The making renaissance

Australia has no shortage of design awards, but the Rigg Design Prize—presented triennially by the National Gallery of Victoria (NGV) since 1994—stands apart as the nation’s foremost contemporary design award from a public cultural institution. Now the oldest national design prize run by a state gallery, the invitational program has elevated hundreds of designers over three decades, including 2009 winner Simone LeAmon, curator of contemporary design and architecture at NGV, who has overseen the award since 2015.

LeAmon believes the Rigg Design Prize is especially pertinent in the current landscape, where creatives are contending with escalating economic pressures and the disruptive rise of artificial intelligence. The exhibition’s 2025 theme, Next in Design, stands almost in defiance—spotlighting early career practitioners under the age of 35 who are mastering human craftsmanship across ceramics, glass, furniture, lighting, jewellery and object design.

Adelaide-based Aranda artist Alfred Lowe was named this year’s winner of the $40,000 prize, with his ambitious ceramic vessels You and me, us never part (2025) unanimously selected by the jury. The work comprises two large-scale figurative ceramics combining rigid clay with soft raffia adornments, exploring themes of beauty, community and Country through contrasting materials. The prize was adjudicated by a jury of leading industry experts and past winners, who praised Lowe’s work for its “ambitious scale and emotional resonance.”

Now more than ever, LeAmon says, emerging creatives are reliant on industry support. “In the history of the Rigg, this is unique,” she says of the approach to this year’s selection. Rather than focusing on established and mid-career designers, as it has traditionally done, “We’ve flipped it to look at practitioners within the first decade of their career,” she explains. The result is a compelling survey of raw talent and unbridled ambition— and a vital launchpad for Australia’s next generation of makers.

Each edition of the Rigg Design Prize explores different creative territories, from focused examinations of textiles and seating to broader investigations of spatial design and visual communication. Its tenth outing sees a return to the program’s roots in honour of its benefactor, Colin G. Rigg (1895-1982), who was deeply passionate about decorative arts and craft disciplines, and helped acquire works for the NGV as secretary of The Felton Bequests’ committee.

Next in Design continues Rigg’s legacy, while celebrating makers committed to material practice. “At a time when conversations around digital and AI are all-pervasive, this [approach] provides us an opportunity to reflect and encounter work that is produced through incredible, deep, tacit knowledge which is gained through working with material,” LeAmon explains.

Despite their diverse practices and origins, this year’s finalists share a common thread: an experimental curiosity toward traditional materials and methods, filtering centuries of craft knowledge through a contemporary sensibility. “We’re looking at work that could only be made in the 21st century,” says LeAmon. “These practitioners are reflecting on everything that’s been designed and made in the past, and they’re choosing what to place emphasis on.”

Alfred Lowe
Winner
South Australia

Working from APY Studio in Adelaide, Arrernte artist Alfred Lowe creates distinctive large-scale ceramics— typically around 1.5m tall—adorned with woven raffia pieces. His clay of choice is coarse-textured Buff Raku Trachyte, which imparts small cracks and rough edges reminiscent of the natural rock formations where he grew up in Central Australia. “These beautiful mountains stand strong and comfortable in their own skin,” Lowe explains. “Much of [their] beauty comes from erosion and scars, and this is a theme I explore a lot in my work: perfection in imperfection.” His winning Rigg commission took around three months to create, including nine days of building and decorating, and up to three days of weaving.

The resulting works demand attention with their vibrant colour and sheer scale. “I want my work to draw in the oxygen around it and be noticed. I want it to be bold and brave,” he says—an unapologetic vision that speaks to a spirit of experimentation and fearless authenticity.

Alfred Lowe, You and Me, Us Never, Part I, 2025. Image: heyandy

Douglas Powell
(Duzi Objects)
Western Australia

Duzi Objects is the furniture and object studio of Douglas Powell, who grew up in Zimbabwe and trained in the UK, before moving to Perth, Western Australia, where he transforms industrial hydroforming into sculptural art. In Powell’s hands, the utilitarian process—typically used to inflate flat sheets under pressure for engineering purposes—is subverted to create one-of-a-kind vases, lamps, mirrors and armchairs from stainless steel, aluminium and brass.

“The greatest challenge is also the essence of the practice; allowing a process normally associated with industrial precision to find new life through loosened control,” Powell explains. “After all the preparation is done, the final act belongs to the material and the process.” Powell’s surrender to material unpredictability embodies the exhibition’s argument for the enduring relevance of the handmade.

Duzi Objects, Mbosho table, Luva chair, Physalia vase, 2025. Image: Dylan Le’mon

Marcel
Hoogstad Hay
South Australia

Marcel Hoogstad Hay creates blown glass sculptures that appear as metal through their mirrored surfaces, resulting in patterned reflections that inspire his broader practice. “I’m interested in the ways people perceive the world—our perceptions of space, time and matter—and how these notions relate to physics,” he explains. “When I’m designing my works, I’m thinking about both astronomical and quantum scales. I am in total awe of the sublime vastness of things happening at those scales.”

An artistic childhood encouraged Hoogstad Hay’s early interest in glass, cemented by his training at the acclaimed JamFactory in Adelaide and international residencies.

He now creates large-scale pieces using traditional Venetian techniques to introduce pattern and linework, finished with a silver solution. This fusion of ancient glassmaking methods with contemporary conceptual inquiry exemplifies how traditional craft can explore the most fundamental questions about our universe.

Marcel Hoogstad Hay, Celestial glass sculpture, 2025. Image: Pippy Mount.

Kohl
Tyler
Victoria

New Zealand-born Kohl Tyler spent seven years painting botanical subjects before transitioning to ceramics upon moving to Melbourne. Her sculptural vessels emerge from slab building, coiling and carving techniques, with bands of clay layered like geological strata to create deliberately weighted, undulating forms.

Tyler’s practice draws inspiration from flora, fossils, and skeletal structures, resulting in what she describes as “seemingly nebulous non-human lifeforms.” Her vessels are finished with matte white glaze and fired at temperatures up to 1280°C—a process that encourages dramatic movement during firing. The extreme heat creates cascading effects where glaze pools into shimmering white spills while exposing the buff stoneware clay beneath, revealing intricate carved textures. Tyler embraces this uncertainty, explaining: “My process intentionally pushes the material during the firing process, welcoming movement, dynamism, and yielding forms that speak to the natural.”

Kohl Tyler, Esse II sculptural vessel, 2025. Image: Felix Adsett.

Marlo
Lyda
New South Wales

Working across furniture and lighting, Sydney maker-designer Marlo Lyda finds hidden beauty in discarded materials. Building on her work shown at Melbourne Design Week this year, Lyda has turned her attention to lighting for her Rigg Design Prize entry. Collectively titled Kin, her series of three lamps honours the women in her family, with each size representing different generations. The largest features re-dyed lace saved from Lyda’s late grandmother, a seamstress. The second incorporates velvet ribbon referencing her mother’s work as a costume designer, while the smallest represents Lyda herself, adorned with buttons reflecting her personal obsession. “This is the first time I’ve united my upbringing with the design practice that I’ve been cultivating,” she explains.

The shades and tiered metal bases are clad in deadstock cotton. Lyda first stripped the original pastel colours from the fabric, then re-dyed in hues of aubergine and burnt orange. The resulting trio’s softly tilted heads lend tender poise, as if paused in conversation. Intuitive and beautifully unresolved, each piece is tailored not to sameness, but to difference.

Marlo Lyda, Kin lamps, 2025.