As a furniture designer, I consider myself part of a movement to rethink industry in America. This movement is inspired by artisan ideas and DIY ingenuity. It is also inspired by the prewar way of manufacturing, where items may have been mass-produced, but still conveyed a sense of pride in the way they were made. My generation prefers a product that feels like it has been made by a pair of hands, not by machines.
Many people close to my age are idealistic, and do not like the stifling office environments that economists and industry leaders expected them to inhabit. Not content with prefab cubicle culture—like the rebellious Generation X, yet rejecting sarcasm and irony—we love seeing how things are made. There is a sense of wonder in this for those of us raised on processed food, far away from the farms, workshops and factories that make things. You cannot see process in a McDonalds, Wal-Mart or IKEA. My generation wants to see the plants grown; feed the animals, knit the socks, and sand the wood. We desire to get as close to the process as possible.
My business uses manufacturers that are local to New York. Our workshop is in Brooklyn, and we work closely with a Pennsylvanian Dutch community to source our wood, as well as build a lot of our signature pieces. We also use a metalsmith in Pennsylvania for any metal pieces used in our furniture. From a design standpoint, this melding of traditional manufacturing methods and materials—combined with contemporary ideas—creates a lasting and distinct appeal. Our pieces have an honesty to them.
This makes sense to us as a business model as well. If something goes wrong, we have a quick turnaround to fix whatever that issue is as we can simply drive out to one of the fabricators we use to manage the problem. Our factories aren’t in China. It doesn’t take 6 weeks to hear back if a chair is wrong, or a table isn’t the right length.
It also makes good business sense for our corporate clients. We can meet LEED standards, which are becoming more and more important to architects and contractors. One LEED stipulation is to reduce carbon miles, and having our products sourced within 200 miles of New York City is great for this.
Early on, I was very much influenced by the Bauhaus movement through the Eames era, i.e. the Modern period in design. Studying these movements made a huge impact on how I see the world and how I design pieces. Both the Bauhaus and Eames understood that just the simplest adjustment to a curve—or the placement of a seam—could either upset or restore the balance to a product. I think that they both took that lesson away from studying Zen Buddhism. What is inherent in Eastern philosophy was translated much later into Western design sensibilities.
Just down the stairs is my design studio. From time to tim,e we use it as a storage space for projects that aren’t quite ready, so it can be a mess. There is a lot of activity here, and it makes for an interesting place to be day to day. We get curious tourists walking in off the streets, interrupting an important meeting with a client.
Existing in this environment parallels how we design, and our overall business philosophy. We will work with large corporate clients, or just an individual who is a lover of interesting pieces of wood. We care just as much when working with a younger person excited to have a really unique shelf in their first apartment, as we do when helping an architect outfit an entire office or restaurant. We strive for honest, direct working relationships (and at times, Michael can be just a bit too honest) that mirror our furniture: direct and honest, in form and function.
Working with Michael for nearly five years has taught me a lot about how important it is to be organized. He taught me to manage expectations, and take an abstract idea from paper to reality. He has also helped tone me down in some respects. Now, from the very beginning of the creative process, I consider how a piece will be constructed. I think about how hard it would be to carry, fit into an elevator, and ultimately be delivered to a client.
"Respect" is a key word in the newer business model of my generation. We strive to be well respected, and to be respectful to those with whom we work, as well as the environment around us. We celebrate how something is made, and that we can make good things! Honest materials are respectfully and ethically procured. Products are crafted for a receptive and engaged audience who experience resonance. This is our new sincerity.
Timothy Aaron Huston is a furniture designer from Kansas City. He studied Furniture Design at Danmarks Designskole (Copenhagen), and Industrial Design at the University of Kansas. He designs for SHIMNA furniture in New York City alongside founder Michael Lamont. SHIMNA is a certified member of the Sustainable Furnishings Council, and sources its wood from traditional, family-owned Pennsylvanian Dutch lumberyards.
My generation prefers a product that feels like it has been made by a pair of hands,
not by machines.
This movement started as a reaction against what was happening since the late 1970s, as manufacturing moved abroad. The mindset under Presidents Reagan and Clinton exhorted globalism, capitalism and free trade agreements. Americans bought their food from supermarkets and products from big box stores. Such leaders mistakenly thought that America could be the world's white-collar workers. I think this idea and the lifestyle of the time started to unravel during the second Bush era.not by machines.
Many people close to my age are idealistic, and do not like the stifling office environments that economists and industry leaders expected them to inhabit. Not content with prefab cubicle culture—like the rebellious Generation X, yet rejecting sarcasm and irony—we love seeing how things are made. There is a sense of wonder in this for those of us raised on processed food, far away from the farms, workshops and factories that make things. You cannot see process in a McDonalds, Wal-Mart or IKEA. My generation wants to see the plants grown; feed the animals, knit the socks, and sand the wood. We desire to get as close to the process as possible.
We work closely with a Pennsylvanian Dutch community to source our wood...
That is what we do at SHIMNA with our furniture. Because it is all custom made to order, we allow customers to have a hand in the design, choose the wood and be emotionally invested in our products. This delights them. We are just one example of a new type of business springing up in almost every field; whether it be artisan bakeries, home-made pickle ventures, letterpress printers or handmade couture lingerie.My business uses manufacturers that are local to New York. Our workshop is in Brooklyn, and we work closely with a Pennsylvanian Dutch community to source our wood, as well as build a lot of our signature pieces. We also use a metalsmith in Pennsylvania for any metal pieces used in our furniture. From a design standpoint, this melding of traditional manufacturing methods and materials—combined with contemporary ideas—creates a lasting and distinct appeal. Our pieces have an honesty to them.
This makes sense to us as a business model as well. If something goes wrong, we have a quick turnaround to fix whatever that issue is as we can simply drive out to one of the fabricators we use to manage the problem. Our factories aren’t in China. It doesn’t take 6 weeks to hear back if a chair is wrong, or a table isn’t the right length.
It also makes good business sense for our corporate clients. We can meet LEED standards, which are becoming more and more important to architects and contractors. One LEED stipulation is to reduce carbon miles, and having our products sourced within 200 miles of New York City is great for this.
***
I’ve always been drawn to simple shapes and forms, juxtaposed in concert to create harmony. I recently read Isaacson’s biography of Steve Jobs, where Jobs is quoted as saying, “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.” I can identify a lot with the phrase; however, I’m also really drawn toI've always been drawn to simple
shapes and forms, juxtaposed in concert
to create harmony.
furniture, manufactured products and mechanical processes from the turn of the last century. So my work references the late 19th century to just before the Great Depression.shapes and forms, juxtaposed in concert
to create harmony.
Early on, I was very much influenced by the Bauhaus movement through the Eames era, i.e. the Modern period in design. Studying these movements made a huge impact on how I see the world and how I design pieces. Both the Bauhaus and Eames understood that just the simplest adjustment to a curve—or the placement of a seam—could either upset or restore the balance to a product. I think that they both took that lesson away from studying Zen Buddhism. What is inherent in Eastern philosophy was translated much later into Western design sensibilities.
***
SHIMA is a storefront, open to the public on a busy New York City street. Michael, the owner and founder of SHIMNA, sits at street level, staying open to speaking with anyone who walks in. This is totally in keeping with our DIY philosophy.Just down the stairs is my design studio. From time to tim,e we use it as a storage space for projects that aren’t quite ready, so it can be a mess. There is a lot of activity here, and it makes for an interesting place to be day to day. We get curious tourists walking in off the streets, interrupting an important meeting with a client.
We have a regular cast of characters who come by to joke or antagonize.
But also, since we’re in the middle of NOHO, we get a lot of designers and architects walking by on the street who see something in our window that they could use in a project. They come in and we build a relationship. We have a regular cast of characters who come by to joke or antagonize, all of which I think is a good thing. It lets people know that we are probably a little bit different than a normal out-of-the-box "furniture store," and that the relationship will be unique.Existing in this environment parallels how we design, and our overall business philosophy. We will work with large corporate clients, or just an individual who is a lover of interesting pieces of wood. We care just as much when working with a younger person excited to have a really unique shelf in their first apartment, as we do when helping an architect outfit an entire office or restaurant. We strive for honest, direct working relationships (and at times, Michael can be just a bit too honest) that mirror our furniture: direct and honest, in form and function.
Working with Michael for nearly five years has taught me a lot about how important it is to be organized. He taught me to manage expectations, and take an abstract idea from paper to reality. He has also helped tone me down in some respects. Now, from the very beginning of the creative process, I consider how a piece will be constructed. I think about how hard it would be to carry, fit into an elevator, and ultimately be delivered to a client.
I think about how hard it would be to carry, fit into an elevator, and ultimately be delivered to a client.
Creating something takes concrete and abstract thinking. While Michael and I have a really pragmatic working relationship, we importantly never lose that sense of whimsy, warmth and truth to materials for which our work has become well respected."Respect" is a key word in the newer business model of my generation. We strive to be well respected, and to be respectful to those with whom we work, as well as the environment around us. We celebrate how something is made, and that we can make good things! Honest materials are respectfully and ethically procured. Products are crafted for a receptive and engaged audience who experience resonance. This is our new sincerity.
***
Timothy Aaron Huston is a furniture designer from Kansas City. He studied Furniture Design at Danmarks Designskole (Copenhagen), and Industrial Design at the University of Kansas. He designs for SHIMNA furniture in New York City alongside founder Michael Lamont. SHIMNA is a certified member of the Sustainable Furnishings Council, and sources its wood from traditional, family-owned Pennsylvanian Dutch lumberyards.