HIGH TEA

Fashion brands have increasingly made their mark at Milan Design Week — not just through product, but through fully staged exhibitions and commissions. This year, however, was the fashion world’s most impressive showing yet. Gucci presented an exhibit of artists reinterpreting bamboo; Miu Miu hosted a literary club; Saint Laurent produced four never-before-seen Charlotte Perriand furniture designs; The Row débuted their first homeware collection of handwoven cashmere blankets and throws; Prada hosted the fourth edition of their Prada Frames symposium on the Gio Ponti and Giulo Minoletti-designed Arlecchino Train; and Loro Piana partnered with Dimorestudio on a cinematic vision of a 1980s Milanese apartment — a sunken velvet sofa, a round bed with a padded mohair headboard, mussed-up sheets, and broken plates scattered on the floor. But Loewe remains the benchmark for fashion-design crossovers, as is evidenced by its prestigious Craft Prize, which celebrates contemporary craft across a wide range of disciplines, from ceramics to textiles. And this Salone, they applied their deep interest in craft and process to the humble teapot with Loewe Teapots — Jonathan Anderson’s final project as creative director of the brand. The basement-level installation at the Palazzo Citterio featured 25 teapots by 25 artists, designers, and architects — each invited to interpret the vessel in their own material language.

Some of the 25 artists and designers Anderson selected to reinterpret the vessels took the format to its refined conclusion — for example, David Chipperfield’s glazed cobalt blue stoneware design, supported by a copper handle, is a perfectly petite archetype of the form. Others embellished the recognizable shape — rounded body, looped handle, short, curved spout — as was the case with Japanese industrial designer Naoto Fukasawa’s white teapot, adorned all over with dainty porcelain flowers. Kyoto-based studio Suna Fujita’s bird-shaped teapot, finished with colorful painted flowers, would look right at home in a whimsical English countryside cottage. Others twisted the brief beyond recognition — take Chinese architect Wang Shu’s sencha-green slab or German conceptual artist Rosemarie Trockel’s inverted pail-like designs. Both are too blocky and abstract to be functional for afternoon tea, but they work as sculptural design objects.

Woven leather made multiple appearances — Simone Fattal and ceramic artist Shozo Michikawa both used it for handles — while others experimented with texture and porosity. Ceramicists Lu Bin and Madoda Fani left their clay surfaces raw, with no glaze at all. Chinese ceramic artist Deng Xiping’s teapot was particularly acrobatic, its handle and spout positioned diagonally like limbs in motion. British painter Rose Wylie’s, meanwhile, was a direct riff on British tea nostalgia, with an oversized lid and scalloped edges.

Alongside the exhibition, Loewe released a series of limited-edition objects for sale: tea coasters made of woven leather, botanical charms in the shapes of bergamot and camomile, and an Earl Grey candle housed in a lustreware vessel brushed with real gold. There were also collaborative pieces with Spanish artisans using Galician clay — raw, silvered, or gilded — designed to echo the tiled façades of Casa Loewe. And in the corner, quietly gleaming: tinplate tea caddies made with Kyoto-based Kaikado, topped with brass-and-leather rabbits, mice, and flowers. Loewe even made their own teapot — a smooth, bellied shape in matte stoneware with a caramel-colored glaze — and released a small line of hand-knitted and crocheted animal-shaped tea cozies. On display at the Palazzo: a hedgehog, a rabbit, and a duck, too-cute companions designed to keep Loewe’s custom tea blend warm. Their signature blend, Fiori e Sapori, is a floral black tea infused with lemon verbena, Moroccan rose, chamomile, and Calabrian bergamot.

It’s not the first time Loewe has gone all in on an object type — past Salone exhibitions have tackled stick chairs, lamps, and woven baskets — but the teapot felt especially fitting, given that we’re on the brink of a matcha shortage and I’ve seen TikToks devoted entirely to the elegance of a clean, uninterrupted pour. But Loewe proved the versatility of the teapot as a design object, beyond coveted antiques, traditional craftwork, and domestic utility. And just in time for tea.