Objects of the Forest: 10+ years of a design expedition in the Amazon
Research & Words Andrea Bandoni
Ver-o-Peso, the largest market in the Amazon
Let's journey back in time to July 2011, when I, a Brazilian designer with European education, found myself working on a design project in Belém - a bustling metropolis situated in the Amazon region. In search of some adventure during my downtime, I decided to visit the local market, Ver-o-Peso, which is known to be the largest market in the Amazon. Little did I know, the experience that awaited me there would be one of the most profound sensorial journeys of my life. The vivid colors, teasing smells, and instigating textures of the objects and food on display transported me to another realm entirely: the forest was there.
Being a product designer, my eyes couldn't help but spot the most "sustainable" objects I had ever seen - things that literally materialized the forest and were far from the industrial system that I had always been accustomed to. The most impressive, however, was the tipiti: a tool made from straws that could extract the poison from cassava, turning it into flour, biju, maniva, and tucupi - some of the most vital foods for the Amazonian population. To my surprise, I had never even heard of the tipiti or most of the other incredible objects I came across that afternoon.
After that strong experience, in the end of 2011, I had this crazy – and dreamy – “artistic” project approved, Objects of the Forest, that involved embarking on a design expedition in the Brazilian Amazon to seek out objects that are still in use and that exemplify the strong bond between humans and the forest. We also offered design workshops in the region's two key cities, Manaus and Belém. My partner in this quest was designer Ana Paula Campos, and in the end, our findings would be compiled in a publication that would shed light on the objects we encountered.
tipiti: a tool made from straws that could extract the poison from cassava
“Lost paradise, reservoir for the future of civilization, world’s lung, land of the few, no man’s land, underworld, stage of carnage, barbarism, green hell. The myriad of representations that the Amazon evokes in the global collective imagination corresponds perhaps to its incommensurability as a forest.”
tipiti: a tool made from straws that could extract the poison from cassava
“In these travel notes [...] Sometimes I stop and hesitate to tell certain things, I fear people will not believe”
I can still feel the butterflies in my stomach when I arrived at night in Manaus in April 2012. How could I find any objects there? Can I offer a workshop, not being an expert? But, call me naive or lucky, the fact is things quickly moved to a stage in which they started to flow.
During the workshops, we were fortunate to have highly engaged participants who shared their knowledge with us. I recall my conversation with Jimmy Christian, at the workshop in Manaus just two days after our arrival. He showed me his pictures of the giant Pirarucu fish and dropped a fascinating fact: “people use the tongue of this fish as a grater, and the scales as sandpaper.” I was initially skeptical, but after all, where else but the Amazon's vast, never-ending rivers could we find such colossal and prehistoric-looking fish, with tongue and scales that are incredibly robust and suitable as objects?
Pirarucu fish tongue
caba's house, a nest made by local wasps
At the Belém workshop, Gilda Trindade brought in an object that looked like a beautiful sculpture. It was a caba's house, a nest made by local wasps using a paper-like material, which some people use as decoration. In fact, years later, when researcher Gabriele Oropallo analyzed our project, he called the caba's house a "ready-made" found in the forest - a perfect and inspiring definition.
Also at the Belém workshop, Ninon Jardim also introduced me to the mind-boggling technique used to paint cuias black. Cuias, which are the fruit of the Crescentia cujete tree traditionally transformed into containers for various activities, are painted with a dark-red resin extracted from the Cumatê tree to achieve the traditional black color. To fixate the resin, cuias are placed in a mixture of ashes and human urine, which hardens and darkens the Cumatê resin, resulting in a smooth and shiny surface. The process makes cuias more resistant, allowing for decorative scratching of the black layer. I was so fascinated by this process that I had Ninon repeat it several times and even filmed her telling the story. Cuias became a bit of an obsession for me, and I'm currently studying them for my PhD.
“Objects of the Forest is (...) less interested in its forms than in its methods. And yet it breaks with the idea that shortage, or “deadlock,” has generated the objects analyzed, and prevented the development of more complex forms and processes, as a kind of subjection to the social reality, or to nature.”
Cuias, made of the fruit of the Crescentia cujete tree and typically used as containers for various activities
Cuias, made of the fruit of the Crescentia cujete tree and typically used as containers for various activities
Throughout the expedition, I was constantly amazed by the abundance of forest objects that surrounded me. Whether it was in museums, markets, shops, crafts centers, or in the daily routines of the locals, these objects never ceased to impress me. Take hammocks, for example - they were everywhere! Traveling by boat is the norm in the region, and distances that would be considered short elsewhere can take several hours. People bring their own personal hammocks on boat trips, expressing their identity while traveling with comfort. I couldn't help but draw a comparison between these boats and airplanes - imagine how much better flights could be if we could bring our own beautiful hammocks.
hammock made with castanha fibers
In our expedition nothing surpassed the sensation of walking inside the forest. In two moments of our journey (Anavilhanas and FLONA Tapajós) we could have the opportunity of staying inside the forest and make trails accompanied by guides who knew the life of the surroundings. It was there that we witnessed the use of objects crafted from materials found within the forest, such as bags, whistles, and packaging. More than that, I started to adapt my senses and connect to that environment. I could identify some seeds, trees and materials that interested me: I got familiar with the forest.
“Ultimately, the project enhances the sense of belonging to a particular ecosystem and community. Each analyzed object presents a sort of DNA of the complex Amazonian context, including its networks of subjects and objects.”
“I never expected to be telling this story over ten years later. During that month, I was coming up with new design ideas every single day; there's so much waiting for designers in forests. I just hope more designers take the time to reconnect to a world that's not so far away after all. I finish this essay with some of my words from the 2012 publication: “The objects of the forest depend on natural conditions for their production and are at many times perishable; they are rooted in a non-consumerist culture and derived from indigenous techniques. These objects can thus serve as inspiration for rediscovering nature in multiple ways, for tightening our bonds with it and helping us reinvent the world in which we live.”
Natural Bags - These are different models of bags or backpacks created by weaving together leaves or vines, often produced in the forest to be used instantly to carry things.
This object is actually a “box” of seeds. It is the fruit of the tree called Cuia-de-Macaco (Cuia-of-Monkey)
“The project challenges the logic of both capitalist production, commodification, and consumption, while taking for granted the racial, social, economic and cultural reality of craftsman. In this sense, it proposes a contemporary rather than nostalgic return to Lévi-Strauss’s lesson in Tristes Tropiques (1955), reminding us that the modus operandi of our civilization is one option amongst many others that could be offered to humanity.”