Clinging On
Piton by Tom Chung for Muuto (image: Fabian Frinzel).
For those who don’t know, a piton is a superannuated piece of climbing equipment: a metal spike with an eyelet, which is hammered into crevices in the rock for protection and later laboriously extracted. It is rarely used today, having been replaced by more advanced gear that does not damage the rock face.
Piton is also the name of a new lamp by Rotterdam-based designer Tom Chung. It is an apt title for a light that takes the basic form of an increasingly outmoded type: the handheld torch, whose function has, like many other things, been superseded by the smartphone. Perhaps as a result of this, Piton has the skeuomorphic appeal of an archetype – a quality that designers past and present have capitalised on. “There is a certain obvious lineage between Mayday by Konstantin Grcic and Parentesi by Achille Castiglioni and Pio Manzù,” admits Chung. The Mayday lamp, from 1999, imitates the shape of a megaphone while Parentesi, from 1971, resembles a bare-bones spotlight rig – like Piton, both mimic technical equipment.
In its promotional material, Piton leans into its climbing associations – Muuto has had it photographed suspended by ropes and carabiners. But this is mostly marketing spin. “All things gorp [“Good Old Raisins and Peanuts”, the classic hiker’s snack] have become super mainstream since the pandemic,” notes Chung drily. If you buy the product, you will receive the armature and a charging cable – no slings or ropes, although the standcum-handle lends itself to creative rigging. To Chung, the key feature of Piton is that it can traverse indoor and outdoor environments.
Beyond Piton’s gorpcore styling, there is, perhaps, a deeper appeal to aestheticised tools. Technical equipment is typically durable and repairable by necessity – it possesses many qualities that the jacked-up, novelties-obsessed world of haute design would do well to embrace. This is an attitude that Chung borrows from US artist-designer Andrea Zittel, who runs the Institute for Investigative Living out of a property in Joshua Tree, testing the limits of the amount of stuff she needs in her home. “For example,” says Chung, “she only uses bowls, because she says you can eat out of a bowl, drink out of a bowl – everything else is superfluous.”
Zittel’s approach is “similar to when you’re going camping or hiking or doing anything in extreme conditions,” says Chung. It’s not typically necessary in a domestic context, but “what,” he asks, “if you did take that approach to your home? What would that look like?” Or, more provocatively: what if the 21st-century domestic interior is, in fact, a product of extreme conditions?
Words Kristina Rapacki
Photographs Fabian Frinzel
This article was originally published in Disegno #34. To buy the issue, or subscribe to the journal, please visit the online shop.