory, they both have plenty of work in their own studio.
Ken, on the other hand, only recently chose to leave his day job. Initially, he reduced his time at PP Møbler to three days a week and spent the rest of his time in their joint company. Next, he changed his hours at PP Møbler to two days a week …
‘Now the days have found a natural rhythm. We get up, walk the dog, work, have breakfast when we’re hungry, continue working until we’re tired, have dinner, and often we end up sketching, outlining ideas for new products at the dining table. Often, we also work through the weekend,’ says Ken, clearly content.
What has it been like for you to get a foothold in Denmark, I ask Akiko. She replies that she finds it interesting to work in Denmark, because it gives her an opportunity to learn about Danish culture. She says that she sees many other friends, other craft makers as well as friends in entirely different fields of work. ‘It has made a big difference for your sense of belonging here that you are a practising Buddhist, so that you have your own circle of people,’ Ken comments. Akiko confirms his observation and says about her faith, ‘In Buddhism, enlightenment is not some mysterious state. Instead, it is a state that is present in all life, a state full of wisdom, vitality and compassion. It means that the individual person can shape their own fate and find contentment in everyday activities, and through this we can come to grasp the meaning of being alive.’
Do you practise Buddhism, I ask Ken. He does not, he is not spiritual, he says, although he lives in accordance with Buddhist principles.
‘Another interface is our clients. In recent years, we have developed many of our products in collaboration with chefs. I enjoy that,’ says Akiko. ‘The best outcome is when we can touch the materials while we talk.’ Ken adds, ‘Most of the restaurants we work with are Michelin restaurants. They have the same high professional standards that we have, so we experience a fundamental and mutual respect.’
Ken comments that they mostly mention the restaurants because they have recently had many commissions in this field, but that they also really appreciate working for private customers and shops and creating objects for exhibitions.
The furniture is a different story. ‘We would like to reach a wider audience with our furniture,’ says Ken and makes it clear that this is one of the reasons why he is now committing full-time to Akiko Ken Made.
Until now, the couple have created furniture exclusively for exhibitions, in part in collaboration with Galerie Maria Wettergren in Paris and in part for the Cabinetmakers’ Autumn Exhibition in Copenhagen, for which they annually develop a piece of furniture based on a specific theme. ‘It’s great to be given a theme,’ says Akiko, ‘that challenges us to be innovative.’ She proudly presents an early version of a small table that will be presented at the upcoming Cabinetmakers’ Autumn Exhibition.
I ask whether they consider it prestigious to be a part of the Cabinetmakers’ Autumn Exhibition.
Akiko looks at me as if she does not grasp the meaning of the word ‘prestige’.
Ken expands on my question for Akiko and ends up answering it himself: ‘We do what we do because we can’t resist.’Akiko adds, ‘The exhibitions help us build a network. What is meaningful is not simply to make objects for our own sake but because others can enjoy what we make.’
Jeg er altid lidt ekstra opmærksom, når talen falder på Odense, og med et halvt øre hørte jeg i efteråret 2021 følgende: “Så oprandt dagen for indvielse af Domkirkens dåbstræ. Træet er udført af designer Akiko Kuwahata og snedker Ken Winther, alias Akiko Ken Made. Stor tak til Albani Fonden, der har skænket midlerne til fremstilling af dåbstræet.”
Fra HÅNDVÆRK bookazine no. 6, som kan købes her:
OM
Akiko Kuwahata,
Uddannelse: bachelor fra Nihon University College of Art i Tokyo 1999
Gæstestuderende på Arkitektskolen Aarhus 2004-2005
Født og opvokset: Japan
Bor og arbejder i Kokkedal
Gift med og kollega til
Ken Winther,
Uddannelse: udlært møbelsnedker hos PP Møbler 1995
Født og opvokset i Nordjylland, Danmark
Bor og arbejder i Kokkedal
Akiko Ken Made designer og fremstiller brugsobjekter i træ: bakker, serveringsbrædder, brødkurve, smykkeskrin, knagerog billedrammer blandt andet, som de sælger via egen webshop og hos et udvalg af forhandlere, primært i Danmark,foruden i mindre udstrækning møbler.
De har de senere år udviklet og leveret service til flere danske og internationale Michelin-restauranter.
Akiko Ken Made er medlem af Snedkernes Efterårsudstilling, til hvilken de hvert år fremstiller et nyt møbel.
De er i stald hos Gallerie Marie Wettergren i Paris.
Odense er H.C. Andersens fødeby, den er med sine 180.000 indbyggere Danmarks tredjestørste by.
Odense kaldte jeg hjemme fra 1978 til 1990. Domkirken var dengang min lokale folkekirke.
I Odense ligger også Brandts Klædefabrik.
Brandts Klædefabrik danner rammen om Det Fynske Kunstakademi, Kunsthallen Brandts, Cafebiografen, museet Tidens Samling og en lang række restauranter og butikker.
En af butikkerne ejes af Dina Vejling.
Hun er formidler af moderne dansk kunsthåndværk fra kunstnere, som arbejder med træ, keramik, glas og metal. Dina Vejling – Dansk kunsthåndværk blev etableret i 2005.
Dina er aktiv kirkegænger, hun har siddet i menighedsrådet i Odense Domkirke frem til seneste menighedsrådsvalg. Nu er hun medlem af kirkens aktivitetsudvalg og har været primus motor i først at invitere et antal kunstnere til at byde på opgaven ‘dåbstræ til kirken’, siden i at udvælge Akiko Ken Made til at udføre den.
Akiko Ken Made, som jeg har truffet ved flere lejligheder, havde jeg længe haft lyst til at besøge, og Domkirken kunne jeg let forestille mig et gensyn med.
Jeg anede, at Dina Vejling var involveret, og ringede derfor i første omgang til hende for at høre, om hun ville møde mig i kirken. Siden til Akiko og Ken for at høre, om de ville tage imod besøg på deres værksted.
Hvilket træ
Det lyse, venlige træ byder velkommen, når man træder ind i kirkerummet i Odense.
Google har hjulpet mig på forhånd til at forstå, at flere og flere folkekirker anskaffer dåbstræer og lader dem indgå i et moderniseret dåbsritual, med henblik på at knytte dåbsfamilien nærmere til kirken. Med lidt variation går ritualet ud på, at der ved dåben hænges et æble med barnets navn på træet (i nogle kirker engle). Når æblet har hængt i to år, høstes det ved en særlig kirkelig begivenhed, og barnet får sit æble med hjem.
“Vi har villet træffe vores valg på et gennemarbejdet grundlag, derfor har vi sikret, at der var midler til, at de inviterede kunstnere kunne blive aflønnet for at lave skitse og en 1:5-model af deres forslag til dåbstræ”, forklarer Dina, mens hun med stolthed viser både Akiko Ken Mades træ og den ledsagende trækasse frem. Kassen er udformet som en traditionel japansk værktøjskasse og indeholder stanseark med smukt farvelagte æbler, inspireret af H.C. Andersens papirklip, side om side med hørsnor og en lille sølvperle, som, efterhånden som æblerne samles, monteres i ‘kernehuset’ som symbol på kernen, altså frøet, det lille menneskefrø.
“Vi døber 50-70 børn om året i Domkirken”, fortæller Dina og ser frem til et bugnende træ inden første høst i efteråret 2023.
I den danske folkekirke er der en lang tradition for at invitere kunstnere og kunsthåndværkere indenfor, når der skal udsmykkes. Værkerne udvælges af menighedsrådene, ofte i samråd med fagfolk. Således blev Hanne Vedel (omtalt i bookazine 6) i 1980’erne og 1990’erne kendt for sine kirketekstiler; alterbordstæpper, antependier og messehagler. Da jeg besøgte hende, spurgte jeg, om man skal være troende for at lave kirketekstiler. “Jeg ved det ikke”, svarede hun, – underforstået, Hanne Vedel er troende og har sin gang i kirken og kan derfor ikke svare på, hvordan det ville forholde sig, hvis det modsatte havde været tilfældet.
Mit spørgsmål var med andre ord, bliver et kunstværk kirkekunst, fordi det tager bolig i kirken, eller på grund af den udøvende kunstners egen tro og evne til at inkorporere religiøse lag i sit værk.
Jeg spurgte Dina om det samme, det gjorde jeg, fordi jeg ved, at Akiko er praktiserende buddhist. Dina svarer, at hun oplever Akikos spiritualitet som værende meget åben, og at hun derfor er fuldt kvalificeret til at udsmykke den danske folkekirke.
I Kokkedal
Vi har sat os til rette ved spisebordet i Akikos og Kens 70’er-villa i Kokkedal nord for København. Bag deres private hjem anes en smuk tilbygning, som rummer deres fælles værksted.
Akiko serverer Kens hjemmelavede æblechips og en kop te.
Alt er smukt og sirligt.
Egetræet til Domkirkens dåbstræ stammer fra Eskjær Hovedgård i Salling nær Limfjorden.
I 2013 væltede Bodil-stormen et antal 150 år gamle træer.
Tæt på Salling, i Oddense (ikke at forveksle med Odense), som er Kens hjemby, ligger Træmuseet, der blandt andre aktiviteter jævnligt afholder et træskulptursymposium for skulptører og trædrejere.
I 2014 blev egetræet, som væltede under Bodil-stormen, brugt som materiale.
Da symposiet var slut, var der to kævler i overskud, de blev skåret op og sendt til lufttørring, for slutteligt at havne på Ken og Akikos værksted, hvor de er blevet forarbejdet og er genopstået som dåbstræet til Domkirken i Odense.
Er dette en typisk fortælling om jeres materialevalg, forhører jeg mig?
“Vi fremstiller hævekurve for GØTZ Bread Projects, ejet af kok og surdejsbager Jesper Gøtz, som har sit bageri og sin bageskole i Raadvad dør om dør med væver Karin Carlander. Til Gøtz-projektet arbejder vi med Kalmar-fyr, fordi det for Jesper er af afgørende betydning, at der er tale om nordisk træ”, fortæller Ken og fortsætter, “til vores mindre brugsting er materialeforbruget yderst beskedent”, og henvendt til Akiko, “dine smykkeskrin, for eksempel, er fortrinsvis fremstillet af klodser, som er afskæring fra PP Møbler. Klodserne ville være endt som brænde, hvis ikke jeg havde taget dem med hjem.
Vores største materialemæssige udfordring er, at vi gemmer og gemmer og skal passe på, for ellers kan vi ikke være her til sidst. Det giver ingen mening at leje en container for at opbevare afskæringstræ, og med det udgangspunkt er vi nødt til at acceptere at nogle af vores rester havner i brændekurven”. Akiko tager over, “det føles ret naturligt at arbejde med de lokale træsorter. På den anden side, hvis jeg virkelig gerne, til et design, vil anvende en anden træsort, så er det vigtigere, at objektet bliver, som jeg vil have det, end om jeg anvender lokalt træ.”
At samarbejde
“Jeg har mange års erfaring som snedker, og Akiko har den designmæssige forståelse. At have den bredde gør os uafhængige, vi kan lave, hvad vi vil, uden at skulle spørge nogen om lov”, siger Ken, og Akiko istemmer, “din designuddannelse er foregået på værkstedet, du har en kropslig forståelse for form”. Ken uddyber, “jeg er vokset op i Salling, jeg har trådt mine barnesko på min bedstefars snedkerværksted, som var et blandt mange i området. Jeg har været med på møbelmessen, siden jeg var lille, og jeg var bare ti år gammel, da jeg skrev mig op til en læreplads hos PP Møbler.”
Parret mødte hinanden, da Akiko i 2004 læste møbeldesign på arkitektskolen i Århus. I bagagen havde hun en BA i traditionel japansk arkitektur i Tokyo og fire års arbejde på et snedkerværksted, ligeledes i Tokyo.
På værkstedet kom der danske snedkere på udveksling, blandt andet designer og snedker Rasmus Fenhann, som siden har været en del af vennekredsen. Akikos japanske snedkermesters søn rejste, mens Akiko arbejdede på værkstedet, til Danmark for at studere danske møbelklassikere og vendte begejstret tilbage.
Det var ad de veje, Akikos interesse for dansk design blev skabt.
Da hun i 2004 valgte at rejse til Århus, var det for på nærmere hold at undersøge, ikke blot hvordan dansk design tager sig ud og fremstilles, men også hvordan danskerne lever med deres design.
“Da jeg var færdig på skolen i Århus, flyttede jeg til København til Ken, et par år gik med at lære dansk, og derefter søgte jeg praktik. Jeg forestillede mig, at jeg skulle arbejde som formgiver”, fortæller Akiko, “jeg var blandt andet et halvt år hos Cecilie Manz, hvor jeg lærte meget. Jeg har stor respekt for hendes respekt for håndværket som forudsætning for industrielt design.”
“Jeg skulle på det tidspunkt absolut ikke være selvstændig”, fortæller Ken, “jeg var tilfreds med at gå på arbejde og at have fritid. Virksomheden etablerede vi, fordi Akiko ikke fik job. Vi begyndte i det små. Alle, som arbejder på PP Møbler (omtalt i bookazine 6), har nøgle til værkstedet, og det er både tilladt og anerkendt, at man benytter værkstedet i fritiden. På det tidspunkt arbejdede jeg fuld tid som møbelsnedker”, siger Ken, “og jeg hjalp til på værkstedet med forefaldende arbejde, det er dejligt at kunne bidrage”, supplerer Akiko.
Hverdagen
Siden 2010 har Akiko Ken Made haft adresse i Kokkedal.
For Akiko er det for længst slut med at tage på møbelfabrikken, parret har rigeligt at lave på værkstedet.
Ken derimod har først for nylig valgt at vinke farvel til sin ansættelse, først trappede han ned til tre dage om ugen hos PP Møbler, resten af tiden i den fælles virksomhed, siden til to dage hos PP Møbler…
“Nu har dagene deres egen rytme. Vi står op, går med hunden, arbejder, spiser morgenmad, når vi er sultne, fortsætter med at arbejde, til vi er trætte, spiser aftensmad, og ikke sjældent ender vi med at sidde over skitseblokken, med ideer til nye projekter ved spisebordet, og ofte arbejder vi også i weekenden”, fortæller en synligt tilfreds Ken.
Hvordan har det været for dig at få fodfæste i Danmark?, spørger jeg Akiko. Hun svarer, at det er spændende at arbejde i Danmark, for på den måde lærer man om den danske kultur. Hun fortæller, at hun har mange venner, som hun mødes med, både andre kunsthåndværkere og mennesker, som beskæftiger sig med noget helt andet. “Det har betydet meget for din tilknytning, at du er praktiserende buddhist og dermed har en egen kreds af mennesker”, siger Ken. Det bekræfter Akiko og siger om sin tro, “I buddhismen er oplysning er ikke en mystisk tilstand. Det er derimod en tilstand, som findes iboende alt liv, en tilstand fuld af visdom, livskraft og medfølelse. Det betyder, at den enkelte kan skabe sin egen skæbne og finde tilfredsstillelse i hverdagens aktiviteter og derigennem forstå meningen med at være i live.”
Praktiserer du buddhisme?, spørger jeg Ken. Det gør han ikke, han er ikke spirituel, siger han, men lever efter de buddhistiske principper.
“En anden kontaktflade er vores kunder, vi har de seneste år udviklet meget i samarbejde med kokke, det kan jeg godt lide”, siger Akiko, “det er bedst, når vi kan røre ved materialerne, mens vi taler”. “De fleste af de restauranter, vi har arbejdet med, er Michelin-restauranter”, uddyber Ken, “de har samme høje faglige niveau, som vi har, og vi oplever en grundlæggende og gensidig respekt.”
Ken siger, at de mest nævner restauranterne, fordi der på det seneste har været mange sådanne opgaver, men at de også er glade for deres private kunder og for deres samarbejde med butikkerne og for at lave objekter til udstillinger.
Møblerne er en anden historie. “Vi vil gerne mere ud over rampen med møblerne”, siger Ken og lader forstå, at det er et af formålene med, at han nu involverer sig i Akiko Ken Made på fuld tid.
Hidtil har parret udelukkende skabt møbler til udstillinger, dels i samarbejde med Gallerie Marie Wettergren i Paris, dels til Snedkernes Efterårsudstilling i København, hvor de hvert år udvikler med afsæt i et tema. “Det er rigtig dejligt at få et tema”, siger Akiko, “det udfordrer os til at tænke nyt” – hun fremviser med stolthed starten på et lille bord, som skal med på en kommende Snedkernes Efterårsudstilling.
Jeg spørger, om det er prestigefuldt for dem at være en del af Snedkernes Efterårsudstilling.
Akiko ser på mig, som om hun ikke forstår, hvad ordet prestige betyder.
Ken uddyber mit spørgsmål henvendt til Akiko og ender med at svare selv, “vi gør, hvad vi gør, fordi vi kan ikke lade være”. Akiko supplerer ned at sige, “udstillingerne giver netværk. Det, som giver mening, er ikke bare at fremstille objekter for vores egen skyld, men at det, vi frembringer, kan glæde og gavne andre.
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