A working steel table in the calmest corner of the cellar. Tools at arm's length, light considered, the air still. A surface that doesn't ask the work to be finished before it's begun.
The Studio is small on purpose. Two or three people working at once is the right number — enough collaboration, none of the noise. The table is high, the surface honest. Tests, drafts, false starts and the half-finished pieces between them all live here without apology.
It is not a gallery. There is no audience while you work, no pressure to perform a result before one has emerged. It is also not a fabrication floor — when an idea is ready to scale, it moves next door, into the Fabric Space, where the machines wait for instructions the Studio has already worked out.
What the Studio holds is the middle — the slow, real part between a question and an object. It is where ceramic surface trials become surfaces. Where a memorial keepsake earns its weight before it earns its form. Where a brand's idea of a physical object turns into the first one that actually exists.
Some rooms make things. This one decides what to make.
Every object, the same filter — PEC²: Personal · Environmentally Friendly · Creative · Collaboration.