Hundreds of millions of plastic utensils end up in landfills every year, each with a design as bland as the food it once served. Engineers have concocted biodegradable plastics made from plants to counter the environmental impact, but rely on the same tired design recipes. These eco-plastics have gotten so good it’s often hard to distinguish what objects belong in the trash bin versus the compost heap. Chinese designer Qiyun Deng believes that these Earth-friendly wonder materials should be celebrated and developed into a line of disposable cutlery inspired by, and made from, corn.
Her collection of bioplastic spoons, forks, and knives pay homage to their agrarian origins—celery stalks are transformed into forks, corn husks become knives, and a baby carrot inspired a spoon for babies. The collection, called Graft, brings a heaping helping of style, and a touch of surrealism, to a category dominated by single-use sporks. Deng has transformed a thoroughly disposable object into a conversation starter, with the added benefit of actually telling a story of the product’s origins.
“It’s a beautiful material that deserves design attention, not only moral exhortation.”
Deng began her design career working in Guangdong, China, sometimes referred to as the “World’s Factory,” and was inspired by the bustling city while simultaneously being underwhelmed by the cheap products emanating from its factories. “I believe in mass-production, but always try to give it some richness,” she says. “That explains why I chose to work with disposable products. We own the greatest number of these, but they are the most charmless.”
She moved to Switzerland to earn a master’s degree in product design and started poking around in search of objects that needed improvement. She quickly realized cutlery was in need of a rethink and arrived at the notion of combining fresh produce and mass production. She also wanted to approach bioplastics in a different way than most of her peers. “I would love to introduce bioplastic to people without telling them by words,” says Deng. “It’s a beautiful material that deserves design attention, not only moral exhortation.”
The collection owes its name to Deng’s design process. Each utensil is a fusion of natural and handcrafted elements—handles were cast using real vegetables and the fork’s tines, the serrated knife edge, and the cup of the spoon were modeled in CAD software. Molded vegetables were grafted onto the 3-D printed elements and the new cutlery concept was born.
These prototypes are actually made of traditional petroleum-based plastics, but Deng feels confident that the concepts will translate to environmentally friendly resins. The only remaining challenge is producing injection-molded parts that feature gradual color transitions, an important consideration in creating a passable celery simulacra, and Deng has identified a factory that perfected the technique, coincidentally by manufacturing fake flowers and fruit.
Her products have an arty feel, but Deng hopes to find a business partner who can help keep the cost low and make her designs available to everyone. “My intention is to make them available in stores that everyone can purchase for their picnic or family event,” she says. “There are so many memorable moments you don’t want to ruin with the sad white forks.”
