at the bench, half-light, working
Elias Rho
I trained as a metalworker and fell for wood by accident — repairing a walnut top that deserved better legs than it had. Everything since has been an argument between the two materials, settled at the seam.
There’s no team. Every piece that leaves here was cut, welded, planed and oiled by one pair of hands, which is the whole point — and the reason lead times are what they are. I’d rather make forty honest things a year than four hundred anonymous ones.
One bench, north light, and time
A single-room shop with the machines I actually use and none I don't. Work happens in daylight where possible — it's the only way to read grain and see how a finish is settling. Nothing here is rushed to hit a quota.
Slow wood, honest steel
Hardwood comes from two regional mills I've used for years — air-dried where I can get it, always accountable. Steel is ordinary hot-rolled and mild stock; the character comes from how it's worked and left, not from anything exotic.
The join is the design
I draw the seam first — where steel meets wood — and build outward from it. Wood is left room to move; steel is blued, waxed or left raw, never disguised. The last day is always the same: oil, cure, and a long look before it goes.