Interview with Mostafa ARVANDBARMCHI
Mostafa Arvandbarmchi is an industrial and product designer whose work focuses on lighting products, furniture, and manufacturable consumer products.
Designer of the Day Interview
2 September 2026
I have been working in industrial and product design for more than fifteen years, with a particular focus on lighting design, physical products, and manufacturable design solutions.
My academic background is entirely in industrial design. I received my Bachelor’s degree in Industrial Design from Tabriz Islamic Art University and later completed my Master’s degree in Industrial Design at the University of Art in Tehran. My education gave me a strong foundation in product development, design methodology, materials, ergonomics, model making, and manufacturing.
Alongside professional practice, I have also worked as an industrial design lecturer. Teaching became an important part of my development because it required me to analyze design decisions more critically and communicate the relationship between concept, function, form, materials, and production.
Since 2015, I have been developing my independent practice through Mostafa Arvand Design Studio. My work has included lighting collections, furniture-related products, urban furniture, and other industrial products, often developed in close collaboration with manufacturers, engineers, and production teams. In recent years, lighting has become the strongest focus of my work, particularly modular systems and products that explore the relationship between light, material, structure, and space.
I have collaborated with manufacturers and companies in different countries, particularly in Turkey and internationally, developing projects from initial sketches and concepts through 3D modeling, technical development, material selection, prototyping, rendering, and production preparation.
My work has also been presented through international exhibitions, design competitions, publications, and jury activities. Experiences such as exhibiting during Milan Design Week and presenting work internationally have allowed me to engage with different design cultures and audiences.
What has shaped my experience most is the combination of academic knowledge, teaching, independent practice, international collaboration, and direct involvement with manufacturing. I have always tried to keep design connected to reality, so that an idea is not only visually compelling but also technically resolved and capable of becoming a real product.
My academic background is entirely in industrial design. I received my Bachelor’s degree in Industrial Design from Tabriz Islamic Art University and later completed my Master’s degree in Industrial Design at the University of Art in Tehran. My education gave me a strong foundation in product development, design methodology, materials, ergonomics, model making, and manufacturing.
Alongside professional practice, I have also worked as an industrial design lecturer. Teaching became an important part of my development because it required me to analyze design decisions more critically and communicate the relationship between concept, function, form, materials, and production.
Since 2015, I have been developing my independent practice through Mostafa Arvand Design Studio. My work has included lighting collections, furniture-related products, urban furniture, and other industrial products, often developed in close collaboration with manufacturers, engineers, and production teams. In recent years, lighting has become the strongest focus of my work, particularly modular systems and products that explore the relationship between light, material, structure, and space.
I have collaborated with manufacturers and companies in different countries, particularly in Turkey and internationally, developing projects from initial sketches and concepts through 3D modeling, technical development, material selection, prototyping, rendering, and production preparation.
My work has also been presented through international exhibitions, design competitions, publications, and jury activities. Experiences such as exhibiting during Milan Design Week and presenting work internationally have allowed me to engage with different design cultures and audiences.
What has shaped my experience most is the combination of academic knowledge, teaching, independent practice, international collaboration, and direct involvement with manufacturing. I have always tried to keep design connected to reality, so that an idea is not only visually compelling but also technically resolved and capable of becoming a real product.
My interest in design started from a natural curiosity about objects, form, and the way things are made. From an early age, I enjoyed drawing, observing products, and imagining how existing objects could be changed or improved. At that time, I did not yet know that industrial design existed as a professional field, but I was already attracted to the combination of creativity and making.
When I discovered industrial design, it immediately felt like a field that brought together many of my interests: drawing, problem-solving, materials, technology, form, function, and the possibility of turning ideas into real physical objects. That was the main reason I chose to study industrial design.
I completed my Bachelor’s degree in Industrial Design at Tabriz Islamic Art University, where I developed a strong foundation in design methodology, product development, ergonomics, materials, model making, and form studies. I later continued with a Master’s degree in Industrial Design at the University of Art in Tehran, which helped me develop a more analytical approach to design and better understand the relationship between concept, research, technology, production, and user experience.
After university, professional experience gradually became the most important part of my development. Working on real projects introduced me to the realities of manufacturing, budgets, technical limitations, clients, and production teams. I learned that a strong idea is only the beginning; a designer must also understand how that idea can be constructed, assembled, manufactured, and used.
Teaching industrial design also influenced me greatly. Explaining design principles to students forced me to question my own decisions and made me more conscious of the reasons behind my design choices.
Over time, my work became increasingly focused on lighting and physical product design. Lighting attracted me because it combines product design, engineering, material, architecture, and emotion in a very unique way. You are not only designing an object, but also the atmosphere and experience that the object creates around it.
There was not one single person who made me become a designer. It was mainly an internal drive: curiosity, the desire to create, and the satisfaction of seeing an idea become something real. Over the years, teachers, manufacturers, engineers, colleagues, and other designers have all influenced the way I work, but the original motivation has always been the same: to understand things better and to create objects that have a clear reason to exist.
When I discovered industrial design, it immediately felt like a field that brought together many of my interests: drawing, problem-solving, materials, technology, form, function, and the possibility of turning ideas into real physical objects. That was the main reason I chose to study industrial design.
I completed my Bachelor’s degree in Industrial Design at Tabriz Islamic Art University, where I developed a strong foundation in design methodology, product development, ergonomics, materials, model making, and form studies. I later continued with a Master’s degree in Industrial Design at the University of Art in Tehran, which helped me develop a more analytical approach to design and better understand the relationship between concept, research, technology, production, and user experience.
After university, professional experience gradually became the most important part of my development. Working on real projects introduced me to the realities of manufacturing, budgets, technical limitations, clients, and production teams. I learned that a strong idea is only the beginning; a designer must also understand how that idea can be constructed, assembled, manufactured, and used.
Teaching industrial design also influenced me greatly. Explaining design principles to students forced me to question my own decisions and made me more conscious of the reasons behind my design choices.
Over time, my work became increasingly focused on lighting and physical product design. Lighting attracted me because it combines product design, engineering, material, architecture, and emotion in a very unique way. You are not only designing an object, but also the atmosphere and experience that the object creates around it.
There was not one single person who made me become a designer. It was mainly an internal drive: curiosity, the desire to create, and the satisfaction of seeing an idea become something real. Over the years, teachers, manufacturers, engineers, colleagues, and other designers have all influenced the way I work, but the original motivation has always been the same: to understand things better and to create objects that have a clear reason to exist.
My design process is usually guided by three main priorities: clarity of concept and function, material and manufacturability, and the experience the product creates for the user.
The first priority is to understand the essential idea behind the project. Before thinking too much about the final form, I try to understand why the product needs to exist, what problem it should solve, who will use it, and what makes the opportunity interesting. I prefer designs where there is a clear relationship between the initial idea and the final object rather than forms that exist only for visual effect.
The second priority is material and manufacturability. I believe the way something is made should be considered from the beginning of the design process. Material selection, structure, assembly, production methods, tolerances, durability, and cost can all influence the form. I do not see manufacturing constraints simply as limitations; very often they help generate more intelligent and distinctive solutions.
The third priority is experience and emotional character. A product should function properly, but I also want it to create a connection with the user. This is particularly important in my lighting work, where I am designing not only an object but also light, shadow, atmosphere, and the relationship between the product and the surrounding space.
In terms of technique, I use both hand and digital processes. I normally begin with research and hand sketching because sketching allows me to explore ideas quickly without becoming attached to details too early. Once a direction becomes promising, I move into 3D development, primarily using SolidWorks, where I can study proportions, construction, components, and assembly in much greater detail.
I then use KeyShot for visualization and for exploring materials, finishes, lighting conditions, and the way the product might appear in its intended environment. However, I do not believe digital tools can replace physical testing. Depending on the project, I use mock-ups, prototypes, material samples, and physical models to understand scale, balance, construction, and especially the behavior of light.
Stylistically, I do not try to impose the same visual language on every project. I prefer the character of a product to emerge from its idea, function, material, and construction. However, there is a recurring theme in my work: I am interested in achieving simplicity without losing character, and in finding a balance between sculptural expression and technical logic.
Ultimately, my approach is to move continuously between thinking and making, and between digital precision and physical reality, until the concept, form, material, function, and manufacturing logic begin to feel like parts of the same solution.
The first priority is to understand the essential idea behind the project. Before thinking too much about the final form, I try to understand why the product needs to exist, what problem it should solve, who will use it, and what makes the opportunity interesting. I prefer designs where there is a clear relationship between the initial idea and the final object rather than forms that exist only for visual effect.
The second priority is material and manufacturability. I believe the way something is made should be considered from the beginning of the design process. Material selection, structure, assembly, production methods, tolerances, durability, and cost can all influence the form. I do not see manufacturing constraints simply as limitations; very often they help generate more intelligent and distinctive solutions.
The third priority is experience and emotional character. A product should function properly, but I also want it to create a connection with the user. This is particularly important in my lighting work, where I am designing not only an object but also light, shadow, atmosphere, and the relationship between the product and the surrounding space.
In terms of technique, I use both hand and digital processes. I normally begin with research and hand sketching because sketching allows me to explore ideas quickly without becoming attached to details too early. Once a direction becomes promising, I move into 3D development, primarily using SolidWorks, where I can study proportions, construction, components, and assembly in much greater detail.
I then use KeyShot for visualization and for exploring materials, finishes, lighting conditions, and the way the product might appear in its intended environment. However, I do not believe digital tools can replace physical testing. Depending on the project, I use mock-ups, prototypes, material samples, and physical models to understand scale, balance, construction, and especially the behavior of light.
Stylistically, I do not try to impose the same visual language on every project. I prefer the character of a product to emerge from its idea, function, material, and construction. However, there is a recurring theme in my work: I am interested in achieving simplicity without losing character, and in finding a balance between sculptural expression and technical logic.
Ultimately, my approach is to move continuously between thinking and making, and between digital precision and physical reality, until the concept, form, material, function, and manufacturing logic begin to feel like parts of the same solution.
Designing creates a combination of curiosity, excitement, concentration, frustration, and satisfaction for me. I think this mixture of emotions is actually an important part of the process.
The beginning of a project is always exciting because everything is still open. There are many possible directions, and I enjoy the process of asking questions, exploring different ideas, sketching, and trying to understand what the project could become. This early stage has a certain freedom that is very energizing.
However, the part I enjoy most is usually the development phase, when an initial idea begins to become more concrete. This is where form, structure, material, function, and manufacturing start to influence each other. It is also where problems appear, and strangely, solving those problems is often one of the most satisfying parts of design.
There are naturally moments of frustration. A concept may look convincing in a sketch but fail technically, a prototype may reveal unexpected problems, or a material may behave differently from what I imagined. But these moments are also valuable because they force me to think more deeply and often lead to a better solution.
The strongest sense of satisfaction comes when the design moves from an idea into a real object. Seeing something that once existed only as a sketch or a 3D model become physically manufactured is still very rewarding to me.
In lighting design, there is another special moment: seeing the product illuminated for the first time. The object changes completely when the light is turned on, and suddenly you can experience the shadows, reflections, atmosphere, and interaction with the surrounding space. That moment can reveal whether the design is truly successful.
Design fulfils me because it combines imagination with problem-solving. I enjoy creating something new, but I also enjoy the discipline required to make that idea work in reality.
For me, the greatest pleasure comes from the moment when a project begins to feel resolved, when all the separate decisions start to work together and the design becomes something that feels natural, coherent, and real.
The beginning of a project is always exciting because everything is still open. There are many possible directions, and I enjoy the process of asking questions, exploring different ideas, sketching, and trying to understand what the project could become. This early stage has a certain freedom that is very energizing.
However, the part I enjoy most is usually the development phase, when an initial idea begins to become more concrete. This is where form, structure, material, function, and manufacturing start to influence each other. It is also where problems appear, and strangely, solving those problems is often one of the most satisfying parts of design.
There are naturally moments of frustration. A concept may look convincing in a sketch but fail technically, a prototype may reveal unexpected problems, or a material may behave differently from what I imagined. But these moments are also valuable because they force me to think more deeply and often lead to a better solution.
The strongest sense of satisfaction comes when the design moves from an idea into a real object. Seeing something that once existed only as a sketch or a 3D model become physically manufactured is still very rewarding to me.
In lighting design, there is another special moment: seeing the product illuminated for the first time. The object changes completely when the light is turned on, and suddenly you can experience the shadows, reflections, atmosphere, and interaction with the surrounding space. That moment can reveal whether the design is truly successful.
Design fulfils me because it combines imagination with problem-solving. I enjoy creating something new, but I also enjoy the discipline required to make that idea work in reality.
For me, the greatest pleasure comes from the moment when a project begins to feel resolved, when all the separate decisions start to work together and the design becomes something that feels natural, coherent, and real.
Several aspects of my background have shaped me as a designer beyond formal design education.
One of the most important has been teaching. Working as an industrial design lecturer forced me to explain ideas clearly, question my own assumptions, and understand why a design decision works rather than simply relying on intuition. Teaching also improved my ability to give and receive criticism, which is essential in any creative profession.
Communication has also played a major role in my development. Designers rarely work alone, so being able to explain an idea clearly to clients, engineers, manufacturers, craftspeople, and other designers is extremely important. A strong concept can easily fail if it cannot be communicated or translated into a shared understanding.
Another valuable skill has been patience. Product development often takes much longer than expected. Prototypes fail, production methods need to change, clients revise requirements, and technical problems appear late in the process. Learning to remain focused and constructive during these moments has helped me become a better designer.
Problem-solving is another important part of my background. I enjoy analyzing a challenge, breaking it into smaller parts, and finding a solution that balances function, form, manufacturing, cost, and user experience. This practical way of thinking has become especially important in my lighting and product design work.
Working closely with manufacturers has probably had one of the strongest influences on my design approach. It taught me to respect the realities of production and to understand that materials, assembly, tooling, tolerances, and cost are not separate from design. They are part of the design itself.
International collaborations and exhibitions have also broadened my perspective. Working with people from different countries and professional cultures has shown me that design can be interpreted differently depending on context, market, technology, and lifestyle. This has made me more open-minded and more careful about assuming that one solution is universally correct.
My design journey has therefore been shaped by a combination of education, teaching, independent practice, manufacturing experience, collaboration, and continuous learning. I do not think any one of these elements alone would have been enough.
The biggest influence on my work has probably been the accumulation of all these experiences. Each project, collaboration, mistake, and conversation has added something to the way I think. Over time, this has taught me that being a good designer is not only about creativity. It also requires communication, patience, curiosity, responsibility, and the ability to keep learning.
One of the most important has been teaching. Working as an industrial design lecturer forced me to explain ideas clearly, question my own assumptions, and understand why a design decision works rather than simply relying on intuition. Teaching also improved my ability to give and receive criticism, which is essential in any creative profession.
Communication has also played a major role in my development. Designers rarely work alone, so being able to explain an idea clearly to clients, engineers, manufacturers, craftspeople, and other designers is extremely important. A strong concept can easily fail if it cannot be communicated or translated into a shared understanding.
Another valuable skill has been patience. Product development often takes much longer than expected. Prototypes fail, production methods need to change, clients revise requirements, and technical problems appear late in the process. Learning to remain focused and constructive during these moments has helped me become a better designer.
Problem-solving is another important part of my background. I enjoy analyzing a challenge, breaking it into smaller parts, and finding a solution that balances function, form, manufacturing, cost, and user experience. This practical way of thinking has become especially important in my lighting and product design work.
Working closely with manufacturers has probably had one of the strongest influences on my design approach. It taught me to respect the realities of production and to understand that materials, assembly, tooling, tolerances, and cost are not separate from design. They are part of the design itself.
International collaborations and exhibitions have also broadened my perspective. Working with people from different countries and professional cultures has shown me that design can be interpreted differently depending on context, market, technology, and lifestyle. This has made me more open-minded and more careful about assuming that one solution is universally correct.
My design journey has therefore been shaped by a combination of education, teaching, independent practice, manufacturing experience, collaboration, and continuous learning. I do not think any one of these elements alone would have been enough.
The biggest influence on my work has probably been the accumulation of all these experiences. Each project, collaboration, mistake, and conversation has added something to the way I think. Over time, this has taught me that being a good designer is not only about creativity. It also requires communication, patience, curiosity, responsibility, and the ability to keep learning.
My growth path has always been about moving from designing individual objects toward developing a broader and deeper understanding of products, manufacturing, systems, and the relationship between design and space.
In the early stages of my career, much of my attention was naturally focused on form and concept development. Over time, working with manufacturers, engineers, clients, and production teams made my approach more comprehensive. Today, I think much more about the complete life of a product: how it is made, assembled, transported, used, maintained, and how it can remain relevant over time.
Lighting has become the central direction of my work, and in the future I would like to develop this specialization further. I am particularly interested in moving from individual lighting objects toward complete families and modular systems that can operate at different scales, from table and wall lighting to pendants and larger architectural installations.
I also want to expand my international collaborations with manufacturers, architects, interior designers, engineers, and material specialists. My goal is to build a design practice where creative exploration and manufacturing knowledge are closely connected from the beginning of each project.
Another part of my future growth is experimentation with materials and new production technologies. I would like to explore how traditional materials and craftsmanship can interact with advanced manufacturing, digital tools, intelligent lighting technologies, and more sustainable approaches to production.
My dream project would be to develop a complete adaptable lighting system together with a manufacturer and an architectural team. It would share one clear design and construction language while allowing different configurations, scales, materials, and lighting effects. Ideally, components could be repaired, replaced, or reconfigured rather than making the entire product obsolete. I would like the system to be technically rational and manufacturable, while still having enough character and emotional presence to become part of the identity of a space.
In the longer term, I also want to continue contributing to design education and sharing practical knowledge about turning concepts into manufacturable products. I believe there is valuable knowledge at the intersection of creativity and production that should be passed to younger designers.
I do not necessarily want to be remembered for one iconic object. I would prefer to be remembered for a consistent body of work and a particular way of thinking: curious, experimental, technically grounded, and attentive to the relationship between objects, light, materials, and people.
Ultimately, my future goal is to continue designing products that have a strong identity but also a clear reason to exist, and to create work that remains meaningful long after its first visual impression.
In the early stages of my career, much of my attention was naturally focused on form and concept development. Over time, working with manufacturers, engineers, clients, and production teams made my approach more comprehensive. Today, I think much more about the complete life of a product: how it is made, assembled, transported, used, maintained, and how it can remain relevant over time.
Lighting has become the central direction of my work, and in the future I would like to develop this specialization further. I am particularly interested in moving from individual lighting objects toward complete families and modular systems that can operate at different scales, from table and wall lighting to pendants and larger architectural installations.
I also want to expand my international collaborations with manufacturers, architects, interior designers, engineers, and material specialists. My goal is to build a design practice where creative exploration and manufacturing knowledge are closely connected from the beginning of each project.
Another part of my future growth is experimentation with materials and new production technologies. I would like to explore how traditional materials and craftsmanship can interact with advanced manufacturing, digital tools, intelligent lighting technologies, and more sustainable approaches to production.
My dream project would be to develop a complete adaptable lighting system together with a manufacturer and an architectural team. It would share one clear design and construction language while allowing different configurations, scales, materials, and lighting effects. Ideally, components could be repaired, replaced, or reconfigured rather than making the entire product obsolete. I would like the system to be technically rational and manufacturable, while still having enough character and emotional presence to become part of the identity of a space.
In the longer term, I also want to continue contributing to design education and sharing practical knowledge about turning concepts into manufacturable products. I believe there is valuable knowledge at the intersection of creativity and production that should be passed to younger designers.
I do not necessarily want to be remembered for one iconic object. I would prefer to be remembered for a consistent body of work and a particular way of thinking: curious, experimental, technically grounded, and attentive to the relationship between objects, light, materials, and people.
Ultimately, my future goal is to continue designing products that have a strong identity but also a clear reason to exist, and to create work that remains meaningful long after its first visual impression.
My first advice to young designers is to be patient. A design career usually develops much more slowly than it appears from the outside. There will be rejected ideas, projects that never reach production, difficult clients, technical problems, and periods when progress feels very limited. These experiences are not separate from the career; they are part of it.
I would also strongly encourage young designers to move beyond creating attractive images. Rendering and presentation are important, but they are only one part of design. Learn how products are actually made. Study materials, manufacturing processes, assembly, tolerances, mechanisms, cost, and durability. Make prototypes whenever possible and spend time with manufacturers, engineers, and craftspeople. Understanding production changed my own approach to design significantly.
Another important lesson is not to become too attached to the first idea. A concept may feel exciting at the beginning, but good design requires questioning, testing, simplifying, and sometimes starting again. Learning to accept criticism without losing confidence is one of the most valuable skills a designer can develop.
I would also warn young designers against following trends too closely. Trends can be useful to understand changes in culture, technology, and behavior, but they should not replace original thinking. Developing a personal design language takes time and comes naturally through repeated work, observation, and experience.
Communication is equally important. Designers need to explain ideas clearly to people who may not think like designers: clients, engineers, manufacturers, investors, and users. A strong idea that cannot be communicated or developed collaboratively may never reach its full potential.
One of the best lessons I received through education and professional experience was to keep asking why. Why does this product need to exist? Why this form? Why this material? Why this manufacturing method? These questions help separate meaningful decisions from decorative ones.
To expand my own knowledge, I continue to study products, architecture, materials, manufacturing processes, technology, and the work of other designers. I also learn constantly through real projects, collaboration, teaching, exhibitions, and conversations with people from different disciplines.
Most importantly, I would advise young designers to keep making things. Skills grow through repetition. Every project, including the unsuccessful ones, teaches something that eventually becomes part of your design judgment.
Success in design is rarely the result of one breakthrough moment. It is usually the result of curiosity, consistency, technical understanding, good communication, and the willingness to keep improving over many years.
I would also strongly encourage young designers to move beyond creating attractive images. Rendering and presentation are important, but they are only one part of design. Learn how products are actually made. Study materials, manufacturing processes, assembly, tolerances, mechanisms, cost, and durability. Make prototypes whenever possible and spend time with manufacturers, engineers, and craftspeople. Understanding production changed my own approach to design significantly.
Another important lesson is not to become too attached to the first idea. A concept may feel exciting at the beginning, but good design requires questioning, testing, simplifying, and sometimes starting again. Learning to accept criticism without losing confidence is one of the most valuable skills a designer can develop.
I would also warn young designers against following trends too closely. Trends can be useful to understand changes in culture, technology, and behavior, but they should not replace original thinking. Developing a personal design language takes time and comes naturally through repeated work, observation, and experience.
Communication is equally important. Designers need to explain ideas clearly to people who may not think like designers: clients, engineers, manufacturers, investors, and users. A strong idea that cannot be communicated or developed collaboratively may never reach its full potential.
One of the best lessons I received through education and professional experience was to keep asking why. Why does this product need to exist? Why this form? Why this material? Why this manufacturing method? These questions help separate meaningful decisions from decorative ones.
To expand my own knowledge, I continue to study products, architecture, materials, manufacturing processes, technology, and the work of other designers. I also learn constantly through real projects, collaboration, teaching, exhibitions, and conversations with people from different disciplines.
Most importantly, I would advise young designers to keep making things. Skills grow through repetition. Every project, including the unsuccessful ones, teaches something that eventually becomes part of your design judgment.
Success in design is rarely the result of one breakthrough moment. It is usually the result of curiosity, consistency, technical understanding, good communication, and the willingness to keep improving over many years.
I believe one of the most important principles for any experienced designer is to protect the clarity of the idea. As projects become more complex, there is always a temptation to add more features, more visual gestures, and more explanations. In many cases, the stronger decision is to remove what is unnecessary and allow the essential idea to become clearer.
Another important practice is to stay close to reality. Designers should understand how their work will be manufactured, built, installed, maintained, and used. A concept becomes much stronger when technical knowledge is integrated into the creative process rather than treated as something that belongs only to engineers or production teams.
I also think professional designers should choose projects carefully. Not every opportunity is necessarily a good opportunity. The right project should offer space for meaningful contribution, good collaboration, and enough alignment between the designer, client, and manufacturer. Sometimes saying no to the wrong project protects both the quality of the work and the direction of your career.
Communication is another professional skill that becomes increasingly important with experience. Good designers need to explain not only what they propose, but why. Clear communication builds trust with clients, engineers, manufacturers, and collaborators, and it also makes difficult decisions easier to manage.
One common mistake is becoming too dependent on personal style. A recognizable design language is valuable, but it should not become a formula. If every project begins with the same answer, the designer may stop responding honestly to the problem. I prefer to maintain consistency in thinking rather than simply repeating the same visual language.
Another mistake is confusing visibility with success. Awards, publications, exhibitions, and social media can create valuable opportunities, but they should support the work rather than replace it. A strong professional reputation is built through consistency, reliability, quality, and the ability to deliver real results over time.
I also believe experienced designers should continue learning from people outside their own discipline. Engineers, craftspeople, manufacturers, architects, material specialists, and even clients can reveal things that designers may overlook. The more experienced you become, the more important it is to remain open enough to recognize what you still do not know.
Perhaps the most useful professional habit is to regularly question your own decisions. Ask whether each element is necessary, whether the solution could be simpler, whether the material is appropriate, whether the product can actually be made, and whether the design still makes sense without the presentation around it.
For me, long-term success in design comes from combining curiosity with discipline. Creativity is important, but consistency, judgment, collaboration, and the ability to turn ideas into real and meaningful outcomes are what sustain a design career.
Another important practice is to stay close to reality. Designers should understand how their work will be manufactured, built, installed, maintained, and used. A concept becomes much stronger when technical knowledge is integrated into the creative process rather than treated as something that belongs only to engineers or production teams.
I also think professional designers should choose projects carefully. Not every opportunity is necessarily a good opportunity. The right project should offer space for meaningful contribution, good collaboration, and enough alignment between the designer, client, and manufacturer. Sometimes saying no to the wrong project protects both the quality of the work and the direction of your career.
Communication is another professional skill that becomes increasingly important with experience. Good designers need to explain not only what they propose, but why. Clear communication builds trust with clients, engineers, manufacturers, and collaborators, and it also makes difficult decisions easier to manage.
One common mistake is becoming too dependent on personal style. A recognizable design language is valuable, but it should not become a formula. If every project begins with the same answer, the designer may stop responding honestly to the problem. I prefer to maintain consistency in thinking rather than simply repeating the same visual language.
Another mistake is confusing visibility with success. Awards, publications, exhibitions, and social media can create valuable opportunities, but they should support the work rather than replace it. A strong professional reputation is built through consistency, reliability, quality, and the ability to deliver real results over time.
I also believe experienced designers should continue learning from people outside their own discipline. Engineers, craftspeople, manufacturers, architects, material specialists, and even clients can reveal things that designers may overlook. The more experienced you become, the more important it is to remain open enough to recognize what you still do not know.
Perhaps the most useful professional habit is to regularly question your own decisions. Ask whether each element is necessary, whether the solution could be simpler, whether the material is appropriate, whether the product can actually be made, and whether the design still makes sense without the presentation around it.
For me, long-term success in design comes from combining curiosity with discipline. Creativity is important, but consistency, judgment, collaboration, and the ability to turn ideas into real and meaningful outcomes are what sustain a design career.
My day-to-day routine is not completely fixed because it depends on the stage of the projects I am working on, but I usually begin by reviewing priorities, messages, ongoing projects, and any technical or production issues that need attention.
I prefer to use the earlier part of the day for work that requires concentration. This may involve sketching a new idea, developing a 3D model, reviewing proportions and construction, or solving a particular technical problem. When I am in the early stages of a project, I often spend time researching materials, manufacturing methods, lighting technologies, architecture, and products from different fields.
I also try to stay aware of what is happening in design internationally. I follow design publications, exhibitions, new products, materials, and technologies, not simply to follow trends, but to understand how the industry and the way people live are changing.
A significant part of the day can also involve communication. I may be discussing a project with a client, reviewing technical details with a manufacturer, exchanging information with an engineer or collaborator, or preparing drawings and visualizations for the next stage of development.
Depending on the project, I move frequently between hand sketches, SolidWorks, KeyShot, technical drawings, material references, and prototypes. I actually enjoy this variety because it prevents the design process from becoming purely digital or repetitive.
Even on an ordinary working day, small moments can make the work exciting. Finding a cleaner solution to a joint, improving a proportion, discovering an interesting material, receiving a useful prototype from a manufacturer, or seeing a lighting effect work as intended can completely change the energy of the day.
I also enjoy the unexpected moments when a problem that has been unresolved for several days suddenly becomes simple. These small breakthroughs are often more satisfying than completing a large presentation.
So my working day is usually a combination of creative exploration, technical development, communication, research, and problem-solving. What keeps it interesting is that every project creates a different set of questions, and there is almost always something new to discover or improve.
I prefer to use the earlier part of the day for work that requires concentration. This may involve sketching a new idea, developing a 3D model, reviewing proportions and construction, or solving a particular technical problem. When I am in the early stages of a project, I often spend time researching materials, manufacturing methods, lighting technologies, architecture, and products from different fields.
I also try to stay aware of what is happening in design internationally. I follow design publications, exhibitions, new products, materials, and technologies, not simply to follow trends, but to understand how the industry and the way people live are changing.
A significant part of the day can also involve communication. I may be discussing a project with a client, reviewing technical details with a manufacturer, exchanging information with an engineer or collaborator, or preparing drawings and visualizations for the next stage of development.
Depending on the project, I move frequently between hand sketches, SolidWorks, KeyShot, technical drawings, material references, and prototypes. I actually enjoy this variety because it prevents the design process from becoming purely digital or repetitive.
Even on an ordinary working day, small moments can make the work exciting. Finding a cleaner solution to a joint, improving a proportion, discovering an interesting material, receiving a useful prototype from a manufacturer, or seeing a lighting effect work as intended can completely change the energy of the day.
I also enjoy the unexpected moments when a problem that has been unresolved for several days suddenly becomes simple. These small breakthroughs are often more satisfying than completing a large presentation.
So my working day is usually a combination of creative exploration, technical development, communication, research, and problem-solving. What keeps it interesting is that every project creates a different set of questions, and there is almost always something new to discover or improve.
I do follow design trends, but I try to understand them rather than simply follow them.
For me, trends are useful because they can reveal broader changes in technology, materials, manufacturing, lifestyle, culture, and user expectations. When a certain direction becomes visible across different industries, I am more interested in asking why it is happening than in copying its visual language.
I regularly follow international design publications, exhibitions, new product launches, material developments, architecture, lighting, and emerging technologies. I also pay attention to how manufacturers are changing their production methods and how users are changing the way they live and interact with products.
At the same time, I do not want my work to be defined by what is fashionable in a particular season. Trends move quickly, while well-designed products are often expected to remain relevant for many years. I prefer to develop a clear design language and product families that have their own identity rather than changing direction simply because a particular color, material, or form has become popular.
Inspiration for me comes from many sources: architecture, nature, materials, manufacturing processes, art, technology, everyday objects, and the behavior of light itself. Sometimes inspiration comes from something very visual, but often it begins with a technical detail, a production method, or a simple observation about how people use an object.
If a trend reflects a meaningful change, such as greater attention to repairability, modularity, new lighting technologies, responsible materials, or more flexible production, then I believe it is worth studying seriously. But if it is mainly a temporary visual fashion, I prefer to observe it without allowing it to control the design.
Ultimately, I think a designer should understand the present without becoming trapped by it. The goal is to create work that feels contemporary and relevant, but still has enough clarity and integrity to remain meaningful after the trend has passed.
For me, trends are useful because they can reveal broader changes in technology, materials, manufacturing, lifestyle, culture, and user expectations. When a certain direction becomes visible across different industries, I am more interested in asking why it is happening than in copying its visual language.
I regularly follow international design publications, exhibitions, new product launches, material developments, architecture, lighting, and emerging technologies. I also pay attention to how manufacturers are changing their production methods and how users are changing the way they live and interact with products.
At the same time, I do not want my work to be defined by what is fashionable in a particular season. Trends move quickly, while well-designed products are often expected to remain relevant for many years. I prefer to develop a clear design language and product families that have their own identity rather than changing direction simply because a particular color, material, or form has become popular.
Inspiration for me comes from many sources: architecture, nature, materials, manufacturing processes, art, technology, everyday objects, and the behavior of light itself. Sometimes inspiration comes from something very visual, but often it begins with a technical detail, a production method, or a simple observation about how people use an object.
If a trend reflects a meaningful change, such as greater attention to repairability, modularity, new lighting technologies, responsible materials, or more flexible production, then I believe it is worth studying seriously. But if it is mainly a temporary visual fashion, I prefer to observe it without allowing it to control the design.
Ultimately, I think a designer should understand the present without becoming trapped by it. The goal is to create work that feels contemporary and relevant, but still has enough clarity and integrity to remain meaningful after the trend has passed.
For me, a well-designed product is one in which the main decisions feel coherent and necessary. Function, form, material, manufacturing, user experience, and context should support one another rather than compete.
The first thing I look for is purpose. I ask whether the product has a clear reason to exist and whether the design actually responds to that reason. A product can be visually impressive, but if the idea behind it is weak or unclear, I do not consider it fully resolved.
Usability is another important criterion. Good design should make interaction intuitive, comfortable, and appropriate for the user. The designer should understand how the product is held, operated, maintained, installed, or experienced over time.
I also evaluate manufacturability very closely. Material choice, structure, assembly, durability, tolerances, production methods, and cost are all part of design. A concept that looks beautiful but cannot be produced intelligently is still incomplete.
Another important factor is coherence. I like designs where every element feels connected to the same idea. The form should not contradict the function, the material should make sense for the construction, and the details should support the overall character of the product.
The “aha” moment for me is when the design begins to feel inevitable. You look at it and feel that the proportions, structure, material, function, and details belong together so naturally that removing or changing one element would weaken the whole.
Longevity also matters. I prefer designs that do not depend entirely on temporary visual trends and can remain useful, understandable, and relevant for a long time.
Some common mistakes are overdesigning, adding features without a clear need, selecting materials only for appearance, ignoring production realities, and becoming too attached to the first idea. Another mistake is designing mainly for presentation rather than for real use.
Ultimately, I define good design as thoughtful decision-making made visible. A successful product should solve its problem clearly, work well, be appropriate to its context, make sense technically, and create a meaningful experience without unnecessary complexity.
The first thing I look for is purpose. I ask whether the product has a clear reason to exist and whether the design actually responds to that reason. A product can be visually impressive, but if the idea behind it is weak or unclear, I do not consider it fully resolved.
Usability is another important criterion. Good design should make interaction intuitive, comfortable, and appropriate for the user. The designer should understand how the product is held, operated, maintained, installed, or experienced over time.
I also evaluate manufacturability very closely. Material choice, structure, assembly, durability, tolerances, production methods, and cost are all part of design. A concept that looks beautiful but cannot be produced intelligently is still incomplete.
Another important factor is coherence. I like designs where every element feels connected to the same idea. The form should not contradict the function, the material should make sense for the construction, and the details should support the overall character of the product.
The “aha” moment for me is when the design begins to feel inevitable. You look at it and feel that the proportions, structure, material, function, and details belong together so naturally that removing or changing one element would weaken the whole.
Longevity also matters. I prefer designs that do not depend entirely on temporary visual trends and can remain useful, understandable, and relevant for a long time.
Some common mistakes are overdesigning, adding features without a clear need, selecting materials only for appearance, ignoring production realities, and becoming too attached to the first idea. Another mistake is designing mainly for presentation rather than for real use.
Ultimately, I define good design as thoughtful decision-making made visible. A successful product should solve its problem clearly, work well, be appropriate to its context, make sense technically, and create a meaningful experience without unnecessary complexity.
I do not think a design is ever absolutely complete. There is almost always something that could be changed, refined, or reconsidered. The important question is whether those changes would genuinely improve the design or simply make it different.
For me, a design is ready when the main decisions have been resolved and support one another clearly. The concept, function, proportions, materials, construction, user experience, and manufacturing logic should all feel coherent.
I usually ask myself several questions before considering a project complete. Does the product solve the original problem? Is every important element necessary? Can it be manufactured realistically? Are the materials appropriate? Does the product work as intended? And most importantly, would another round of changes create a meaningful improvement?
Prototyping and testing are very important at this stage because they often reveal issues that cannot be seen in sketches or digital models. In lighting design, I also need to evaluate the actual behavior of light, including distribution, glare, reflections, shadows, and the atmosphere created in the surrounding space.
There is usually a point where the design begins to feel stable. Changes become smaller, the main problems have been resolved, and the product no longer feels like a collection of separate decisions. Instead, it begins to feel like one coherent solution. That is normally the moment when I know it is ready to move forward.
At the same time, I try to avoid endless refinement. Designers can always find another detail to adjust, but continuing indefinitely does not necessarily create a better result. Professional judgment also means knowing when to stop.
I do sometimes revisit earlier designs mentally and imagine how I might approach them differently today. I think this is natural because designers continue to learn. But I also respect the fact that each project belongs to a particular moment in my development.
For me, a design becomes successful when it performs well in reality, can be produced as intended, communicates its idea clearly, and creates a positive experience for the people who use or encounter it. A design is ready when it has reached that balance and further changes would no longer make it meaningfully stronger.
For me, a design is ready when the main decisions have been resolved and support one another clearly. The concept, function, proportions, materials, construction, user experience, and manufacturing logic should all feel coherent.
I usually ask myself several questions before considering a project complete. Does the product solve the original problem? Is every important element necessary? Can it be manufactured realistically? Are the materials appropriate? Does the product work as intended? And most importantly, would another round of changes create a meaningful improvement?
Prototyping and testing are very important at this stage because they often reveal issues that cannot be seen in sketches or digital models. In lighting design, I also need to evaluate the actual behavior of light, including distribution, glare, reflections, shadows, and the atmosphere created in the surrounding space.
There is usually a point where the design begins to feel stable. Changes become smaller, the main problems have been resolved, and the product no longer feels like a collection of separate decisions. Instead, it begins to feel like one coherent solution. That is normally the moment when I know it is ready to move forward.
At the same time, I try to avoid endless refinement. Designers can always find another detail to adjust, but continuing indefinitely does not necessarily create a better result. Professional judgment also means knowing when to stop.
I do sometimes revisit earlier designs mentally and imagine how I might approach them differently today. I think this is natural because designers continue to learn. But I also respect the fact that each project belongs to a particular moment in my development.
For me, a design becomes successful when it performs well in reality, can be produced as intended, communicates its idea clearly, and creates a positive experience for the people who use or encounter it. A design is ready when it has reached that balance and further changes would no longer make it meaningfully stronger.
My biggest body of design work is my series of lighting collections developed over several years. Rather than one single object, I see these collections as a continuous exploration of how light, material, structure, and emotion can come together in different ways.
Each collection started from a different idea or observation. Some were inspired by natural forms and movement, while others were driven more by modularity, construction, material behavior, or the relationship between the product and the surrounding space. Collections such as River, Stone, Feather, Ring, Pelk, Duk, and others each represent a different stage of this exploration.
What makes these projects especially important to me is that I have never treated lighting simply as an object that contains a light source. I try to design both the physical product and the effect it creates: the way light passes through or reflects from materials, the shadows it produces, the atmosphere it creates, and the way the product changes when it is switched on or off.
Another key aspect of these collections is manufacturability. Many of the projects required close attention to materials, construction, assembly, scale, production methods, and collaboration with manufacturers. This process often changed the original concept and helped transform a visually interesting idea into a more resolved and realistic product.
The challenge has always been to maintain the character of the concept while responding to technical and production requirements. Lighting products can appear simple from the outside, but they involve many hidden decisions related to light source, heat, diffusion, structure, electrical components, joints, finishes, and installation. Solving these details without losing the original design intention is one of the parts I find most rewarding.
These collections have also given me particular satisfaction because they allowed me to develop a more recognizable design language over time. Although the individual products are different, there is a recurring interest in simplicity with character, sculptural form, modular thinking, and the relationship between material and light.
Some of these projects have also been presented through international exhibitions, awards, and publications, which helped the work reach audiences beyond the original design context. That external response has been encouraging, but the most satisfying part remains seeing an idea progress from sketch to 3D development, prototype, and eventually a real lighting product.
At the moment, I am continuing this direction by developing new lighting concepts that explore modularity, adaptable structures, material experimentation, and closer relationships with architecture. I am increasingly interested in creating complete lighting families and systems rather than isolated products.
For this reason, I consider my lighting collections my most important work so far. Together, they represent not only a series of products, but the evolution of my thinking as a designer and the direction in which I want my future work to continue.
Each collection started from a different idea or observation. Some were inspired by natural forms and movement, while others were driven more by modularity, construction, material behavior, or the relationship between the product and the surrounding space. Collections such as River, Stone, Feather, Ring, Pelk, Duk, and others each represent a different stage of this exploration.
What makes these projects especially important to me is that I have never treated lighting simply as an object that contains a light source. I try to design both the physical product and the effect it creates: the way light passes through or reflects from materials, the shadows it produces, the atmosphere it creates, and the way the product changes when it is switched on or off.
Another key aspect of these collections is manufacturability. Many of the projects required close attention to materials, construction, assembly, scale, production methods, and collaboration with manufacturers. This process often changed the original concept and helped transform a visually interesting idea into a more resolved and realistic product.
The challenge has always been to maintain the character of the concept while responding to technical and production requirements. Lighting products can appear simple from the outside, but they involve many hidden decisions related to light source, heat, diffusion, structure, electrical components, joints, finishes, and installation. Solving these details without losing the original design intention is one of the parts I find most rewarding.
These collections have also given me particular satisfaction because they allowed me to develop a more recognizable design language over time. Although the individual products are different, there is a recurring interest in simplicity with character, sculptural form, modular thinking, and the relationship between material and light.
Some of these projects have also been presented through international exhibitions, awards, and publications, which helped the work reach audiences beyond the original design context. That external response has been encouraging, but the most satisfying part remains seeing an idea progress from sketch to 3D development, prototype, and eventually a real lighting product.
At the moment, I am continuing this direction by developing new lighting concepts that explore modularity, adaptable structures, material experimentation, and closer relationships with architecture. I am increasingly interested in creating complete lighting families and systems rather than isolated products.
For this reason, I consider my lighting collections my most important work so far. Together, they represent not only a series of products, but the evolution of my thinking as a designer and the direction in which I want my future work to continue.
My favourite designer is Achille Castiglioni. What I admire most about him is the intelligence and simplicity behind his work. He had an extraordinary ability to observe everyday life, identify an opportunity, and transform very simple ideas into products with strong character and lasting relevance.
I especially appreciate the way his designs often appear effortless, while behind them there is a great deal of experimentation, technical understanding, humor, and discipline. He did not add complexity simply to make a product look more designed. Instead, he often found the most direct and surprising way to solve a problem.
If I had the opportunity to speak with one designer from the past, Castiglioni would probably be my first choice. I would be very interested in discussing how he evaluated ideas, how he decided when a design was complete, and how he balanced intuition, functionality, manufacturing, and playfulness.
In lighting design, I also greatly admire Poul Henningsen. His work changed the way designers think about light itself, particularly glare, reflection, distribution, and atmosphere. He demonstrated that the form of a lighting product could be generated by the behavior of light rather than by decoration.
Wilhelm Wagenfeld is another important influence for me because of the clarity, proportion, and industrial logic of his work. His designs show how simplicity can still have a very strong identity.
I also admire Dieter Rams for his disciplined approach to function, longevity, and reduction, and Ingo Maurer for almost the opposite reason: his ability to make lighting poetic, emotional, experimental, and sometimes playful.
I do not think there is one single designer who can be described objectively as the most iconic of all time. Different designers changed different parts of our understanding of design. What I admire most in all of these figures is not a particular visual style, but the clarity of their thinking.
The greatest designers, in my view, do more than create recognizable objects. They change the way other designers understand a problem. That kind of influence is much more important to me than simply creating a fashionable or visually iconic form.
I especially appreciate the way his designs often appear effortless, while behind them there is a great deal of experimentation, technical understanding, humor, and discipline. He did not add complexity simply to make a product look more designed. Instead, he often found the most direct and surprising way to solve a problem.
If I had the opportunity to speak with one designer from the past, Castiglioni would probably be my first choice. I would be very interested in discussing how he evaluated ideas, how he decided when a design was complete, and how he balanced intuition, functionality, manufacturing, and playfulness.
In lighting design, I also greatly admire Poul Henningsen. His work changed the way designers think about light itself, particularly glare, reflection, distribution, and atmosphere. He demonstrated that the form of a lighting product could be generated by the behavior of light rather than by decoration.
Wilhelm Wagenfeld is another important influence for me because of the clarity, proportion, and industrial logic of his work. His designs show how simplicity can still have a very strong identity.
I also admire Dieter Rams for his disciplined approach to function, longevity, and reduction, and Ingo Maurer for almost the opposite reason: his ability to make lighting poetic, emotional, experimental, and sometimes playful.
I do not think there is one single designer who can be described objectively as the most iconic of all time. Different designers changed different parts of our understanding of design. What I admire most in all of these figures is not a particular visual style, but the clarity of their thinking.
The greatest designers, in my view, do more than create recognizable objects. They change the way other designers understand a problem. That kind of influence is much more important to me than simply creating a fashionable or visually iconic form.
My lifestyle and cultural background have definitely influenced the way I see design. I grew up in Iran, studied and began my professional career there, and I currently live and work in Ankara, Türkiye. At the same time, exhibitions, collaborations, and professional experiences in different countries have gradually given me a more international perspective.
Growing up within Iranian culture exposed me to a strong tradition of craftsmanship, architecture, pattern, material, and attention to detail. I do not try to translate these influences literally into my products, but I believe they remain somewhere in the way I think about proportion, material, atmosphere, and the emotional quality of objects.
Living in Türkiye has added another layer to this experience. It has brought me closer to a different manufacturing culture and has allowed me to collaborate directly with producers and professionals from different backgrounds. Moving between cultures has made me more aware that products are not experienced in exactly the same way everywhere.
I am particularly inspired by cities where contemporary design, architecture, manufacturing, and cultural history coexist. Milan is a good example for me. Its relationship with furniture, lighting, architecture, craftsmanship, and industry creates an environment where design feels connected to everyday life rather than existing only inside galleries or studios.
My inspiration does not come from one specific source. Architecture, materials, light, technology, manufacturing processes, travel, everyday objects, and observing how people use spaces all influence my thinking. Music can contribute to the atmosphere of working, but my creative process is driven more strongly by observation and by the problem I am trying to solve.
At the moment, I am based in Ankara and continuing to develop lighting and physical product projects, with particular interest in modular systems, material experimentation, manufacturability, and international collaboration. I am increasingly interested in projects where lighting becomes part of a larger architectural experience rather than remaining an isolated object.
I believe good design is necessary for the advancement of society because design influences almost every part of everyday life. The quality of the objects, environments, transportation, lighting, tools, and systems around us affects how comfortably, safely, and efficiently we live.
Design has also influenced my own daily life by making me more conscious of the objects I choose and the environments I create around myself. I tend to value fewer objects with better function, material quality, durability, and meaning rather than simply accumulating more things. I also pay closer attention to lighting, ergonomics, organization, and the way small details can improve everyday experience.
For me, culture and design are constantly influencing each other. Culture gives designers context, memory, behavior, and identity, while design gradually changes the way people live. Even small improvements, when repeated across millions of everyday interactions, can create meaningful changes in the quality of life.
Growing up within Iranian culture exposed me to a strong tradition of craftsmanship, architecture, pattern, material, and attention to detail. I do not try to translate these influences literally into my products, but I believe they remain somewhere in the way I think about proportion, material, atmosphere, and the emotional quality of objects.
Living in Türkiye has added another layer to this experience. It has brought me closer to a different manufacturing culture and has allowed me to collaborate directly with producers and professionals from different backgrounds. Moving between cultures has made me more aware that products are not experienced in exactly the same way everywhere.
I am particularly inspired by cities where contemporary design, architecture, manufacturing, and cultural history coexist. Milan is a good example for me. Its relationship with furniture, lighting, architecture, craftsmanship, and industry creates an environment where design feels connected to everyday life rather than existing only inside galleries or studios.
My inspiration does not come from one specific source. Architecture, materials, light, technology, manufacturing processes, travel, everyday objects, and observing how people use spaces all influence my thinking. Music can contribute to the atmosphere of working, but my creative process is driven more strongly by observation and by the problem I am trying to solve.
At the moment, I am based in Ankara and continuing to develop lighting and physical product projects, with particular interest in modular systems, material experimentation, manufacturability, and international collaboration. I am increasingly interested in projects where lighting becomes part of a larger architectural experience rather than remaining an isolated object.
I believe good design is necessary for the advancement of society because design influences almost every part of everyday life. The quality of the objects, environments, transportation, lighting, tools, and systems around us affects how comfortably, safely, and efficiently we live.
Design has also influenced my own daily life by making me more conscious of the objects I choose and the environments I create around myself. I tend to value fewer objects with better function, material quality, durability, and meaning rather than simply accumulating more things. I also pay closer attention to lighting, ergonomics, organization, and the way small details can improve everyday experience.
For me, culture and design are constantly influencing each other. Culture gives designers context, memory, behavior, and identity, while design gradually changes the way people live. Even small improvements, when repeated across millions of everyday interactions, can create meaningful changes in the quality of life.
My work culture is based on clarity, responsibility, collaboration, and respect for the people involved in the project.
Although I often lead projects independently through my own design practice, I do not see design as an isolated activity. Depending on the project, I work closely with manufacturers, engineers, craftspeople, clients, architects, and other designers. I believe the best results usually come when each person brings their own expertise to the process and everyone is focused on improving the project rather than protecting individual ideas.
I try to make collaboration straightforward and transparent. At the beginning of a project, I believe it is important to define the brief, responsibilities, technical requirements, deliverables, and expectations as clearly as possible. Many problems in professional projects are not really design problems; they are communication problems that could have been avoided earlier.
When choosing business partners or collaborators, I value reliability, curiosity, professionalism, and openness. I prefer working with people who can communicate honestly, respect deadlines and responsibilities, and are willing to challenge an idea constructively when they believe there is a better solution.
I also value people who understand that criticism is part of the design process. I do not expect collaborators to agree with every decision I make. In fact, I appreciate working with people who can explain a different perspective and support it with technical or practical reasoning.
When working with manufacturers, I especially look for a willingness to experiment. A manufacturer with strong technical knowledge and an open attitude can become an important creative partner. Some of the best solutions emerge through discussions about materials, tooling, assembly, production limitations, and cost.
My own responsibilities normally extend beyond creating the initial concept. I am involved in sketching, design development, 3D modeling, material selection, construction logic, lighting considerations, visualization, technical refinement, communication with manufacturers, and preparation for prototyping and production. I like to remain involved long enough to ensure that the essential character of the design survives the transition from concept to real product.
One of the main challenges of industrial design is balancing different priorities. A product needs to satisfy creative ambitions, user requirements, engineering realities, manufacturing limitations, budget, timing, and commercial expectations. These priorities do not always agree, and part of the designer’s responsibility is to find the best balance without losing the original purpose of the project.
I believe a good designer should therefore have more than creativity. Curiosity, patience, empathy, discipline, communication skills, technical awareness, adaptability, and the ability to accept criticism are equally important.
The most important principle in my work culture is that the project should always be more important than ego. I prefer an environment where ideas can be questioned openly, decisions have clear reasons behind them, and everyone involved is working toward the strongest possible final result.
Although I often lead projects independently through my own design practice, I do not see design as an isolated activity. Depending on the project, I work closely with manufacturers, engineers, craftspeople, clients, architects, and other designers. I believe the best results usually come when each person brings their own expertise to the process and everyone is focused on improving the project rather than protecting individual ideas.
I try to make collaboration straightforward and transparent. At the beginning of a project, I believe it is important to define the brief, responsibilities, technical requirements, deliverables, and expectations as clearly as possible. Many problems in professional projects are not really design problems; they are communication problems that could have been avoided earlier.
When choosing business partners or collaborators, I value reliability, curiosity, professionalism, and openness. I prefer working with people who can communicate honestly, respect deadlines and responsibilities, and are willing to challenge an idea constructively when they believe there is a better solution.
I also value people who understand that criticism is part of the design process. I do not expect collaborators to agree with every decision I make. In fact, I appreciate working with people who can explain a different perspective and support it with technical or practical reasoning.
When working with manufacturers, I especially look for a willingness to experiment. A manufacturer with strong technical knowledge and an open attitude can become an important creative partner. Some of the best solutions emerge through discussions about materials, tooling, assembly, production limitations, and cost.
My own responsibilities normally extend beyond creating the initial concept. I am involved in sketching, design development, 3D modeling, material selection, construction logic, lighting considerations, visualization, technical refinement, communication with manufacturers, and preparation for prototyping and production. I like to remain involved long enough to ensure that the essential character of the design survives the transition from concept to real product.
One of the main challenges of industrial design is balancing different priorities. A product needs to satisfy creative ambitions, user requirements, engineering realities, manufacturing limitations, budget, timing, and commercial expectations. These priorities do not always agree, and part of the designer’s responsibility is to find the best balance without losing the original purpose of the project.
I believe a good designer should therefore have more than creativity. Curiosity, patience, empathy, discipline, communication skills, technical awareness, adaptability, and the ability to accept criticism are equally important.
The most important principle in my work culture is that the project should always be more important than ego. I prefer an environment where ideas can be questioned openly, decisions have clear reasons behind them, and everyone involved is working toward the strongest possible final result.
I believe a designer’s contribution to society does not have to be limited to commercial projects. Sharing knowledge, supporting younger designers, participating in education, and contributing to the design community can also create meaningful long-term value.
One of the main ways I have tried to give back is through design education. I have worked as an industrial design lecturer, and teaching has always been important to me because it allows practical experience to be passed to the next generation. I particularly try to help students understand the connection between creativity and reality: how an idea can move from a sketch into a technically resolved and manufacturable product.
I have also participated in design juries, reviews, and educational activities. These experiences give me the opportunity not only to evaluate projects, but also to provide constructive feedback and help young designers recognize both the strengths and weaknesses of their work. I believe good feedback can sometimes have a much longer impact than simply selecting a winner.
Another area I care about is helping younger designers understand aspects of professional practice that are not always fully covered in academic education, such as working with manufacturers, communicating with clients and engineers, developing prototypes, presenting a portfolio, and understanding production constraints. I would like to continue developing workshops and educational activities around manufacturable design and real-world product development.
I strongly support designers, artists, and architects becoming involved in humanitarian and socially responsible projects. Design has the ability to improve accessibility, safety, public environments, resource efficiency, and quality of life. When design skills can contribute to a genuine social need, I believe professionals should be willing to participate, including through pro bono work when the project is meaningful and the circumstances allow it.
I also believe that creating opportunities for younger designers is important. This can happen through mentoring, collaboration, introducing them to manufacturers or professional networks, inviting them into projects, or simply sharing honest knowledge about how the industry works.
What I value most about good design is that it can improve everyday life without necessarily demanding attention. A thoughtful object, public product, lighting solution, or environment can make something safer, easier, more comfortable, more inclusive, or simply more humane.
For me, contributing to society as a designer means using experience not only to create better products, but also to help build a stronger design culture. If knowledge, opportunities, and experience are shared, their value extends much further than any single project.
One of the main ways I have tried to give back is through design education. I have worked as an industrial design lecturer, and teaching has always been important to me because it allows practical experience to be passed to the next generation. I particularly try to help students understand the connection between creativity and reality: how an idea can move from a sketch into a technically resolved and manufacturable product.
I have also participated in design juries, reviews, and educational activities. These experiences give me the opportunity not only to evaluate projects, but also to provide constructive feedback and help young designers recognize both the strengths and weaknesses of their work. I believe good feedback can sometimes have a much longer impact than simply selecting a winner.
Another area I care about is helping younger designers understand aspects of professional practice that are not always fully covered in academic education, such as working with manufacturers, communicating with clients and engineers, developing prototypes, presenting a portfolio, and understanding production constraints. I would like to continue developing workshops and educational activities around manufacturable design and real-world product development.
I strongly support designers, artists, and architects becoming involved in humanitarian and socially responsible projects. Design has the ability to improve accessibility, safety, public environments, resource efficiency, and quality of life. When design skills can contribute to a genuine social need, I believe professionals should be willing to participate, including through pro bono work when the project is meaningful and the circumstances allow it.
I also believe that creating opportunities for younger designers is important. This can happen through mentoring, collaboration, introducing them to manufacturers or professional networks, inviting them into projects, or simply sharing honest knowledge about how the industry works.
What I value most about good design is that it can improve everyday life without necessarily demanding attention. A thoughtful object, public product, lighting solution, or environment can make something safer, easier, more comfortable, more inclusive, or simply more humane.
For me, contributing to society as a designer means using experience not only to create better products, but also to help build a stronger design culture. If knowledge, opportunities, and experience are shared, their value extends much further than any single project.
Participating in the A’ Design Award has been a very positive experience for me because it gave my work the opportunity to be evaluated and presented within an international design context.
One of the most valuable aspects has been seeing projects that began as ideas in my studio reach a much wider audience. When a design is recognized internationally, it creates a different kind of dialogue around the work and allows people from different countries, cultures, and professional backgrounds to discover it.
I believe there are three particularly important benefits to participating in design awards and competitions.
The first is independent evaluation. Designers spend a great deal of time very close to their own work, so having a project reviewed from outside can provide useful perspective. Recognition can confirm that certain design decisions communicate successfully beyond the original context of the project.
The second benefit is visibility. Awards can help designers present their work to media, manufacturers, potential clients, other designers, and a wider international audience. For an independent designer especially, this kind of exposure can create opportunities that would otherwise be difficult to reach.
The third benefit is professional development and connection. Competitions introduce you to the work of designers from many different disciplines and countries. Seeing how other designers respond to similar technological, cultural, environmental, or functional challenges can be educational and inspiring. Awards can also lead to new conversations, collaborations, exhibitions, publications, and professional relationships.
Design competitions can also encourage designers to look at their own work more critically. Preparing a project for evaluation requires you to explain the concept clearly, select the right images, communicate technical and functional qualities, and understand what genuinely distinguishes the design. That process itself can improve the way a designer thinks about and presents their work.
At the same time, I believe awards should be seen as part of a design career rather than its purpose. The most important objective is still to create meaningful, well-resolved work. Recognition is valuable when it helps that work reach the right audience and creates opportunities for further development.
Being featured as Designer of the Day is therefore especially meaningful to me. I see it not simply as personal recognition, but as an opportunity to share my design philosophy, experience, and work with a broader audience. I am grateful for the recognition, and I hope it also encourages new conversations and collaborations around design.
Most importantly, recognition motivates me to continue developing. Rather than seeing an award as the conclusion of a project or career stage, I prefer to see it as encouragement to ask what I can create better next.
One of the most valuable aspects has been seeing projects that began as ideas in my studio reach a much wider audience. When a design is recognized internationally, it creates a different kind of dialogue around the work and allows people from different countries, cultures, and professional backgrounds to discover it.
I believe there are three particularly important benefits to participating in design awards and competitions.
The first is independent evaluation. Designers spend a great deal of time very close to their own work, so having a project reviewed from outside can provide useful perspective. Recognition can confirm that certain design decisions communicate successfully beyond the original context of the project.
The second benefit is visibility. Awards can help designers present their work to media, manufacturers, potential clients, other designers, and a wider international audience. For an independent designer especially, this kind of exposure can create opportunities that would otherwise be difficult to reach.
The third benefit is professional development and connection. Competitions introduce you to the work of designers from many different disciplines and countries. Seeing how other designers respond to similar technological, cultural, environmental, or functional challenges can be educational and inspiring. Awards can also lead to new conversations, collaborations, exhibitions, publications, and professional relationships.
Design competitions can also encourage designers to look at their own work more critically. Preparing a project for evaluation requires you to explain the concept clearly, select the right images, communicate technical and functional qualities, and understand what genuinely distinguishes the design. That process itself can improve the way a designer thinks about and presents their work.
At the same time, I believe awards should be seen as part of a design career rather than its purpose. The most important objective is still to create meaningful, well-resolved work. Recognition is valuable when it helps that work reach the right audience and creates opportunities for further development.
Being featured as Designer of the Day is therefore especially meaningful to me. I see it not simply as personal recognition, but as an opportunity to share my design philosophy, experience, and work with a broader audience. I am grateful for the recognition, and I hope it also encourages new conversations and collaborations around design.
Most importantly, recognition motivates me to continue developing. Rather than seeing an award as the conclusion of a project or career stage, I prefer to see it as encouragement to ask what I can create better next.
Design Legend Interview
1 September 2026
My background is in industrial design, with both my academic education and professional career focused on developing products that combine functionality, aesthetics, and manufacturability.
I received my Bachelor’s degree in Industrial Design from Tabriz Islamic Art University, where I built a strong foundation in product development, form studies, materials, ergonomics, model making, and design methodology. I later completed my Master’s degree in Industrial Design at the University of Art in Tehran, which allowed me to develop a more analytical and research-oriented approach to design and to explore the relationship between concept, technology, production, and user experience.
Over the years, my professional focus gradually became more concentrated on product and lighting design. Lighting especially attracted me because it exists somewhere between an industrial product, an architectural element, and an emotional object. It requires attention not only to form, but also to light behavior, materials, engineering, manufacturing processes, and atmosphere.
Alongside my professional practice, I have also been involved in design education and teaching, which has had a significant influence on the way I approach design. Teaching encouraged me to continuously question design decisions and to think more deeply about how an initial idea can evolve into a meaningful and manufacturable product.
Today, through my independent design practice, I work mainly on lighting, furniture-related products, and physical product development, collaborating with manufacturers and clients on projects that move from early concept and sketching through 3D development, material selection, prototyping, and production.
I received my Bachelor’s degree in Industrial Design from Tabriz Islamic Art University, where I built a strong foundation in product development, form studies, materials, ergonomics, model making, and design methodology. I later completed my Master’s degree in Industrial Design at the University of Art in Tehran, which allowed me to develop a more analytical and research-oriented approach to design and to explore the relationship between concept, technology, production, and user experience.
Over the years, my professional focus gradually became more concentrated on product and lighting design. Lighting especially attracted me because it exists somewhere between an industrial product, an architectural element, and an emotional object. It requires attention not only to form, but also to light behavior, materials, engineering, manufacturing processes, and atmosphere.
Alongside my professional practice, I have also been involved in design education and teaching, which has had a significant influence on the way I approach design. Teaching encouraged me to continuously question design decisions and to think more deeply about how an initial idea can evolve into a meaningful and manufacturable product.
Today, through my independent design practice, I work mainly on lighting, furniture-related products, and physical product development, collaborating with manufacturers and clients on projects that move from early concept and sketching through 3D development, material selection, prototyping, and production.
What motivates me most about design is the possibility of turning an abstract idea into something real, useful, and meaningful. I have always been interested in understanding how things work, why they are shaped in a certain way, and how they could be improved. Design gave me a way to combine this curiosity with creativity.
I became a designer because I was drawn to the process of transformation: starting from an observation, a problem, or even a simple emotion, and gradually developing it into a physical object that can be experienced by others. For me, design is not only about creating attractive forms. It is about finding the right balance between function, emotion, materials, manufacturing, and the way people interact with an object.
Another important motivation is the challenge of making ideas manufacturable. I enjoy the point where a concept has to move beyond sketches and renderings and face the realities of structure, materials, assembly, production methods, cost, and durability. That transition from imagination to production is one of the most satisfying parts of the design process for me.
Lighting design has become especially important in my work because light has an unusual ability to change both an object and the atmosphere around it. A lighting product is not only something you look at; it also influences how a space feels. This combination of physical product design and emotional experience continues to motivate me.
Ultimately, I design because I enjoy creating objects that have a clear reason to exist. I am motivated by the idea that a well-designed product can quietly improve an environment, solve a problem, create an emotional connection, or simply make everyday life a little more considered.
I became a designer because I was drawn to the process of transformation: starting from an observation, a problem, or even a simple emotion, and gradually developing it into a physical object that can be experienced by others. For me, design is not only about creating attractive forms. It is about finding the right balance between function, emotion, materials, manufacturing, and the way people interact with an object.
Another important motivation is the challenge of making ideas manufacturable. I enjoy the point where a concept has to move beyond sketches and renderings and face the realities of structure, materials, assembly, production methods, cost, and durability. That transition from imagination to production is one of the most satisfying parts of the design process for me.
Lighting design has become especially important in my work because light has an unusual ability to change both an object and the atmosphere around it. A lighting product is not only something you look at; it also influences how a space feels. This combination of physical product design and emotional experience continues to motivate me.
Ultimately, I design because I enjoy creating objects that have a clear reason to exist. I am motivated by the idea that a well-designed product can quietly improve an environment, solve a problem, create an emotional connection, or simply make everyday life a little more considered.
Becoming a designer was definitely a choice rather than something I was forced into. From an early stage, I was naturally interested in drawing, making things, understanding how objects were constructed, and imagining how they could be different or better.
What attracted me to industrial design was that it combined several things I was interested in at the same time: creativity, problem solving, technology, materials, and the possibility of creating real physical objects. Once I discovered industrial design as a field, it felt like a natural direction for me.
Of course, becoming a professional designer is not a single decision. It is a process that continues over many years. My interests evolved through education, teaching, working with manufacturers, developing products, and experiencing the realities of production. With every project, I became more certain that design was the field in which I wanted to build my career.
So I would say I chose design initially, but over time it became much more than a profession. It became the way I observe objects, spaces, materials, and everyday problems, and the way I communicate ideas through physical form.
What attracted me to industrial design was that it combined several things I was interested in at the same time: creativity, problem solving, technology, materials, and the possibility of creating real physical objects. Once I discovered industrial design as a field, it felt like a natural direction for me.
Of course, becoming a professional designer is not a single decision. It is a process that continues over many years. My interests evolved through education, teaching, working with manufacturers, developing products, and experiencing the realities of production. With every project, I became more certain that design was the field in which I wanted to build my career.
So I would say I chose design initially, but over time it became much more than a profession. It became the way I observe objects, spaces, materials, and everyday problems, and the way I communicate ideas through physical form.
I design physical products, with a particular focus on lighting design, furniture-related objects, and products where form, material, structure, and manufacturing need to work closely together.
Lighting has become the strongest and most consistent part of my work. I am especially interested in designing pendant lights, wall lights, table lamps, floor lamps, and modular lighting systems that can create both a functional and an emotional experience. I enjoy working on products where the behavior of light is as important as the physical form of the object itself.
In addition to lighting, I have worked on furniture-related products, urban furniture, and other industrial products. What connects these projects is my interest in creating objects that can move successfully from concept to production. I enjoy developing the complete design process, from sketches and initial ideas to 3D modeling, material selection, detailing, prototyping, and manufacturing considerations.
In the future, I would like to design more lighting systems and product collections that explore modularity, new materials, interaction, and different relationships between light and space. I am particularly interested in projects where design can go beyond a single object and become part of a larger system or environment.
I would also like to collaborate more with manufacturers, architects, and international brands on products that combine strong visual identity with real production logic. For me, the most exciting projects are those where experimentation and creativity are supported by a clear understanding of how the product will actually be made, assembled, used, and experienced.
Lighting has become the strongest and most consistent part of my work. I am especially interested in designing pendant lights, wall lights, table lamps, floor lamps, and modular lighting systems that can create both a functional and an emotional experience. I enjoy working on products where the behavior of light is as important as the physical form of the object itself.
In addition to lighting, I have worked on furniture-related products, urban furniture, and other industrial products. What connects these projects is my interest in creating objects that can move successfully from concept to production. I enjoy developing the complete design process, from sketches and initial ideas to 3D modeling, material selection, detailing, prototyping, and manufacturing considerations.
In the future, I would like to design more lighting systems and product collections that explore modularity, new materials, interaction, and different relationships between light and space. I am particularly interested in projects where design can go beyond a single object and become part of a larger system or environment.
I would also like to collaborate more with manufacturers, architects, and international brands on products that combine strong visual identity with real production logic. For me, the most exciting projects are those where experimentation and creativity are supported by a clear understanding of how the product will actually be made, assembled, used, and experienced.
I am not sure I would describe myself as a design legend; I still see myself as a designer who is learning, experimenting, and developing with every project. But based on my experience, I believe young designers should focus less on titles and recognition and more on building a strong and authentic body of work.
One of the most important things is to remain curious. Observe how people use objects, study materials and manufacturing processes, understand how things are made, and constantly ask why a product has been designed in a particular way. Good design often begins with careful observation rather than immediately trying to create an impressive form.
I also encourage young designers to move beyond images and renderings whenever possible. Sketch, model, prototype, test, make mistakes, and understand production. A beautiful concept becomes much more valuable when a designer also understands structure, materials, assembly, cost, durability, and the realities of manufacturing.
Developing a personal design language is important, but it should happen naturally. It comes from years of working, experimenting, failing, improving, and gradually discovering the subjects and problems that genuinely interest you. Following trends may create attractive work for a short time, but developing your own way of thinking creates a much stronger foundation for a long career.
Young designers should also learn to communicate their ideas clearly. A strong idea that cannot be explained, presented, or developed collaboratively may never reach its full potential. Design today is rarely an isolated activity; it involves engineers, manufacturers, craftspeople, clients, users, and many other disciplines.
Finally, I would tell young designers to be patient. Recognition can be useful, but it should be the result rather than the purpose of the work. Build real projects, keep improving your skills, stay open to criticism, and continue creating even when the results are not immediate. A meaningful design career is built gradually through consistency, curiosity, and the willingness to keep learning.
One of the most important things is to remain curious. Observe how people use objects, study materials and manufacturing processes, understand how things are made, and constantly ask why a product has been designed in a particular way. Good design often begins with careful observation rather than immediately trying to create an impressive form.
I also encourage young designers to move beyond images and renderings whenever possible. Sketch, model, prototype, test, make mistakes, and understand production. A beautiful concept becomes much more valuable when a designer also understands structure, materials, assembly, cost, durability, and the realities of manufacturing.
Developing a personal design language is important, but it should happen naturally. It comes from years of working, experimenting, failing, improving, and gradually discovering the subjects and problems that genuinely interest you. Following trends may create attractive work for a short time, but developing your own way of thinking creates a much stronger foundation for a long career.
Young designers should also learn to communicate their ideas clearly. A strong idea that cannot be explained, presented, or developed collaboratively may never reach its full potential. Design today is rarely an isolated activity; it involves engineers, manufacturers, craftspeople, clients, users, and many other disciplines.
Finally, I would tell young designers to be patient. Recognition can be useful, but it should be the result rather than the purpose of the work. Build real projects, keep improving your skills, stay open to criticism, and continue creating even when the results are not immediate. A meaningful design career is built gradually through consistency, curiosity, and the willingness to keep learning.
I believe a good designer can solve a problem effectively and create a product that is functional, visually considered, and appropriate for its context. A great designer goes further: they are able to understand the deeper meaning of the problem, question the obvious solution, and create something that remains relevant beyond the immediate brief.
What distinguishes a great designer is not only creativity, but judgment. It is the ability to know when to add something and when to remove it, when technology is necessary and when simplicity is stronger, and how to balance aesthetics, function, material, manufacturing, cost, and user experience without allowing one aspect to dominate the others.
Great designers are also very good observers. They pay attention to people, behavior, culture, technology, materials, and changes in society. They do not design only from personal taste; they understand the wider context in which a product will exist.
Another important difference is the ability to transform an idea into reality. A concept may be visually impressive, but a great designer understands how it can be manufactured, assembled, maintained, and used over time. For me, this connection between creativity and production is essential.
Finally, I think great designers remain curious and open to learning. They do not assume that previous success means they already know the answer. Every new project becomes another opportunity to question their methods, learn something new, and improve the way they think.
In that sense, greatness in design is less about creating one extraordinary object and more about consistently making thoughtful decisions that lead to meaningful and lasting work.
What distinguishes a great designer is not only creativity, but judgment. It is the ability to know when to add something and when to remove it, when technology is necessary and when simplicity is stronger, and how to balance aesthetics, function, material, manufacturing, cost, and user experience without allowing one aspect to dominate the others.
Great designers are also very good observers. They pay attention to people, behavior, culture, technology, materials, and changes in society. They do not design only from personal taste; they understand the wider context in which a product will exist.
Another important difference is the ability to transform an idea into reality. A concept may be visually impressive, but a great designer understands how it can be manufactured, assembled, maintained, and used over time. For me, this connection between creativity and production is essential.
Finally, I think great designers remain curious and open to learning. They do not assume that previous success means they already know the answer. Every new project becomes another opportunity to question their methods, learn something new, and improve the way they think.
In that sense, greatness in design is less about creating one extraordinary object and more about consistently making thoughtful decisions that lead to meaningful and lasting work.
For me, a really good design is one in which the different elements feel resolved together. Function, form, material, manufacturing, user experience, and emotion should support each other rather than compete with one another.
When I evaluate a design, I first ask whether there is a clear reason behind it. I want to understand what problem it is addressing, what value it creates, and whether the design decisions are meaningful or simply decorative. A strong design usually has a certain clarity; even when it is visually complex, there is an underlying logic that can be understood.
Functionality is essential, but good design should go beyond simply performing a task. It should create a positive relationship with the user. Sometimes this comes through ergonomics, sometimes through material and tactility, and sometimes through an emotional or visual quality that makes the object memorable.
I also pay close attention to how realistically a product can be produced. Material choice, construction, assembly, durability, maintenance, and manufacturing processes are all part of the design itself. I do not see production as something that happens after design; it should influence the design from the beginning.
Another important criterion is longevity. I appreciate products that do not depend entirely on temporary trends and can remain meaningful and relevant over time. This does not necessarily mean that a design must be visually minimal or timeless in a conventional sense, but it should have enough depth and integrity to survive beyond its first visual impression.
In lighting design, I evaluate one additional dimension: the quality of the light itself. A lighting product can have a beautiful physical form, but if the light distribution, atmosphere, glare control, or interaction with the surrounding space is not considered properly, the design is incomplete.
Ultimately, I think a really good design feels inevitable. When you look at it, its form, function, material, and details seem to belong together so naturally that it becomes difficult to imagine the product being designed in another way.
When I evaluate a design, I first ask whether there is a clear reason behind it. I want to understand what problem it is addressing, what value it creates, and whether the design decisions are meaningful or simply decorative. A strong design usually has a certain clarity; even when it is visually complex, there is an underlying logic that can be understood.
Functionality is essential, but good design should go beyond simply performing a task. It should create a positive relationship with the user. Sometimes this comes through ergonomics, sometimes through material and tactility, and sometimes through an emotional or visual quality that makes the object memorable.
I also pay close attention to how realistically a product can be produced. Material choice, construction, assembly, durability, maintenance, and manufacturing processes are all part of the design itself. I do not see production as something that happens after design; it should influence the design from the beginning.
Another important criterion is longevity. I appreciate products that do not depend entirely on temporary trends and can remain meaningful and relevant over time. This does not necessarily mean that a design must be visually minimal or timeless in a conventional sense, but it should have enough depth and integrity to survive beyond its first visual impression.
In lighting design, I evaluate one additional dimension: the quality of the light itself. A lighting product can have a beautiful physical form, but if the light distribution, atmosphere, glare control, or interaction with the surrounding space is not considered properly, the design is incomplete.
Ultimately, I think a really good design feels inevitable. When you look at it, its form, function, material, and details seem to belong together so naturally that it becomes difficult to imagine the product being designed in another way.
Good design creates value on several levels at the same time. It can improve the way a product functions, how easily it is understood and used, how efficiently it is manufactured, how long it lasts, and how strongly people connect with it.
For users, good design can make everyday experiences simpler, more comfortable, more intuitive, and more enjoyable. Many of the best-designed products do not constantly demand attention; they simply work well and become a natural part of people’s lives.
For companies and manufacturers, design is also a strategic investment. A well-designed product can create differentiation in a crowded market, strengthen brand identity, reduce unnecessary complexity, improve production efficiency, and increase the perceived and actual value of a product. Good design can also help a company build a more consistent relationship with its customers over time.
I believe design should be involved from the beginning of product development rather than being treated as a final cosmetic layer. When designers work closely with engineers, manufacturers, and decision-makers from the early stages, many problems can be prevented before they become expensive to solve.
There is also a longer-term value. Good design can encourage more responsible use of materials, better durability, repairability, and more thoughtful production decisions. Creating products that people want to keep and use for longer is increasingly important both economically and environmentally.
In my own field of lighting design, this value becomes especially visible because a lighting product affects both the physical object and the atmosphere of a space. Good lighting can improve comfort, perception, mood, and the overall experience of an environment.
Ultimately, investing in good design means investing in better decisions. It creates value not only through appearance, but through performance, usability, manufacturing, identity, longevity, and the quality of the experience a product creates.
For users, good design can make everyday experiences simpler, more comfortable, more intuitive, and more enjoyable. Many of the best-designed products do not constantly demand attention; they simply work well and become a natural part of people’s lives.
For companies and manufacturers, design is also a strategic investment. A well-designed product can create differentiation in a crowded market, strengthen brand identity, reduce unnecessary complexity, improve production efficiency, and increase the perceived and actual value of a product. Good design can also help a company build a more consistent relationship with its customers over time.
I believe design should be involved from the beginning of product development rather than being treated as a final cosmetic layer. When designers work closely with engineers, manufacturers, and decision-makers from the early stages, many problems can be prevented before they become expensive to solve.
There is also a longer-term value. Good design can encourage more responsible use of materials, better durability, repairability, and more thoughtful production decisions. Creating products that people want to keep and use for longer is increasingly important both economically and environmentally.
In my own field of lighting design, this value becomes especially visible because a lighting product affects both the physical object and the atmosphere of a space. Good lighting can improve comfort, perception, mood, and the overall experience of an environment.
Ultimately, investing in good design means investing in better decisions. It creates value not only through appearance, but through performance, usability, manufacturing, identity, longevity, and the quality of the experience a product creates.
If I had more time and complete freedom to choose, I would like to work on lighting projects that go beyond designing a single lamp and instead explore the relationship between light, objects, architecture, and human experience.
I am particularly interested in modular and adaptable lighting systems: products that can change in scale, configuration, material, or light behavior depending on the space and the needs of the user. I find this territory exciting because it combines product design, engineering, interaction, and architecture within the same project.
I would also like to spend more time experimenting with materials and manufacturing processes. Some of the most interesting ideas emerge when you work directly with materials and discover possibilities that are difficult to predict through drawings or digital modeling alone. I would enjoy developing projects where experimentation with glass, metal, stone, composites, or new sustainable materials becomes an important part of the design process.
As for who I would design for, I am most interested in working with manufacturers and brands that genuinely see designers as creative partners rather than simply as suppliers of attractive forms. The best collaborations, in my experience, happen when designers, engineers, craftspeople, and manufacturers can challenge each other and develop the product together.
I would also like to collaborate more closely with architects and interior designers on lighting specifically developed for particular spaces. Designing for a real architectural context creates a different challenge because the product must establish a relationship not only with the user, but also with scale, materials, shadows, movement, and the surrounding environment.
Ultimately, if time were not a limitation, I would design for people who value objects that have both a functional purpose and an emotional presence. I am interested in creating products that people do not simply use, but choose to live with for a long time.
I am particularly interested in modular and adaptable lighting systems: products that can change in scale, configuration, material, or light behavior depending on the space and the needs of the user. I find this territory exciting because it combines product design, engineering, interaction, and architecture within the same project.
I would also like to spend more time experimenting with materials and manufacturing processes. Some of the most interesting ideas emerge when you work directly with materials and discover possibilities that are difficult to predict through drawings or digital modeling alone. I would enjoy developing projects where experimentation with glass, metal, stone, composites, or new sustainable materials becomes an important part of the design process.
As for who I would design for, I am most interested in working with manufacturers and brands that genuinely see designers as creative partners rather than simply as suppliers of attractive forms. The best collaborations, in my experience, happen when designers, engineers, craftspeople, and manufacturers can challenge each other and develop the product together.
I would also like to collaborate more closely with architects and interior designers on lighting specifically developed for particular spaces. Designing for a real architectural context creates a different challenge because the product must establish a relationship not only with the user, but also with scale, materials, shadows, movement, and the surrounding environment.
Ultimately, if time were not a limitation, I would design for people who value objects that have both a functional purpose and an emotional presence. I am interested in creating products that people do not simply use, but choose to live with for a long time.
One project I would really like to realize is a complete lighting system designed as an architectural family rather than as a single product.
The idea would be to create a modular system that could exist in different scales and typologies, such as pendant, wall, floor, and spatial installations, while maintaining the same design language and construction logic. I would like each element to be adaptable, so that the system could respond to different spaces, functions, and lighting requirements without losing its identity.
What interests me most about this project is the possibility of combining several areas that I care about: light behavior, modularity, materials, engineering, manufacturing, and emotional experience. I would want the system to be technically rational and manufacturable, but at the same time capable of creating a strong atmosphere and architectural presence.
I would also like the project to include a high level of material experimentation. Instead of choosing materials only after the form has been defined, I would prefer the material, production process, and light effect to develop together from the beginning. Glass, metal, stone, composites, and translucent materials could each create very different relationships between the object and the light.
Another important aspect would be sustainability through longevity and adaptability. I am interested in products that can evolve rather than become obsolete, where components can be replaced, reconfigured, repaired, or used in different settings over time.
To realize this properly, I would like to work closely with a manufacturer, lighting engineers, architects, and craftspeople from the early stages of development. For me, the dream is not simply to create a visually striking lamp, but to develop a complete lighting system that can become part of architecture and remain relevant for many years.
The idea would be to create a modular system that could exist in different scales and typologies, such as pendant, wall, floor, and spatial installations, while maintaining the same design language and construction logic. I would like each element to be adaptable, so that the system could respond to different spaces, functions, and lighting requirements without losing its identity.
What interests me most about this project is the possibility of combining several areas that I care about: light behavior, modularity, materials, engineering, manufacturing, and emotional experience. I would want the system to be technically rational and manufacturable, but at the same time capable of creating a strong atmosphere and architectural presence.
I would also like the project to include a high level of material experimentation. Instead of choosing materials only after the form has been defined, I would prefer the material, production process, and light effect to develop together from the beginning. Glass, metal, stone, composites, and translucent materials could each create very different relationships between the object and the light.
Another important aspect would be sustainability through longevity and adaptability. I am interested in products that can evolve rather than become obsolete, where components can be replaced, reconfigured, repaired, or used in different settings over time.
To realize this properly, I would like to work closely with a manufacturer, lighting engineers, architects, and craftspeople from the early stages of development. For me, the dream is not simply to create a visually striking lamp, but to develop a complete lighting system that can become part of architecture and remain relevant for many years.
If I had to describe a secret ingredient, I would say it is a combination of curiosity, persistence, and the willingness to keep refining an idea until it becomes convincing both creatively and technically.
I do not believe good design usually appears as a perfect idea at the beginning. Most projects become stronger through questioning, testing, simplifying, making mistakes, and returning to the problem several times. I try not to become too attached to the first solution, even when it looks attractive. If something does not work structurally, functionally, or emotionally, I prefer to rethink it rather than defend it simply because it was my original idea.
Curiosity is equally important. I am constantly interested in materials, production methods, mechanisms, light behavior, architecture, art, and the way people interact with objects. Inspiration can come from many different places, but the important part is translating that inspiration into a design decision that has a clear purpose.
Another ingredient is staying close to manufacturing. I have always believed that understanding how a product will actually be made improves the quality of the design. Production constraints are not necessarily limitations; very often they create new ideas and lead to more intelligent solutions.
Finally, consistency matters. A design career is built through many projects, including the ones that fail, change direction, or never reach production. I try to learn something from each of them and carry that knowledge into the next project.
So perhaps my secret recipe is not really a secret: remain curious, question your own decisions, understand how things are made, and keep working until the idea becomes clearer and stronger.
I do not believe good design usually appears as a perfect idea at the beginning. Most projects become stronger through questioning, testing, simplifying, making mistakes, and returning to the problem several times. I try not to become too attached to the first solution, even when it looks attractive. If something does not work structurally, functionally, or emotionally, I prefer to rethink it rather than defend it simply because it was my original idea.
Curiosity is equally important. I am constantly interested in materials, production methods, mechanisms, light behavior, architecture, art, and the way people interact with objects. Inspiration can come from many different places, but the important part is translating that inspiration into a design decision that has a clear purpose.
Another ingredient is staying close to manufacturing. I have always believed that understanding how a product will actually be made improves the quality of the design. Production constraints are not necessarily limitations; very often they create new ideas and lead to more intelligent solutions.
Finally, consistency matters. A design career is built through many projects, including the ones that fail, change direction, or never reach production. I try to learn something from each of them and carry that knowledge into the next project.
So perhaps my secret recipe is not really a secret: remain curious, question your own decisions, understand how things are made, and keep working until the idea becomes clearer and stronger.
There are many designers whose work I admire, but a few have had a particularly strong influence on the way I think about products and lighting.
Wilhelm Wagenfeld is one of them. I am interested in the clarity and discipline of his work, especially the way he combined industrial production with a very refined sense of proportion and simplicity. His approach shows how a product can be technically rational and still have a strong cultural and emotional presence.
Achille Castiglioni is another designer I greatly admire. His work demonstrates an extraordinary ability to observe everyday life and transform simple ideas into intelligent, unexpected, and often playful objects. I especially appreciate the way he could create products with a very strong identity without making them unnecessarily complicated.
In lighting, Poul Henningsen has always been important to me because he approached light itself as a design material. His work was not only about the form of the fixture, but about controlling glare, reflection, atmosphere, and the quality of illumination. That way of thinking remains extremely relevant today.
I am also inspired by Ingo Maurer, particularly for the opposite reason. His work demonstrates how lighting can become poetic, experimental, emotional, and almost theatrical. He expanded the idea of what a lighting product could be and showed that technology and imagination do not have to be separated.
Dieter Rams has also influenced my thinking through his emphasis on clarity, responsibility, longevity, and reduction. I find his approach especially valuable when considering whether every element of a design is genuinely necessary.
What I learn from these designers is not a particular visual style. In fact, their work is very different. What inspires me is the depth of their thinking and the consistency between idea, function, technology, material, and form. I think the most valuable lesson from great designers is not to imitate what they designed, but to understand how they thought.
Wilhelm Wagenfeld is one of them. I am interested in the clarity and discipline of his work, especially the way he combined industrial production with a very refined sense of proportion and simplicity. His approach shows how a product can be technically rational and still have a strong cultural and emotional presence.
Achille Castiglioni is another designer I greatly admire. His work demonstrates an extraordinary ability to observe everyday life and transform simple ideas into intelligent, unexpected, and often playful objects. I especially appreciate the way he could create products with a very strong identity without making them unnecessarily complicated.
In lighting, Poul Henningsen has always been important to me because he approached light itself as a design material. His work was not only about the form of the fixture, but about controlling glare, reflection, atmosphere, and the quality of illumination. That way of thinking remains extremely relevant today.
I am also inspired by Ingo Maurer, particularly for the opposite reason. His work demonstrates how lighting can become poetic, experimental, emotional, and almost theatrical. He expanded the idea of what a lighting product could be and showed that technology and imagination do not have to be separated.
Dieter Rams has also influenced my thinking through his emphasis on clarity, responsibility, longevity, and reduction. I find his approach especially valuable when considering whether every element of a design is genuinely necessary.
What I learn from these designers is not a particular visual style. In fact, their work is very different. What inspires me is the depth of their thinking and the consistency between idea, function, technology, material, and form. I think the most valuable lesson from great designers is not to imitate what they designed, but to understand how they thought.
There are several designs by other designers that I continue to admire because they demonstrate how a strong idea can survive for decades without losing its relevance.
One of them is the Wagenfeld Table Lamp. I admire the clarity of its construction and the balance between industrial logic and visual refinement. Every component feels necessary, and the relationship between glass, metal, geometry, and light is extremely controlled. What I find particularly interesting is that despite its simplicity, it still has a very recognizable identity.
Another favorite is the Arco Lamp by Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni. I appreciate it because the design begins with a very practical problem: how to provide overhead light without fixing a fixture to the ceiling. The solution is technically direct, yet it creates an extraordinary sculptural presence. The marble base, curved stainless-steel stem, and suspended reflector each perform a clear function while together creating something iconic.
I also greatly admire Poul Henningsen’s PH lighting system, particularly the PH 5. What interests me is that its form is fundamentally generated by the behavior of light. The layered reflectors are not simply a visual composition; they control glare and distribution. It is a very good example of how technical understanding can become the source of a strong visual identity.
At another end of the spectrum, I find Ingo Maurer’s Lucellino fascinating. It demonstrates how a lighting object can communicate emotion, humor, and poetry while remaining extremely simple. It reminds me that lighting does not always have to be purely rational; sometimes a small conceptual gesture can completely change the relationship between the user and the object.
What connects these designs for me is that none of them depends only on appearance. Each has a clear idea behind it. Their forms emerge from function, technology, material, or a particular way of thinking about light. That is what I value most in design: when an object is memorable not because it is trying to attract attention, but because the idea behind it is strong enough to give the product its own identity.
One of them is the Wagenfeld Table Lamp. I admire the clarity of its construction and the balance between industrial logic and visual refinement. Every component feels necessary, and the relationship between glass, metal, geometry, and light is extremely controlled. What I find particularly interesting is that despite its simplicity, it still has a very recognizable identity.
Another favorite is the Arco Lamp by Achille and Pier Giacomo Castiglioni. I appreciate it because the design begins with a very practical problem: how to provide overhead light without fixing a fixture to the ceiling. The solution is technically direct, yet it creates an extraordinary sculptural presence. The marble base, curved stainless-steel stem, and suspended reflector each perform a clear function while together creating something iconic.
I also greatly admire Poul Henningsen’s PH lighting system, particularly the PH 5. What interests me is that its form is fundamentally generated by the behavior of light. The layered reflectors are not simply a visual composition; they control glare and distribution. It is a very good example of how technical understanding can become the source of a strong visual identity.
At another end of the spectrum, I find Ingo Maurer’s Lucellino fascinating. It demonstrates how a lighting object can communicate emotion, humor, and poetry while remaining extremely simple. It reminds me that lighting does not always have to be purely rational; sometimes a small conceptual gesture can completely change the relationship between the user and the object.
What connects these designs for me is that none of them depends only on appearance. Each has a clear idea behind it. Their forms emerge from function, technology, material, or a particular way of thinking about light. That is what I value most in design: when an object is memorable not because it is trying to attract attention, but because the idea behind it is strong enough to give the product its own identity.
It is difficult for me to identify one design as my greatest, because each project represents a different stage of my development as a designer. However, I would consider the Duk Collection one of the works that best represents my design approach.
What makes Duk important to me is the balance between a strong sculptural identity and the practical requirements of a lighting product. I wanted the form to have a clear presence even when the light was switched off, while at the same time ensuring that the lighting effect remained an essential part of the experience rather than simply being added to the object.
Another aspect I value is the relationship between simplicity and character. The design is visually distinctive, but it is not based on unnecessary complexity. The proportions, structure, materials, and light distribution were developed together so that the product could maintain a recognizable identity while remaining realistic from a manufacturing perspective.
For me, manufacturability is an important measure of whether a concept is truly resolved. A design can be very attractive in a rendering, but it becomes much more meaningful when its construction, assembly, materials, and production logic have also been considered carefully. Duk reflects this way of working.
I also appreciate that the collection can exist as more than a single decorative object. It has the potential to develop across different applications and scales while maintaining the same visual language, which is something I frequently explore in my lighting work.
Perhaps the most rewarding aspect is that Duk communicates what I am trying to achieve in my work: creating lighting products that exist somewhere between functional industrial objects and expressive elements within a space. For that reason, I see it as one of the clearest representations of my design philosophy so far.
What makes Duk important to me is the balance between a strong sculptural identity and the practical requirements of a lighting product. I wanted the form to have a clear presence even when the light was switched off, while at the same time ensuring that the lighting effect remained an essential part of the experience rather than simply being added to the object.
Another aspect I value is the relationship between simplicity and character. The design is visually distinctive, but it is not based on unnecessary complexity. The proportions, structure, materials, and light distribution were developed together so that the product could maintain a recognizable identity while remaining realistic from a manufacturing perspective.
For me, manufacturability is an important measure of whether a concept is truly resolved. A design can be very attractive in a rendering, but it becomes much more meaningful when its construction, assembly, materials, and production logic have also been considered carefully. Duk reflects this way of working.
I also appreciate that the collection can exist as more than a single decorative object. It has the potential to develop across different applications and scales while maintaining the same visual language, which is something I frequently explore in my lighting work.
Perhaps the most rewarding aspect is that Duk communicates what I am trying to achieve in my work: creating lighting products that exist somewhere between functional industrial objects and expressive elements within a space. For that reason, I see it as one of the clearest representations of my design philosophy so far.
I believe designers improve by continuously expanding both the way they think and the way they work. Design is not a skill that can be completed through education alone; it develops through observation, practice, failure, criticism, and experience.
One of the most important things is to keep learning outside your immediate field. A designer should be curious about materials, manufacturing, engineering, architecture, art, technology, culture, and human behavior. The more connections you can make between different areas, the richer your design thinking becomes.
I also believe strongly in making and testing. Sketching and digital tools are extremely useful, but physical prototypes reveal problems that are often invisible on a screen. Working directly with materials, mechanisms, scale, and light has taught me a great deal over the years.
In my own development, I tried to move gradually beyond creating attractive concepts and understand what is required to turn an idea into a real product. Learning about manufacturing methods, assembly, tolerances, materials, and production limitations changed the way I design. Instead of seeing these factors as restrictions, I began to see them as part of the creative process.
Another important part of improving is learning to accept criticism. Designers naturally become attached to their ideas, but sometimes the strongest improvement happens when you are willing to question your own decisions. I try to look at each project from different perspectives and ask whether every element is really necessary and whether there might be a better solution.
I have also learned a great deal through repetition. The more projects you complete, the more clearly you begin to recognize your own strengths, weaknesses, habits, and design language. Even projects that are unsuccessful can become valuable if you understand what they taught you.
My advice to young designers would therefore be simple: keep observing, keep making, learn how things are produced, listen carefully to criticism, and never assume that you have finished learning. Design develops through accumulation. Every project adds another layer to the way you think.
One of the most important things is to keep learning outside your immediate field. A designer should be curious about materials, manufacturing, engineering, architecture, art, technology, culture, and human behavior. The more connections you can make between different areas, the richer your design thinking becomes.
I also believe strongly in making and testing. Sketching and digital tools are extremely useful, but physical prototypes reveal problems that are often invisible on a screen. Working directly with materials, mechanisms, scale, and light has taught me a great deal over the years.
In my own development, I tried to move gradually beyond creating attractive concepts and understand what is required to turn an idea into a real product. Learning about manufacturing methods, assembly, tolerances, materials, and production limitations changed the way I design. Instead of seeing these factors as restrictions, I began to see them as part of the creative process.
Another important part of improving is learning to accept criticism. Designers naturally become attached to their ideas, but sometimes the strongest improvement happens when you are willing to question your own decisions. I try to look at each project from different perspectives and ask whether every element is really necessary and whether there might be a better solution.
I have also learned a great deal through repetition. The more projects you complete, the more clearly you begin to recognize your own strengths, weaknesses, habits, and design language. Even projects that are unsuccessful can become valuable if you understand what they taught you.
My advice to young designers would therefore be simple: keep observing, keep making, learn how things are produced, listen carefully to criticism, and never assume that you have finished learning. Design develops through accumulation. Every project adds another layer to the way you think.
If I had not become a designer, I think I would probably have chosen a field related to architecture, engineering, or making. I have always been interested in how objects and spaces are constructed, how materials behave, and how ideas become physical realities.
Architecture would have been a natural direction because I am very interested in the relationship between objects, light, space, and human experience. At the same time, I also enjoy the technical side of development, so engineering or a more hands-on creative profession would probably have appealed to me as well.
In many ways, industrial design allowed me to bring all of these interests together. It gives me the freedom to think creatively, but also requires an understanding of structure, materials, production, and function.
So even if I had followed a different profession, I suspect I would still have found a way to work with form, materials, technology, and physical objects. The need to create and understand how things are made would probably have remained the same.
Architecture would have been a natural direction because I am very interested in the relationship between objects, light, space, and human experience. At the same time, I also enjoy the technical side of development, so engineering or a more hands-on creative profession would probably have appealed to me as well.
In many ways, industrial design allowed me to bring all of these interests together. It gives me the freedom to think creatively, but also requires an understanding of structure, materials, production, and function.
So even if I had followed a different profession, I suspect I would still have found a way to work with form, materials, technology, and physical objects. The need to create and understand how things are made would probably have remained the same.
For me, design is the process of giving meaningful form to an idea, a need, or a problem. It is not simply about how something looks, but about how function, material, technology, production, emotion, and user experience come together in a coherent solution.
I see design as a bridge between imagination and reality. An idea may begin as something abstract, but through design it gradually becomes something that can be made, used, experienced, and understood by others.
Good design also requires questioning. Why does this object need to exist? Why should it have this form? Why this material, this structure, or this manufacturing process? I believe every important decision should have a reason behind it, even if that reason is not immediately visible to the user.
At the same time, design is not purely rational. Objects can create emotional connections, influence atmosphere, communicate identity, and change the way people experience a space. This is especially important in lighting, where we are designing not only the physical object but also the light, shadow, mood, and environment around it.
Ultimately, I define design as thoughtful decision-making made visible through objects, systems, and experiences. For me, the strongest designs are those in which creativity and logic support each other so naturally that the final result feels both distinctive and inevitable.
I see design as a bridge between imagination and reality. An idea may begin as something abstract, but through design it gradually becomes something that can be made, used, experienced, and understood by others.
Good design also requires questioning. Why does this object need to exist? Why should it have this form? Why this material, this structure, or this manufacturing process? I believe every important decision should have a reason behind it, even if that reason is not immediately visible to the user.
At the same time, design is not purely rational. Objects can create emotional connections, influence atmosphere, communicate identity, and change the way people experience a space. This is especially important in lighting, where we are designing not only the physical object but also the light, shadow, mood, and environment around it.
Ultimately, I define design as thoughtful decision-making made visible through objects, systems, and experiences. For me, the strongest designs are those in which creativity and logic support each other so naturally that the final result feels both distinctive and inevitable.
I do not think anyone reaches an important point in their career completely alone. My progress has been shaped by many people who supported me at different stages, both personally and professionally.
My family has always been an important source of support, especially during periods when the results of design work were uncertain or when projects required a great deal of patience and persistence. Having people around you who believe in what you are doing gives you the confidence to continue, particularly in a creative profession where progress is rarely linear.
My wife, Sepideh, has also been one of my strongest supporters. She has been present through many stages of my professional journey, and her encouragement, perspective, and patience have been extremely valuable to me.
Professionally, I have also benefited greatly from teachers, colleagues, manufacturers, clients, and collaborators who trusted my ideas and gave me opportunities to develop them into real projects. Working with manufacturers in particular taught me lessons that cannot be learned only through academic education. Every collaboration added something to the way I understand design, production, communication, and responsibility.
I am grateful as well to the people who gave visibility to my work through exhibitions, publications, juries, and international collaborations. Sometimes a single opportunity, introduction, or piece of encouragement can create an entirely new direction in a designer’s career.
So rather than identifying success as the result of one person, I see it as the result of a network of support, trust, collaboration, and shared experience. If I had to identify the most important foundation, however, it would be the consistent support of the people closest to me, together with the professionals who believed that my ideas were worth developing.
My family has always been an important source of support, especially during periods when the results of design work were uncertain or when projects required a great deal of patience and persistence. Having people around you who believe in what you are doing gives you the confidence to continue, particularly in a creative profession where progress is rarely linear.
My wife, Sepideh, has also been one of my strongest supporters. She has been present through many stages of my professional journey, and her encouragement, perspective, and patience have been extremely valuable to me.
Professionally, I have also benefited greatly from teachers, colleagues, manufacturers, clients, and collaborators who trusted my ideas and gave me opportunities to develop them into real projects. Working with manufacturers in particular taught me lessons that cannot be learned only through academic education. Every collaboration added something to the way I understand design, production, communication, and responsibility.
I am grateful as well to the people who gave visibility to my work through exhibitions, publications, juries, and international collaborations. Sometimes a single opportunity, introduction, or piece of encouragement can create an entirely new direction in a designer’s career.
So rather than identifying success as the result of one person, I see it as the result of a network of support, trust, collaboration, and shared experience. If I had to identify the most important foundation, however, it would be the consistent support of the people closest to me, together with the professionals who believed that my ideas were worth developing.
I am still developing as a designer, so I would be cautious about describing myself as a great designer. What I can say is that several experiences have helped me become a more thoughtful and capable one.
The first is continuous practice. Design is something that becomes clearer through doing. Every project teaches you something new about proportion, function, materials, communication, production, and decision-making. Over time, these lessons accumulate and gradually shape the way you think.
Working closely with manufacturers has been especially important for me. It taught me to look beyond the image of a product and understand how it will actually be produced, assembled, transported, maintained, and used. This changed my approach significantly and helped me see manufacturing constraints as part of the creative process rather than as obstacles.
Teaching design also had a strong influence on me. When you have to explain a design decision to students, you are forced to question your own assumptions. Teaching encouraged me to think more systematically and to become more conscious of the reasons behind my choices.
International exhibitions, collaborations, competitions, and publications have also been valuable because they exposed my work to different audiences and perspectives. Seeing how people from different cultural and professional backgrounds respond to a project can teach you a great deal about communication and the universality, or limitations, of a design idea.
Criticism has also been important. Not every project succeeds, and not every idea deserves to survive. Learning to accept feedback, reconsider decisions, and sometimes start again has helped me improve more than simply repeating what has worked before.
Perhaps the most important factor has been persistence. Design careers develop slowly. There are projects that never reach production, opportunities that disappear, and ideas that take years to mature. Continuing to work, learn, and remain curious through those periods has probably contributed more to my development than any single achievement.
The first is continuous practice. Design is something that becomes clearer through doing. Every project teaches you something new about proportion, function, materials, communication, production, and decision-making. Over time, these lessons accumulate and gradually shape the way you think.
Working closely with manufacturers has been especially important for me. It taught me to look beyond the image of a product and understand how it will actually be produced, assembled, transported, maintained, and used. This changed my approach significantly and helped me see manufacturing constraints as part of the creative process rather than as obstacles.
Teaching design also had a strong influence on me. When you have to explain a design decision to students, you are forced to question your own assumptions. Teaching encouraged me to think more systematically and to become more conscious of the reasons behind my choices.
International exhibitions, collaborations, competitions, and publications have also been valuable because they exposed my work to different audiences and perspectives. Seeing how people from different cultural and professional backgrounds respond to a project can teach you a great deal about communication and the universality, or limitations, of a design idea.
Criticism has also been important. Not every project succeeds, and not every idea deserves to survive. Learning to accept feedback, reconsider decisions, and sometimes start again has helped me improve more than simply repeating what has worked before.
Perhaps the most important factor has been persistence. Design careers develop slowly. There are projects that never reach production, opportunities that disappear, and ideas that take years to mature. Continuing to work, learn, and remain curious through those periods has probably contributed more to my development than any single achievement.
I would not describe the journey as reaching the position of a “design master,” because I still see design as a continuous process of learning. However, there have certainly been many obstacles that shaped the designer I am today.
One of the biggest challenges was learning how to bridge the gap between an interesting concept and a product that could actually be manufactured. Early in a designer’s career, it is easy to focus mainly on form and creativity. Real projects quickly teach you that materials, tooling, construction, cost, tolerances, assembly, and production limitations are equally important. Developing this understanding took time, experimentation, and many revisions.
Another challenge was finding the right manufacturers and collaborators who were willing to develop new ideas rather than simply reproduce familiar solutions. Good design often requires experimentation, and experimentation involves uncertainty. Building trust with manufacturers and learning how to communicate ideas in a way that engineers and production teams can work with became an important part of my development.
Building international visibility was another gradual process. Exhibitions, competitions, publications, and collaborations can create opportunities, but none of them happens automatically. Presenting work internationally requires persistence, communication, documentation, and sometimes continuing despite rejection or projects that do not progress as expected.
Like most designers, I have also experienced concepts that never reached production, projects that changed completely during development, and opportunities that disappeared after considerable work. At first, these situations can feel like failures. Over time, I learned to treat them as part of the profession. Even an unrealized project can teach you something about design, business, communication, or production.
Another obstacle has been balancing creativity with commercial reality. A designer naturally wants to explore new ideas, while manufacturers and clients must consider cost, market demand, production risk, and timing. Learning to respect both perspectives without losing the original character of a design is an important skill.
Looking back, I think these obstacles were actually necessary. They forced me to become more patient, technically aware, adaptable, and persistent. Design develops not only through successful projects, but also through the problems you encounter and the solutions you learn to find along the way.
One of the biggest challenges was learning how to bridge the gap between an interesting concept and a product that could actually be manufactured. Early in a designer’s career, it is easy to focus mainly on form and creativity. Real projects quickly teach you that materials, tooling, construction, cost, tolerances, assembly, and production limitations are equally important. Developing this understanding took time, experimentation, and many revisions.
Another challenge was finding the right manufacturers and collaborators who were willing to develop new ideas rather than simply reproduce familiar solutions. Good design often requires experimentation, and experimentation involves uncertainty. Building trust with manufacturers and learning how to communicate ideas in a way that engineers and production teams can work with became an important part of my development.
Building international visibility was another gradual process. Exhibitions, competitions, publications, and collaborations can create opportunities, but none of them happens automatically. Presenting work internationally requires persistence, communication, documentation, and sometimes continuing despite rejection or projects that do not progress as expected.
Like most designers, I have also experienced concepts that never reached production, projects that changed completely during development, and opportunities that disappeared after considerable work. At first, these situations can feel like failures. Over time, I learned to treat them as part of the profession. Even an unrealized project can teach you something about design, business, communication, or production.
Another obstacle has been balancing creativity with commercial reality. A designer naturally wants to explore new ideas, while manufacturers and clients must consider cost, market demand, production risk, and timing. Learning to respect both perspectives without losing the original character of a design is an important skill.
Looking back, I think these obstacles were actually necessary. They forced me to become more patient, technically aware, adaptable, and persistent. Design develops not only through successful projects, but also through the problems you encounter and the solutions you learn to find along the way.
I believe designers should present their work in a way that makes the thinking behind the design as clear as the final result.
A strong presentation should not only show beautiful final images. It should explain the problem, the idea, the development process, and the decisions that shaped the project. Sketches, prototypes, material studies, technical details, and manufacturing considerations can often reveal much more about a designer’s abilities than a polished rendering alone.
At the same time, presentation should be selective. Designers do not need to show every step of the process. The goal is to create a clear narrative that helps the viewer understand how the project evolved and why certain decisions were made.
I also think the way a project is presented should reflect the nature of the design itself. A lighting product, for example, should not only be shown as an object. The presentation should communicate the quality of the light, the atmosphere it creates, its scale, its relationship with space, and important construction details.
Consistency is also very important. Typography, image quality, layout, photography, and written explanations should support the work rather than compete with it. A good portfolio should feel considered, but the design itself should always remain the main subject.
Finally, designers should adapt their presentation to the audience. A manufacturer may need to understand production logic and feasibility, while a client may be more interested in the concept, user value, and market potential. A jury or design publication may look for a clear story and a distinctive point of view.
For me, the best presentation creates confidence. It shows not only what the designer created, but also how they think, how deeply they understand the project, and whether they have the ability to turn an idea into a real and resolved product.
A strong presentation should not only show beautiful final images. It should explain the problem, the idea, the development process, and the decisions that shaped the project. Sketches, prototypes, material studies, technical details, and manufacturing considerations can often reveal much more about a designer’s abilities than a polished rendering alone.
At the same time, presentation should be selective. Designers do not need to show every step of the process. The goal is to create a clear narrative that helps the viewer understand how the project evolved and why certain decisions were made.
I also think the way a project is presented should reflect the nature of the design itself. A lighting product, for example, should not only be shown as an object. The presentation should communicate the quality of the light, the atmosphere it creates, its scale, its relationship with space, and important construction details.
Consistency is also very important. Typography, image quality, layout, photography, and written explanations should support the work rather than compete with it. A good portfolio should feel considered, but the design itself should always remain the main subject.
Finally, designers should adapt their presentation to the audience. A manufacturer may need to understand production logic and feasibility, while a client may be more interested in the concept, user value, and market potential. A jury or design publication may look for a clear story and a distinctive point of view.
For me, the best presentation creates confidence. It shows not only what the designer created, but also how they think, how deeply they understand the project, and whether they have the ability to turn an idea into a real and resolved product.
My next projects continue to explore the areas that have become central to my work: lighting, modularity, material experimentation, and the relationship between product design and architecture.
I am currently interested in developing lighting concepts that can move beyond a single object and become adaptable systems. I want to explore products that can change in scale, configuration, application, or material while maintaining a clear and recognizable design identity.
Another direction I am increasingly focused on is closer collaboration with manufacturers from the early stages of development. I believe some of the most interesting design opportunities appear when creative exploration and production knowledge develop together. I would like my future work to continue combining strong visual concepts with realistic construction, assembly, and manufacturing strategies.
I also expect to work more internationally and across disciplines, particularly with lighting manufacturers, architects, interior designers, and product brands. These collaborations allow a product to be considered not only as an isolated object, but as part of a larger spatial and user experience.
Material research will remain an important part of my future work as well. I am interested in exploring new relationships between light and materials, including glass, metal, stone, composites, and translucent or experimental materials, while also considering durability, repairability, and responsible production.
In the longer term, I would like to develop complete lighting collections and systems that can establish a strong identity across different environments and scales.
So I think people can expect my future work to remain rooted in physical product design and lighting, but to become increasingly systemic, collaborative, and connected to architecture. My goal is to continue creating products that are visually distinctive, technically resolved, and meaningful enough to remain relevant beyond their first impression.
I am currently interested in developing lighting concepts that can move beyond a single object and become adaptable systems. I want to explore products that can change in scale, configuration, application, or material while maintaining a clear and recognizable design identity.
Another direction I am increasingly focused on is closer collaboration with manufacturers from the early stages of development. I believe some of the most interesting design opportunities appear when creative exploration and production knowledge develop together. I would like my future work to continue combining strong visual concepts with realistic construction, assembly, and manufacturing strategies.
I also expect to work more internationally and across disciplines, particularly with lighting manufacturers, architects, interior designers, and product brands. These collaborations allow a product to be considered not only as an isolated object, but as part of a larger spatial and user experience.
Material research will remain an important part of my future work as well. I am interested in exploring new relationships between light and materials, including glass, metal, stone, composites, and translucent or experimental materials, while also considering durability, repairability, and responsible production.
In the longer term, I would like to develop complete lighting collections and systems that can establish a strong identity across different environments and scales.
So I think people can expect my future work to remain rooted in physical product design and lighting, but to become increasingly systemic, collaborative, and connected to architecture. My goal is to continue creating products that are visually distinctive, technically resolved, and meaningful enough to remain relevant beyond their first impression.
My ultimate goal as a designer is to create work that remains meaningful beyond a single project, trend, or moment in time.
I would like to build a body of work with a clear and recognizable design language, especially in lighting and physical product design, where creativity, functionality, material understanding, and manufacturability are equally important.
For me, success is not only about creating visually distinctive products or receiving recognition. It is about seeing ideas become real, useful objects that people choose to live with, use, and value over time. I would like my work to contribute to environments in a quiet but meaningful way, through light, atmosphere, function, and material presence.
Another important goal is to work more closely with manufacturers and international collaborators to develop complete product families and lighting systems rather than isolated objects. I am interested in creating designs that can grow, adapt, and remain relevant across different spaces, cultures, and applications.
I also hope to continue sharing what I have learned through teaching, mentoring, and collaboration. Design knowledge becomes more valuable when it is passed forward, and I believe experienced designers have a responsibility to help younger designers understand not only how to create ideas, but also how to develop them into real and responsible products.
Ultimately, I would like to be remembered not simply for individual objects, but for a consistent way of thinking about design: thoughtful, curious, technically grounded, and always connected to the human experience.
I would like to build a body of work with a clear and recognizable design language, especially in lighting and physical product design, where creativity, functionality, material understanding, and manufacturability are equally important.
For me, success is not only about creating visually distinctive products or receiving recognition. It is about seeing ideas become real, useful objects that people choose to live with, use, and value over time. I would like my work to contribute to environments in a quiet but meaningful way, through light, atmosphere, function, and material presence.
Another important goal is to work more closely with manufacturers and international collaborators to develop complete product families and lighting systems rather than isolated objects. I am interested in creating designs that can grow, adapt, and remain relevant across different spaces, cultures, and applications.
I also hope to continue sharing what I have learned through teaching, mentoring, and collaboration. Design knowledge becomes more valuable when it is passed forward, and I believe experienced designers have a responsibility to help younger designers understand not only how to create ideas, but also how to develop them into real and responsible products.
Ultimately, I would like to be remembered not simply for individual objects, but for a consistent way of thinking about design: thoughtful, curious, technically grounded, and always connected to the human experience.
I think people expect an experienced designer to offer more than simply an attractive result. They expect clarity of thinking, responsibility, originality, and the ability to make thoughtful decisions throughout the entire design process.
There is also an expectation that a designer should understand the wider consequences of those decisions, including function, materials, manufacturing, usability, durability, and the experience the product creates for people.
I believe people also expect consistency. A designer should not rely only on one successful project or one recognizable style, but should continue developing, learning, and producing work with a clear level of quality and integrity.
Another important expectation is honesty. Designers should be able to explain the reasons behind their choices, acknowledge limitations, listen to criticism, and collaborate effectively with clients, engineers, manufacturers, and other creative professionals.
For me, experience also brings responsibility toward younger designers. As you develop professionally, I think people naturally expect you to share knowledge, encourage others, and contribute something back to the design community rather than seeing every achievement only as personal success.
Ultimately, I think people expect an established designer to remain curious. Experience should create better judgment, but it should never eliminate experimentation. The challenge is to combine the confidence that comes from experience with the openness of someone who is still willing to question, learn, and discover something new.
There is also an expectation that a designer should understand the wider consequences of those decisions, including function, materials, manufacturing, usability, durability, and the experience the product creates for people.
I believe people also expect consistency. A designer should not rely only on one successful project or one recognizable style, but should continue developing, learning, and producing work with a clear level of quality and integrity.
Another important expectation is honesty. Designers should be able to explain the reasons behind their choices, acknowledge limitations, listen to criticism, and collaborate effectively with clients, engineers, manufacturers, and other creative professionals.
For me, experience also brings responsibility toward younger designers. As you develop professionally, I think people naturally expect you to share knowledge, encourage others, and contribute something back to the design community rather than seeing every achievement only as personal success.
Ultimately, I think people expect an established designer to remain curious. Experience should create better judgment, but it should never eliminate experimentation. The challenge is to combine the confidence that comes from experience with the openness of someone who is still willing to question, learn, and discover something new.
Design can contribute to a better society by improving the quality of everyday life in ways that are sometimes very visible and sometimes almost invisible.
A well-designed product, service, or environment can make daily activities easier, safer, more comfortable, and more inclusive. Good design can reduce confusion, improve accessibility, support independence, and create better experiences for people with very different needs and backgrounds.
Design also has an important role in how resources are used. Decisions about materials, durability, repairability, production, packaging, and energy consumption can have a significant impact over the lifetime of a product. Designers have the opportunity to create objects that last longer, use resources more responsibly, and avoid unnecessary complexity or waste.
Another contribution is the quality of our shared environments. The objects, lighting, furniture, transportation systems, public spaces, and interfaces around us influence how we feel and how we interact with one another. Thoughtful design can make these environments more humane, understandable, and enjoyable.
I also believe design can create cultural value. Objects communicate ideas about how a society sees technology, craft, beauty, function, and progress. Designers can preserve valuable traditions while also finding new ways to respond to contemporary needs.
In my own field of lighting, this becomes very tangible. Light affects comfort, safety, atmosphere, perception, and even the way people connect with a space. A carefully designed lighting solution can transform an environment without demanding attention to itself.
Ultimately, design helps create a better society when it is approached as a responsibility rather than simply as a way to produce more objects. The goal should be to make better decisions about what we create, why we create it, how it is made, and how it will affect people and the environment over time.
A well-designed product, service, or environment can make daily activities easier, safer, more comfortable, and more inclusive. Good design can reduce confusion, improve accessibility, support independence, and create better experiences for people with very different needs and backgrounds.
Design also has an important role in how resources are used. Decisions about materials, durability, repairability, production, packaging, and energy consumption can have a significant impact over the lifetime of a product. Designers have the opportunity to create objects that last longer, use resources more responsibly, and avoid unnecessary complexity or waste.
Another contribution is the quality of our shared environments. The objects, lighting, furniture, transportation systems, public spaces, and interfaces around us influence how we feel and how we interact with one another. Thoughtful design can make these environments more humane, understandable, and enjoyable.
I also believe design can create cultural value. Objects communicate ideas about how a society sees technology, craft, beauty, function, and progress. Designers can preserve valuable traditions while also finding new ways to respond to contemporary needs.
In my own field of lighting, this becomes very tangible. Light affects comfort, safety, atmosphere, perception, and even the way people connect with a space. A carefully designed lighting solution can transform an environment without demanding attention to itself.
Ultimately, design helps create a better society when it is approached as a responsibility rather than simply as a way to produce more objects. The goal should be to make better decisions about what we create, why we create it, how it is made, and how it will affect people and the environment over time.
At the moment, I am especially excited about several lighting projects that explore modularity, adaptability, and the relationship between structure, material, and light.
One of the directions I am developing involves modular lighting systems in which components can be changed, reconfigured, or adapted for different environments. What interests me is not only creating a visually distinctive object, but designing the entire logic behind it: how the structure works, how components connect, how the product is assembled, and how it can evolve without losing its identity.
I am also working on projects where the construction itself becomes an important part of the design language. Instead of hiding every technical element, I am interested in finding ways for structure, joints, materials, and light behavior to contribute naturally to the character of the product.
Another aspect that excites me is working more closely with manufacturing considerations from the beginning. I enjoy the stage where an initial concept has to become technically convincing: choosing materials, solving connections, considering tolerances, developing lighting performance, and finding the balance between visual simplicity and production reality.
These projects are particularly interesting to me because they represent where I want my work to move next. I am increasingly interested in lighting not as a collection of isolated objects, but as adaptable systems that can create different relationships with architecture and space.
For me, the most exciting moment in any project is when a concept stops being only an image or an idea and begins to feel like something that could genuinely exist, be manufactured, and become part of people’s everyday environments.
One of the directions I am developing involves modular lighting systems in which components can be changed, reconfigured, or adapted for different environments. What interests me is not only creating a visually distinctive object, but designing the entire logic behind it: how the structure works, how components connect, how the product is assembled, and how it can evolve without losing its identity.
I am also working on projects where the construction itself becomes an important part of the design language. Instead of hiding every technical element, I am interested in finding ways for structure, joints, materials, and light behavior to contribute naturally to the character of the product.
Another aspect that excites me is working more closely with manufacturing considerations from the beginning. I enjoy the stage where an initial concept has to become technically convincing: choosing materials, solving connections, considering tolerances, developing lighting performance, and finding the balance between visual simplicity and production reality.
These projects are particularly interesting to me because they represent where I want my work to move next. I am increasingly interested in lighting not as a collection of isolated objects, but as adaptable systems that can create different relationships with architecture and space.
For me, the most exciting moment in any project is when a concept stops being only an image or an idea and begins to feel like something that could genuinely exist, be manufactured, and become part of people’s everyday environments.
The projects that have given me the greatest satisfaction are usually the ones where an initial idea was able to survive the entire development process and become something real, resolved, and meaningful.
Lighting projects have been especially important to me because they allow me to work simultaneously with form, material, engineering, atmosphere, and human experience. Collections such as Duk, River, Stone, and Pelk each explored a different relationship between structure and light, and each taught me something new about how a concept can develop into a coherent product family.
I also find great satisfaction in projects where there is close collaboration with manufacturers. When a design moves from sketching and 3D development into prototyping, technical refinement, and production, the process becomes much more demanding, but also much more rewarding. Seeing a product physically produced after many rounds of problem-solving is one of the strongest confirmations that a design has truly been resolved.
Some projects have also been satisfying because of the response they received after completion. Exhibitions, publications, awards, and international presentations are valuable not simply as recognition, but because they allow the work to enter a wider conversation and be experienced by people from different cultural and professional backgrounds.
At the same time, not every satisfying project has to be the most visible one. Sometimes a smaller project can be equally meaningful if it introduces a new material, mechanism, construction method, or way of thinking that later influences other work.
Ultimately, the projects that satisfy me most are those that teach me something, challenge my previous assumptions, and result in a design that feels complete both creatively and technically. For me, that combination of discovery, development, and realization is what makes a project truly rewarding.
Lighting projects have been especially important to me because they allow me to work simultaneously with form, material, engineering, atmosphere, and human experience. Collections such as Duk, River, Stone, and Pelk each explored a different relationship between structure and light, and each taught me something new about how a concept can develop into a coherent product family.
I also find great satisfaction in projects where there is close collaboration with manufacturers. When a design moves from sketching and 3D development into prototyping, technical refinement, and production, the process becomes much more demanding, but also much more rewarding. Seeing a product physically produced after many rounds of problem-solving is one of the strongest confirmations that a design has truly been resolved.
Some projects have also been satisfying because of the response they received after completion. Exhibitions, publications, awards, and international presentations are valuable not simply as recognition, but because they allow the work to enter a wider conversation and be experienced by people from different cultural and professional backgrounds.
At the same time, not every satisfying project has to be the most visible one. Sometimes a smaller project can be equally meaningful if it introduces a new material, mechanism, construction method, or way of thinking that later influences other work.
Ultimately, the projects that satisfy me most are those that teach me something, challenge my previous assumptions, and result in a design that feels complete both creatively and technically. For me, that combination of discovery, development, and realization is what makes a project truly rewarding.
I would like to see the design industry move toward a deeper understanding of what design actually contributes, beyond appearance and short-term market trends.
One important change would be greater involvement of designers in the early stages of product development. Too often, design is still introduced after major technical and commercial decisions have already been made. I believe designers can create much more value when they work from the beginning alongside engineers, manufacturers, researchers, and business teams.
I would also like to see a stronger connection between digital design and physical reality. Today, it is relatively easy to create impressive images, but a convincing rendering is not the same as a resolved product. I hope the industry continues to place greater value on prototyping, material knowledge, engineering, manufacturing, and the ability to transform an idea into something that can genuinely be produced and used.
Sustainability also needs to become more practical and less superficial. Rather than treating sustainability mainly as a marketing message, I would like to see more attention given to durability, repairability, modularity, responsible material choices, local production where appropriate, and products that are designed to remain useful for longer periods of time.
Another change I would welcome is less dependence on short-lived trends. Constant visual novelty can be commercially attractive, but it can also encourage unnecessary consumption. I believe there is great value in designing products with enough quality, flexibility, and identity to remain relevant beyond a single season.
I would also like the industry to create stronger bridges between designers, craftspeople, manufacturers, and emerging technologies. Traditional knowledge and new production methods do not need to compete with one another; some of the most interesting opportunities appear when they are combined.
Ultimately, I hope the design industry becomes more thoughtful about why products are created in the first place. We probably do not need more objects simply for the sake of novelty. We need better-designed products that solve real problems, use resources intelligently, create meaningful experiences, and deserve to exist for a long time.
One important change would be greater involvement of designers in the early stages of product development. Too often, design is still introduced after major technical and commercial decisions have already been made. I believe designers can create much more value when they work from the beginning alongside engineers, manufacturers, researchers, and business teams.
I would also like to see a stronger connection between digital design and physical reality. Today, it is relatively easy to create impressive images, but a convincing rendering is not the same as a resolved product. I hope the industry continues to place greater value on prototyping, material knowledge, engineering, manufacturing, and the ability to transform an idea into something that can genuinely be produced and used.
Sustainability also needs to become more practical and less superficial. Rather than treating sustainability mainly as a marketing message, I would like to see more attention given to durability, repairability, modularity, responsible material choices, local production where appropriate, and products that are designed to remain useful for longer periods of time.
Another change I would welcome is less dependence on short-lived trends. Constant visual novelty can be commercially attractive, but it can also encourage unnecessary consumption. I believe there is great value in designing products with enough quality, flexibility, and identity to remain relevant beyond a single season.
I would also like the industry to create stronger bridges between designers, craftspeople, manufacturers, and emerging technologies. Traditional knowledge and new production methods do not need to compete with one another; some of the most interesting opportunities appear when they are combined.
Ultimately, I hope the design industry becomes more thoughtful about why products are created in the first place. We probably do not need more objects simply for the sake of novelty. We need better-designed products that solve real problems, use resources intelligently, create meaningful experiences, and deserve to exist for a long time.
I believe the design field is moving toward a much closer integration of physical products, digital tools, intelligent systems, and advanced manufacturing.
Artificial intelligence and computational design will increasingly become part of the designer’s everyday toolkit. I do not think these technologies will replace the need for designers, but they will change where designers create value. Generating alternatives will become faster, which means judgment, direction, critical thinking, and the ability to recognize what is meaningful will become even more important.
I also expect products to become more adaptable and customizable. Rather than designing one fixed object for everyone, designers will increasingly work with systems that can respond to different users, environments, scales, and behaviors. This is particularly interesting in lighting, where products can potentially respond to space, time, atmosphere, and individual needs.
Advances in manufacturing will also continue to influence design. Digital fabrication, additive manufacturing, new composites, improved material technologies, and more flexible production methods will allow designers to explore forms and structures that were previously difficult or uneconomical to produce.
At the same time, I believe sustainability will gradually move from being a separate design consideration to becoming a fundamental part of product development. Durability, disassembly, repair, reuse, material recovery, and adaptability will increasingly need to be considered from the beginning rather than added later.
Another major direction will be greater collaboration across disciplines. The boundaries between industrial design, architecture, engineering, interaction design, material science, and technology are already becoming less rigid. Future designers will need to communicate across these fields while still maintaining a clear creative point of view.
Despite all these technological developments, I believe the human side of design will become even more important. As tools become more powerful and production becomes more automated, sensitivity to culture, emotion, proportion, materiality, and human behavior will remain difficult to automate.
So I see the future of design as both more technological and more human. The tools will change dramatically, but the essential responsibility of the designer will remain the same: to make thoughtful decisions about what should be created, how it should work, and why it deserves to exist.
Artificial intelligence and computational design will increasingly become part of the designer’s everyday toolkit. I do not think these technologies will replace the need for designers, but they will change where designers create value. Generating alternatives will become faster, which means judgment, direction, critical thinking, and the ability to recognize what is meaningful will become even more important.
I also expect products to become more adaptable and customizable. Rather than designing one fixed object for everyone, designers will increasingly work with systems that can respond to different users, environments, scales, and behaviors. This is particularly interesting in lighting, where products can potentially respond to space, time, atmosphere, and individual needs.
Advances in manufacturing will also continue to influence design. Digital fabrication, additive manufacturing, new composites, improved material technologies, and more flexible production methods will allow designers to explore forms and structures that were previously difficult or uneconomical to produce.
At the same time, I believe sustainability will gradually move from being a separate design consideration to becoming a fundamental part of product development. Durability, disassembly, repair, reuse, material recovery, and adaptability will increasingly need to be considered from the beginning rather than added later.
Another major direction will be greater collaboration across disciplines. The boundaries between industrial design, architecture, engineering, interaction design, material science, and technology are already becoming less rigid. Future designers will need to communicate across these fields while still maintaining a clear creative point of view.
Despite all these technological developments, I believe the human side of design will become even more important. As tools become more powerful and production becomes more automated, sensitivity to culture, emotion, proportion, materiality, and human behavior will remain difficult to automate.
So I see the future of design as both more technological and more human. The tools will change dramatically, but the essential responsibility of the designer will remain the same: to make thoughtful decisions about what should be created, how it should work, and why it deserves to exist.
The time required to finalize a design project depends greatly on its complexity, the level of development required, and how many people are involved in the process.
A relatively simple product concept can sometimes reach a strong design direction within a few weeks, especially when the brief is clear and the technical requirements are already defined. More complex projects, particularly lighting systems or products that require custom components, prototyping, engineering coordination, or new manufacturing solutions, can take several months or longer.
For me, the process usually develops through several stages: research and understanding the brief, concept development, sketching, 3D modeling, material and construction studies, technical refinement, prototyping, testing, and final production preparation. Each stage can reveal new information that requires earlier decisions to be reconsidered.
I try not to finalize a design simply because a deadline has arrived. A project feels complete when the main decisions support each other and there are no major unresolved conflicts between form, function, structure, material, light behavior, and manufacturing.
At the same time, I believe designers need to understand when to stop. Endless refinement does not always improve a project. At some point, further changes can simply become different choices rather than better ones.
So I would say that good design requires both patience and discipline: enough time to explore and test properly, but also enough judgment to recognize when the design has reached the point where it is ready to move forward.
A relatively simple product concept can sometimes reach a strong design direction within a few weeks, especially when the brief is clear and the technical requirements are already defined. More complex projects, particularly lighting systems or products that require custom components, prototyping, engineering coordination, or new manufacturing solutions, can take several months or longer.
For me, the process usually develops through several stages: research and understanding the brief, concept development, sketching, 3D modeling, material and construction studies, technical refinement, prototyping, testing, and final production preparation. Each stage can reveal new information that requires earlier decisions to be reconsidered.
I try not to finalize a design simply because a deadline has arrived. A project feels complete when the main decisions support each other and there are no major unresolved conflicts between form, function, structure, material, light behavior, and manufacturing.
At the same time, I believe designers need to understand when to stop. Endless refinement does not always improve a project. At some point, further changes can simply become different choices rather than better ones.
So I would say that good design requires both patience and discipline: enough time to explore and test properly, but also enough judgment to recognize when the design has reached the point where it is ready to move forward.
When I begin a new design project, I usually start by trying to understand the problem as clearly as possible before thinking about the final form.
I look at the brief, the user, the context, the technical requirements, the manufacturing limitations, the materials, the expected price level, and the way the product will actually be used. I also try to identify which parts of the brief are truly essential and which assumptions can be questioned.
Research is important at this stage, but I try not to use it only to collect references. I want to understand the existing solutions, where they succeed, where they fail, and whether there is an opportunity to approach the problem differently.
After that, I usually begin sketching very quickly. Sketching helps me think without becoming too attached to details. I explore different structures, proportions, mechanisms, and visual directions before moving into 3D development.
For lighting projects, I also think about the light itself from the beginning: where the source is located, how the light is distributed, whether there is glare, how shadows behave, and how the product will influence the surrounding space.
Once a promising direction appears, I begin testing it through 3D modeling, prototypes, material studies, and discussions with manufacturers or engineers when necessary. This is usually where the concept begins to change and become more realistic.
So I would say my process starts with questions rather than answers. I try to understand why the product needs to exist, what it should achieve, and what constraints can actually become opportunities for the design.
I look at the brief, the user, the context, the technical requirements, the manufacturing limitations, the materials, the expected price level, and the way the product will actually be used. I also try to identify which parts of the brief are truly essential and which assumptions can be questioned.
Research is important at this stage, but I try not to use it only to collect references. I want to understand the existing solutions, where they succeed, where they fail, and whether there is an opportunity to approach the problem differently.
After that, I usually begin sketching very quickly. Sketching helps me think without becoming too attached to details. I explore different structures, proportions, mechanisms, and visual directions before moving into 3D development.
For lighting projects, I also think about the light itself from the beginning: where the source is located, how the light is distributed, whether there is glare, how shadows behave, and how the product will influence the surrounding space.
Once a promising direction appears, I begin testing it through 3D modeling, prototypes, material studies, and discussions with manufacturers or engineers when necessary. This is usually where the concept begins to change and become more realistic.
So I would say my process starts with questions rather than answers. I try to understand why the product needs to exist, what it should achieve, and what constraints can actually become opportunities for the design.
My motto as a designer is: “Stay curious, question everything, and make ideas real.”
Curiosity keeps me open to new materials, technologies, cultures, and ways of thinking. Questioning helps me avoid accepting the first or most obvious solution, and making ideas real reminds me that design should eventually move beyond sketches and images into something that can be built, used, and experienced.
For me, these three ideas represent the balance I always try to maintain between creativity, critical thinking, and practical realization.
Curiosity keeps me open to new materials, technologies, cultures, and ways of thinking. Questioning helps me avoid accepting the first or most obvious solution, and making ideas real reminds me that design should eventually move beyond sketches and images into something that can be built, used, and experienced.
For me, these three ideas represent the balance I always try to maintain between creativity, critical thinking, and practical realization.
I think the relationship works in both directions. Design can create trends, but trends can also influence the way designers think, communicate, and respond to changing lifestyles, technologies, and cultural expectations.
The important question is how much influence trends should have on the design process. I do not believe a strong design should begin with the goal of simply following what is currently popular. Trends can be useful signals because they reflect changes in society, behavior, technology, materials, and taste, but they should not become the main reason for a design decision.
Some of the most influential designs actually created their own direction because they introduced a new way of solving a problem, using a material, or interacting with a product. In those cases, design did not follow the trend; it helped create one.
At the same time, designers cannot completely ignore the world around them. We work within a cultural and technological context, and understanding contemporary changes is part of understanding the user.
Personally, I prefer to observe trends rather than follow them. I try to understand why something is becoming relevant and whether there is a deeper change behind it that deserves attention.
Ultimately, I believe the strongest designs are not those that look fashionable for a short period, but those that respond intelligently to their time while maintaining enough clarity and integrity to remain relevant after the trend has passed.
The important question is how much influence trends should have on the design process. I do not believe a strong design should begin with the goal of simply following what is currently popular. Trends can be useful signals because they reflect changes in society, behavior, technology, materials, and taste, but they should not become the main reason for a design decision.
Some of the most influential designs actually created their own direction because they introduced a new way of solving a problem, using a material, or interacting with a product. In those cases, design did not follow the trend; it helped create one.
At the same time, designers cannot completely ignore the world around them. We work within a cultural and technological context, and understanding contemporary changes is part of understanding the user.
Personally, I prefer to observe trends rather than follow them. I try to understand why something is becoming relevant and whether there is a deeper change behind it that deserves attention.
Ultimately, I believe the strongest designs are not those that look fashionable for a short period, but those that respond intelligently to their time while maintaining enough clarity and integrity to remain relevant after the trend has passed.
Technology plays an important role in my design process, but I see it as a tool rather than as the starting point of a project.
For me, the design idea should come from understanding the problem, the user, the context, and the purpose of the product. Technology then helps me explore, test, refine, and communicate that idea more effectively.
Digital tools are extremely valuable during development. I use 3D modeling to study proportions, construction, assemblies, and technical details, and rendering tools to evaluate materials, light behavior, and the relationship between the product and its environment before physical prototypes are produced.
In lighting design, technology becomes even more important because the performance of the light source, optics, heat management, control systems, and manufacturing methods can directly influence the form of the product. I prefer to consider these technical elements from the beginning rather than trying to integrate them after the visual design is finished.
At the same time, I believe technology should never replace physical understanding. Prototypes, material samples, and direct experimentation remain essential because there are qualities such as weight, texture, scale, balance, and light behavior that cannot be fully understood through a screen.
New technologies, including artificial intelligence, computational tools, digital fabrication, and advanced manufacturing, are creating exciting opportunities for designers. They can accelerate exploration and help us examine many possibilities, but they also make human judgment more important. A tool can generate options, but the designer still needs to decide which solution is meaningful, appropriate, and worth developing.
Ultimately, I see technology as an extension of the designer’s capabilities. The best result happens when technology supports creativity and helps transform an idea into a better, more precise, and more manufacturable product, rather than becoming the purpose of the design itself.
For me, the design idea should come from understanding the problem, the user, the context, and the purpose of the product. Technology then helps me explore, test, refine, and communicate that idea more effectively.
Digital tools are extremely valuable during development. I use 3D modeling to study proportions, construction, assemblies, and technical details, and rendering tools to evaluate materials, light behavior, and the relationship between the product and its environment before physical prototypes are produced.
In lighting design, technology becomes even more important because the performance of the light source, optics, heat management, control systems, and manufacturing methods can directly influence the form of the product. I prefer to consider these technical elements from the beginning rather than trying to integrate them after the visual design is finished.
At the same time, I believe technology should never replace physical understanding. Prototypes, material samples, and direct experimentation remain essential because there are qualities such as weight, texture, scale, balance, and light behavior that cannot be fully understood through a screen.
New technologies, including artificial intelligence, computational tools, digital fabrication, and advanced manufacturing, are creating exciting opportunities for designers. They can accelerate exploration and help us examine many possibilities, but they also make human judgment more important. A tool can generate options, but the designer still needs to decide which solution is meaningful, appropriate, and worth developing.
Ultimately, I see technology as an extension of the designer’s capabilities. The best result happens when technology supports creativity and helps transform an idea into a better, more precise, and more manufacturable product, rather than becoming the purpose of the design itself.
In my work, I primarily use SolidWorks for 3D modeling and product development, and KeyShot for rendering and visualization.
SolidWorks is an important part of my process because it allows me to develop concepts into technically detailed models, study construction and assembly, and prepare designs with manufacturing requirements in mind. I use it not only for creating form, but also for understanding how components fit together and how the product can realistically be produced.
KeyShot is mainly used to explore materials, finishes, lighting conditions, and to communicate the final design clearly. In lighting projects, visualization is especially important because I need to evaluate not only the physical object, but also how light interacts with materials, surfaces, and the surrounding environment.
Before moving into digital modeling, I still rely heavily on hand sketching. Sketching allows me to explore ideas quickly and freely without becoming too focused on technical details too early in the process.
Depending on the project, I also use physical mock-ups, prototypes, material samples, and basic model-making techniques. These are particularly useful for evaluating scale, proportions, joints, materials, and lighting effects that cannot always be understood accurately through digital models alone.
For me, the most important thing is not the software itself, but choosing the right tool for each stage of the process. Sketching, CAD, rendering, and physical prototyping each provide a different type of information, and together they help move a project from an initial idea toward a realistic and manufacturable product.
SolidWorks is an important part of my process because it allows me to develop concepts into technically detailed models, study construction and assembly, and prepare designs with manufacturing requirements in mind. I use it not only for creating form, but also for understanding how components fit together and how the product can realistically be produced.
KeyShot is mainly used to explore materials, finishes, lighting conditions, and to communicate the final design clearly. In lighting projects, visualization is especially important because I need to evaluate not only the physical object, but also how light interacts with materials, surfaces, and the surrounding environment.
Before moving into digital modeling, I still rely heavily on hand sketching. Sketching allows me to explore ideas quickly and freely without becoming too focused on technical details too early in the process.
Depending on the project, I also use physical mock-ups, prototypes, material samples, and basic model-making techniques. These are particularly useful for evaluating scale, proportions, joints, materials, and lighting effects that cannot always be understood accurately through digital models alone.
For me, the most important thing is not the software itself, but choosing the right tool for each stage of the process. Sketching, CAD, rendering, and physical prototyping each provide a different type of information, and together they help move a project from an initial idea toward a realistic and manufacturable product.
Color, materials, and the surrounding environment are fundamental parts of design because they strongly influence how a product is perceived, used, and experienced.
Material is especially important to me because it affects much more than appearance. It influences structure, weight, durability, manufacturing method, texture, temperature, cost, and even the emotional character of a product. I prefer to consider material early in the design process rather than applying it after the form has already been decided.
Color works in a similar way. It can create contrast, hierarchy, identity, or emotional response, but it should support the purpose and character of the product rather than simply follow fashion. Sometimes the right decision is to use color strongly, while in other projects restraint allows the material and form to communicate more clearly.
The surrounding environment is equally important because products do not exist in isolation. Their scale, proportion, surface, and visual presence change depending on the architecture, furniture, light conditions, and colors around them.
In lighting design, these relationships become even more critical. The same light source can create completely different effects depending on whether it interacts with metal, glass, stone, wood, or a translucent surface. The color and texture of the surrounding space also influence reflection, shadow, warmth, and atmosphere.
For this reason, I try to design the object and its environment as part of the same experience. A successful product should have its own identity, but it should also understand the context in which it will live.
Ultimately, I see color, material, and environment as active design tools. When they are considered together from the beginning, they can transform a functional object into a much richer and more meaningful experience.
Material is especially important to me because it affects much more than appearance. It influences structure, weight, durability, manufacturing method, texture, temperature, cost, and even the emotional character of a product. I prefer to consider material early in the design process rather than applying it after the form has already been decided.
Color works in a similar way. It can create contrast, hierarchy, identity, or emotional response, but it should support the purpose and character of the product rather than simply follow fashion. Sometimes the right decision is to use color strongly, while in other projects restraint allows the material and form to communicate more clearly.
The surrounding environment is equally important because products do not exist in isolation. Their scale, proportion, surface, and visual presence change depending on the architecture, furniture, light conditions, and colors around them.
In lighting design, these relationships become even more critical. The same light source can create completely different effects depending on whether it interacts with metal, glass, stone, wood, or a translucent surface. The color and texture of the surrounding space also influence reflection, shadow, warmth, and atmosphere.
For this reason, I try to design the object and its environment as part of the same experience. A successful product should have its own identity, but it should also understand the context in which it will live.
Ultimately, I see color, material, and environment as active design tools. When they are considered together from the beginning, they can transform a functional object into a much richer and more meaningful experience.
I would like people to ask, “Why is this design the way it is?”
For me, that question opens the most interesting conversation because it goes beyond appearance and leads to the thinking behind the product: the problem it responds to, the choices that shaped it, the material decisions, the construction logic, the relationship with the user, and the way it is intended to be manufactured and experienced.
In lighting design, I would also like people to ask about the light itself: why it is directed in a certain way, how the material affects the atmosphere, how shadows are created, and how the object changes when it is turned on or off.
I am always interested when people notice details that are not immediately obvious, such as a joint, a proportion, a hidden technical solution, or the reason a particular material was chosen. These questions show that the viewer is engaging with the design beyond its first visual impression.
Ultimately, I would like my work to create enough curiosity that people want to understand not only what they are looking at, but also the decisions and ideas that made the design possible.
For me, that question opens the most interesting conversation because it goes beyond appearance and leads to the thinking behind the product: the problem it responds to, the choices that shaped it, the material decisions, the construction logic, the relationship with the user, and the way it is intended to be manufactured and experienced.
In lighting design, I would also like people to ask about the light itself: why it is directed in a certain way, how the material affects the atmosphere, how shadows are created, and how the object changes when it is turned on or off.
I am always interested when people notice details that are not immediately obvious, such as a joint, a proportion, a hidden technical solution, or the reason a particular material was chosen. These questions show that the viewer is engaging with the design beyond its first visual impression.
Ultimately, I would like my work to create enough curiosity that people want to understand not only what they are looking at, but also the decisions and ideas that made the design possible.
When I see a great new design, my first reaction is usually curiosity. I want to understand why it works so well and what decisions made it successful.
I naturally begin to look beyond the first visual impression. I think about the proportions, materials, construction, manufacturing process, details, user interaction, and the logic behind the form. I often ask myself whether the design could have been simpler, whether every element is necessary, and what particular decision gives the product its identity.
I am also interested in the relationship between creativity and feasibility. A design becomes much more impressive to me when it is not only visually strong, but also intelligently engineered and realistically manufacturable.
With lighting products, I pay particular attention to how the designer has treated the light itself: the distribution, reflections, shadows, glare, atmosphere, and the relationship between the illuminated and non-illuminated states of the object.
A really good design also makes me want to learn from it. Not by copying its form, but by understanding the thinking behind it. Sometimes a single detail, material solution, or construction method can open an entirely new direction of thought.
For me, the best designs create two reactions at the same time: appreciation and questions. They make you enjoy the result, but they also make you curious about how and why it became that way.
I naturally begin to look beyond the first visual impression. I think about the proportions, materials, construction, manufacturing process, details, user interaction, and the logic behind the form. I often ask myself whether the design could have been simpler, whether every element is necessary, and what particular decision gives the product its identity.
I am also interested in the relationship between creativity and feasibility. A design becomes much more impressive to me when it is not only visually strong, but also intelligently engineered and realistically manufacturable.
With lighting products, I pay particular attention to how the designer has treated the light itself: the distribution, reflections, shadows, glare, atmosphere, and the relationship between the illuminated and non-illuminated states of the object.
A really good design also makes me want to learn from it. Not by copying its form, but by understanding the thinking behind it. Sometimes a single detail, material solution, or construction method can open an entirely new direction of thought.
For me, the best designs create two reactions at the same time: appreciation and questions. They make you enjoy the result, but they also make you curious about how and why it became that way.
Yes, I strongly believe in co-design. Some of the best design outcomes come from collaboration between people with different skills, perspectives, and areas of expertise.
My ideal design partner is someone who is curious, open-minded, technically knowledgeable, and confident enough to challenge an idea rather than simply agree with it. I value collaborators who can look at the same problem from a different perspective and help reveal possibilities that I may not have considered.
I also believe that successful collaboration requires mutual respect. Each person should bring something meaningful to the process, whether it is design thinking, engineering, manufacturing knowledge, material expertise, architecture, craftsmanship, or understanding of the user and market.
For me, co-design works best when the responsibilities are clear but the thinking remains open. I do not believe every decision needs to be made by committee. There should still be a clear design direction, but that direction can become much stronger when it is tested and developed through constructive discussion.
I particularly enjoy collaborating with manufacturers and engineers because they bring practical knowledge that can transform a concept. A production constraint, material limitation, or technical challenge can often lead to a more intelligent and distinctive design solution.
The same is true when working with architects, interior designers, or other product designers. Different disciplines see different aspects of the same problem, and that can create richer results.
Ultimately, my ideal design partner is someone who shares the goal of making the project better rather than protecting individual ownership of every idea. I believe strong collaboration is not about proving whose idea was right; it is about developing a result that none of the participants could have achieved alone.
My ideal design partner is someone who is curious, open-minded, technically knowledgeable, and confident enough to challenge an idea rather than simply agree with it. I value collaborators who can look at the same problem from a different perspective and help reveal possibilities that I may not have considered.
I also believe that successful collaboration requires mutual respect. Each person should bring something meaningful to the process, whether it is design thinking, engineering, manufacturing knowledge, material expertise, architecture, craftsmanship, or understanding of the user and market.
For me, co-design works best when the responsibilities are clear but the thinking remains open. I do not believe every decision needs to be made by committee. There should still be a clear design direction, but that direction can become much stronger when it is tested and developed through constructive discussion.
I particularly enjoy collaborating with manufacturers and engineers because they bring practical knowledge that can transform a concept. A production constraint, material limitation, or technical challenge can often lead to a more intelligent and distinctive design solution.
The same is true when working with architects, interior designers, or other product designers. Different disciplines see different aspects of the same problem, and that can create richer results.
Ultimately, my ideal design partner is someone who shares the goal of making the project better rather than protecting individual ownership of every idea. I believe strong collaboration is not about proving whose idea was right; it is about developing a result that none of the participants could have achieved alone.
The people who have influenced my design thinking the most are not limited to designers. My teachers, manufacturers, engineers, craftspeople, collaborators, clients, and even students have all influenced the way I approach design.
During my education, my professors helped me build the foundation for understanding design as a process of research, questioning, and problem-solving rather than simply creating attractive forms. That academic foundation was important, but professional experience gradually changed and expanded the way I think.
Some of the strongest influences have come from working directly with manufacturers and production teams. They taught me to think much more carefully about materials, construction, tolerances, assembly, cost, durability, and the realities of manufacturing. These interactions helped me understand that production knowledge is not separate from creativity; it can actually generate better design ideas.
Engineers and technical collaborators have also been important because they often challenge a concept from a completely different perspective. A technical limitation can sometimes reveal a weakness in the design, but it can also lead to a more elegant and intelligent solution.
Clients have influenced me as well. Working with different clients has taught me how to listen more carefully, understand priorities, communicate ideas clearly, and balance creative ambition with commercial and practical requirements.
Teaching has also had a surprisingly strong influence on my own development. Students often ask very simple but fundamental questions, and explaining why a design decision makes sense forces you to examine your own assumptions. Teaching made me more conscious of my process and more critical of my own work.
International collaborations and interactions with designers from different cultural backgrounds have also broadened my perspective. They reminded me that design can be understood differently depending on culture, market, manufacturing traditions, and lifestyle.
So I would say that my design thinking has been shaped by many different people rather than one individual. The most valuable influence usually comes from people who challenge the way I think, introduce knowledge I do not have, and help me see the same problem from another point of view.
During my education, my professors helped me build the foundation for understanding design as a process of research, questioning, and problem-solving rather than simply creating attractive forms. That academic foundation was important, but professional experience gradually changed and expanded the way I think.
Some of the strongest influences have come from working directly with manufacturers and production teams. They taught me to think much more carefully about materials, construction, tolerances, assembly, cost, durability, and the realities of manufacturing. These interactions helped me understand that production knowledge is not separate from creativity; it can actually generate better design ideas.
Engineers and technical collaborators have also been important because they often challenge a concept from a completely different perspective. A technical limitation can sometimes reveal a weakness in the design, but it can also lead to a more elegant and intelligent solution.
Clients have influenced me as well. Working with different clients has taught me how to listen more carefully, understand priorities, communicate ideas clearly, and balance creative ambition with commercial and practical requirements.
Teaching has also had a surprisingly strong influence on my own development. Students often ask very simple but fundamental questions, and explaining why a design decision makes sense forces you to examine your own assumptions. Teaching made me more conscious of my process and more critical of my own work.
International collaborations and interactions with designers from different cultural backgrounds have also broadened my perspective. They reminded me that design can be understood differently depending on culture, market, manufacturing traditions, and lifestyle.
So I would say that my design thinking has been shaped by many different people rather than one individual. The most valuable influence usually comes from people who challenge the way I think, introduce knowledge I do not have, and help me see the same problem from another point of view.
I would not say that one single book has defined my approach to design. My thinking has developed through a combination of design literature, design history, architecture, manufacturing knowledge, and, perhaps most importantly, direct professional experience.
I have always been particularly interested in books and writings that explain the thinking behind objects rather than simply presenting finished products. I enjoy understanding why a designer made a particular decision, how materials and production influenced the result, and how a product relates to the cultural and technological conditions of its time.
Books about the history of modern industrial design and the Bauhaus tradition have also influenced the way I think about clarity, function, proportion, and the relationship between design and industrial production. At the same time, studying the work and philosophy of designers such as Dieter Rams, Achille Castiglioni, Wilhelm Wagenfeld, and Poul Henningsen has helped me understand very different approaches to simplicity, experimentation, functionality, and light.
I am also interested in reading about architecture, materials, manufacturing processes, and technology because I do not see industrial design as an isolated discipline. Often, ideas that influence my work come from outside conventional product design.
However, I believe books become truly valuable when their ideas are tested through practice. Designing, prototyping, working with manufacturers, teaching, and observing how people actually interact with products have taught me just as much as reading.
For me, the most useful books are therefore not necessarily those that provide answers, but those that change the questions I ask when I begin a new project.
I have always been particularly interested in books and writings that explain the thinking behind objects rather than simply presenting finished products. I enjoy understanding why a designer made a particular decision, how materials and production influenced the result, and how a product relates to the cultural and technological conditions of its time.
Books about the history of modern industrial design and the Bauhaus tradition have also influenced the way I think about clarity, function, proportion, and the relationship between design and industrial production. At the same time, studying the work and philosophy of designers such as Dieter Rams, Achille Castiglioni, Wilhelm Wagenfeld, and Poul Henningsen has helped me understand very different approaches to simplicity, experimentation, functionality, and light.
I am also interested in reading about architecture, materials, manufacturing processes, and technology because I do not see industrial design as an isolated discipline. Often, ideas that influence my work come from outside conventional product design.
However, I believe books become truly valuable when their ideas are tested through practice. Designing, prototyping, working with manufacturers, teaching, and observing how people actually interact with products have taught me just as much as reading.
For me, the most useful books are therefore not necessarily those that provide answers, but those that change the questions I ask when I begin a new project.
I have developed my skills gradually through education, continuous practice, professional experience, and a willingness to keep learning from every project.
My academic background in industrial design gave me a strong foundation in design methodology, form development, materials, ergonomics, model making, and product development. However, I believe many of the most important skills are developed after education, when ideas have to face the realities of clients, manufacturing, budgets, deadlines, and production.
Working closely with manufacturers has been especially important in my development. It taught me to think beyond the visual appearance of a product and understand construction, assembly, tolerances, materials, durability, and production methods. Over time, this changed the way I approached design and made manufacturability part of my creative process from the beginning.
I also developed my skills through constant sketching, 3D modeling, rendering, prototyping, and testing. Moving repeatedly between these different tools helped me understand when an idea was only visually attractive and when it was truly resolved.
Teaching industrial design also contributed significantly to my growth. Explaining design principles and reviewing the work of students forced me to examine my own decisions more carefully. Teaching reminded me that design knowledge becomes stronger when you are able to explain the reasons behind your choices.
International exhibitions, collaborations, competitions, and publications also exposed my work to different perspectives and standards. These experiences helped me improve not only the work itself, but also the way I communicate and present design.
Most importantly, I have tried to remain curious and open to criticism. I do not believe design skills reach a final level. They continue to evolve through every successful project, every mistake, every technical challenge, and every collaboration.
So rather than seeing myself as someone who has completed the process of becoming a master designer, I see myself as a designer who has built skills through years of practice and who still has a great deal to learn.
My academic background in industrial design gave me a strong foundation in design methodology, form development, materials, ergonomics, model making, and product development. However, I believe many of the most important skills are developed after education, when ideas have to face the realities of clients, manufacturing, budgets, deadlines, and production.
Working closely with manufacturers has been especially important in my development. It taught me to think beyond the visual appearance of a product and understand construction, assembly, tolerances, materials, durability, and production methods. Over time, this changed the way I approached design and made manufacturability part of my creative process from the beginning.
I also developed my skills through constant sketching, 3D modeling, rendering, prototyping, and testing. Moving repeatedly between these different tools helped me understand when an idea was only visually attractive and when it was truly resolved.
Teaching industrial design also contributed significantly to my growth. Explaining design principles and reviewing the work of students forced me to examine my own decisions more carefully. Teaching reminded me that design knowledge becomes stronger when you are able to explain the reasons behind your choices.
International exhibitions, collaborations, competitions, and publications also exposed my work to different perspectives and standards. These experiences helped me improve not only the work itself, but also the way I communicate and present design.
Most importantly, I have tried to remain curious and open to criticism. I do not believe design skills reach a final level. They continue to evolve through every successful project, every mistake, every technical challenge, and every collaboration.
So rather than seeing myself as someone who has completed the process of becoming a master designer, I see myself as a designer who has built skills through years of practice and who still has a great deal to learn.
If time and space were irrelevant, one of the designers I would most like to meet would be Achille Castiglioni.
I would be fascinated to sit with him and discuss how he observed everyday objects and situations and transformed very simple observations into such intelligent and memorable designs. What I admire about his work is that it often appears effortless, but behind that simplicity there is a great deal of thought, experimentation, technical understanding, and sometimes humor.
I would particularly want to ask him about the moment when he knew an idea was resolved. How did he decide when an object needed another element and when something should be removed? I would also be interested in how he balanced intuition with the realities of manufacturing, because this relationship between creative freedom and production is very important in my own work.
I would also like to meet Poul Henningsen and discuss light itself as a design material. His understanding of glare, reflection, shadow, and atmosphere fundamentally changed the way lighting products could be conceived. I would be interested not only in his technical thinking, but also in how he believed artificial light should affect the way people experience architecture and everyday life.
More than asking either of them about the forms they created, I would want to understand their decision-making process: what they observed, what they rejected, what they questioned, and how they recognized when an idea was strong enough to become a real product.
For me, that would be the most valuable conversation with any great designer. I would be less interested in asking what they designed and much more interested in understanding how they learned to see.
I would be fascinated to sit with him and discuss how he observed everyday objects and situations and transformed very simple observations into such intelligent and memorable designs. What I admire about his work is that it often appears effortless, but behind that simplicity there is a great deal of thought, experimentation, technical understanding, and sometimes humor.
I would particularly want to ask him about the moment when he knew an idea was resolved. How did he decide when an object needed another element and when something should be removed? I would also be interested in how he balanced intuition with the realities of manufacturing, because this relationship between creative freedom and production is very important in my own work.
I would also like to meet Poul Henningsen and discuss light itself as a design material. His understanding of glare, reflection, shadow, and atmosphere fundamentally changed the way lighting products could be conceived. I would be interested not only in his technical thinking, but also in how he believed artificial light should affect the way people experience architecture and everyday life.
More than asking either of them about the forms they created, I would want to understand their decision-making process: what they observed, what they rejected, what they questioned, and how they recognized when an idea was strong enough to become a real product.
For me, that would be the most valuable conversation with any great designer. I would be less interested in asking what they designed and much more interested in understanding how they learned to see.
I am genuinely grateful for the awards, exhibitions, publications, and recognition my work has received. They are meaningful because they show that a project has connected with people beyond its original context, and they can create opportunities for new collaborations, conversations, and professional growth.
At the same time, I do not consider myself famous. I see myself primarily as a working designer who is still developing, learning, and trying to make each project better than the previous one.
Recognition can be encouraging, but I do not think it should become the main purpose of design. Awards are valuable when they bring visibility to good work, but they are still only one part of a much longer professional journey. The real satisfaction comes from creating something that is meaningful, well resolved, and capable of becoming part of people’s lives.
Recognition also creates a certain responsibility. Once people begin to follow your work or associate your name with a particular level of quality, there is an expectation that you continue to grow rather than simply repeat what has already been successful.
I also try to remember that design is a collaborative field. Behind many successful projects there are manufacturers, engineers, craftspeople, clients, photographers, organizers, and many others who contribute to the final result.
So I appreciate recognition, but I try not to let it change the way I approach the work. Curiosity, discipline, and the desire to keep improving are much more important to me than the idea of being famous.
At the same time, I do not consider myself famous. I see myself primarily as a working designer who is still developing, learning, and trying to make each project better than the previous one.
Recognition can be encouraging, but I do not think it should become the main purpose of design. Awards are valuable when they bring visibility to good work, but they are still only one part of a much longer professional journey. The real satisfaction comes from creating something that is meaningful, well resolved, and capable of becoming part of people’s lives.
Recognition also creates a certain responsibility. Once people begin to follow your work or associate your name with a particular level of quality, there is an expectation that you continue to grow rather than simply repeat what has already been successful.
I also try to remember that design is a collaborative field. Behind many successful projects there are manufacturers, engineers, craftspeople, clients, photographers, organizers, and many others who contribute to the final result.
So I appreciate recognition, but I try not to let it change the way I approach the work. Curiosity, discipline, and the desire to keep improving are much more important to me than the idea of being famous.
I do not usually have one absolute favorite in each category, because my preferences change with experience, travel, and context.
In terms of color, I am often attracted to natural and material-driven tones, especially colors that allow the character of metal, wood, glass, stone, or other materials to remain visible rather than covering them completely.
For places, I am naturally drawn to cities where design, architecture, craftsmanship, and everyday life are closely connected. I particularly enjoy places where you can discover both contemporary design and traces of history simply by walking through the city.
With food, I usually appreciate simple, well-prepared dishes where the quality of the ingredients is more important than unnecessary complexity.
My favorite seasons are spring and autumn. I enjoy the changing light, temperature, colors, and atmosphere during these periods. Perhaps as a lighting designer, I naturally notice how strongly the character of light changes throughout the year.
My favorite “things” are probably objects that reveal intelligence in their details: a well-designed chair, lamp, watch, tool, mechanism, or even a very ordinary object that has been resolved with exceptional care.
When it comes to brands, I am more interested in the philosophy behind a brand than the name itself. I admire brands that maintain a clear identity over time, invest seriously in design and manufacturing, and work with designers to create products with lasting value rather than simply following trends.
In general, I think my favorites tend to have one thing in common: simplicity with character. I am attracted to things that do not need to be visually loud in order to be memorable.
In terms of color, I am often attracted to natural and material-driven tones, especially colors that allow the character of metal, wood, glass, stone, or other materials to remain visible rather than covering them completely.
For places, I am naturally drawn to cities where design, architecture, craftsmanship, and everyday life are closely connected. I particularly enjoy places where you can discover both contemporary design and traces of history simply by walking through the city.
With food, I usually appreciate simple, well-prepared dishes where the quality of the ingredients is more important than unnecessary complexity.
My favorite seasons are spring and autumn. I enjoy the changing light, temperature, colors, and atmosphere during these periods. Perhaps as a lighting designer, I naturally notice how strongly the character of light changes throughout the year.
My favorite “things” are probably objects that reveal intelligence in their details: a well-designed chair, lamp, watch, tool, mechanism, or even a very ordinary object that has been resolved with exceptional care.
When it comes to brands, I am more interested in the philosophy behind a brand than the name itself. I admire brands that maintain a clear identity over time, invest seriously in design and manufacturing, and work with designers to create products with lasting value rather than simply following trends.
In general, I think my favorites tend to have one thing in common: simplicity with character. I am attracted to things that do not need to be visually loud in order to be memorable.
One of the things I often find amusing about design is the difference between how perfect an idea can look on a screen and how quickly reality can challenge it.
In 3D modeling and rendering, everything can appear perfectly controlled: proportions are precise, materials behave beautifully, and every component seems to fit exactly as planned. Then a physical prototype is made, and suddenly a small joint is too visible, a part is heavier than expected, a mechanism behaves differently, or the light creates a completely unexpected shadow.
These moments can initially be frustrating, but I have learned to enjoy them. They are a good reminder that physical products have their own personality and that reality is often a much stricter design critic than any software.
I also experienced similar moments while teaching design. Students sometimes asked very simple questions about a project that immediately exposed something the designer had been overthinking for hours. Those moments were always a little funny, because they showed how easily we can become too close to our own ideas.
Over time, I learned not to take these situations too seriously. Design involves constant testing, mistakes, surprises, and revisions. Sometimes the mistake that makes everyone laugh in the workshop is also the moment that leads to a much better solution.
Perhaps one of the useful lessons of being a designer is learning to accept that even a very serious design process should leave some space for humor.
In 3D modeling and rendering, everything can appear perfectly controlled: proportions are precise, materials behave beautifully, and every component seems to fit exactly as planned. Then a physical prototype is made, and suddenly a small joint is too visible, a part is heavier than expected, a mechanism behaves differently, or the light creates a completely unexpected shadow.
These moments can initially be frustrating, but I have learned to enjoy them. They are a good reminder that physical products have their own personality and that reality is often a much stricter design critic than any software.
I also experienced similar moments while teaching design. Students sometimes asked very simple questions about a project that immediately exposed something the designer had been overthinking for hours. Those moments were always a little funny, because they showed how easily we can become too close to our own ideas.
Over time, I learned not to take these situations too seriously. Design involves constant testing, mistakes, surprises, and revisions. Sometimes the mistake that makes everyone laugh in the workshop is also the moment that leads to a much better solution.
Perhaps one of the useful lessons of being a designer is learning to accept that even a very serious design process should leave some space for humor.
What makes my day great as a designer is the feeling that a project has moved forward in a meaningful way.
Sometimes that progress is very visible, such as finding the right form, solving a technical problem, completing a prototype, or seeing a product manufactured for the first time. At other times, it can be something much smaller: discovering a better detail, understanding why an earlier idea was not working, or finding a material or construction method that changes the direction of the project.
I am especially motivated by moments when different parts of a design suddenly begin to work together. When the form, structure, material, light, and manufacturing logic start to feel coherent, the project becomes much more exciting.
Curiosity is also an important source of motivation for me. Looking at new materials, manufacturing processes, architecture, lighting, technology, or even ordinary objects can generate new questions and ideas. I try to remain open to these observations because inspiration does not always come when you are deliberately searching for it.
Physical progress is particularly satisfying. Seeing something move from sketch to 3D model, from model to prototype, and eventually into a real object creates a strong sense of momentum.
When motivation is lower, I usually return to the problem itself rather than forcing creativity. I review the brief, sketch again, study references, simplify the problem, or focus on one unresolved detail. Very often, movement creates motivation rather than the other way around.
Ultimately, a great design day for me is not necessarily one in which everything goes perfectly. It is a day when I have learned something, solved something, or moved an idea closer to becoming real.
Sometimes that progress is very visible, such as finding the right form, solving a technical problem, completing a prototype, or seeing a product manufactured for the first time. At other times, it can be something much smaller: discovering a better detail, understanding why an earlier idea was not working, or finding a material or construction method that changes the direction of the project.
I am especially motivated by moments when different parts of a design suddenly begin to work together. When the form, structure, material, light, and manufacturing logic start to feel coherent, the project becomes much more exciting.
Curiosity is also an important source of motivation for me. Looking at new materials, manufacturing processes, architecture, lighting, technology, or even ordinary objects can generate new questions and ideas. I try to remain open to these observations because inspiration does not always come when you are deliberately searching for it.
Physical progress is particularly satisfying. Seeing something move from sketch to 3D model, from model to prototype, and eventually into a real object creates a strong sense of momentum.
When motivation is lower, I usually return to the problem itself rather than forcing creativity. I review the brief, sketch again, study references, simplify the problem, or focus on one unresolved detail. Very often, movement creates motivation rather than the other way around.
Ultimately, a great design day for me is not necessarily one in which everything goes perfectly. It is a day when I have learned something, solved something, or moved an idea closer to becoming real.
I would not say it was obvious that I would become a designer, and certainly not that I would become a “great” one. I think those descriptions only make sense when looking back over many years of work and experience.
What was clear from an early age, however, was that I was curious about objects and how things were made. I enjoyed drawing, observing forms, making things, and imagining how existing objects could be changed or improved.
At that age, I obviously did not understand these interests as industrial design. They were simply things that naturally attracted my attention. Later, when I discovered industrial design as a field, I realized that it brought together many of those interests: creativity, problem-solving, materials, technology, form, and making.
I think becoming a designer was therefore more of a gradual discovery than a predetermined path. Education gave those early interests structure, and professional experience gradually transformed them into a way of thinking and working.
Looking back, perhaps the signs were there, but I do not believe talent alone determines where someone eventually arrives. Curiosity, discipline, experience, persistence, and the willingness to continue learning have been much more important in shaping my career.
What was clear from an early age, however, was that I was curious about objects and how things were made. I enjoyed drawing, observing forms, making things, and imagining how existing objects could be changed or improved.
At that age, I obviously did not understand these interests as industrial design. They were simply things that naturally attracted my attention. Later, when I discovered industrial design as a field, I realized that it brought together many of those interests: creativity, problem-solving, materials, technology, form, and making.
I think becoming a designer was therefore more of a gradual discovery than a predetermined path. Education gave those early interests structure, and professional experience gradually transformed them into a way of thinking and working.
Looking back, perhaps the signs were there, but I do not believe talent alone determines where someone eventually arrives. Curiosity, discipline, experience, persistence, and the willingness to continue learning have been much more important in shaping my career.
It is almost impossible to predict what the world will look like a thousand years from now, but I believe the relationship between humans, technology, and the environment will be completely different from what we know today.
Technology will probably become much more integrated into everyday life, perhaps to the point where the distinction between physical and digital experiences becomes almost invisible. Materials, manufacturing, artificial intelligence, energy systems, and even the way we build cities may develop in ways that are difficult for us to imagine today.
At the same time, I think some fundamental human needs will remain surprisingly similar. People will still need comfort, connection, identity, beauty, safety, and meaningful experiences. Technology may change how these needs are addressed, but it will probably not eliminate them.
I also hope that future societies will develop a much more responsible relationship with resources and the natural environment. If humanity is still designing and producing objects a thousand years from now, I imagine that ideas such as waste, disposable products, and inefficient use of materials will seem very primitive.
The role of the designer may also change dramatically. Designers may work less on isolated objects and more on intelligent systems, environments, experiences, biological materials, or technologies that can adapt and evolve over time. But I believe the essential role of design will remain: understanding needs, asking the right questions, and giving meaningful form to possible solutions.
Perhaps the most interesting thing is that people a thousand years from now may look at the objects we design today in the same way we look at ancient artifacts. They may learn about our culture, technology, values, and priorities through the things we leave behind.
That thought gives design an additional responsibility. We are not only creating objects for the present; in some small way, we are also creating evidence of how our generation understood the world.
Technology will probably become much more integrated into everyday life, perhaps to the point where the distinction between physical and digital experiences becomes almost invisible. Materials, manufacturing, artificial intelligence, energy systems, and even the way we build cities may develop in ways that are difficult for us to imagine today.
At the same time, I think some fundamental human needs will remain surprisingly similar. People will still need comfort, connection, identity, beauty, safety, and meaningful experiences. Technology may change how these needs are addressed, but it will probably not eliminate them.
I also hope that future societies will develop a much more responsible relationship with resources and the natural environment. If humanity is still designing and producing objects a thousand years from now, I imagine that ideas such as waste, disposable products, and inefficient use of materials will seem very primitive.
The role of the designer may also change dramatically. Designers may work less on isolated objects and more on intelligent systems, environments, experiences, biological materials, or technologies that can adapt and evolve over time. But I believe the essential role of design will remain: understanding needs, asking the right questions, and giving meaningful form to possible solutions.
Perhaps the most interesting thing is that people a thousand years from now may look at the objects we design today in the same way we look at ancient artifacts. They may learn about our culture, technology, values, and priorities through the things we leave behind.
That thought gives design an additional responsibility. We are not only creating objects for the present; in some small way, we are also creating evidence of how our generation understood the world.
I would like people who follow my work to know that behind every finished design there is usually a much longer process of questioning, experimentation, failure, revision, and learning than what is visible in the final images.
I do not see design as a search for a particular style or for constant novelty. I am more interested in understanding why an object should exist, how it can be made intelligently, how people will experience it, and whether it can remain meaningful over time.
Lighting has become an important part of my work because it allows me to work simultaneously with physical objects and something much less tangible: atmosphere. I am interested not only in designing the lamp itself, but also in the shadows, reflections, materials, and emotional qualities that appear when light interacts with a space.
I would also like people to know that I still consider myself a student of design. Every project introduces a new problem, material, technology, manufacturing process, or point of view, and that continuous learning is one of the reasons I still find this profession exciting.
Awards, exhibitions, and publications are encouraging, and I am grateful whenever my work receives recognition, but they are not the final goal. What matters most to me is continuing to create work that is thoughtful, technically resolved, and capable of becoming something real.
I also believe strongly in collaboration and in sharing knowledge. Many of the things I have learned came from teachers, manufacturers, engineers, craftspeople, clients, colleagues, and students. Design becomes richer when knowledge moves between people rather than remaining with one individual.
If there is one thing I would like people to remember about my work, it is that I try to find a balance between imagination and reality. I want my designs to have character and emotion, but I also want them to make sense as objects that can be built, used, understood, and lived with.
And perhaps most importantly, I hope my work continues to evolve. I would rather remain curious and keep discovering new possibilities than arrive at a point where I feel that I already know exactly what my next design should look like.
I do not see design as a search for a particular style or for constant novelty. I am more interested in understanding why an object should exist, how it can be made intelligently, how people will experience it, and whether it can remain meaningful over time.
Lighting has become an important part of my work because it allows me to work simultaneously with physical objects and something much less tangible: atmosphere. I am interested not only in designing the lamp itself, but also in the shadows, reflections, materials, and emotional qualities that appear when light interacts with a space.
I would also like people to know that I still consider myself a student of design. Every project introduces a new problem, material, technology, manufacturing process, or point of view, and that continuous learning is one of the reasons I still find this profession exciting.
Awards, exhibitions, and publications are encouraging, and I am grateful whenever my work receives recognition, but they are not the final goal. What matters most to me is continuing to create work that is thoughtful, technically resolved, and capable of becoming something real.
I also believe strongly in collaboration and in sharing knowledge. Many of the things I have learned came from teachers, manufacturers, engineers, craftspeople, clients, colleagues, and students. Design becomes richer when knowledge moves between people rather than remaining with one individual.
If there is one thing I would like people to remember about my work, it is that I try to find a balance between imagination and reality. I want my designs to have character and emotion, but I also want them to make sense as objects that can be built, used, understood, and lived with.
And perhaps most importantly, I hope my work continues to evolve. I would rather remain curious and keep discovering new possibilities than arrive at a point where I feel that I already know exactly what my next design should look like.
Designer Interview
7 April 2018
The history of designing in Persia is thousands of years old and designing an old history in Iran. About choosing art and design it’s better to say that it was the design that chose me. All my ancestors have interacted with design. Should be mentioned design for me is more than a worthwhile business. Design is all my life. My major influence has been my family & friends. Although, studying Industrial design allowed me to surround myself with passionate and proud faculty. Graduation in Industrial design and Post Graduate degree in Product Design has helped me gain an analytical and consumercentric approach to a problem. I select my way to help the people in every nation I wish to continue the learning experience and to work with multinational organizations which will enhance my ability and design skills. I am looking for opportunities that involve a variety of design solving process, work, and exposure in the design industry. Now that I've been thinking about years ago putting on the design path was the best choice for me.
Mostafa Arvand Design Studio It consists of people who are in different areas of design, production and business. Design projects in the field of medicine, agriculture, home appliances, fashion, home furniture, lighting, urban furniture and... Which continues to operate with various projects around the world, especially the Middle East.
The word design means lots of different things to different people. But nearly everyone you meet says that it's obvious what design is. They are often surprised to find that other people mean something different by design than they do. A process of creating an object/anything else where we use our creativeness to make the object beautiful. Like in creating product designs we should be artistic and creative to produce a good output.
Generally designed for people who nationals product design not limit may Consumer electronics, furniture, packaging. Basically anything this has physical third dimension attached to it. In short, all objects that make me be a handyman for the people. We designing to make the world a better place.
All conceptual designs made into the product have been transformed. They are lovely for me because they have become a reality.
My first professional experience in product design is related to a household food processor. During my college education, I was hired in the design team of the home appliance manufacturer. It was the first design of my product designs. I spent nearly a year. And sold on the world market. As a domestic product was introduced in the market.
Digital manufacturing methods are my favorite, and experience with new materials like intelligent materials is one of my tendencies in design. I corporate for four years in the field of digital manufacturing with FabLab Iran (FabLab.ir) was formed in 2014 as a digital fabrication laboratory to provide an open access environment for anyone who desires to invent, design, and share knowledge across international borders.. Products and innovative technology of smart materials are my favorite. It also utilizes high technology services to all people is the first step.
I find I'm most creative when I organize my everyday thoughts. Based on a TED Talk where the speaker asked about our first 3 thoughts of the day I started thinking the same thoughts each day before I go to sleep and another set of same thoughts when I wake. The things I usually think of but now it's a shorter mental checklist instead of random thoughts floating across my awareness. What I find is that because I DE cluttered my usual mental chatter I'm able to access my creativity more easily during other hours I no longer have a peak creativity time I'm creative anytime I choose because there's no chatter to obscure the creativity.
Mass Production + business Think of the products that you use every day. The majority of them are useful, attractive, and seemingly very simple. However, even the simplest products are much more complicated than they may appear. Not only do these products need to be conceptualized and designed, they must also be manufactured. Industrial design is a complicated multi-disciplinary area of design. It involves creating products and other objects used by consumers, starting from the idea stage and going through the manufacturing process. Industrial design covers several areas of design. Some of these areas may include product design, car design, furniture design, shoe design, and packaging design. Unlike some other areas of design, however, the industrial design focuses more on mass-produced items. It does not only cover the concept stage of a product, but it also focuses on designing the product as well as designing a manufacturing plan for the product.
All emotions ranging from frustration to joy but in another view from love to hate lies across a product that is important to you and what perspective you look at it.
In my opinion, the biggest emotional event for a designer is to achieve the result. Now this result can be a cheap product or a precious product. The type of emotion is not related to the number of designs. Because creating a product is always exciting. Honor and pleasure of being useful, to see the product being used by others (people) who are entitled to the good life.
A successfully design, it has to satisfy certain criteria, not only functional but also psychological and aesthetic. Good design emphasizes the usefulness of a product while disregarding anything that could possibly detract from it.
Beauty and the parallel performance is analyzed. In my opinion, the beauty of mass production cannot sacrifice performance and functionality contrast. Must be balanced judgment can be made in the first factor is the same.
Before anything else, you must be a professional designer and prospective impacts of the project or product manufacturing think. Other hand, the designer will be directly related to man and animal rights community and the most important is his commitment. Feedback control schemes in modern societies, we are improving it useful and harmful effects of detention, we are touching them. I know he's not a designer only designs but also his attitude to society and the environment is better to be creative in the way of interest.
Check the details around us (nature) that can make future calls. Knowing this ahead of time will advance the idea of the product is always recommended, however, that to achieve the future should see well. In the future, we don’t have any field of design we will have an only design.
My last exhibit was in Dubai and the most important exhibition of Mostafa Arvand Studios will be in the Milan Design Week Apr 17, 2018 – Apr 22, 2018.
Nature is the best option for me. To inspire me in the nature of society and in fact to the community. To grow creativity, I can see the world's most effective and scrutinizing. And, from recent sources, I have found references in the recent years to which Internet-books have played a major role.
I’m Minimalist. I'm trying to design the minimal. But the distance between my world and the world of production has not always allowed me. But I try to do it in minimal design style. And for me, this is a great value. To improve this, I try to study and see more.
I'm living in Iran-Persian land. And thanks to professionals more have traveled most countries in the Middle East. I believe that culture can be effectively designed and opinion leaders in the world of design culture obey With that experience, I've found that traveling has earned national attention to the culture of those products that have been more successful. Iran is an ancient country with a history of over three thousand years of different ethnic groups in Iran has created a rich culture if you notice that any designer can take advantage of it. The type of climate and land has a great influence on the designers' viewpoint. We do all of our business with the regional design culture internationally.
As a designer through the Design Studio, MOSTAFA ARVAND DESIGN STUDIO I always know myself as a designer not more! You can see our designs at WWW.MOSTAFAARVAND.COM, So far 16 contracts have become a professional end product and the market have had.
My recommendation and suggestion to companies about working with the designer More focused on how to interact with the designer, companies need to trust designers and create the opportunity to experience designers. In contrast, designers should strive to create the opportunity to enhance product design with confidence. As a business is two-way, design is also two-way. Win-win
In my idea, the design process is the transformation of an idea, needs, or wants by consumers or the marketplace at large, into a product that satisfies these needs. This is usually accomplished by adventurous people that are willing to take it on. Sometimes an engineer will be involved on some levels but not always. The design is basically a problem-solving exercise. The design of a new product consists of the following stages: Design Brief Product Design Specifications Concept Design Testing Detail Design Manufacturing and Further Testing Refinement and Sales The development of a new product may also require the development of a prototype to prove that new technologies work before committing resources to full-scale manufacture. We can assist you with some of the prototype design if you need this help. If you do desire to develop a prototype you should have the product tested by as many people as you can possibly work with. Be sure to have a non-disclosure agreement with people that you are unsure of. You may need to contact an attorney for the best protection. The traditional view of the design to the manufacturing process is that it is a sequential process, the outcome of one stage is passed on to the next stage. This tends to lead to iteration in the design. I.e. having to go back to an earlier stage to correct mistakes. This can make products more expensive and delivered to the marketplace late. A better approach is for the designer to consider the stages following design to try and eliminate any potential problems. This means that the designer requires help from the other experts, for example, a manufacturing expert to help ensure that any designs the designer comes up with can be made. We try to go ahead with the program.
1-carpet 2-pot 3-keyboard 4-task light 5-frame
My day usually starts at 6 am ,usually in the first hours I try to respond to all emails and letters received before 8am. After that, it will be up to date to develop current projects if I need to have a meeting with the employer or colleagues at the studio. I go there and go to work daily. In parallel, I'm teaching at the University of Art as a professor to teach students.
My suggestion for young designers is to be useful. This usefulness can be both effective for design and designer. To be useful, you need to be persevered and experience. So they can get the experience. Because design is not something, it's a process. In my opinion, no one is a perfect designer, but it may be better than the other designer. That's why I do not have the end of design, so you have to try and learn.
Positive points: Variance - Being creative - Being up to date Negative points: unknown among some people
Good Coordinator Design needs to be coordinated. Between reason and feeling between engineering and art.
Bring ideas and designs to the table that are relevant by considering current economic, social and business trends. Talent: Talent is intentionally last on this list. Having a real talent for design is as critical as it has ever been. However, talented designers are far more common than those designers who have real talent complemented with the attributes that are outlined above. Business: Create value in your markets. Effective designers need to understand how their businesses (or their clients) what role design can play to bring an advantage to their customers.Global Awareness: There are really two aspects of to global awareness: understanding how changes around the world are affecting the customers and markets; and understanding that the talent pool for designers today is global. Effective Storytelling: Fold and translate your ideas into the priorities of your client or organization. Flawless Execution: Get things done. Long gone are the days in which a designer handed work off to a project team to figure out. (It was never a good modus operandi, anyway.) Today, a designer has to work with cross-functional teams to advance designs and shepherd them through to production every step of the way. Passionate Curiosity: Continually explore and understand. More often this is a key differentiator between those who will make an impact and all the others. Imagination: Bring ideas and opportunities together in ways that were not initially obvious. It can be a powerful and defining capability for a designer. Objectivity & Self Awareness: Assess yourself and your work, and view yourself through the eyes of others with a realistic understanding of your capabilities. Crisp Communication: Build credibility. Often the language of design is very different from the language of business. The ability to effectively communicate across the disciplines is critical for a designer to influence an organization.
See (healthy eyes) Hearing (normal ear) Thinking (full brain) Pencils (drawing an original idea) Ingredients (made replica or prototype) Computing (Software Development) Study sources (books, internet) God (who always looks at me)
Yes, it's true, designing can be time consuming and can be difficult if not properly managed. For this purpose, I am also practicing a timely delivery of design. Although this is not easier than design.
This is a completely different subject, and at no time can we determine a time period for any type of project. It’s better to say that it may take 10 minutes and may be several years.
Who is the product user? . . . . . Actually the same 5WH system
Be the designer This is my most important job. As you know, how much of a designer can affect the process of society?
The owners of small and large industries ,the head of the factory, the company, the public and private organizations and, ultimately, the people.
The design of products that people focus on are human-centered is more enjoyable. Because you can then enter the world of other humans with any gender, race, skin color, dialect, national language, healthy or unhealthy, large or small.
Applications must be connected to the future of my career I plan to design a professional designer With specialized workshops throughout the developing world to help designers in gaining knowledge Promoting knowledge sharing designed to help them with me. Travel and accommodation in areas with developed knowledge of design and manufacturing studio designed to help myself to a better future to join the world of design. My aim points designed to achieve a better life for all people with any color and cultures and in this age of globalization, I think. I'm hoping to progress career attempts.
Yes, I've always tried to play in a big band or team and working with others to achieve desired results teamwork answer I would be more ideal. Other hand, different perspectives on the challenges of an ever more innovative design will advance. I do not remember that I have acted in designing individual.
Yes, now that I am interviewing you, I have three ongoing projects, one of which is related to regional urban furniture, which is very important in Iran. And with all the energy of the design team I manage, I'm designing it. This project is appealing to me for interacting with humans, and I have a special attention to it. The location of the project is one of the tourist cities in Iran, and this can be the reason for these urban elements to be seen by tourists, which in the future can create better relations.
www.mostafaarvand.com
I would like to pay more attention to design in order to have a better world.