Joy multiplies when shared
Llisa Demetrios on the very first Moulded Plywood Elephant
While developing their legendary Plywood Chairs, Charles and Ray Eames also explored the creative limits of bent plywood through smaller, more whimsical forms. Among these experiments was the beloved Moulded Plywood Elephant, first produced in 1945 and later treasured by Charles’s daughter Lucia. Today the original piece is part of the Eames Collection that is held by the Eames Institute of Infinite Curiosity. The latter is dedicated to advancing and expanding the legacy of Charles and Ray Eames, and where their granddaughter Llisa Demetrios serves as chief curator. With a lifelong connection to her grandparents’ oeuvre and philosophy as well as a deep passion for design, Llisa offers a unique perspective on their work and the ongoing mission of the institute.
As a child, you played with the very first Eames Moulded Plywood Elephant – an object that may look playful and innocent yet is the result of serious problem-solving and technical innovation. When did you first understand that it was part of a bigger series of plywood experiments that went on to influence international furniture design?
It wasn’t until much later that I started to look at the elephant in the collection not just as a granddaughter but also as a curator. When I visited my grandparents Charles and Ray in Los Angeles as a child, they always shared whatever they were working on. They talked about how one solution informs the next. When they experimented and something didn’t work, they didn’t label it a failure but simply regarded it as a misconception and moved on to the next iteration. These moulded plywood experiments ranged from designing seating for the home to creating leg splints for the US Navy to making toys like the elephant.
Later I came to understand not just what Charles and Ray made, but also how and why they made it. During their moulded plywood experiments, they quickly realised that the way something is produced has a direct influence on the design. As a result, they didn’t just build the prototypes – they also created the tools to make them. When visiting their office, I could easily see how they applied their moulded plywood techniques to far more than elephants – just by seeing a DCW next to the elephant. On last year’s tours, the elephant took centre stage in the moulded plywood story alongside the leg splints, children’s furniture, screen, airplane stabiliser and moulded plywood sculpture.
It wasn’t until much later that I started to look at the elephant in the collection not just as a granddaughter but also as a curator. When I visited my grandparents Charles and Ray in Los Angeles as a child, they always shared whatever they were working on. They talked about how one solution informs the next. When they experimented and something didn’t work, they didn’t label it a failure but simply regarded it as a misconception and moved on to the next iteration. These moulded plywood experiments ranged from designing seating for the home to creating leg splints for the US Navy to making toys like the elephant.
Later I came to understand not just what Charles and Ray made, but also how and why they made it. During their moulded plywood experiments, they quickly realised that the way something is produced has a direct influence on the design. As a result, they didn’t just build the prototypes – they also created the tools to make them. When visiting their office, I could easily see how they applied their moulded plywood techniques to far more than elephants – just by seeing a DCW next to the elephant. On last year’s tours, the elephant took centre stage in the moulded plywood story alongside the leg splints, children’s furniture, screen, airplane stabiliser and moulded plywood sculpture.
The Moulded Plywood Elephant is now part of the Eames Institute’s collection. Does it hold a special place for you there? And is it something you often highlight when giving tours?
I love to point out the Moulded Plywood Elephant on the tours. Guests naturally gravitate toward it as soon as they see it. It has a distinct presence, like some sort of benevolent guardian akin to the lions in front of the New York Public Library. It brings me so much joy to see it every day. I never tire of admiring its complex, organic curves. Over the years, I have served as its custodian, preparing the crate when it goes out on loan and eagerly awaiting its safe return, so we’ve spent a lot of time together. The moulded plywood finish has only grown more beautiful and golden throughout the decades.
When I was growing up, I often wondered why there weren’t more elephants. I was told that moulding the plywood for the elephant was much harder than for the Eames Lounge Chair. My mother, Lucia Eames, was delighted when Vitra developed a way to produce 1000 in natural maple and 1000 in red maple in celebration of Charles’s centennial in 2007.
What are your earliest memories of the Moulded Plywood Elephant? Did you always know it had been designed by your grandparents?
When I was a child, the elephant seemed magical. It would appear unexpectedly at my grandparents’ house or the office whenever I visited Los Angeles, always standing out as something special – like an invitation to play. Charles and Ray would often bring out toys for us from their cornucopia of treasured objects – some they collected and some they made: toy boats, the House of Cards, spinning tops, music boxes and, of course, the elephant. I loved the scale models of trains, exhibits and the aquarium they collected and built to inform their work. To me, the elephant wasn’t just a toy; it was a scale model of an elephant.
I love to point out the Moulded Plywood Elephant on the tours. Guests naturally gravitate toward it as soon as they see it. It has a distinct presence, like some sort of benevolent guardian akin to the lions in front of the New York Public Library. It brings me so much joy to see it every day. I never tire of admiring its complex, organic curves. Over the years, I have served as its custodian, preparing the crate when it goes out on loan and eagerly awaiting its safe return, so we’ve spent a lot of time together. The moulded plywood finish has only grown more beautiful and golden throughout the decades.
When I was growing up, I often wondered why there weren’t more elephants. I was told that moulding the plywood for the elephant was much harder than for the Eames Lounge Chair. My mother, Lucia Eames, was delighted when Vitra developed a way to produce 1000 in natural maple and 1000 in red maple in celebration of Charles’s centennial in 2007.
What are your earliest memories of the Moulded Plywood Elephant? Did you always know it had been designed by your grandparents?
When I was a child, the elephant seemed magical. It would appear unexpectedly at my grandparents’ house or the office whenever I visited Los Angeles, always standing out as something special – like an invitation to play. Charles and Ray would often bring out toys for us from their cornucopia of treasured objects – some they collected and some they made: toy boats, the House of Cards, spinning tops, music boxes and, of course, the elephant. I loved the scale models of trains, exhibits and the aquarium they collected and built to inform their work. To me, the elephant wasn’t just a toy; it was a scale model of an elephant.
And what about your own children – did they ever get to play with it?
When they were growing up, the elephant was usually travelling around the world for exhibitions, so they didn’t get to see it as much as I did. It still remains one of the most requested objects to go out on loan. My children have probably seen the elephant more at the Eames Institute than they ever did before. Although my children didn’t get to see it up close as much as I did during my youth, they did grow up with the elephants that Vitra produced for Charles’s centennial in 2007. They proudly have their own collections of elephants descended from the original. At our home, we have a herd of elephants in the different woods now available. My children also like the colourful plastic ones, especially the small red elephant, and have given many to friends over the years.
When they were growing up, the elephant was usually travelling around the world for exhibitions, so they didn’t get to see it as much as I did. It still remains one of the most requested objects to go out on loan. My children have probably seen the elephant more at the Eames Institute than they ever did before. Although my children didn’t get to see it up close as much as I did during my youth, they did grow up with the elephants that Vitra produced for Charles’s centennial in 2007. They proudly have their own collections of elephants descended from the original. At our home, we have a herd of elephants in the different woods now available. My children also like the colourful plastic ones, especially the small red elephant, and have given many to friends over the years.
Charles and Ray Eames had a lifelong love of toys and a special fondness for elephants. I remember seeing a photograph of Ray on an elephant – probably in India – where they also collected toys and folk art, some of which are now in the Institute’s archives. What do you recall about their fascination with toys?
During their travels, Charles and Ray discovered that two toys in particular could be found in almost every culture – kites and spinning tops. The marvellous thing about kites and tops is that they are so well designed that you forget that they were designed. And they were designed over generations not by just one person but by many. I remember many kites and tops all around the office – it felt like they were in almost every room. Today I think about how Charles and Ray had contemplated ways to bring people together and bridge communication gaps. What wonderful icebreakers these objects must have been for their guests visiting from around the world because everyone spoke the universal language of playing with toys.
At the Eames Institute, we have over 200 boxes of toys that Ray and Charles made and collected. For them playing was a portal to complex ideas, such as understanding how an unseen force like gravity becomes visible when you drop a marble down the musical tower and hear the notes play. Having fun and learning, without even realising it – that was the best game growing up.
During their travels, Charles and Ray discovered that two toys in particular could be found in almost every culture – kites and spinning tops. The marvellous thing about kites and tops is that they are so well designed that you forget that they were designed. And they were designed over generations not by just one person but by many. I remember many kites and tops all around the office – it felt like they were in almost every room. Today I think about how Charles and Ray had contemplated ways to bring people together and bridge communication gaps. What wonderful icebreakers these objects must have been for their guests visiting from around the world because everyone spoke the universal language of playing with toys.
At the Eames Institute, we have over 200 boxes of toys that Ray and Charles made and collected. For them playing was a portal to complex ideas, such as understanding how an unseen force like gravity becomes visible when you drop a marble down the musical tower and hear the notes play. Having fun and learning, without even realising it – that was the best game growing up.
‘Toys are not really as innocent as they look. Toys and games are the preludes to serious ideas.’
A well-made toy represents design in its purest form; it is made to serve a purpose and does so perfectly. I’ve always loved this quote from their film Toccata for Toy Trains: ‘In a good old toy there’s apt to be nothing self-conscious about the use of materials. What is wood is wood. What is tin is tin. What is cast is beautifully cast. It is possible that somewhere in all this is a clue to what sets the creative climate of any time, including our own.’
Finally, is there anything else you’d like to share about the Moulded Plywood Elephant?
I have seen two or three red elephants in hospital waiting rooms in the San Francisco Bay Area. They add warmth to the space, and I love seeing how they bring delight and joy to children and parents alike. Charles and Ray considered everything they made a gift. Their goal was always to find ways to mass produce their designs so they could make not one, but a thousand. The more they could make, the more gifts they could share that brought joy.
I have seen two or three red elephants in hospital waiting rooms in the San Francisco Bay Area. They add warmth to the space, and I love seeing how they bring delight and joy to children and parents alike. Charles and Ray considered everything they made a gift. Their goal was always to find ways to mass produce their designs so they could make not one, but a thousand. The more they could make, the more gifts they could share that brought joy.
Publication date: 10.12.2025
Author: Stine Liv Buur
Images: 1.–3. © Eames Institute; 4.–5. © 2025 Eames Office, LLC. All rights reserved; 6.–10. © Vitra
The Eames Institute of Infinite Curiosity uses “Eames” by permission and under license from Eames Office, LLC. The works of Charles and Ray Eames are © Eames Office, LLC.
