Behind the swoosh – Nike’s legacy

With Nike: Form Follows Motion, curator Glenn Adamson opens the vaults of Nike’s elusive design archives, offering a never-before-seen exploration of the brand’s five decades of innovation. Adamson turns this exhibition into more than just a celebration of sneakers – it’s a deep dive into the DNA of a brand that’s shaped everything from streetwear to social justice movements. As visitors walk through the exhibition, they’ll trace Nike’s journey from Bill Bowerman’s waffle iron to groundbreaking collaborations with the likes of Virgil Abloh and Comme des Garçons. It’s Nike as you’ve never seen it before: not just as a sports giant, but as a cultural force that continues to push the boundaries of design, technology, and identity.

hube: Nike: Form Follows Motion is the first major museum exhibition dedicated to Nike’s design legacy. What inspired you to take on this project, and how do you think it will impact the public’s perception of sports design?

Glenn Adamson: Nike did celebrate its 50th anniversary recently, in 2022. After this half-century of innovation, it seems like an appropriate time to take stock of its history, and especially the role of design in shaping its identity. The team at the Vitra Design Museum felt that this year would be a good time to stage the show, just following the Olympics and the football Euros – Nike and sport have been so much in the news. It is a great opportunity to give people an in-depth view of how the footwear and garments they see on screen are actually created.

h: The exhibition explores Nike’s influence on both design and popular culture over the past five decades. How has Nike navigated the balance between innovation and maintaining its core identity?

GA: That’s an interesting way of putting it because it makes me realise that Nike’s core identity actually is innovation. Since their early years, when co-founder Bill Bowerman relentlessly experimented with handmade prototypes for his own runners at the University of Oregon, they have been focused on technical optimisation. And already in the 1970s – and really taking off in the next decade, with the signing of Michael Jordan and other star athletes to endorsement deals – they have been equally focused on constant, experimental engagement with street style. Indeed, some classics like the Air Force 1 and Air Max are now part of the design history canon, but even these are revisited again and again, sometimes through collaborations with external voices like Comme des Garçons and Virgil Abloh. So those shoes become a platform for new ideas. I suppose this permanent focus on the new is what has allowed Nike to maintain its influential position in popular culture.

h: This exhibition also touches on Nike’s role in advancing social change, particularly in terms of gender roles and diversity. How have Nike’s designs both reflected and influenced these societal shifts?

GA: That’s right, we look at various aspects of the company’s engagement on these topics – for example, Nike’s unusually activist position concerning inclusivity, exemplified by their backing of Colin Kaepernick when he began his National Anthem protest. The story of women at Nike is a particularly fascinating and little-known story. While the company was quite a male-dominated organisation in its first couple of decades – as it had evolved from a men’s track team and was very embedded in that subculture – there were key contributions from women even in the early years. The Swoosh was designed by Carolyn Davidson in 1972, and a few years later Diane Katz arrived at the company, revolutionising its approach to apparel. (She was the first professionally trained designer to work at Nike.) The company also had important endorsement relationships with female athletes including the Tennessee State Tigerbelles relay team, Mary Decker, and Joan Benoit. In later years, Nike became more explicitly feminist in its messaging, through ad campaigns like If You Let Me Play, and more recently they have worked to make sport more available to Muslim athletes who observe modest dress.

h: In the context of ‘craft in the digital age’, how do you see traditional craft practices evolving alongside technological advancements? Are we moving towards a harmonious integration or a complete transformation?

GA: Probably some of both, but I feel that integration is really the key. Most of the designers and makers that I know are not intimidated by artificial intelligence and digital fabrication techniques, but rather see them as useful expansions to the existing ‘analogue’ toolkit. Having said this, I myself believe that human beings will always be interested mainly in what we ourselves can achieve, rather than what technologies can on their own (most of us don’t sit and watch computers play chess against each other, or in simulated athletic contests). I think the same is going to be true for art and design: to the extent that creativity remains grounded in people as individuals and communities, it will remain vital and relatable.

h: The future of design seems to be leaning heavily towards sustainability and ethical production. What do you think are the most pressing challenges and opportunities for designers in this new landscape?

GA: I agree with that, and it poses a special problem in design: if the world is full, why keep making things at all? Against this, we might place a thought that the designer Joris Laarman once made when asked why he kept making new chairs: ‘That’s like asking a singer why they keep writing new songs’. In other words, every generation should have the chance to define and reinvent its own material environment. This is one way to frame the challenge of climate change: not just how do we reduce the harm we’re inflicting upon the planet, but how do we leave creative space for others who will come after us?

h: Personal influences often shape a curator’s approach to exhibitions. Could you share some of the key influences – whether artists, movements, or ideas – that have significantly shaped your own perspective on design and craft?

GA: My own ‘origin story’ – if I can put it that way – goes back to a college seminar where I had the opportunity to handle some ceramics from Tang Dynasty China – about 1,000 years ago. I remember there was one ‘three-colour’ dish that made a huge impression on me because its underside had the fingerprints of the potter who had made it. I could put my fingers in the same spots, almost feel the pressure that had been applied to the wet clay so long ago. Suddenly, this historically remote thing felt alive. I often think that my whole career has been an attempt to live up to the promise of that moment, the opportunity to connect across time and space through craft and design.

h: Given your extensive experience in the field, what do you believe are the most effective ways museums can engage with younger, more digitally savvy audiences?

GA: I’ll answer these two questions together as they seem to overlap. Given my strong investment in craft – including its role in activating art and design – it may not surprise you that I think of museums in part as refuges from the digital. They are places we can go to encounter real objects in real space, with all the aesthetic qualities that experience offers. This said, I do think that just as creative practice can bridge the analogue and the virtual, the same is true for museums. It’s a matter of remembering, first, that the museum should always be a unique place – not a site to reproduce the kinds of experience visitors can have through their own devices, or at a movie theatre – but also to imaginatively create space around physical artefacts, so they can weave their magic.

h: In your opinion, how can museums balance the need to preserve and showcase historical design achievements while also promoting contemporary and future-oriented design practices?

GA: I certainly don’t think of these two objectives as opposed – my favourite museums, like the V&A (where I worked from 2005 to 2013), the Museum of Arts and Design (where I was director from 2013 to 2016), and of course, Vitra Design Museum, do both of these things. Ideally, history informs the contemporary and vice versa. I suppose there can be a tension between the scholarly aspect of museums and the ‘spectacle’ that we often try to achieve, in the hope of attracting and engaging the widest possible audiences. For me, the main challenge of curating today is to make these two aspects of an exhibition cohere, so that dramatic gestures are not just anchored in rigorous research but also really help tell the story. This is what we’ve tried to do in Nike: Form Follows Motion, with the help of our exhibition designer Jayden Ali and his team, as well as our graphic designer Daniel Streat. So much of the success of a project like this is down to the generative conversations you have with collaborators like them and within the museum itself.

h: As someone deeply involved in the intersection of craft, design, and curation, what keeps you passionate and motivated in this field? Are there any particular projects or ideas you are excited to explore in the near future?

GA: As my story of the Chinese dish may suggest, for me it’s the new encounters I get to have with objects – including at museums, in studio visits, and most recently in the Nike archive – that keep me motivated. One of the best experiences I’ve had in my career has been my role as Artistic Director of Design Doha, the new biennial event in Qatar. It is an amazing event because it gathers together designers from across the Middle East and North Africa. This is not a part of the world I’d known much about until recently, and I think that is true for a lot of people in the USA and Europe. But it’s an incredibly dynamic design scene, not least because of strong cultural craft resources. So this has been an amazing learning curve for me, and hopefully, Design Doha will continue to grow into the future as a convening platform.

My next project with the Vitra Design Museum will be a retrospective exhibition about Hella Jongerius, the leading Dutch designer. Over four decades, she has helped to redefine the discipline by always considering it from both an aesthetic and ethical point of view. It’s a chance to explore her process-driven, research-intensive practice and to dive into a whole sea of objects, explore, and create a meaningful narrative. What could be better than that?