A curiosity in material and making objects
Where the studio really begins — not with a plan, but with a restless curiosity about what things are made of, and a need to make them with our own hands.
Before there is a room, there is a material. Before there is a material, there is curiosity — the simple, stubborn urge to pick a thing up, turn it over, and ask how it was made. That instinct is where this studio began, and it is still the first thing we reach for on every project.
We are drawn to the honesty of raw things: the grain of oak, the weight of stone, the way clay remembers the hand that shaped it. Materials are never neutral to us. Each one carries a history, a behaviour, a way of meeting light and age. To design well, we first have to understand how they want to be used.
Learning by making
You cannot fully know a material from a sample card. So we make things. We prototype joints at full scale, test finishes under real daylight, and build small objects long before we build large spaces. Making is how we think — the fastest way to discover what a material can and cannot do.
“We design with our hands first, and our drawings second.”
The object as a starting point
A single well-made object — a stool, a handle, a bowl — often teaches us more than a whole mood board. It sets the tone for proportion, weight, and detail. From that one resolved thing, a language for the entire space can grow.
Curiosity as a practice
This curiosity never really switches off. We collect offcuts, visit workshops, and keep asking the same childlike questions: What is this? How is it made? What else could it become? It is, in the end, the quiet engine behind everything the studio designs.