Today Charles and Ray Eames are heralded as the most influential couple in the architecture and design world. Professionally speaking, they were a perfect pairing: Charles took the lead when it came to form and functionality, and Ray was the virtuoso who was in charge of character and colour, although it is difficult to define exactly who was responsible for what. Time magazine praised their LCW chair as chair of the century, and the Washington post said their work ‘changed the way the 20th century sat down.’ They weren’t always heralded as the biggest powerhouse couple of the design world, in fact, many even mistakenly labelled Ray as Charles’ brother at the time.
Ray and her work fell victim to the casual sexism mindset of the time. She was once introduced on national television as the ‘able-woman’ behind the successful man, despite Charles best efforts to politely explain that she was just as responsible for the world-changing designs as he was. He said that ‘she has a very good sense of what gives a piece of sculpture it’s character, of how it’s relationships are formed’ and much else besides, never belittling her contribution the way many onlookers did. Pat Kirkham interviewed Ray five years before her death in 1983 (five years after Charles death), an interview which disclosed that Ray ‘…(partly) enjoyed playing the wife behind the great genius, while another part of (her) craved recognition in her own right.’ During the conversation she is painted as atypically humble regarding her input to the Eames office and someone who would never have taken the spotlight from Charles, simply out of adoration for her husband. It’s brilliant that today Charles is seldom mentioned without also mentioning Ray, and that they are commended as a couple. Nevertheless, it doesn’t always work out so nicely. Closer to home, parallels can be drawn to Charles Rennie Mackintosh and Margaret Macdonald Mackintosh’s collaborative career.
Like Charles Eames, C. R. Mackintosh was embarrassed by the way his wife Margaret was represented within their design partnership. Her work, like Ray’s, was similarly disparaged by critics who may have had less respect due to the fact it was decorative, and so too portrayed her as the wife behind the successful man. C. R. Mackintosh was all too aware of this and, like Charles Eames, repeatedly and politely acknowledged that any work that was wrongly attributed mainly to him was in fact a collaboration, noting that ‘Margaret has genius, I have mere talent.’
The Eames duo undoubtedly earned their place in history. Ray’s input at the Eames office is arguably how their collective output developed the recognisable characteristics that have taken the world by storm since, and a fine example of why there is no place for sexism in design.
LWS Design Blog 