We went to meet Kristian Gavoille, Ardi's former artistic director. His eclectic career tells a particular story about design — one that shaped the maison.
His studio occupies the ground floor of a cobbled courtyard in Paris's 11th arrondissement. Kristian greets us in shorts and a t-shirt, his hair tousled — it's an especially hot day. Around him, furniture, prototypes, photographs, books, materials, mementos from various projects, and objects gathered over the years pile up. The space resembles its owner: curious, instinctive, abundant.

Portrait of Kristian Gavoille and his dog Gaga.
A design maverick, an architect by training, a photographer by passion, Kristian Gavoille graduated from the Toulouse School of Architecture. In the early 1990s, as a close collaborator of Philippe Starck – with whom he would work for more than five years –, Kristian met Anne-Marie and Olivier Nicol, who had just taken over the Dacheville Nicol aluminum foundry (founded in 1950 by Pierre Dacheville). The connection was immediate.
The Nicols were as mismatched – he stood 1.90 m tall, she 1.58 m – as they were united and driven. In creating Ardi, they sought to give their business new momentum while preserving the industrial heritage and craftsmanship they were entrusted with.

Visit to Kristian Gavoille's studio in June 2026 — a few Ardi objects still sitting on the shelf.
Ardi, a creative space where anything is possible.
Kristian recalls: « Olivier was an extraordinary mechanic, a real tinkering genius. He had big hands that, remarkably, could make anything! When he and Anne-Marie decided to create Ardi, it was above all to give young designers a space where anything was possible. Because Olivier never said no. He'd tinker, test, and start over until he found the solution. » Drawn in by this artisanal creative energy, Kristian accepted the artistic direction of Ardi without hesitation, alongside his work with Philippe Starck.
He gets up to fetch a few Ardi-stamped objects. A trivet shaped like a large X, minimal. Magnificent, sculptural door handles. And Jojo, the bottle opener, originally developed for Kronenbourg's 1664 beer, which he would later publish for Ardi. « An object of apparent simplicity, but one whose design gave us real trouble. The first Jojos, made entirely of aluminum, couldn't withstand the pressure of the bottle caps; we had to add a tiny steel 'tooth' to reinforce the structure. A challenge Olivier rose to, of course! » This cheerful, potbellied silhouette (Jojo takes the shape of a jovial little man leaning on a café counter) is the perfect symbol of Ardi's DNA: designing objects that are « both useful and offbeat, meant to occupy space. »


The craftsman's hand.
Kristian runs his hand over the objects to show us their texture and familiarize us with the particularities of aluminum. « Aluminum is the hand of man. »
A favorite of designers in the 1960s, this mineral, natural material came back into the spotlight in the 1990s, at a time when design was breaking free of pure utility and creators were becoming bolder, even irreverent. Recyclable, malleable, and light, it offers a freedom of form that other metals don't allow, and pairs especially well with wood, steel, or ceramic. « With Ardi, we offered young, emerging designers a space to create without limits. A chance to express their talent with total freedom. Small runs, cast, unmolded, then hand-polished by demanding artisans who loved their craft. »
Unlike pressure-die foundries, the Dacheville Nicol foundry works by gravity casting — meaning the molten aluminum is ladled by hand into reusable molds. A technique that allows for all kinds of extravagance and makes small production runs possible.


An impertinent design, far from the codes of simple utility.
Kristian and Anne-Marie chose the designers together; more than twenty would take part in the Ardi adventure. « We dared everything, we refused nothing. Young designers – and not-so-young ones – came to us in numbers, drawn by the experimental space we offered them. »
Ardi went on to publish pieces designed by Ronan Bouroullec (then a student of Kristian Gavoille), Éric Jourdan, Martin Szekely, Pucci de Rossi… soon followed by a few manufacturers, such as Ligne Roset, eager to offer pieces that were more aesthetic and less conventional.
The adventure resumes…
Kristian seems nostalgic for a time when profitability wasn't the sole concern of creators and publishing houses. A « free and slightly punk » era, when people gave themselves the means to create without expecting profit or recognition in return. For the beauty of the gesture, for a certain kind of insolence or irony, or simply because something was graceful, unusual, amusing, or striking.
Thirty years later, it is Elie Fazel and Samuel Perhirin who have taken over Ardi — and with it, this legacy. Contacted by the duo, Kristian admits he was both intrigued and admiring to see them take on this history with as much energy as respect for what came before. « I was happy that the innovative, free spirit that drove us back then appealed to young, contemporary creators. In our societies, so codified, so uniform, it's good that vintage is coming back into the spotlight, and with it, its offbeat objects. »


Kristian approves of the selection of reissued objects and seems flattered that his creations are finding new life. « I can't wait for my Tour Prend Garde ("Watchtower" — a pun on "tu prends garde," meaning "watch out" or "beware"; Ed. note: an ashtray shaped like a castle tower, symbolizing a high wall erected between him and cigarettes) to sit once again on coffee tables! When I look again at Éric Jourdan's carafe, Ronan Bouroullec's pot, or Pucci de Rossi's stunning candelabra, I think we really did have quite a bit of humor and style! »
Convinced that Ardi's place is also alongside contemporary designers, he hopes this talented young generation will have as much pleasure « enjoying the freedom that was given to us back then ». A spirit that Elie and Samuel now carry forward, in their own way.
