One day I will die. I foresee a dramatic ending with some fireworks, some pain and lots of wild music. But after that, it will be silent. Silent for a long while…
This story was written by designer Marcel Wanders, when he released his iconic Monster Chair in 2010.
One day…
I will be sitting on a little stool at the head of a large table, ready for an eternal dinner. Seven dark leather chairs with ferocious faces surround the table. Eight sets of silver cutlery and white porcelain plates lay amongst copious amounts of white tulips on a fresh white tablecloth with white ribbons. There will be sparkling crystal glasses ready to be filled with endless amounts of superb wine. Candles will be burning as Callas and Puccini sit in the corner singing heavenly tunes as I wait for my guests. I will await my seven muses. I will await the seven most important women in my life to dine eternally in their gathered presence.
All the beauty I discovered and hoped to have will suddenly be there for me eternally.
Butterflies…
My muses are the true collection of my life. I collect them as if they were butterflies. My net flies gracefully through the air as I want to catch them without hurting them. I want to treat them with kindness, caution, and respect. I will never pin a butterfly down to keep her from flying. Therefore, I know I am not able to keep them only for myself. (But when they fly away they magically double so I can take them with me wherever I am.) However important this collection is to me, I know that with my inevitable death I will lose not only my life but also my collection of muses.
The eternal party…
At that table, after my death, I will wait patiently until my muses fly back to me, to my table for this eternal treat. I will look forward with excitement and hope that they might choose to be with me again. I will hope that I was able to give them enough respect, love, laughs and sparkling eyes. I will hope that with time they can forgive my stupidity, disloyalty and little lies. I will hope that I fed them enough flowers and sunshine, poetry and fantasies for them to desire a seat at my festive table. I will enjoy the eternal pleasure of being reunited with my muses. Each muse will find a black leather embroidered chair that is just for her: Her solitaire, soft and comfortable, follows the rules of a future contemporary style while conflicting with the rationales of history. Showing the frozen face of a monster, a dragon, seemingly harmless. Only when all seven muses are seated will the party begin. There will never be an end to this orgy of sensitivity and passion. We will laugh, we will tease, we will play and we will cry. We will feel connected on the deepest level of our souls. Wine will not give us headaches, sweets will not make us fat, cheese will scent like perfume, for always, forever…
The Monstera inside…
The greater the excitement of being reunited with my collection of muses the crueler and more painful the moment if not all of them will arrive at my table. One of them could decide to stay away, not to join. One of them could turn her back to me.
In this unfortunate event, this dark occasion, this moment of eternal sorrow, I will understand why I deserve my muse’s disloyalty. The frozen monster in the free leather chair will come alive. It will step onto the table and reveal its fierce claws. It will spit fire while its black leather skin will turn crimson. From the chest of the monster will spring long sharp needles. With one swift move he will pierce all my loyal muses. I will remain alone at my table, the wine will bloat my skull, sweets will make me obese, the stench of the cheese will make me want to cut of my nose, for always, forever…
Today, forever…
But today, I can still serve my muses; I must remember to feed them flowers and sunshine, poetry and fantasies… Eternity might last forever…