Donald Judd's Furniture: Is Minimalist Design Hiding a Secret?

Donald Judd, the celebrated minimalist artist, held a particular pet peeve: materials pretending to be something they weren’t. Forget fancy veneers or faux finishes. He was famously critical of fiberglass trying to imitate stone. As his son, Flavin Judd, recalls, his father's thinking was remarkably straightforward: "Why not just let it be fiberglass? Fiberglass is already a material. Why not use it like that?" And honestly, it's a fair question.

Donald Judd's Furniture: Is Minimalist Design Hidi...

This dedication to material honesty, according to Flavin, wasn't just some artistic whim. It was rooted in Judd's philosophical background and his Midwestern upbringing, where plain speaking and a distinct lack of pretense were highly valued. Flavin, who now serves as the artistic director of the Judd Foundation, put it rather succinctly: "There's already so much mendacity and lying in the world. Why would you add to that?"

This concept of material clarity – art as a "thing that is available to you immediately" – became central to Judd’s artistic identity. He began as a painter, but soon transitioned to creating three-dimensional forms. Think stacked rectangular units, often in steel or concrete, that occupied space with a stark, undeniable presence. These works had no hidden meanings, no metaphors lurking beneath the surface – just their raw, unadulterated existence. It's this radical approach that cemented his position as a major figure in postwar minimalism, although he himself actively resisted the label. You know, artists and labels – always a complicated relationship.

Regardless of what you call it, Judd's pieces speak for themselves. And this design philosophy extends directly into his furniture, which is now the focus of its first major Korean exhibition, aptly titled "Donald Judd: Furniture," at Storage by Hyundai Card in Seoul.

Flavin explained that his father’s foray into furniture design was driven by both practical needs and a burgeoning creative impulse. While Judd initially designed a bed and sinks for his New York studio back in the early 1970s, the project really took off after the family relocated to Marfa, Texas, in 1977. I've been to Marfa. The stark landscape and open spaces there definitely seem like they’d fuel this kind of straightforward aesthetic.

The exhibition features 38 pieces of furniture created between the 1970s and 1990s, accompanied by a curated selection of silkscreen prints and woodcuts. Also on display are Judd’s furniture drawings, which, rather than being artistic renderings, more closely resemble detailed instructions – almost like a minimalist IKEA manual. It's fitting, I suppose.

Perhaps the biggest irony of the exhibition is that, despite Judd’s unwavering focus on functionality and the immediate tangibility of his furniture, the pieces are strictly off-limits. "Any exhibition of furniture is slightly misleading," Flavin observed wryly. "The function of a gallery is to show you things you can't touch, but that's misleading because you're supposed to sit on it. It's furniture." A good point, well made! If you want to contemplate some untouchable, yet undeniably functional art, "Donald Judd: Furniture" is on view at Storage by Hyundai Card through April 26, 2026.