Caitlin Boyce, Untitled, 2003, paper, polypropylene, acrylic.

Much of what you get out of an experience depends on what your expectations were and whether they were met, exceeded or left very much unsatisfied. Take for example the recent long awaited and much anticipated re-opening of Object: Australia's New Design Centre. The event itself exceed expectations, it had a red carpet ambiance despite the porta-loos and lingering building site ephemera. The champagne seemed endless and the place was packed. Object Gallery re-opened with three exhibitions: New Design 2004 (intended for the main gallery but housed in an another building to accommodate the opening night crowds), a collection of intriguing ceramics by Patsy Healy in the small mezzanine project space, and Forty a selection of work by forty NSW practitioners displayed somewhat unceremoniously in the hall way. If it was almost impossible to see the work through the crush of eager object makers trying to imagine how they would negotiate the stunning new circular space, that hardly seemed to matter, as who looks at the work at an opening anyway? Openings are for congratulating excited makers and overworked staff, for meeting and greeting and ingesting large amounts of social lubricant. There is always tomorrow or the next day to return and appreciate the work. And here is where the expectations began to fall short of the result, for an opening implies that once open it will remain so, if not forever at least for a specified amount of time. Unfortunately the openness of Object was short lived indeed. In fact it closed again the very next day due to issues related to the larger building site. These issues, if not unforeseen were it seems insurmountable, at least in the short term.

However, although it is disappointing that Object Gallery remains closed until further notice, New Design has managed to remain open in its alternative (building) site. Both Object and its temporary satellite are part of the conversion of the old St Margaret's maternity hospital, now known (according to the billboard) as 'St. Margaret's: the Urban Village'. This village is still very much a work in progress. New Design is housed in a building with a dusty concrete floor and exposed pipes overhead through which the sound of rushing water can clearly be heard. While I was in the space bemused men in hard hats wandered in, fingered the work and wandered out. This all contributed to create an atmosphere that seemed provisional and daring and this served to heighten my expectations; expectations which were initially conjured up by the title New Design.

Knowing that New Design 2004 was Object's annual selection of work by recent university graduates I expected new to mean not only freshly minted but fresh, bold, risky, surprising. But the work on display was remarkable for its sophistication and characterised by carefully planned technical virtuosity and clean commercial appeal. Not that there is anything wrong with any of that, but I came looking for the unexpected and instead I found the vaguely familiar: beautiful glass vessels clustered into still life tableaux, clever articulated neckpieces, minimalist watches, furniture so low and sleek and Modern that it would not appear out of place in a coffee table book titled '1000 Iconic Seating Solutions' or some such thing. I had come expecting the raw and was treated to the cooked.

Rohan Nicol, Tote-Bags, 2003, anodised aluminium, polymers, nylon.

And some of it was very well done indeed. Rohan Nichol's Tote-Bags are flawless. A graduate of ANU with a Bachelor of Art (Honours) in Gold and Silversmithing, Nichol is striving for perfection. Extensive experimentation and rigorous prototyping is evident in the final product, a small anodised aluminium pod with a polyurethane lid. This unisex shoulder bag is just big enough for the ubiquitous mobile phone, a pair of sunnies and a Visa. Paired down to their absolute essentials Nichol's Tote-Bags are clearly designed for production and it is not surprising that he was a winner of the Object Award for Manufacture.

This award was also given to Trent Jansen from the UNSW College of Fine Arts Design Program for his modular units titled Sign, made from retrenched street signs. I found Jansen's use of this material slightly problematic. He states that as a designer he has an interest in using sustainable resources.[1] Great idea, we need more of it. But I found myself wondering exactly how often do these signs become redundant? With their bold graphics and nifty reflective tape it is easy to see the appeal, but in terms of urban waste available for recycling there must be a much more urgent supply? Cinnamon Lee, one of the judging panel, described Sign as being 'like the new improved milk crate.'[2] Like a milk crate Jansen's units can be stacked and can serve many domestic functions: seat, table or bookcase. But unlike milk crates discarded aluminium signs don't litter every urban Australian street.

The third award winner was Danielle Saunders who trained in Fashion and Textiles at the RMIT. Saunders has utilised a variety of textiles techniques including hand knitting, machine knitting, printing, weaving and felting to create a highly textured dress she calls The Beehive. Its hexagonal panels are assembled from ecru, mustard, cream, and russet coloured fibres and are reminiscent of wallpaper from the 1970s. Nostalgic or kitsch, possibly both, The Beehive is at least stubbornly aligned with craft, the only resolutely handmade work amongst the polished offerings of New Design. It is obvious that Saunders' labour intensive garments are not really suitable for manufacture, and with this in mind it is satisfying (to me at least) that she received the Object Award for Design for Studio Based Practice as it seems to validate the handmade and to acknowledge the continued relevance of craft within the increasingly slick realm of design.

My favourite pieces didn't win anything. Caitlin Boyce, graduate of the RMIT Gold and Silversmithing degree presented an Untitled series of jewels which I liked best by far. Not because they were the most well made, innovative or even aesthetically pleasing, and not because I am a jeweller and have a soft spot for body adornment (though I do), but because they conformed most closely to my expectations of New Design. Boyce's jewellery forms, made from pale pink paper and clear acrylic, are based on the vaguely biomorphic ring shapes left by sloppy drinkers of red wine. If not exactly risky or radical at least they are irreverent. They don't take themselves too seriously, they are fresh and funny. Exactly what I went looking for.