By the time Maria Porro steps onto the stage at Teatro alla Scala to formally introduce the opening of Salone del Mobile Milano each year, dressed impeccably—sometimes by her friend Georgio Armani—she’s already been balancing a thousand moving parts behind the scenes. To the audience, she appears radiant and composed, a poised figure commanding one of the world’s most influential design events. But for Maria, the true work is in the complexity beneath the surface.
This year, as she prepared to address an international crowd—including government ministers, designers, and, more dauntingly, theater legend Robert Wilson—she confessed, “I’m nervous. Not for the prime ministers, but Bob Wilson!” It was a rare crack in her otherwise composed exterior, a moment of human honesty in a role that demands extraordinary calm.
Maria Porro presenting the opening remarks for Salone del Mobile in Milan, 2023. Photo by Chris Force
Maria is the president of Salone del Mobile, the largest furniture and design fair in the world, and also part of the fourth generation leading her family’s century-old company, Porro. But titles do little to capture the magnitude of what she navigates daily. Salone is no mere trade show—it’s a cultural ecosystem, a living organism with over 2,000 exhibitors, 38% of them international. “Salone is a really complex ecosystem, and you have to balance all the needs,” she explained. “But what I always say is, I’m not alone. Yes I’m the front face, but then there’s a team.”
That philosophy—leading with and through others—is a thread that runs throughout Maria’s career. Before design, she spent over a decade in the theater, working backstage, calling cues through a headset, managing light, sound, and set with precision. “I learned a lot being backstage in theater with the headphones and music script,” she said. “You learn to count on the team. If something goes wrong, it’s not just because something was wrong. It’s because the teamwork didn’t work.”
Porro’s new Milan showroom is designed by Piero Lissoni. Photo courtesy of Porro
That training, it seems, gave her not only logistical discipline but an intuitive grasp of collective rhythm—an invaluable asset in a world where coordination is everything. “Theater teaches you to be on time. Respect the people, no matter if they are sewing the costume backstage or the most important singers,” she said. “There’s a curtain opening at a certain point and you have to make it happen.”
It’s a sentiment she carries into the orchestration of Salone, a fair that isn’t just about showcasing furniture but about defining the values of design, often in a world that seems determined to forget them. “This moment is very difficult, because if can feel like the world is upside down, or that everybody is looking out just for themselves. But the strength of Salone is the capacity to be a system, to compete together.”
She’s passionate about resisting the fear that can stifle innovation. “Fear is the worst companion that we can have. When you have fear, maybe you don’t invest in research or in the culture. It’s a challenge in a year like this when everyone feels like maybe they should pull back. But I think we have a responsibility to more clearly tell why design is important, why we must continue to invest in schools and bring new countries and geographies into Salone. If we don’t, the fear wins. No.”
“I think we have a responsibility to more clearly tell why design is important.”
Yet Maria carries that responsibility without letting it weigh her down. In speaking about her family’s company, which turns 100 this year, she shared, “Of course 100 years is a lot, but our approach is to look forward and to build up day-by-day, year-by-year, project after project. I don’t feel heavy. I just feel thankful.”
Maria’s sense of leadership is steady, unshowy, and rooted in that idea of service—whether to a team, a stage, or a shared vision. Asked where her quiet confidence comes from, she doesn’t cite pedigree or pedigree or power, but her time in the wings. “Constantly thinking I’m part of a team makes you feel confident and good. This is the most important thing.”
Later that evening Maria was scheduled to give her well-known opening remarks, and I couldn’t help but ask if she had a special dress in mind. “I did,” she said, “but there was a major power outage here, and now the dry cleaners can’t find it.” She didn’t seem the least bit fazed. What if it never turns up? She shrugged and joked on her way out, “Otherwise—naked.”
