Bridges and Walls

And so my trip began: “To the left, phones off.” Then through a metal detector. “To the right, show your documents, get a number, find a seat, wait.” Then to the visa office, the Chinese Consulate in New York City. We all crowded into a small room. Numbers flashed above … I waited.

I was directed into close quarters with folks of many backgrounds. Brunettes, black hair, blonde and redheads, cropped, long or gray; buzz-cut, bald and even dreads. Asian, Caucasian, black, and others. Bearded and not, tattooed and pierced. They all wanted to go from here to there. I wanted to use my phone but was told I could not. It was OK; I prefer using my pen. The intermingling sounds of Chinese, Mandarin, Cantonese, and even Taishan, added texture and depth to an otherwise dismal place. A journey begins with a single step.

My number is C188. A long way to go, and they’re only up to C109. Albeit slowly, the numbers move; every journey begins with a single step.

Some sleep and some sigh with furrowed brows. Children cry, play, run and skip; it’s only time that etches lines across a pallid face. She’s five, maybe six, and she parades around as though the place were hers. Number C142 is called, we’re ebbing forward. It’s been so long, I’m beginning to understand Mandarin.

With apologies once more to Jack Kerouac, “I’m on the Road Again.” These days, we in retail design seem to travel across the world as our parents use to travel from the Bronx to Brooklyn. (Of course in those days, Brooklyn was every bit a foreign country.)

This time, I was off to Hong Kong and then further to mainland China. Hong Kong is a bustling and exciting city, and China is a beautiful study in contrast. After several days in Hong Kong, I showed my travel documents and then boarded the train at Hung Hom Railway Station bound for Guangzhou, China. I brought kiwi juice and egg custard – the kind you buy from the street – to sustain me on the two-hour-and-15-minute journey. A light rain was falling as I left Hong Kong behind. It was late spring, and change was definitely in the air. It wasn’t until I saw a field of oxen beside a slow-moving river that I knew I was in China. Once in Guangzhou, a modern skyline contradicted all that I had seen en route and all that I’d expected.

Although separated by a cavernous political and cultural divide, modern Guangzhou is clearly influenced by the iconic imagery of New York, right down to the look-alike Empire State Building that dominates a very contemporary landscape. I found this emulation flattering, if not hopeful. Not hopeful in the sense that another culture is influenced by ours, but hopeful in the sense that two disparate cultures can share.

The purpose of my trip to Hong Kong was to give a presentation on “The Future of Retail” at the Retail Asia Conference in the “Omnichannel Retail” section. There, too, I saw reason to be hopeful. At the conference, I met people from all over the world, all united in one place under one roof, for one purpose. I travelled 8000 miles and shared tea and congee with people from Sri Lanka, France, China, Germany, the U.K., Australia, Puerto Rico and the Netherlands, to name but a few. And even in this troubled world, it became clear that there is a unifying factor — we all want to live happy lives. And while materialism and consumerism aren’t necessarily the keys to happiness, the fact remains that most, regardless of ideology, want a cell phone, a pair of designer jeans, a cool handbag and a rocking pair of sunglasses.

Early in my career as a visual merchandiser, I questioned my choice of profession, thinking it didn’t really matter much in terms of a contribution to the world. Of course, I now know better. Retail is a true melting pot: It’s where cultures comingle, merge, share and celebrate one another.

As we become more globally aware, and as the industry spreads its international wings, there is hope for a new retail typography, the development of internationally recognized symbols and imagery that is universal to all. Even in the face of great international turmoil, hostility and political unrest, there are compelling, unifying emotions, responses, wants, needs and desires that belie the forces of divisiveness and intolerance. During my trip, I saw people from a faraway place anguish over the recent tragedy in Orlando. It’s clear that human compassion knows no boundaries and can cross wide oceans.

As I travel the world, I realize that we as retail designers have a greater responsibility than merely designing selling centers. We shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that the physical retail space is a place for social engagement, gathering, learning and sharing. The traditional path to purchase has always been linear: awareness, interest, desire, purchase. Today, it’s circular with many points of engagement. It’s also universal:  Retailers who aren’t thinking globally aren’t thinking. Retailers, the world over, have the opportunity to do more than just sell. By building bridges instead of walls, they have the golden opportunity to educate, share and unite. A journey begins with a single step.

Eric Feigenbaum is a recognized leader in the visual merchandising and store design industries with both domestic and international design experience.  He served as corporate director of visual merchandising for Stern’s Department Store, a division of Federated Department Stores, from 1986 to 1995. After Stern’s, he assumed the position of director of visual merchandising for WalkerGroup/CNI, an architectural design firm in New York City. Feigenbaum was also an adjunct professor of Store Design at the Fashion Institute of Technology and formerly served as the chair of the Visual Merchandising Department at LIM College (New York) from 2000 to 2015. In addition to being the Editorial Advisor/New York Editor of VMSD magazine, Eric is also a founding member of PAVE (A Partnership for Planning and Visual Education). Currently, he is also president and director of creative services for his own retail design company, Embrace Design.