Our Design Principles
People-centric
Furniture must be eminently functional
Every piece we build is designed with use, first and foremost, in mind.
Edward never stopped working to perfect the comfort of his chairs, designing more than a dozen versions of his iconic slat dining chair before arriving at the current iteration.
"A dining chair should encourage company to sit for a long dinner, and desert. Then perhaps another glass of wine, or two. No one should want to leave the table for lack of comfort."
Inspire the senses
Furniture should be a pleasure to look at and touch
Our ‘things’, the objects we choose to live and interact with as we go about our daily lives, affect us; we are wise to select objects that invite the eye and hand, and inspire the mind.
We love to see the joy on people's faces when they sit in one of our rocking chairs, caressing the sculpted arms, or hold one of our hand-sanded cutting boards for the first time.
The test of time
Furniture should last indefinitely
Good design means pieces built with longevity in mind; with proper care, a piece of furniture should provide service for generations.
It's common for a household to spend large sums on a vehicle which, with luck, may last a couple decades. Our hope is that the heirloom furniture we build will still be in use in the next century.
details make the difference
Each component of a piece should be beautiful on its own
This is an idea Edward absorbed from his good friend and mentor Bill Stumpf, a pioneer in ergonomics who is best known as the designer of the ubiquitous Aeron Chair for Herman Miller.
“The thing about [Bill’s] chairs is, when he designs a product every piece on the product is a piece of sculpture. Every piece in anything Bill designs is beautiful. Strictly from working with Stumpf, I pay a lot of attention to detail.”
Made with care
Love in = love out
A truism in all areas of life, this too applies in the art of furniture design. We believe that a big part of what makes our pieces special — what people feel when they experience our work in person — is the evident devotion to our craft.
What shall we build together?
A mission statement, of sorts
I disguise trees.
Fellers trundle them in
slabs, and stack them
crosswise in a darkened waiting room.
I fret and pace: which are the ready
candidates? What shape and function
will console the Cherry, cut forever from
its fruitful reign?
What would the Burr Oak now become,
having been protector and provider for grey
squirrels of distinguished lineage
for (count the rings) so many generations?
Maybe this—no, rather; that—I grieve
Until you call and say you need
a place to sit, to store your Sunday suits
or hold your pots and pans or treasures.
You free my mind so hand and eye can
go to work. The wood and I conspire;
we have to please all three of us. Success
means we all live a little longer.
- John Ingham, written for Edward Wohl