MAKERS | ASIA PACIFIC | CHINA | MULTI-MEDIA

Misha | Wallcovering Makers

The name Misha comes from the merge of two cities, Milan and Shanghai: the first is Chiara Enrico's city of origin, the second the place where she has chosen to live for years, making it the base from which to organise visits to the heart of China. In fact, it was in the small country villages that Chiara discovered the last hotbeds of an almost forgotten painting tradition, the Gongbi, of which she became so fond that she created a reinterpretation for the western market. The resulting design is timeless and magically exotic.

The silk wall panels that Misha Wallcoverings produce are entirely hand-painted, following a technique that requires years of specialisation. It has a great ace up its sleeve to distinguish it from similar European methods: a gradient that lightens the colors to the point of making them look like impalpable watercolors.  

How did you begin? 

I went to China to continue the work I had already done for years in Milan, [where i as an] interior architect. I was living in Shanghai and discovering China; I came across the great surprise of their excellent craftsmanship. Obviously this nation has a glorious handcrafts past, but 20 years ago what was left was not valued at all. It was actually ignored by foreigners and Chinese alike. I, on the other hand, was at a stage in my life where, having had an academic background in minimalism and having applied its strict laws for years, was fed up with empty spaces and the ‘less is more’ rhetoric. I wanted to rediscover the decoration and beauty of colors, flowers and traditional materials. The country ateliers, where farmers' daughters carried on (with difficulty) the tradition of painted silks, were a revelation.

How did you learn?

For me, it was a sudden and fortuitous discovery, but the technique called ‘Gongbi’ originated over 2000 years ago! It is a uniquely Chinese technique, which obviously reached the pinnacle within the imperial courts. The years of the Cultural Revolution, years in which China in a certain sense repudiated its past and risked losing the knowledge of the craft, put a strain on its survival. But then, slowly, the tradition was recovered. In order to familiarise myself with this art, I began by collecting the drawings that the craftsmen still possessed or by obtaining them from books. I then started to transfer the ancient patterns into panoramic designs suitable for panels on the walls of modern houses. In order to maintain the flavour of the antique, I wanted each panel to be different from the other – but all assembled together. The prototyping and start-up work was made possible by the fact that I lived in China, and by the extreme cooperation and generosity of the Chinese people, who never shy away from work and challenges.

How do you plan, prepare and create your works?

I run several ateliers, all located in the countryside of north-central China and frequented mainly by women. The stages of the work are as follows: after receiving the designs, the outlines are transferred onto silk, spread out on large wooden tables as has been done for centuries. The silk is local, often made not far away, but in some cases we also use Japanese organza. In both cases, the fabric must be treated with natural methods to stiffen it and allow us to work with the brush.

At the drawing stage, the traditional process would favour ink, but we use pencil to avoid too sharp contours. After that, the color must be applied: two different brushes are used (both round), one of which is only for the purpose of producing the nuances, which are the great wonder of this technique. Further steps for special cases may be the application of gold leaf or embroidery, which is another of the incredible riches that handmade China has to offer. 

Who or what most influences your work?

The first collection was completely focused on traditional Chinese designs, but from the very beginning we adapted the historical heritage to Western and modern taste with small adjustments. Colors that were too bright were softened, and those that were too muted and dusty were brightened up. We have also retouched the proportions of the designs to make them suitable for inhabited rooms and the walls of houses and flats. But the iconographic repertoire remained the one that everyone recognises: cranes, lotus flowers, peach blossoms, birds on branches.

And we soon realised the different ways in which these patterns were received in different parts of the world: Arab countries, for example, do not like animal depictions, the Russians prefer the more traditional decorations, and the Italians, on the other hand, the more delicate forms, such as bamboos and magnolias, or even landscapes that create a trompe l'oeil effect of immersion in nature.

From the second collection onwards we allowed ourselves to experiment more with creativity, but the recurring thread has always been exoticism and travel. What won me over about this technique was its radical diversity from everything Western, and I like the idea of bringing a piece from a different and remote place into a home that can otherwise be very traditional and standard.

What are the best and worst things about being a craftsperson today?

Successfully bridging cultures was a huge satisfaction. I don't think it would have been possible if I had not learnt to speak Chinese, but the locals did everything they could to understand me and help me throughout the process. Now I am back living in Italy and I make the trip east a couple of times a year, because years and years of doing business have made it much more agile. The difficulties that have remained are all related to the length of the process, which is entirely manual and carried out in many small steps, each requiring great perfection and accuracy. And of course the great distances between the creative headquarters and the workshops.

Interview by Sara Pierdonà
Images from Misha