Studio visit: Esra Lemmens

With a background in Fine Arts and Design and years spent working closely with designers and studios, Esra Lemmens has developed a sharp perspective on how the design industry is evolving, particularly in the Middle East. Through her work at The Esra Lemmens Agency, she has witnessed the growing appetite for collectible design, but also the pressures that come with a market increasingly driven by rarity, exclusivity and price. In this conversation with IFDM, Lemmens questions what happens when design begins to borrow too heavily from the art market. She argues for a return to function, accessibility and long-term thinking, where experimentation can lead to scalable production and where commercial success is understood not as a compromise, but as the infrastructure that allows creative practices to survive and grow. Why do you describe collectible design as a “myth”? Because the label “collectible” has started to change the way we see and judge design. Instead of asking whether an object functions well, improves daily life, responds intelligently to a need or contributes to society, we increasingly judge it through scarcity, exclusivity and potential market value. Design risks becoming something to admire from a distance rather than something created in service of people. Do you think collectible design has become too close to the art market? Yes. The problem begins when design borrows the mechanisms of the art market without questioning whether they belong there. Artificial scarcity, astronomical prices and gallery presentation can make an object feel culturally important quickly, but design has another responsibility. It has to function. It has to engage with daily life. Design is not simply an expression of the self; it is also a service to others. Why is Dubai particularly susceptible to this collectible culture? Dubai has a natural relationship with luxury, real estate, exclusivity and rapid growth, so high prices and rarity can easily become shorthand for value. For some designers, the collectible world can look like a shortcut to prestige. For buyers and developers, it offers status and exclusivity. That makes the market especially vulnerable to confusing rarity with genuine design value. What is the danger for young designers following this path? Many young designers are entering a market that does not have enough traditional corporate or industrial opportunities to absorb them, so they turn to self-production. Without factories, infrastructure or economies of scale, they spend huge amounts of time and money producing one-off objects. They can end up gambling their financial stability on expensive pieces that are extremely difficult to sell. Are high prices always a reflection of craftsmanship or quality? Not necessarily. Sometimes an extreme price reflects how inefficiently a piece was produced rather than its real market value or technical sophistication. If you manufacture something alone, in tiny quantities, without the support of industrial infrastructure, the cost inevitably rises. That does not automatically make the object more valuable. What are architects, developers and professional buyers actually asking for? There is growing fatigue around pieces that work beautifully in exhibitions but cannot be sourced, reproduced or specified for real projects. What the market needs is regional design that combines originality and excellent craftsmanship with repeatability and practicality. There is a real opportunity in accessible luxury rather than either ultra-rare trophies or cheap mass production. So is there still a place for collectible design? Absolutely. Don’t get me wrong, I have a soft spot for collectible design. When I studied Fine Arts & Design, we were taught to save up for special and unique pieces—not as status symbols, but because of the ideas, skill and experimentation behind them. Through working with so many talented designers, I was fortunate to have access to some of those pieces myself. But they live in my house and are used every day, surrounded by two toddlers who have learned remarkably quickly to respect them. They are part of our daily lives, not objects placed on a pedestal or admired from a distance. For me, the appreciation comes from understanding the thought, work and experimentation behind them. Buying a collectible piece can also support a studio and help finance the development of new work. This is particularly true of independent designers and small studios producing pieces individually, where a single sale may fund the next prototype, material experiment or collaboration with a specialist craftsperson. You are not only paying for the object that leaves the studio; you are helping to create the conditions in which the next idea can be explored, often before anyone knows whether it will succeed. In that sense, collecting can be a genuine form of patronage. It gives designers the financial room to take risks, employ people, refine techniques and continue developing their practice. That does not justify artificial scarcity or inflated pricing, but it does acknowledge the very real economics of producing original work independently. I still see collectible design as a laboratory rather than an entire business model. Limited production gives designers the freedom to experiment with materials, challenge conventional forms and establish a distinct creative voice. The problem begins when that experimental stage is treated not as a point of departure, but as the permanent commercial model. What should happen after that experimental stage? The strongest ideas should move into long-term production. Designers need to think about how a conceptual breakthrough can become something reproducible, functional and commercially sustainable. That means working with manufacturers, refining production, lowering costs and making excellent design available to more people. How do you define real success for a designer? Real validation is not simply having one object under a gallery spotlight or in a private collection. Success comes when good design can scale without losing its quality or intelligence. Why make one extraordinary chair for one person if you can develop an extraordinary chair that reaches thousands of homes? Why is profitability important to the future of Middle Eastern design? Because financial viability gives designers the ability to build something lasting. Profit allows them to employ local talent, establish studios, improve production and continue developing their work. Commercial success should not be treated as a betrayal of creativity. It can be the infrastructure that allows creativity to survive and grow.