In our studio, objects are never just objects.
They carry stories — of places, of people, of forgotten rituals.
This chair, discreet in appearance yet rich in detail, is one of them.
Crafted in Northern Europe, likely in Germany or Scandinavia, its design reflects the clarity and restraint of mid-century ecclesiastical furniture. Its structure is made of solid wood, with rounded legs and a seat woven from natural cord — a reference to traditional craftsmanship that values both durability and tactility.
But it is the rear of the chair that reveals its most telling feature: a small horizontal shelf just behind the backrest, and a discreet metal hook on the side. These additions are not decorative flourishes, but functional elements tied to its original use. The chair once belonged to a church, where the shelf served to hold a Bible or hymnal, and the hook offered a place to hang a coat or personal belonging during prayer. In this context, furniture becomes a silent participant in communal rituals — designed not to stand out, but to support, to host, to serve.
The humility of the form, the intelligence of its function, and the quality of its materials speak of another time — one in which design and purpose were deeply intertwined. Today, it sits around our table as a quiet reminder of that lineage: a piece that transcends aesthetic trends, offering a lesson in thoughtful design rooted in use, context and meaning.
From a design perspective, the chair exemplifies a thoughtful economy of means. The backrest, a single curved piece of plywood or laminated wood, is gently inclined for lumbar support and set slightly apart from the vertical posts, creating both visual lightness and ergonomic clarity. The seat, tightly hand-woven with natural cord, provides a comfortable yet breathable surface, avoiding the need for upholstery.
The joints between legs and frame are discreet, likely executed with dowels or mortise and tenon techniques, reinforcing the sense of honesty and permanence. There is no ornament, no excess — just proportion, material and function, in quiet balance. The integrated shelf and hook are seamlessly folded into the geometry, revealing a deeper logic: a chair not only to sit in, but to carry belongings, to store a book, to accompany the rhythms of life and ritual.
Today, the chair forms part of the dining table in our own studio — a large wooden table that anchors our shared space. Every other Wednesday, the team gathers here to share lunch, and often, stories. The same table is used for informal meetings, collaborative reviews, and moments when the presence of several people around a table becomes an act of collective thinking. In that sense, the chair continues its original purpose: as a support for dialogue, presence, and gathering — no longer in a sacred space, but still within a space of community.