In many different parts of the world modern furniture elements have served as material expressions of power in the post-war era. They were often meant to express an international and in some respects apolitical modern language, but when placed in a sensitive setting or a meaningful architectural context, they were highly capable of negotiating or manipulating ideological messages. The agency of modern furniture was often less overt than that of political slogans or statements, but as the chapters in this book reveal, it had the potential of becoming a persuasive and malleable ally in very diverse politically charged arenas, including embassies, governmental ministries, showrooms, exhibitions, design schools, libraries, museums and even prisons. This collection of chapters examines the consolidating as well as the disrupting force of modern furniture in the global context between 1945 and the mid-1970s. The volume shows that key to understanding this phenomenon is the study of the national as well as transnational systems through which it was launched, promoted and received. While some chapters squarely focus on individual furniture elements as vehicles communicating political and social meaning, others consider the role of furniture within potent sites that demand careful negotiation, whether between governments, cultures, or buyer and seller. In doing so, the book explicitly engages different scholarly fields: design history, history of interior architecture, architectural history, cultural history, diplomatic and political history, postcolonial studies, tourism studies, material culture studies, furniture history, and heritage and preservation studies. Taken together, the narratives and case studies compiled in this volume offer a better understanding of the political agency of post-war modern furniture in its original historical context. At the same time, they will enrich current debates on reuse, relocation or reproduction of some of these elements.

This is the story of Arnie Duffield, who arrived at Thursday Island, in Torres Strait, the Northern tip of Australia, aged ten, in 1936 - beginning a life-time of adventure. His father worked on the famous sailing luggers, diving boats that harvested pearl shells and pearls for over 100 years up to 1980. Arnie with his father and brother, with their own hands would build their own flotilla of luggers, to operate as a family company over eventful decades: seeing the Great Depression, war and the immediate threat of invasion, a post-war boom in the region, the loss of divers and constant striving for safety at sea, failures of an industry, mounting threats to the environment. For ten years he managed an innovative project cultivating pearls for jewellery, a change from selling shells, the `mother of pearl' used for buttons and ornamentation. The tropical life provided excitement, stimulus, dangers; material for yarns, about crocodiles or sharks, drunks, bad weather at sea, a near-drowning, a mercy dash in a fast boat to save a downed pilot, and a few close shaves on bush air-strips. Arnie became a leading personality in this world, a humourist and practitioner of the wisecrack, always quick with a come-back. From childhood days observing the hectic life of the far-away little port at Thursday Island, Waiben under its traditional name; then working as a young man, repairing warships, and operating the family-owned boats, he became, he would proudly state, a master mariner and proficient ship engineer. He would revel in the island life, enjoying great freedom, getting successes and hard blows; in private life, marrying, starting a family, experiencing the stresses and joys. At 95 he is known as the “last man standing” from days when the fleet would depart under sail.

These essays draw upon an extensive, widely dispersed body of information to narrate stories of the Asian diaspora communities of Torres Strait, north Queensland.

Commercial pearl fishing in Australian waters.