about the forms
The objects I craft in the studio are made to be used and utility has always been something I think about constantly: how it settles in the hand, how something pours, how it behaves when it’s full or when it’s empty...
Over the past months, especially during the first Studio Sales, I began to notice something: Whenever I named a piece after a specific use, people instinctively aligned themselves with that use. If I called something an espresso cup, the conversation narrowed. If I said muesli bowl, the object felt fixed in a single role. It wasn’t wrong, but it felt limiting.
So I started looking for a different kind of language. Something more precise about the form itself, and less prescriptive about what should go into it. That’s where the form codes came in: C1, C2, P1... simple markers that describe the proportions of the outer shape.
The codes also help me build a cleaner line: Instead of isolated pieces, the collection becomes a coherent system where forms relate to each other with a same logic, same proportions, different scales. Each form is dimensioned so it works with the others. A C1 nests into a B3, that into a B4, then into B6 and B7. Almost like a Matryoshka. Not as a gimmick, but as a practical consequence of consistent geometry.
A C1 might hold a short, strong espresso in one kitchen; olives, sea salt, or a small handful of nuts in another. None of these uses are more “correct” than the others.
None of these uses are more “correct” than the others.
A piece should be designed with a specific purpose in mind and still remain generous enough to take on other roles. And I like that idea: that an object can be clear in its intention, yet open to whatever feels right.
