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[title]From Recreo, a small town in Catamarca, Cristián Mohaded has been shaping a sensitive and poetic vision that now shines in the world’s design capitals. He was the first Argentine to present a collection for Louis Vuitton, and his pieces—between the artisanal and the contemporary—embody an identity deeply rooted in the landscape, traditions, and intuition. His work is a bridge between memory and matter, between what shaped him and what projects him into the world.
Recreo, Catamarca, always comes up in your stories. What remains in you from that child who grew up there? How do you think that environment, that childhood, still influences your perspective as a designer today?
Yes, I think childhood leaves a strong mark on us: the context we grew up in, the everyday activities. Recreo is a small town, there wasn’t much to do, so you had to entertain yourself with what was at hand. For me, afternoons were very creative: I would paint, draw. I would make things intuitively, because I constantly needed to put my creativity into action.
Beyond my town, my province, and my country—which I love—they are strongly reflected in my work. Since I was a child, I liked crafts: the baskets in my house, handmade objects. As a kid, I loved making things, and at school too—I did the stage sets for school events, the signs… I always had this drive to propose myself for things.
"My province and my country are strongly reflected in my work"
You were the first Argentine to design a collection for Louis Vuitton and worked with iconic brands such as Roche Bobois. What do you feel sets Argentine design apart—or your own identity as an Argentine designer—on those international stages?
I don’t know if I can speak for Argentine design as a whole, but I can talk about my work, about how I think it stands out and resonates with other brands. I think foreign brands are looking for new perspectives: from Latin American designers, from other continents beyond Europe. And there’s something important I always say: one must be very true and honest with their work. I carry it in my blood, it’s in my DNA, I can’t go against what I am. That’s part of my vision.
"One must be very true and honest with their work"
I also always say that one must look around, look at what surrounds and embraces them, and start working from there. Only then, yes, start looking outward. We’re used to doing the opposite: looking outside and trying to make that happen here. I try to do the opposite. First, I look here, and then I try for that to be seen abroad. I think that’s what is most visible in my work, and why these brands also see something different and approach me.
"First I look at what is happening in Argentina, and then I try for that to be seen abroad"
Your pieces feel sculptural, almost poetic. What is your creative process like? What inspires you first: the material, the form, or the story you want to tell?
Each project has its own formula. Each company, each thing one makes, begins from a different place. Sometimes it can be a landscape, a material, something I noticed in a company that caught my eye. It can be a story, especially in projects more connected with crafts. You have to remain free in that. I don’t believe much in design programs or overly directed approaches. I think part of what I’m learning is to listen to myself, to be intuitive. That’s one of the traits I most identify with. I have a highly developed intuition, and I let myself be guided by it. That’s what makes projects authentic. Some may like it, others not, but it’s what comes naturally to me, what I feel works.
I also try to understand where I’m standing, who I’m designing for, and why, so that I can respond to that. And sometimes, it’s simply ideas in my head that lead me to explore them until they eventually become projects. Sometimes years go by between an idea, a concept, a narrative… and then suddenly they resurface, and I have all the tools to bring them to life.
I trained as an industrial designer at the National University of Córdoba, but I also have this more artistic, more poetic vision. I think that combination gives different results. It also relates to what I lived: my grandmother painted, my mother did crafts… I was always drawn to that. At first, I wanted to be an artist. Becoming a designer happened by chance. It crossed my path, and I chose it because I liked drawing and felt it could be creative. That’s how I trained, but in my mind and body, everything is one—it mixes, it blends. That blend, in a way, enriches the content.
Nature and landscape seem to play a central role in your work. Is there a conscious search to connect the artisanal and the contemporary? How do you balance those two dimensions in your designs?
Regarding the artisanal and the contemporary, I also feel that as a culture we often lose our way. We love craftsmanship, but I don’t think we always give it the value it deserves. We need to be more aware of the effort and knowledge behind it. I deeply value craftsmanship, and I try, on some occasions, to break a bit with the traditional dynamic, always respecting the people I work with. I seek another place for craftsmanship—not of “greater value,” because it already has value, and it would be disrespectful to say otherwise. It’s about finding another place.
I think having been trained as a designer, and having this artistic vision that is truly present in my projects, allows this triangle, this mix of knowledge, to take shape in a contemporary world that is looking for other things. That’s where I try to bring it.
It also matters to me to address these topics because I feel we are drifting further away, paying less attention. And I think that’s one of our greatest strengths. We just need to know how to work with what we have.
Is there a dream you still wish to fulfill? A project, collaboration, or material you haven’t worked with yet but would like to explore?
The truth is, I don’t think about that too much. I feel that life and my professional career have carried me along, placing me in different spaces of growth and learning. Every day I learn something new. I’m not searching for one specific dream. Obviously, one wants to sustain what one does, to grow, to be more. I think that’s the dream: to be more, to sustain this. Because a designer’s career is difficult—it takes a lot of time, a lot of effort. Every day you have to keep paddling and putting in energy. So maybe my dream is simply to keep working, to continue showing my vision, and for it to become increasingly visible, so I can share everything I carry inside. For that to reach others.
Do you have any references, within or outside the world of design, that have especially influenced your path?
Yes. In terms of design, the Campana brothers are artists, creators, creatives who inspired me a lot. They showed me that design has so much to say, to tell, to explore, beyond industry. And that’s something I always questioned.
On a national level, I greatly admire the work of Alejandro Sarmiento, Diana Cabeza, and Ricardo Blanco. For me, they had a very interesting impact. I used to go listen to them when they gave lectures at the university. I was drawn not just by what they made, but how they thought.
And, among designers with long careers, I admire Patricia Urquiola and Gaetano Pesce, who explore form, material, and color in ways I find fascinating. In the art world, I like Lucio Fontana and Donald Judd, who have a more minimalist vision that also attracts me a lot.
Quick Word Ping-Pong
Buenos Aires in one word: Beautiful
Recreo, Catamarca, in one word: Peace
A place in the city that inspires you: The countryside
City or nature? Nature
An object you love: A sketchbook
A food that takes you back to childhood: Breaded cutlets with mashed potatoes
Your happy place: My home