During Milan Design Week I met with Ivy Ross, a creative force whose work has long defied the boundaries between art, science, and technology. As Google’s chief design officer for consumer devices, Ivy is best known for cultivating a design language that feels unmistakably human—bold, tactile, and emotionally resonant. Since stepping into the role in 2016 she has helped lead the creation of products that have won over 250 design awards, bringing warmth and intention to the often impersonal world of consumer tech.
Beyond her leadership at Google, Ivy’s artistic lineage runs deep: her metalwork jewelry resides in museum collections around the world and her recent book, Your Brain on Art, co-authored with Susan Magsamen, explores the neuroscience behind creative transformation.
Our conversation unfolded backstage of “Making the Invisible Visible,” Google’s 2025 installation during Salone del Mobile. Co-created by Ivy and her team in collaboration with light and water artist Lachlan Turczan, the exhibition is less a showcase of technology than a meditation on how ideas come to life—how the unseen becomes seen.
Visitors begin in Lachlan’s Lucida (I–IV), a series of ephemeral light sculptures that ripple through mist, making the immaterial startlingly present. It was surprisingly powerful. From there the exhibit moves into spaces that reveal the thinking and making behind Google’s latest hardware, bridging the mystical with the mechanical.
For Ivy design is a form of alchemy—one that requires both imagination and precision. “This isn’t just about what we make,” she told me. “It’s about how we make it matter.”
When you think about the future especially the intersection of art, spirituality, and access to information—do you believe spirituality in the art world is something constant?
In many ways I see artists as shamans. They often have a sense of what’s coming and express that vision creatively whether through painting, dance, sound, or any medium. Often that’s the role artists play: helping society see from a new angle, pushing perception, and making new connections in our minds. That process of creating new neuro-connections is deeply human. I don’t think that’s changing.
Right now I think we’re at the beginning of a creative renaissance. Out of chaos comes creativity, and the world feels full of this tension of opposites. But it’s not a choice between art or technology—it’s art and technology.
AI is starting to take on some of the more rational, repetitive work. In turn that’s pushing us to reconnect with our imaginative muscles. Muscles that have maybe gone dormant while we were busy optimizing everything. But humans aren’t machines. We’re imaginative beings, and we now have an opportunity to co-create with AI to push our creativity into places we can’t even fully imagine yet.
Yes it’s the unknown, and the unknown can be scary. But I am an optimist in that there’s a universal plan here of the next step. We’re in the middle of the chaos a little bit in terms of what that looks like.
I also think the world of spirituality and science are coming together more. There are interesting connections being made and bridges being built. I think the future will be defined by interdisciplinary thinking and working.
I think around 75% of medical programs for doctors now include art in their training. It’s almost like to solve the problems of tomorrow we’re going to need designers working with scientists, artists working with engineers, mixing skills in ways we haven’t before.
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- Ivy Ross is a creative force whose work has long defied the boundaries between art, science, and technology. Photo by Chris Force
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- A rendering of the space inside the human ear that helped guide Google’s design team in earbud design. Photo courtesy of Google
Your book Your Brain on Art explores how art affects the brain. Do you think we’ll ever truly understand it, or will that be technology’s job?
I don’t think technology will replace our understanding—it’ll partner with us to deepen it. Art creates a salient experience that touches something emotional, and that’s what rewires the brain. That’s not just about information.
Computers can sense but they don’t have sensory systems the way we do. There’s a subtlety to being human that we still need to nurture and amplify. I don’t see technology as a threat to artists any more than the camera was a threat to painters.
Funny enough my husband is a photographer. I remember when digital photography first arrived and pretty much everyone else was trained in traditional film. And people really panicked—“Now everyone’s a photographer! What does this mean for the craft?”
But over time digital tools expanded his practice. It didn’t replace his creativity, it enhanced it. I think the same thing is going to happen with AI.
So you don’t imagine a future where a powerful technology could walk into a room, assess data on what evokes emotion, and then create artwork entirely on its own?
I think we’ll see the rise of a new kind of role, maybe something like a prompt designer. It’ll be less about dictating every single element and more about knowing the right questions to ask. That’s a very spiritual mindset where the power lies in the question. We’re moving to a place where the questions are important and learning how to dial those questions in.
Imagine standing at a canvas. A painter doesn’t always know where the piece is going. They add a color, step back and ask: “What next?” If you’re using AI it might be, “Give me an idea that evokes joy using light.” The result is your starting point. Then you prompt again. You refine. It’s still an artistic process, just using a new kind of brush.
Really it’ll be a new art form entirely. It’ll have gotten us to a place we couldn’t have ever imagined though that partnership—and it’s only as good as the questions we ask. But I don’t think the connection between hand and mind is going away. I actually think craft is coming back in a big way almost as a counterbalance. The tension of opposites. We’re seeing that tension everywhere.
As a society we also have a say in what support and react to. A phone as an invention would have gotten away if people didn’t use it. Tools, formats, technologies—they persist because we choose to use them. We’re co-creating this future. So yes it’s a little scary, but also thrilling.
Lachlan’s Lucida (I–IV) is a series of ephemeral light sculptures that ripple through mist, making the immaterial startlingly present. Photo by Chris Force
Do you think we need some sort of ethical or economic framework to support artists in this future?
I think ethics are essential in everything. Just like how the music industry had to confront how it valued creation during the digital shift, we’ll have to figure out how to honor the people behind the ideas. Who owns the inputs? Who gets credit for co-creation? Those are huge unknowns.
It’s a lesson in being okay with uncertainty while still staying active and shaping what’s to come. We have to be asking those questions.
When you’re working on physical products like tech hardware, does that bigger-picture thinking show up in the day-to-day?
We’re very user-focused. We’re not interested in technology for technology’s sake. We always ask: “How will this feel to use? What emotion will it spark when someone sees it?” That emotional response is part of our job as designers. It has to work but it also has to connect.
We do a lot of emotional testing. When we show concepts to consumers, we ask: “How do you feel when you see this? Does this excite you? Scare you? Comfort you?” That wasn’t part of product design in my earlier roles, but now it feels essential. Tech isn’t this separate entity anymore. It’s part of our lives, but it doesn’t need to be loud or chest-thumping anymore. It can be a quiet, beautiful tool—an extension of ourselves.
I think my opinion on this comes from having worked across many industries—fashion, toys, jewelry, handbags. I’ve always been a futurist but I really love where I am now. I’ve been in tech for almost 11 years and it’s where I feel most needed. I’m bringing a perspective that helps restore balance, and my whole team feels that. We’re very grateful to be asking different questions.
Photo by Lachlan Urczan, courtesy of Google
I saw when you were giving a talk you mentioned how important it is to have a design library.
I think the story was my boss was setting up the Design Center, which I’m grateful for. And I said, “First thing—we need a design library.” They said, “What do you mean? We just digitized the world’s information.” And I said, “Yes but there are times when, as designers, we need to hold, feel, turn the pages. There’s no substitute for that.”
But there’s a time and place for everything. I know my husband is fine reading digitally on a plane because he doesn’t have to carry books, but I’ll still carry a book because that’s how I want to engage with it. I think the future is very much going to be about personalization—your preferences versus mine—and amplifying our own personalities and choices. I just want those options to be there.
Do you see trends or differences in the way early-career designers think or work?
Yes it’s interesting. In my day, you picked: Are you an industrial designer? A UX designer? What are you? Now it’s more fluid which I think is the right vibe. The next generation will likely juggle multiple jobs—they’ll be a DJ, a photographer, a designer. That translates into design thinking too.
Students now ask me things like, “Should I study UX? Should I learn both software and hardware?” They’re zooming out and wanting a broader view, and that’s good. It’s more holistic. Understanding the system as a whole is becoming more important than just mastering a single specialty.
I also like hiring people who have interests outside of what I’m hiring them to do. It brings a different perspective. If you’re too entrenched in one thing, you dig the same neural pathways over and over. But if you have outside interest those connections unexpectedly inform your main work.
Photo courtesy of Google
Do you think it’s because there’s a growing value in creativity and diverse thinking over pure technical skill?
Yes. I think tomorrow’s problems will need this kind of mind. You’ll still use the tools of each specialty, but your brain needs to hold a bigger-picture understanding. I see that kind of thinking in the next generation—it’s how they’re wired.
They’re interested in a lot of different things. Life is a journey of continuous learning. I don’t think we should be asking kids, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” and expect a one-word answer. That mindset is outdated.
We’ve seen how dynamic the world is. What you do today might not be what you do ten years from now. It’s less about, “What do you do?” and more about, “Who are you?” And that identity evolves over time. That also fits with where we’re going as a society. We’re evolving into more layered, nuanced versions of ourselves, and we need to keep up with the vibration of what’s happening.
Photo courtesy of Google
What else do you look forward to during this week in Milan?
What I really love is seeing the design team here. I think we’re pretty unique in that I brought about 15 of my designers, and they’re actually present in the exhibition space. They love having direct conversations with people. As designers we’re often pitching to executives or retailers, but this gives them firsthand exposure and feedback, which is so valuable.
I really look forward to their excitement at the end of each day—hearing what people said, what questions came up, how they reacted. There’s so much pride in their work and there’s no substitute for that kind of direct interaction.
We’re also working at a very different scale here. We’re used to designing small electronics so thinking on this larger, spatial scale—what Milan requires—is great practice. It gives all of us a chance to apply our skills in a new way.
So yes I love seeing them experience that, and hearing their reflections. By the time we’re on the plane back I’m already thinking about next year.
