At this year’s Dutch Design Week (DDW) in Eindhoven, the design collective Show Not Show has transformed the Kruisruimte exhibition space into a provocative laboratory of social dynamics. Their latest exhibition, The Table of Power, serves as a critical examination of the invisible structures that dictate success, visibility, and authority within the global design industry. By turning the spotlight onto the very mechanisms of media and institutional influence, the collective has created an immersive, meta-narrative experience that challenges visitors to reconsider how design narratives are constructed and consumed. The Genesis of the Concept: A Mirror to Institutional Authority The exhibition finds its conceptual roots in the seminal 1990s photographic series by Jacqueline Hassink. Her project, also titled The Table of Power, famously documented the boardrooms of Fortune 500 companies, presenting them devoid of human life. In those sterile, high-stakes environments, the table functioned as a silent, monolithic symbol of corporate dominance and absolute institutional authority. Show Not Show has reinterpreted this visual language for the contemporary creative sector. At the heart of the Kruisruimte gallery sits a long, imposing table, designed by collective members Frank Penders and Luuk van Laarhoven. The piece is a feat of brutalist engineering, crafted from sheet metal that has been precision-cut and folded. The brushed textures and subtle chromatic gradients give the object a cold, industrial allure. To heighten the sense of, as Penders describes it, "eternal institutional reach," the table is positioned against a mirror at the far end of the room, creating an optical illusion of a structure stretching into an infinite horizon. Chronology: From Press Dinner to Performance Art The evolution of The Table of Power is a study in situational design. The project began when Show Not Show was invited to host the official press dinner for Dutch Design Week 2026. Rather than simply providing a functional setting for the meal, the collective decided to integrate the dinner into the exhibition itself. "Our exhibition space isn’t that big," Frank Penders explained during the event. "So we decided to do something quite simple: instead of fitting a dinner into our exhibition, we made the dinner the starting point for the exhibition." This decision effectively blurred the lines between the organizers, the exhibitors, and the media. By positioning the press—the gatekeepers of design validation—at the center of their art, the collective turned the dinner into a performance. Guests were invited to "share the power" by moving freely around the space; however, the irony was not lost on observers. Despite the invitation, the hierarchy of the room remained largely static, with most journalists choosing to remain at the table—a subtle testament to the comfort of existing power structures and the reluctance of the "observer" to become part of the "exhibit." Supporting Data: The Materiality of Influence The exhibition is not merely a critique of social structures; it is a showcase of high-caliber collectible design. Surrounding the central "Table of Power" are pieces from the collective’s core members—Lucas Zito, Marc Meeuwissen, Mokko, and Studio Fabius Clovis—alongside guest contributors Aleksandra Adamchyk, Kilian Vos, and Pablo Octavio. The material palette is intentionally eclectic, intended to represent the breadth of contemporary design. Key highlights include: The Barricada Stools: Marc Meeuwissen’s angular wooden stools were designed specifically to complement the dining table. They are a masterclass in minimalism, created using only one tool and one type of material, reinforcing the exhibition’s theme of focused, deliberate production. Plywood Furniture: Studio Fabius Clovis contributed pieces defined by their tactile, high-gloss lacquered surfaces, which contrast sharply with the raw, brutalist aesthetic of the central metal table. Bioplastic Lighting: Lucas Zito’s totemic pendant lights are 3D-printed from translucent bioplastic. These pieces play with scale, casting a surreal, glowing atmosphere that alters the viewer’s perception of the room’s dimensions. Textile and Form: Kilian Vos’s "Future Fossils" rugs, which hang on the walls like tapestries, and Aleksandra Adamchyk’s sculptural "Waveform" drawer add layers of depth and historical weight to the room. The Dividers: Pablo Octavio’s brushed aluminum room dividers act as the exhibition’s "curtains." Their strategic height allows seated individuals—those occupying the "power" seats—a greater field of vision than those standing, subtly reinforcing the physical disparity in status within the gallery. Official Responses and Creative Philosophy For Show Not Show, this exhibition is the third installment in a series of self-reflective works launched in 2024. The collective has consistently used their annual presence at the Kruisruimte to dissect the realities of being a professional designer. "Each exhibition offers a glimpse into our world as designers, revealing something that visitors might not normally see or consider," Penders stated. He noted that while 2024 focused on the transparency of the prototyping process and 2025 delved into the philosophy of design concepts, 2026 is strictly about the "economy of visibility." The collective argues that in the digital age, being seen is a prerequisite for survival. By analyzing the relationship between the designer and the media, Show Not Show is effectively holding a mirror up to the press corps itself. They are asking: Does the design media promote innovation, or does it simply validate the established "tables of power"? Implications: The Future of Design Discourse The implications of The Table of Power extend far beyond the walls of the Eindhoven exhibition space. By highlighting the power imbalance between the creator and the critic, the collective has sparked a necessary conversation about the curation of culture. In a design industry often criticized for being insular and elitist, Show Not Show’s approach is refreshingly transparent. Their willingness to turn the lens on themselves—and on the people who document them—challenges the industry to look past the "hero" narrative of the designer. Instead, it invites the audience to consider the infrastructure of the industry: the fairs, the dinners, the press releases, and the architectural settings that define who gets to be called "important." The success of this exhibition lies in its duality. On one hand, it is a sophisticated, visually arresting display of contemporary furniture design. On the other, it is a sociological experiment that questions the legitimacy of its own stage. As the collective continues to expand its reach—having already presented at the Design Biennale Rotterdam, Collectible Brussels, and Milan Design Week—they are establishing themselves as more than just a group of product designers. They are cultural critics who happen to speak the language of furniture. Contextualizing the Broader Dutch Design Week The Table of Power is currently one of the most discussed installations at Dutch Design Week 2026, which runs through October 25th across Eindhoven. The exhibition stands in stark contrast to other large-scale works, such as the maximalist Everything Moist Seems Alive at the MU Hybrid Art House, a collaboration between Boris Acket and Maison the Faux. While the latter leans into the theatrical and the sensory, Show Not Show’s work is cold, analytical, and deeply rooted in the structural reality of the design profession. As the week progresses, the "Table of Power" continues to serve as a meeting point for designers, curators, and critics. Whether those who sit at the table will change their behavior remains to be seen, but the fact that the question is being asked is, in itself, a significant contribution to the field. Show Not Show has succeeded in creating a space that is as uncomfortable as it is beautiful—a rare feat in an industry that often prioritizes the latter at the expense of the former. In doing so, they have ensured that their presence at Dutch Design Week is not just a "show," but a necessary interrogation of the systems that define our creative landscape. Post navigation The Maestro’s Midtown Legacy: Inside Stu Loeser’s Leonard Bernstein Microseum A Home Run for Downtown Reno: Ballpark Apartments Secures $73 Million Refinancing