Marta Sala
You must know the past, engage with the present, and have a vision for the future
“The millimeter is important. This is where the craftsmanship comes in and makes the difference between a design piece and a simple object”
Milanese by birth, Parisian by affinity, Marta Sala brings a dual perspective to the name of her maison. Marta Sala Éditions — founded ten years ago with no showroom and just ten original pieces — is more than a brand; it’s a cultural gesture. It carries the legacy of Azucena, the family company established by her mother, Maria Teresa Tosi, alongside Luigi Caccia Dominioni (her uncle), Ignazio Gardella, and Corrado Corradi Dell’Acqua — a brand that made Italian design history. But Marta takes it further, toward a new way of inhabiting spaces: freer, more nomadic, more open to dialogue. She tells us this herself on the occasion of the brand’s tenth anniversary and the exhibition The Secret Soul of Useful Things, curated by Federica Sala at the Bagatti Valsecchi Museum during the Fuorisalone. The title is a poetic statement in itself — evoking soul, utility, and secrecy. Much like the furniture Marta designs and produces in collaboration with architects and designers with whom she builds true creative conversations — from Lazzarini & Pickering to Federico Peri, all the way to recent tributes to wood by Herzog & de Meuron. This is a story of precision and affinity, where every millimeter matters and every object, if it is to exist, must also be beautiful. Because, as her uncle Luigi Caccia Dominioni used to say, “The detail is everything.” And Marta has never stopped believing it. We met her in the vibrant days of Milan Design Week.
After being part of the family company Azucena for 25 years, in 2015 you founded your own design brand. Where did the need to create something of your own come from?
MARTA SALA:
At Azucena, I realized how difficult it was to introduce contemporary elements. I felt we were losing touch with the way the world was evolving. So I decided to take a new path, bringing with me a vast heritage of knowledge, but with a very clear vision: to create something contemporary, with the same attention to quality and design, but from a new perspective. With new people and new needs. The way we inhabit spaces was changing, and I felt it was necessary to respond to that shift. I don’t believe in sterile nostalgia for the past. I believe in contemporary creation, in the quality of the present, and I think it’s important to assert that. Whether on a large or small scale, it must be stated clearly and boldly.
Each collection results from a dialogue between you and the designers you choose to work with, the artisans who bring the pieces to life, and the clients, who are actively involved in the creative process. In a world where dialogue seems to be losing value, you’ve chosen to build everything around it. How much courage did that take?
MARTA SALA:
For me, it came naturally. I’ve always been used to engaging in dialogue — with people and with things. Architects and designers are a source of inspiration for me, but they also need to interact with the entrepreneur. I deeply believe in this exchange, in this critical and constructive dialogue. Today, we rarely talk about criticism, but I think it’s essential: it’s stimulating, it’s healthy. Being challenged by someone who asks questions or makes demands always leads to something generative. Historically, Italian design was based on a continuous conversation between entrepreneurs and creatives. And that kind of dialogue brings value, completeness, and authenticity to a project. Everyone brings their own expertise: the entrepreneur, the designer, the artisan. When those three forms of knowledge meet, truly complete projects are born.
What’s been the biggest challenge in these first ten years?
MARTA SALA:
At the beginning, I was so confident in the strength of my pieces that I didn’t even consider how things would go commercially. I assumed Azucena’s clients would naturally follow me. But they didn’t — it was a tough start. No one reached out. I was sending emails to myself, wondering if maybe my inbox wasn’t working. Then, little by little, thanks to the strength of a distinct identity — visible in the lines, the materials, the Italian essence of my pieces — I found my place. The market is complex: there’s a lot of supply, but little identity. Those who truly understood my value were the architects. They’re my main partners, the ones who really grasp what I can offer in terms of feasibility, finishes, and design. With them, I build deep relationships of trust. Design — at least the kind I believe in — is still an authentic world, made of real people, artisans, designers, and clients. A piece of design has to be beautiful, functional, and real. And to me, that’s what design is: a strong idea, realized with a level of design and production quality that also carries an ethic — a balance between quality and price. In that sense, our world is still a pure one, less contaminated than fashion or art.
How has design changed from 2015 to today?
MARTA SALA:
It’s changed enormously. The pandemic disrupted many dynamics — even the way people shop. Today, purchases are more impulsive, less considered. Also, many architects and designers have started self-producing, cutting out the dialogue with entrepreneurs. And I believe that’s a mistake: it eliminates the exchange of ideas, the dialectic. There’s a huge rediscovery of craft, of the handmade — but let’s be clear: craftsmanship alone isn’t enough. Design needs structure. A good piece comes from a strong intuition, a clear idea from which all other choices flow.
And how have you changed in these ten years?
MARTA SALA:
I’ve tried to understand what was happening around me, but it hasn’t been easy. At one point, I felt lost, because my strength has always been presence — direct contact. The fact that clients could see my pieces in person, touch them, feel their soul. That’s something you can’t replicate online. I went through a moment of disorientation. But then I returned to focusing on human relationships, on dialogue with architects, clients, and artisans. My work is highly customized: each piece responds to specific needs. Recently, for example, I worked on the restoration of the Teatro della Cometa in Rome. They asked me for ten sofas of the same model, but each one different — varying in height, depth, and length. That kind of work is only possible thanks to a flexible production process and artisans who follow me with dedication.
Craftsmanship is a fundamental value for you. How do you manage to combine it with serial production without compromising authenticity?
MARTA SALA:
Italian design has a unique way of blending technology and craftsmanship. There are small and medium-sized companies equipped with cutting-edge machinery—laser cutters, five-axis machines—but the pieces are still finished by hand, often by the same artisans within the company. This allows for substantial production numbers, yet with the attention to detail of a one-off. Last year, for instance, we produced between 300 and 400 pieces, all crafted with care, one by one. The real challenge lies in offering the quality of bespoke pieces, while still being able to deliver 50 chairs or ten sofas. My clients—even in the fashion world—really appreciate this tailor-made dimension. And it’s something I deeply value: it’s a unique Italian know-how that we must preserve, support, and promote, because truly no one else in the world works quite like this.
Hubert de Givenchy once said, “Luxury lies in the balance between discretion and exclusivity.” How would you define it?
MARTA SALA:
It’s interesting how in French, the word “luxe” immediately evokes elegance and excellence, while in Italian, “lusso” often carries a slightly vulgar connotation. It’s curious, really. When I talk about “luxe” in French, I rarely translate it into “lusso” in Italian—I tend to prefer other words, like “elegance.” I also like the word “distinction,” perhaps because it recalls a certain Milan of the past, but it still holds a lot of meaning for me. Elegance, quality, rigor: these are all fundamental elements. And there’s always that hidden detail, something to be discovered, that makes everything more intriguing.
Your mother, Maria Teresa Tosi, founded Azucena, and your uncle was the architect and designer Luigi Caccia Dominioni. What was it like growing up in that environment?
MARTA SALA:
It was a very lively atmosphere. Azucena was like a salon, with all kinds of people coming and going. My mother was tireless—by 8:30 in the morning she was already in the showroom because, as she said, “Men come shopping early.” And she was right: bankers and clients would come in to pick out desks and meeting tables. It was an extraordinary way of working, and it left a deep impression on me.
How has that legacy influenced the way you work?
MARTA SALA:
Ten years ago, I had the chance to start my own company. I was 47, and I wanted to shape it more as a way of life than just a job. I wanted it to be free, independent, and of course, built on hard work. I sought uniqueness. When people walk into Marta Sala Éditions, they’re often enchanted, like they’ve fallen in love with that world. And to me, it’s important to share those values through objects that enter people’s homes and daily lives. There’s almost a sense of responsibility in that: to offer a little bit of daily quality, every single day.
You live between Milan and Paris. How has Paris influenced your approach compared to the Milanese tradition?
MARTA SALA:
Italian design is rooted in individual pieces, strong concepts, and content. The French, on the other hand, are brilliant at scale and showcasing—masters at creating atmospheres and constructing entire scenes. It’s been incredibly enriching for me: I have bold pieces that can be placed in completely different contexts depending on whether I’m in Italy or France. I believe that after years of historical rivalry, Italy and France have come to realize how complementary they are. In fact, much of what’s “Made in France” is actually produced in Italy. The French are stronger in cultural communication, in building systems. But things are changing in Italy too. There’s a growing awareness of our own value—it feels like a new awakening. We’re at the dawn of a new era, and I’m very optimistic.
Is there a design object that moves you?
MARTA SALA:
Any piece that shows extraordinary craftsmanship. Like this new side table we just finished—there are 40 hours of work just in the wooden base. It looks like a Gothic cathedral. When I see pieces like that, and see what artisans are capable of, I get emotional. I think to myself, “They’re incredible.” Yes, that really moves me.
What is a designer’s greatest responsibility today, even ethically speaking?
MARTA SALA:
Time is key. We have to anticipate, but also contribute to culture. To understand the past, engage with the present, and have a vision for the future. It takes knowledge, humility, and a desire to add something meaningful. We can’t just keep repeating the same things. My uncle once said he wanted to create “objects that new generations would grow attached to.” That’s exactly what I try to do: I want my pieces to live long lives in people’s homes, to create emotional bonds. We all talk about sustainability, but putting it into practice isn’t easy. Still, part of it lies in this: creating long-lasting pieces that are passed down through generations.
Your uncle used to say, “The detail is everything: the difference between just an object and a true design piece lies in the millimeters.” Do you agree?
MARTA SALA:
Absolutely. It actually makes me smile, because I live it every day with the designers I work with—it always comes back to that: the millimeter really matters. I remember the early versions of the “Murena,” probably the most iconic piece in my collection, designed by Lazzarini & Pickering: we made them with a four-millimeter thickness… they broke. Then we tried five—still broke. Finally, we landed on six millimeters for the frame and eight for the stool. So yes, the millimeter definitely counts.
…And that attention to detail is reflected in how your pieces are finished, too?
MARTA SALA:
Of course. One of the things my uncle taught me is that if a detail is there, it has to be beautiful. That’s why all my pieces are finished on all sides: they have to look good from every angle. We live in a nomadic era—people travel, move, change homes. Furniture has to follow them, adapt. In the past, the culture of living was more rigid: there were rules for how to sit at the table, how to behave. Today, our audience is much broader, with different habits. As designers, we can’t dictate how people should use an object anymore. We can only offer quality, thoughtfulness, and beauty. Then everyone will use them in their own way.
Dialogue seems to be a key element in your philosophy.
MARTA SALA:
Yes, I believe so. In the end, everything comes down to establishing a dialogue with people. Some even go so far as to think that objects have a soul, a sort of inner life. And honestly, many objects carry strong sentimental value. The title of my first exhibition, suggested by Stefano Casciani, was “The Secret Soul of Useful Things.” A perfect title—it truly reflects my approach.
There’s always a red thread, a deep coherence. As if every object is part of a story. Don’t you think?
MARTA SALA:
Yes, probably because at some point, something within you guides all your choices. Coherence and identity are fundamental for me. When I decided to embark on this new project, I wanted it to be invulnerable. Someone might say, “I don’t like it,” but no one could ever claim that there’s no content, research, or rigor. I’m not sure if my pieces are contemporary in the same way, but I do feel they are new, different from what’s available on the market. In fact, perhaps they’re even outside of the market. Creating collections is a deliberate choice: I want to express a strong, clear identity. That’s why every year I present a collection with a theme and a title. This year, for example, I’m launching a collection called La Magie du Bois, with eight new pieces. No one else is doing anything like this. But for me, it’s a way of making culture, or at least contributing to spreading it.
Portraits and photos: Ludovica Arcero
Interview: Germano D’Acquisto
