We’re a City that Makes Things: Aleiya Olu on Detroit, Design, and Energy

Walker Publishing Filed to Design · Part of Houses of Ideas

Aleiya Olu. Photo: Daniel Ribar. Courtesy the artist.

Born and raised in Detroit, Aleiya Olu is the founder of the design studio From Us To You. Pairing the soft and organic side of Detroit with the industrial production for which it is famous, her practice encapsulates furniture and interior design, as well as historic home renovation. As she works to finish a new edition of works for the Walker's Idea House 3, Olu sat down with the Walker to discuss her grandmother‘s love of patterns, exploring childhood memories through wood finishes, and the influence of the design-centric city of Detroit.

Walker Art Center

How did your practice begin?

Aleiya Olu

My practice is relatively new. It involves my feelings around memory, identity, and softness. It also brings to the forefront my life in Detroit—growing up here, choosing to stay here, my love for the city, and the softer side of this place that doesn’t get discussed often.

WAC

How do you define or describe your approach to design?

AO

I love design objects, publications, and historic homes. But my main focus is storytelling through furniture. My practice began when I was seeking out furniture for my collection. I discovered that there is nothing like living with a piece that you’ve created for yourself. I had many ideas about how the things in my family and my life should look and feel. I wanted textures and visuals that truly reflect my spirit and personal history. This desire to create what I couldn’t find elsewhere sparked my furniture-making journey.

I also recently opened Periodicals a magazine shop next door to my husband’s public relations agency, Olu & Company. I wanted to create a stimulating and immersive environment at Periodicals that matched our publications. I designed the space with stone, stainless steel, warm colors, and lighting but retained some of its rawness, reminiscent of convenience stores and streetside newsstands. Launching Periodicals was my first experience seeing an audience react physically and emotionally to a space I had imagined.

I also did a two-year renovation of my 100-year-old home, which allowed me to explore how emotions can live in a home’s infrastructure. My romance with renovation began with Palmer Woods, a beautiful green hamlet that played an important role in the foundation of Detroit’s Black middle class. In 1948, the Supreme Court deemed racially restrictive covenants illegal, and Black families began stewarding these sprawling homes. We purchased our home from a family that moved there in 1968, a year after the Detroit Rebellion and the passing of the federal Fair Housing Act. These facts motivated me to approach my design practice with gratitude. I am grateful that I can create a sense of belonging for my family in a world that can feel, at times, contentious.

WAC

Have you lived in Detroit your whole life, or did you go away before being drawn back?

AO

I grew up in Detroit, in a historic neighborhood called Rosedale Park. That was my core experience, but my parents sent me to private schools outside the city. I did a lot of commuting, which was exciting; I would experience dynamic and nuanced cultural shifts that would happen by moving through different parts of the city and the metro area. Later, I went to Hope College in western Michigan.

After Hope College, I was in Chicago for a year, but felt Detroit’s authenticity pulling me back to the city. At Hope, I especially felt that pull: I chose a school where I could interrogate an experience opposite to the one I knew so well. The school was in a conservative beach town; sometimes, I laugh about being 17 and choosing to dive into that environment headfirst. But at that time, my discomfort pushed me to learn more about myself, my history, and what I love about city life. When I finally made my way back home in 2011, I discovered a lot of artists and musicians in Detroit. I met people who had been making work for a long time, some with a 50-plus-year practice and some who had more recognition abroad than at home. There were also a lot of newcomers who had come from kindred cities, like Oakland and New Orleans. It was just a cool time. I lived in Eastern Market, a historic farmer’s market neighborhood where Carhartt and Oscar Mayer have roots. All these people were the nucleus of the city’s ascent. I lived there for five years; the rest is an ongoing journey.

Detroit has informed so much of my perspective on the world. I have always traveled to and been curious about other places, but I knew that if I had anything to say or contribute to the world, Detroit would be the catalyst.

WAC

How did you encounter design? Was it something you were always interested in, or something you discovered?

AO

In 2017, I started a career in media relations at my husband’s PR firm, Olu & Company. I was interested in his approach to helping artists translate their work into writing, which is sometimes tricky for lifelong artists. I began working with painters, photographers, gallerists, museums, designers, architects, and any other kind of creative you can think of. I was deeply involved in research, which further fueled my passion for design, which has always been within me.

My grandma’s house is a big part of my practice because it was unique, engaging, and meticulously curated over many years. As a kid, I spent much time at my grandma’s house. I think about her story, how she migrated from the South to the North, and how she worked to put herself through school. She was interested in science and worked in a medical lab—but her home was her canvas. She would never agree with that. [laughs] She’d be like, What are you talking about? But everything from wild floral carpet to floral sofas that clashed with her knickknacks, to her love of beautiful wood furniture, became design objects of value and meaning to me. She always stressed the importance of keeping things nice. They help us communicate who we are. I always loved that about my grandma, and I thought it was super cool. Even to this day. She’s 90 and keeps getting cooler.

I remember feeling inspired to create designs and share my experiences. Growing up in Michigan, I heard stories of the state’s design legacy, which sparked my interest in how influential figures curated their lives. During this time, I revisited my grandma’s house and realized it was the most amazing place I had ever been. Design has always been a part of my life, but now my journey has equipped me with the skills to bring my ideas to life. And that’s where I am today.

WAC

Are there certain elements of Detroit that inspire your work?

AO

My work involves the city as a backdrop, thinking about the landscape and the soundscape. That is why you see a lot of curves on the Lyndon Chair and Lyndon Table. It mimics the landscape and the soundscape of the city.

With the Lyndon Chair, as an example, I wanted to make a piece of furniture that was simple, functional, and cozy enough that you could cuddle up in it. I like to put my feet up, relax, and lounge at dinner, so I made a chair to sit in for hours, have conversations, and engage in fellowship. The surfaces of the Lyndon Chairs are broad and wide, which creates more space for the sitter. The chair’s curves are tactile; you just want to run your fingers over all the edges.

WAC

Was the choice of material also due to your interest in that tactile quality?

AO

I was interested in solid wood furniture, and cherry is just beautiful. The wood is rich and has a lot of depth. I wanted to show what wood could do, so I worked closely with fabricators to create a smooth, watery, fluid material from something commonly thought to have hard edges and corners.

In part, I created the Lyndon Chair around the notion of participating in the energy of the streets existing just past your porch. The porch colloquially refers to a domestic or familial safety net. When I entered high school, the city felt so alive, with so much energy and many things going on. Being an only child with no older siblings to rally with, I could never quite go far enough or stay out long enough, but it was so much fun when I finally did. The Lyndon Chair reflects a muted domesticity while knowing there’s energy just beyond the porch.

Additionally, I’ve started exploring darker finishes with the work lately. Black tea, vinegar, and steel wool achieve an ebonized result while still bringing out the beautiful textures and grains that cherry is known for. That blackness of the wood really has a lot to do with shadows and my adolescence, moving into adulthood but still being that same 14-year-old kid in some ways. Living on the west side of Detroit again for the first time since my youth, I sometimes see people from back in the day; these occurrences usually send me to a place. The darker-stained Lyndon chair represents those people, too, who live in the recesses of my identity.

WAC

You mentioned renovating your home as another project. How has that project informed your design practice?

ALO

My house was built in 1939, so it is one of the newer houses. Many of the others were built between 1917 and 1927. While most of the houses are large Tudors or Arts & Crafts, there are others that were built at different periods on a prairie-style landscape, on irregular lots, on winding, tree-lined streets. There are houses by Frank Lloyd Wright, Minoru Yamasaki, Alden B. Dow, and Albert Khan, as well as many lesser-known architects who created masterpieces.

My home hadn’t changed since it was built. While it was in good shape, I could see so much romance that just wanted to be rekindled. There is a marble-clad powder room with a mosaic sink, a massive fireplace in the primary bedroom, and many curved walls and entryways. I wanted to know how to execute this task, so I pursued it myself. I added enchantment everywhere. In the second entryway, I even replaced the baseboards with Lyndon-like squiggles. It is really a playground for me. As we worked, I kept thinking “This feels like my studio” because I could play with different materials and surfaces. That really helped me to understand myself as a designer more.

WAC

Has working with spaces and the objects within them changed how you work?

AO

Our lived experiences go into the work in one way or another, whether visible to the naked eye or just a feeling, an energy. Objects carry energy. There have been things I’ve brought into my home that just didn’t feel right.

I think about the energy that goes into my design objects and how people can bring it into their homes. That is why I’ve been so intentional about my home and Periodicals. Humans are sensitive to our spaces because they become part of our psychology.

For instance, I don’t like being in spaces that feel too dark or uncomfortable. There are restaurants I won’t go to because they’re too drafty. [laughs] However, entering spaces where there is a certain energy or a certain history, you experience someone translating their feelings and energy to you through the design. This is why designers have an incredibly interesting job. You are able to make someone feel a certain way through the design of objects that you also love.

WAC

You’ve talked about the shapes, sounds, and stories of Detroit. It is a city that has a reputation which might not always reflect its realities. As a designer born, raised, and currently based in Detroit, how does the city influence your work?

ALO

Detroit is unique in many ways. Many people migrated from the South—Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi—to Detroit, which can be felt in the city’s foundation. We carry an urge to create, express, and tell our stories. This question always makes me think of Detroit’s music and the painters, sculptors, and other artists who have called Detroit home for generations.

It is easy to forget that having a job in an office or for a company is a newer concept. Back in the day, if you were just arriving in Detroit, you were self-enterprising. You were a metalworker, a blacksmith, or a woodworker. I love this entrepreneurial approach because you are directly relating to the thing you are making, as opposed to working in a factory.

Although Detroit is famous for its factories and industry, it sits on a spectrum of different lived experiences. It’s not a concrete jungle or a hard metropolis. There is definitely a ton of grit, which I love. But there is more. Because of the landscape, the green spaces, and our connection to the Great Lakes, there is a lot of clear air and oxygen.

In my work, I like to explore the city’s softer side. I had a fairly soft upbringing here. I lived on a lush street in a green neighborhood. As a child, I could always lie in the backyard under the trees. That softness and that sweetness are in my work in many ways. With the curves and organic materials, everything is soft.

Detroit is a city that builds things. We built the car. The first paved road was in Detroit. The architecture of the actual Motown building is where the Motown sound comes from. Techno started in Detroit, and it’s the sound of us making things—industrial machines and our bodies becoming one. As Detroiters, we must make things, whether creating new systems or products. We are a city that has to make things.▪︎

Experience and shop for Olu's work in Idea House 3, located within the Walker Art Center. Open during regular museum hours, by appointment, or anytime on shop.walkerart.org.