Interviews with Yilmaz Dogan

I’ve been personally engaged in furniture design and production since my childhood. The fact that spatial shells are shaped around the furniture forms we manufacture and the objective and formal relationship between the space and furniture forced me to question the form, color and harmony of every object. So, I’ve been made in the mold of design, and then, received design education but what influenced me as much as design was “structure”.

I think the limits of material are the biggest barrier to design, therefore I studied Civil Engineering to push the limits of objects. The Design-Resistance relationship, that is, combining the disciplines of Design and Engineering have contributed to me through unique experiences.

Just like a novelist bringing their thoughts to life via sentences and a poet achieving a magical form through words, I believe a designer has the same magical influence. Design is the art of combining your thoughts, what you dream about with shape, form and function and visualizing them. This is the feeling that pushed me to become a designer. I believe design is one of the most important values to be able to create a better world, a more livable physical environment.

I think design is not a discipline to be performed by force, without loving it, desiring it; being a designer means choosing a lifestyle beyond having an occupation. It is not much possible to design without wanting it with all your heart, feeling it deep inside and being bound to it.

I mostly design furniture for different living spaces. I like using wood with metal, glass, textile, marble and different materials in general. I am designing a very special kitchen collection formed by different styles. I have a particular interest in lighting. I am experimenting to integrate design approaches of different disciplines into the furniture design. I have started a long-term project for electronically integrated furniture. I am also working in inclusive design.

Design is a very long journey which requires great amount of loyalty and labor. They should take the time and show patience enough to become mature in such an age when everything is consumed rapidly. Otherwise, they will be disappointed most of the time.

I think a good designers act by defining the needs of today properly, but a great designer sets off by defining and considering the needs of not only today but also tomorrow.

This is a very relative matter. You need to answer accordingly if you design for masses; you need to have different answers if you design exclusively. But the common ground is “A good design should be honest,” as Dieter Rams said.

A good design provides you with additional comfort, facilitates your life; give you time, status, motivation, productivity, safety. A good design can save your life. A good design essentially possesses a very special accumulation of thought. A good design covers today and tomorrow; therefore, I think it is a wrong investment not to invest in a good design.

22oC room temperature, 20% humidity, environmental sound under 32db, a good music, a bit of concentration... Joking aside, there is no formulation, recipe of the creativity process in design. What you feed on, what you collect, anything you are influenced by at the moment takes you to a journey. With an image, a line, a dream, you try to go somewhere; you just chase a thought, a function, a meaning.

I think I’ve been influenced by John HESKETT most about design narration and criticism.

“Behind the whole chaos created by foam and bubbles of advertisement and promotion, behind the visual skill shows of master designers chasing the stardom, beyond the declarations of design gurus and the rubbish of lifestyle salespersons, “there lies a simple truth.

Design is a basic characteristic which makes human. It is a must that determines the quality of human’s life,” says John Heskett.

Philippe Starck, Zaha Hadid and Tadao Ando are other three people who have affected me most.

I don’t believe in such a phenomenon as the greatest design. Design is a quite relative concept comprised of several disciplines. It is impossible to prove a claim such as “the greatest” and believe that in such a comprehensive conceptual phenomenon. One cannot achieve being the greatest in the end and decided it in a professional discipline of which learning and experiencing process lasts for life. “I think the best design is what is yet to be designed.”

If hadn’t become a designer, I’d have become a designer. This is a passion; you sleep and wake up with this passion. I haven’t thought of anything else. I haven’t wanted to become anything else.

We conduct several different design projects as a team simultaneously. We have many projects from living space furniture to a special kitchen collection and design of lighting products; some of them are complete, others are in the development stage, and some of them are just an idea. We are going to launch our own brand towards the end of 2019.

Design is a phenomenon that exist in every field that comes to mind such as communication, transportation, education, fashion, public services, living spaces and their accessories. It is the most exhaustive phenomenon which emerged with the history of humankind and has evolved and become mature with it and has caused technological, organizational and cultural changes. Good design means more function, better ergonomics, more economic production, and more efficient use of resources. As objectives of these values evolve for better, there will be better physical and communicational conditions. Such development will also enhance the quality of social life.

The more I’m free and the more I can contribute from myself while working on a project, the happier I become and the more I own that project. I’m more content with projects of which boundaries I set. I usually like investigating the traces of ethnic cultures and their philosophies. I find their beliefs, cultures, lifestyles, and the symbols, marks, forms and philosophies which they derive from the sum of the former. I think these are the projects I’m most satisfied with in which I am most free and explore new things.

The very rapid change in technology in the last 30 years has caused unbelievable changes in the discipline of design. Technology and design are developing in parallel. I think our all lifestyles and consumption habits will transform completely in the next 30 years. Our ways of transportation will change, concept of space and boundaries will be questioned, and even our forms of communication will change. I believe the humankind will discover the limitless energy resource, and it will be a breakpoint which will change everything. I believe that the discipline of design developing in parallel with the rapid and merciless advancement of technology needs to develop by ensuring efficient and proper use of world’s resources and contributing to sustainability. I believe sustainable design and inclusive design will develop for a better and more livable world.

Each project has its own timing. This also reflects the soul and story of that project actually. While some complex and difficult projects are completed in a very short time, other design projects cannot be completed for life. Some of the design projects have been designed to create a connection, a story between themselves and their users; this story builds up as it is experienced. Other design projects transform and evolve over time and acquire another function. Therefore, it is not much possible to assign a duration for a design project.

There is no certain methodology of starting a design project. An idea is like a seed; you sow it, and then, with a bit of water, it turns its first leaf to the sun. This is the first acquaintance of the seed with the sun. It is nourished by the sun; then it grows and fruits. A design idea is like that. That idea seed is first sowed in your thoughts, waits there and is watered with your practices. After the thought has completed its first maturation, a pen and a paper become a sun to that thought, and the idea grows on that paper.

When starting a design project, I review all meaningful or meaningless source on that matter, take down notes and draw sketches. Then I combine them.

Design is made to set the trend in the first place. After setting the trends, humans start to design to comply with the trend. It is a vicious cycle. It is the same as the chicken and egg situation.

I think design is one of the disciplines using the technology at its highest level. From artificial intelligence to augmented reality, virtual reality; 3D printers to laser scanners; multi-axis CNCs to high-capacity computers; new custom materials to very special drawing and rendering programs, many instruments and programs are used to produce ideas and practice in the discipline of design. I don’t think it is possible for the discipline of design to improve without technology. As the technology advances, there are fewer limits before the design.

We are using all instruments from 3D printers to multi-axis CNCs, laser scanners to molding systems, AR and VR systems to rendering programs within today’s technology. But we never let technology kill the spirit of our designs.

I believe everything has a story behind it. I want people to understand this story in our designs.

I cannot help my curiosity when I see a product that is new and I like very much. I try to examine all of it. Such curiosity makes you act unexpectedly in unexpected places, surely. You can find yourself laying under a table like a mechanic. But when I see an admirable product, I respect the designer most and feel the honor as much as them. Because good design will save the world.

Of course, I believe co-design. Another person may see a detail that you take a close look at but cannot solve. I believe there is no improvement without criticism. I care a lot about the opinions of my partner and team at QZENS Furniture & Design which I am the co-founder. We work as a team in many projects.

I cannot give a precise answer to this question. We are in touch with many people; each of them has different perspectives and approaches. You take a piece of every person you touch and their pieces become a whole inside you. A designer creates a whole with what they see, touch, utilize, read and think and then express them in their own interpretation to provide a work. I think there are many colors like a rainbow, but their combination forms a single color, the while.

I don’t claim I’m a master designer in a world in which so many precious masters have produced so many works. I’m certainly very proud of having contended and been deemed worthy of an award in front of such a great jury in the most participated design contest of the world; but, to me, such awards are like sources of motivation borrowed to do better, succeed more.

I think, God bless their souls, I would do so with John Heskett and Zaha Hadid.

I’ve been personally engaged in furniture design and production since my childhood. The fact that spatial shells are shaped around the furniture forms we manufacture and the objective and formal relationship between the space and furniture forced me to question the form, color and harmony of every object. So, I’ve been made in the mold of design, and then, received design education but what influenced me as much as design was “structure”.

I think the limits of material are the biggest barrier to design, therefore I studied Civil Engineering to push the limits of objects. The Design-Resistance relationship, that is, combining the disciplines of Design and Engineering have contributed to me through unique experiences.

QZENS is a company with a passion for creating elegant products and projects that blend art and technology, reject mediocrity and inspire awe.

We strive to share our view of luxury and offer an extraordinary experience with our products that have a story, where creativity and originality are felt in every detail, and at the same time have high material quality.

By combining modern production techniques with craftsmanship, we offer unique products and large-scale international projects with extraordinary details, personalized and site-specific productions.

Design, I think, is a spaceless and timeless journey that you start with a line and you don’t know where it will end. It is actually a deep hypnosis you start with a shadow, sometimes an image, a melody and sometimes a color without preparation and you get free of your self and identity. It is a talismanic disappearance in which you think you get somewhere but you cannot actually. Design is the state of productivity and expression you find during such disappearances.

I mostly design furniture for different living spaces. I like using wood with metal, glass, textile, marble and different materials in general. I am designing a very special kitchen collection formed by different styles. I have a particular interest in lighting. I am experimenting to integrate design approaches of different disciplines into the furniture design. I have started a long-term project for electronically integrated furniture. I am also working in inclusive design.

One of my favorite designs is GARDEN, designed by Peter Opsvik in 1985. Garden is an artistic object approach that changes all sitting habits. It is a design that breaks the patterns of seating behavior and function that we have memorized with a revolutionary and aesthetic rebellion. It is an icon and an art object at the same time. Peter Opsvik is too different a designer to fit into a few sentences here. As a designer whose Varier chair design was selected as one of the 50 designs that changed the world, he deserves more than our admiration.

I don’t recall a specific turning point as the very first thing I designed—it feels like shaping forms and following them has always been part of who I am. But looking back, the first design I can clearly remember for a company was a customer and teller counter for a bank branch. It was a complex piece involving a steel substructure, special cladding details, and custom glass elements.

Wood is my irreplaceable material. Yet when combined with marble, glass, and metal, these materials together open up the door to an infinite universe of possibilities.

There’s no specific time—it’s a fluid, abstract state. Sometimes after watching a film, listening to music, reading a book, or even just sitting silently, creativity strikes. There have been moments when I suddenly woke up at 4:00 a.m. with an idea, immediately reaching for my pen—some of those moments became pivotal in my life. Creativity is a kind of small madness that exists outside of space and time, yet somehow within it too.

I have a different approach to this question. Of course, when I design, I go through different emotions that go to extremes, but what is different is what the thing I design thinks. Although every design I make has emotions that it expresses through its form, its history, its source of inspiration, it has a feeling and expression that is formed at its core. Therefore, when I design this combination of form and function, I let it speak to me like a human being. This speaking is not a communication with words, but visual perception also has a language. Unfortunately, this is not a phenomenon that can be explained or taught. When you design a product, you give it a body and a set of meanings. The acceptance of what you design can only be possible with the way you approach it. I attach great importance to this inner peace and the product's appreciation of itself and its features. I think this approach is what makes it alive when it is inanimate. Therefore, when you look at a product, let it talk to you, listen to it, and it will open the doors to other worlds.

All efforts are sometimes made to make a dream come true. I think one of the greatest joys of my soul is to physically touch and feel a product I have designed. This is an indescribable feeling. The meeting of a design that grows in your thoughts and then materializes in your sketches and drawings with the real world. This is a process as miraculous as the moment of birth. The first meeting, the first touch, the first time you stand in front of it and watch it for the first time contains a lot of complex emotions.

“Beyond all the confusion created by the froth and bubble of advertising and publicity, beyond the visual pyrotechnics of virtuoso designers seeking stardom, beyond the pronouncements of design gurus and the snake-oil salesmen of lifestyles, lies a simple truth."

I believe what makes a design successful is that it presents you with the simple truth behind it.

This is a very relative issue. If you are designing for the masses you should have one answer, if you are designing for individuals you should have another answer. But what they all have in common is, as Dieter Rams says, "Good design has to be honest."

Design is a phenomenon that exist in every field that comes to mind such as communication, transportation, education, fashion, public services, living spaces and their accessories. It is the most exhaustive phenomenon which emerged with the history of humankind and has evolved and become mature with it and has caused technological, organizational and cultural changes. Good design means more function, better ergonomics, more economic production, and more efficient use of resources. As objectives of these values evolve for better, there will be better physical and communicational conditions. Such development will also enhance the quality of social life.

The very rapid change in technology in the last 30 years has caused unbelievable changes in the discipline of design. Technology and design are developing in parallel. I think our all lifestyles and consumption habits will transform completely in the next 30 years. Our ways of transportation will change, concept of space and boundaries will be questioned, and even our forms of communication will change. I believe the humankind will discover the limitless energy resource, and it will be a breakpoint which will change everything. I believe that the discipline of design developing in parallel with the rapid and merciless advancement of technology needs to develop by ensuring efficient and proper use of world’s resources and contributing to sustainability. I believe sustainable design and inclusive design will develop for a better and more livable world.

The last exhibition I participated in was part of a collective art event: the ARTNOVA Art Fair held in Ankara, Turkey. It brought together many artists, designers, and academics from different disciplines. As for the next one, I don't have a date set yet.

I usually like investigating the traces of ethnic cultures and their philosophies. I find their beliefs, cultures, lifestyles, and the symbols, marks, forms and philosophies which they derive from the sum of the former. I think these are the projects I’m most satisfied with in which I am most free and explore new things.

I believe everything has a story behind it. I want people to understand this story in our designs.

I live in Ankara, Turkey. I think that the rich history of Anatolia and the fact that it has been home to different civilizations has a direct impact and positive contribution to my designs. Of course, I can also say that the details of different cultures that I have observed during my travels in different geographies have inspired me and contributed greatly to my designs.

There is no certain methodology of starting a design project. An idea is like a seed; you sow it, and then, with a bit of water, it turns its first leaf to the sun. This is the first acquaintance of the seed with the sun. It is nourished by the sun; then it grows and fruits. A design idea is like that. That idea seed is first sowed in your thoughts, waits there and is watered with your practices. After the thought has completed its first maturation, a pen and a paper become a sun to that thought, and the idea grows on that paper.

When starting a design project, I review all meaningful or meaningless source on that matter, take down notes and draw sketches. Then I combine them.

There’s no such thing as a “standard” day for me. Every day follows its own schedule and rhythm. I always start early—usually around 7:00 a.m. I mostly work on product or interior designs either early in the morning or very late at night; I value silence and minimal movement. A phone ringing or a message popping up—routine business duties—can kill my focus and creative impulse. When I design, I need to shut out all distractions and lose myself in the moment, often with music.

Design is a very long journey which requires great amount of loyalty and labor. They should take the time and show patience enough to become mature in such an age when everything is consumed rapidly. Otherwise, they will be disappointed most of the time.

The best part is how the problem-solving mindset nurtured by design spills over into human relationships—empathy and understanding challenges become second nature. The downside? You begin to see every flaw, every tiny problem. Eventually, everything starts to bother you. Learning to live with that can be tough.

In such an abstract and immeasurable field like design, I don’t think there can be a single golden rule. But if I had to name the most important principle for me, it’s “understanding.” Not just understanding the client or the need, but understanding the material itself. Every material has its own language, texture, elasticity, load-bearing behavior, and thermal response. I start by having a conversation with the material in my mind. When I design, say, a table, all the materials come together in my head, flying around in various scenarios, forming and reforming to create conceptual integrity. Understanding and communicating with the material is my core design philosophy.

I believe the answer lies in what I just shared: the ability to understand. That is the most essential skill for a designer.

We are using all instruments from 3D printers to multi-axis CNCs, laser scanners to molding systems, AR and VR systems to rendering programs within today’s technology. But we never let technology kill the spirit of our designs.

When designing, time and space cease to exist. It’s impossible for me to design without detaching from both. That’s why I often lose track of time. Sometimes it creates chaos, but I simply can’t battle with time when I’m deep into the process.

Each project has its own timing. This also reflects the soul and story of that project actually. While some complex and difficult projects are completed in a very short time, other design projects cannot be completed for life. Some of the design projects have been designed to create a connection, a story between themselves and their users; this story builds up as it is experienced. Other design projects transform and evolve over time and acquire another function. Therefore, it is not much possible to assign a duration for a design project.

Under an NDA, I designed a 3,500 m² private mansion and managed the entire turnkey process—from architectural works to custom furniture and accessories. It was located in a geographically challenging area with limited communication infrastructure, and the project took about 2.5 years. I handled every detail. When the owner moved in, he brought only his clothes and a vast art collection. Since then, I’ve done other projects of a similar scale, but this one was especially intense because every piece was custom-designed and handcrafted. Unfortunately, due to confidentiality, it’s like writing in water—you can’t share your most important works. It’s a hidden garden.

We have a clientele that includes well-known personalities such as heads of state, important business people and artists. However, due to the confidentiality of our clients, I cannot disclose their names.

I enjoy designing furniture and lighting the most. More than just enjoyment, these are my greatest passions.

This summer, we opened the first store of our brand QZENS in Ankara. This space now serves as the main showcase for all our products and also includes an experience center. Following the opening, our next step is to make our products available at selected points of sale in different countries. The idea of my designs reaching more people across the world is one of the things that excites me the most right now.

I believe in co-design. Another person may see a detail that you take a close look at but cannot solve. I believe there is no improvement without criticism. I care a lot about the opinions of my partner and team at QZENS Furniture, Art & Design which I am the co-founder and Head of Design. We work as a team in many projects.

You can contact us via Qzens website qzens.com, our social media accounts and our offices in Ankara and Milan.

Nature was not used as a decorative reference but as a structural principle. Instead of copying the appearance of branches and thorns, I studied how they grow, connect, and create resilient systems through simple rules. This inspired a modular lighting structure that appears organic while remaining highly rational in production. The contrast between sharp silhouettes and soft illumination became the project's defining idea, transforming a symbol of protection and resilience into an object that brings warmth, atmosphere, and emotional value to architectural spaces.

The greatest challenge was reducing the system to only two components without limiting its creative potential. Every element had to perform multiple structural and visual functions while remaining easy to manufacture and assemble. My civil engineering background strongly influenced this process by encouraging efficiency through geometry rather than complexity. Like structural systems in architecture, a limited number of precisely designed elements can generate countless stable configurations with minimal material and maximum flexibility.

The decision to use a 120-degree geometry emerged after studying recurring patterns in nature, from branching systems to cellular formations. I was fascinated by how this angle repeatedly appears where efficiency, balance, and growth coexist. Rather than treating geometry as decoration, I adopted it as the project's structural language. It allows each module to expand naturally in multiple directions while preserving visual harmony, making every composition appear spontaneous despite being governed by precise geometric logic.

Scalability was a fundamental objective from the beginning. Thorn Lighting was designed as a modular system that can expand from a small sculptural installation to large architectural compositions without changing its core elements. This flexibility allows designers to respond to different spatial requirements while maintaining a consistent visual identity. Because every new module follows the same structural logic, larger installations preserve both their physical stability and their balanced organic appearance.

Light and shadow were considered as important as the object itself. The angular geometry creates changing shadow patterns that evolve throughout the day, making each installation visually dynamic. At the same time, the lighting performance had to remain comfortable and functional rather than purely sculptural. By carefully controlling the relationship between the illuminated surfaces and the structural elements, the fixture produces atmospheric compositions while delivering balanced light suitable for architectural environments.

The development process between 2015 and 2018 allowed the concept to mature rather than simply evolve. Early ideas focused on creating a sculptural object inspired by nature, but over time the project became a modular system adaptable to different architectural contexts. Winning the A' Design Award was not the end of this journey. The research and development process continued to prepare the product for the market, and it still evolves today by integrating emerging technologies and new production possibilities. For me, good design is never static, it continuously grows and improves.

Parametric thinking played a fundamental role in the project because it allowed a limited number of components to generate countless compositions. Rather than designing fixed fixtures, I designed a system governed by geometric relationships and repetition. Symmetry provides visual balance, while parametric flexibility allows controlled irregularity that resembles natural growth. This mathematical approach makes Thorn Lighting adaptable to different spaces without losing its identity, ensuring every installation feels both unique and structurally coherent.

I believe modularity will become increasingly important as architecture demands more adaptable and sustainable solutions. Thorn Lighting demonstrates that a lighting system can evolve with a space instead of being designed for only one configuration. By combining a minimal number of components with unlimited compositional freedom, the project encourages designers to create site-specific installations while reducing production complexity and material waste. This balance between flexibility and efficiency represents an important direction for future lighting design.

Wood was chosen because it reinforces the dialogue between nature and industrial production. While the geometry is sharp and contemporary, the warmth and texture of wood introduce a human quality that softens the composition. It also reflects the project's central narrative of transforming natural inspiration into a functional design object. Rather than competing with the lighting technology, the material creates balance, allowing the fixture to feel both sculptural and approachable within architectural interiors.

My advice would be to study nature as a system rather than as a collection of beautiful forms. The most meaningful inspiration comes from understanding how natural structures grow, adapt, and achieve efficiency with remarkable simplicity. When these principles are translated instead of copied, the result feels authentic rather than decorative. Designers should also embrace iteration, because the strongest balance between organic expression and functional performance usually emerges through careful refinement rather than a single creative gesture.

My visit to Ephesus in July 2022 was a turning point in shaping the conceptual foundation of Lagoon Kitchen. Walking among the ruins and witnessing the refined proportions, columned spaces, and interplay between light and shadow deeply influenced how I approached the idea of a kitchen not just as a utilitarian space but as an architectural experience. The fluted motifs, stepped forms, and the serene balance of symmetry found in Hellenistic structures inspired the layout and vertical rhythm of the design. Lagoon Kitchen reflects this spirit by merging timeless Greek aesthetics with a contemporary spatial flow that feels both ceremonial and functional.

The idea of introducing varying countertop heights came from observing how people naturally gather and move around kitchen spaces. In Lagoon Kitchen, the different levels allow for a seamless transition between preparation, presentation, and conversation. The raised marble block serves as a sculptural anchor, reminiscent of an altar, while the lower wooden surfaces invite more relaxed interaction. This configuration encourages both utility and sociability, turning the island into a dynamic landscape rather than a static work surface.

Creating the finishes for the cabinet doors was like composing a layered painting. We started with hand-applied blue pigments to evoke the depth of the Aegean Sea, then added delicate touches of gold leaf to reflect the warmth of sunlit shores. Finally, we used copper oxidation techniques to introduce an organic unpredictability. No two panels are exactly alike. The result is a surface that feels alive, shifting in tone with the light…

Merging ancient temple aesthetics with modern functionality was one of the most rewarding challenges of this project. We wanted the space to feel like a place of ritual, with tall vertical forms and symmetrical balance, but also to operate with ease. Hidden automated drawers, single-finger touch systems, and soft-close mechanisms were carefully integrated behind classical detailing. This required precise planning so that modern elements would remain invisible until used. The goal was to let innovation serve the design quietly, allowing the mythic atmosphere to remain undisturbed.

The fluted details in Lagoon Kitchen were directly inspired by the columns of the Temple of Artemis in Ephesus and the Temple of Apollo in Didim. The stepped base of the island echoes the temple foundations, while the vertical cabinet divisions reflect classical colonnades. We also designed the lighting to mimic the way sunlight filters into ancient structures, creating a calm and sacred atmosphere. These references helped us root the kitchen in a sense of place and history while keeping the overall design contemporary and functional.

We chose Volakas marble for both its physical beauty and symbolic resonance. Its subtle grey veining against a soft white background reminded me of seafoam gliding over golden shores. It became the perfect metaphor for the meeting of land and water. This marble anchors the island unit while harmonizing with the warm-toned cabinetry and brushed brass details. It was important for us that the material not only elevate the aesthetic but also deepen the emotional and cultural associations within the space.

The upper lift system was born from a desire to challenge conventional kitchen ergonomics. Traditional overhead cabinets can be difficult to access, especially for users of different heights. By integrating a motorized lift mechanism, we created a way for these upper compartments to gracefully descend to the user’s level with a single touch. The movement is quiet and slow, in harmony with the temple-like ambiance of the kitchen. It adds a sense of ceremony to even the most ordinary task, reinforcing our belief that luxury lies in both ease and experience.

The sculptural elements and detailed carvings in Lagoon Kitchen required meticulous collaboration between digital and human processes. We used CNC milling to achieve consistency in the fluting and relief patterns, especially in curved corners and layered frames. However, the final definition and surface texture were refined by hand to remove the rigidity of machine precision. This interplay between technology and touch was essential in capturing the expressive quality of Hellenistic stonework, where craftsmanship was always visible in the smallest details.

Lighting was essential in creating the calm and timeless atmosphere we envisioned for Lagoon Kitchen. The fade-to-black system allows the lights to dim gradually, much like the shifting light in ancient temples. This soft transition enhances the sculptural details without overwhelming them. It brings a sense of calm and elegance to the space, making everyday use feel more thoughtful and immersive.

Winning a Silver A’ Design Award with Lagoon Kitchen affirmed our belief that cultural memory can live within modern environments in ways that are relevant and inspiring. This project has shown us that the kitchen can evolve beyond minimalism and convenience to become a sculptural and emotional center of the home. I believe it opens new pathways for integrating regional identity, craftsmanship, and advanced technology into future kitchen design. It encourages a design philosophy that respects the past while embracing the intelligence of the present.

The curvilinear language of the Jazz Bookcase draws inspiration from the sculptural silhouettes of both the saxophone and the jazz bass. These two instruments are not only iconic in sound but also in form. The sweeping curves of the jazz bass body, with its voluminous yet elegant stance, informed the rounded wooden panels and the vertical balance of the piece. Meanwhile, the fluid and coiling form of the saxophone guided the movement of the copper inlays and the rhythm of the surface detailing. I was interested in how these instruments convey emotion through both their presence and their shape. My aim was to translate that sense of flow and resonance into a piece of furniture that feels lyrical, like a visual improvisation rooted in harmony and structure.

Integrating the LED lighting system was one of the more technical aspects of the design. We wanted a soft, ambient glow that would feel atmospheric, like the warm lighting found in 1920s jazz venues. The challenge was to diffuse the light in a way that would not produce harsh reflections on the copper surfaces. We developed a layered light panel system with hidden reflectors and subtle dimming options to spread the light evenly. The result is a warm and almost liquid radiance that enhances the contours of the bookcase and shifts subtly throughout the day, just like the mood of a jazz improvisation.

The material palette was chosen to create both contrast and harmony. The matte black exterior acts like a stage. It grounds the piece and gives it a sense of mystery. In contrast, the copper interior brings warmth, energy, and movement, much like the Jazz Age itself. This juxtaposition mirrors the era’s elegance and vibrancy. The restraint of Art Deco geometry paired with the bold and emotional spirit of jazz music. I wanted viewers to feel a visual rhythm when looking at the piece, much like hearing a syncopated beat against a smooth melody.

With a height of 224 cm, maintaining both balance and usability was crucial. The five shelf compartments were carefully spaced to accommodate various book sizes while preserving the vertical rhythm of the piece. The curved side panels, while sculptural, were designed with structural integrity in mind, subtly tapering to prevent visual heaviness. This ensured the piece remained grounded while still appearing dynamic.

From the beginning, this project was a true collaboration. Working with artisans allowed us to fine-tune the copper finishes, ensuring they had the right patina and warmth. The lighting engineers helped us prototype and refine the LED integration. This interdisciplinary approach made the piece richer. It brought together tactile sensitivity and technical precision. Each step required dialogue between creative vision and practical know-how, and that process ultimately shaped a bookcase that feels more like an installation than just a piece of furniture.

I was inspired to break away from traditional bookcase formats because I believe storage furniture can be just as expressive as any art object. Jazz music taught us to improvise, to bend rules and explore emotion through structure. I applied that same thinking here. Rather than simple straight lines and open shelves, I wanted to create something that felt alive, something that invites interaction and contemplation. It still holds books and objects, of course, but it also tells a story, one of rhythm, movement, and expressive form.

The way the copper accents respond to light was an essential part of the design narrative. They appear to shift in tone depending on the time of day or the angle of view. Sometimes bold, sometimes subtle. This interactive quality made me think of jazz improvisation, where each performance is slightly different. It encouraged me to design a piece that was never static but always engaging. The finishes and forms were selected specifically to enhance this sense of variation and playfulness in daily use.

Receiving recognition through the A’ Design Award has been incredibly meaningful. It confirmed that a design rooted in emotion, narrative, and experimentation can resonate beyond its function. Jazz Bookcase expanded my understanding of how furniture can connect people to history, music, and atmosphere. It encouraged me to keep exploring storytelling through form and material, and to embrace bold gestures. Going forward, I want to continue creating pieces that spark curiosity and offer more than just utility.

The key was to let the spirit of the 1920s guide the form while letting today’s tools shape the execution. We preserved the Art Deco proportions and decorative language but used CNC milling to create precise curvature and integrate the lighting elements flawlessly. The lighting itself is energy-efficient, dimmable, and seamlessly embedded. It represents a contemporary layer over a nostalgic frame. This fusion allowed the piece to celebrate its influences without becoming a replica.

The Jazz Bookcase reflects QZENS Furniture’s core mission of blending art and technology to create emotionally resonant design. We pushed production boundaries with curved forms, layered LED systems, and refined metal finishes. The result is a piece that feels more like an experience than an object. I believe this project opened new doors for us both in terms of how we work and what we dare to attempt. It is a reminder that innovation can be poetic and that form, function, and feeling can live together harmoniously.

With Flow Sideboard, I was drawn to the aerodynamic elegance of 1930s Streamline design—a style that celebrates movement, even in stillness. My intention wasn’t to replicate a vintage aesthetic, but to reinterpret its flowing language in a way that feels relevant today. I kept the form soft and continuous, removing visual breaks, while integrating modern storage solutions that suit contemporary living. This balance between nostalgic inspiration and functional clarity allowed the piece to feel both familiar and forward-looking.

The use of curved wood modules paired with copper-toned accents was a deliberate choice to evoke both warmth and movement. The wood grain enhances the soft contours, while the copper detailing reflects light in a way that reinforces the aerodynamic feel. I wanted materials that could express fluidity without compromising structure. These elements work together to create a gentle rhythm across the surface, almost like the sideboard is in motion. They also establish a tactile dialogue between organic and metallic textures.

Designing angled legs that appear light and dynamic, while still offering strong support, required close collaboration between design and engineering. The legs are not only tilted but also tapered, which meant we had to analyze load distribution carefully.

We approached this project by first defining what required absolute precision and where a human hand could bring emotional depth. CNC allowed us to shape the curved modules with exact tolerances, especially where multiple elements meet. But the final sanding, lacquer work, and copper detailing were all done by hand. This ensured each unit maintained individuality. By letting technology handle the repetition and craftsmanship bring soul, we achieved a result that feels both refined and expressive.

The fluid lines of the piece made us rethink how drawers and doors should open. Traditional handles or push-latches felt visually disruptive. So, we developed a recessed grip system that’s integrated into the form itself, following the curve of each module. It allows users to interact with the furniture naturally, without breaking its silhouette. This solution was both functional and poetic.

Flow Sideboard blends retro influences with futuristic clarity, and that creates a unique voice. I think there’s a growing desire in design to move away from rigid minimalism toward something more emotional and sculptural. This piece encourages that shift. It suggests that furniture can feel fast, soft, and personal, without losing its function.

We spent a lot of time refining the proportions to make sure the piece was visually balanced and functionally generous. The 225 cm width offers substantial storage, which is important for dining or living spaces, while the 70 cm height makes it approachable and ergonomic. The 50 cm depth allows for large objects without overwhelming the room. These measurements also helped maintain the long, low silhouette that defines streamline design.

I chose a soft matte lacquer for its ability to diffuse light and emphasize the contours of the form. It invites touch, avoids glare, and feels calm. The metallic accents were treated with a warm copper tone, not too polished, so they would gently contrast without overpowering the wood. This pairing of matte and metallic finishes was meant to create a layered, sensory experience. One that catches the eye but also rewards closer interaction.

At QZENS, we often talk about creating objects that live between sculpture and function. Flow Sideboard embodies that idea. It brings together clean geometry, expressive form, and thoughtful engineering. It’s not just about decoration or practicality. It’s about emotional resonance. This project pushes our vision forward by proving that design can be technically ambitious while still feeling human and warm. It’s a step toward more fluid, story-driven pieces in our collection.

Receiving the Iron A' Design Award was a meaningful recognition of the risks we took with Flow. What I think sets the design apart is how it integrates multiple layers: historical reference, engineering innovation, tactile beauty, into one coherent voice. It’s a piece that invites users to look twice, to engage with its form, and to discover new details over time. That’s the kind of experience I strive for in design, and Flow is a glimpse of where I hope to take furniture in the future.

The design process for the Wings Sideboard began with a fascination for vertical elegance and ornamental rhythm found in both Gothic and Art Deco architecture. Gothic forms, with their soaring arches and spiritual symbolism, inspired the sense of aspiration and upward movement in the piece. Meanwhile, Art Deco contributed a sense of order, symmetry, and refined opulence. Rather than merging these styles literally, I focused on their shared essence: Graceful lines, layered geometry, and emotional depth. The wings on the front panels, for example, are sculpted to evoke both architectural structure and symbolic uplift.

Creating the copper-coated wing elements was a delicate balancing act. The forms needed to be precise enough to align perfectly with the overall structure, but also soft enough to preserve the handmade feel. We started with CNC-milled bases to define the shape, and then each piece was hand-finished and copper-coated using a brushed technique. Matching the two processes took time. Especially when working with organic curves. But it was worth it, because the final result carries both technical clarity and the tactile quality of something crafted by hand.

The idea of levitation was central to the design—how to make something substantial feel as though it’s floating. We achieved this by designing slender, tapered metal legs that angle slightly outward, distributing the weight without visually anchoring the piece too heavily. Internally, a steel substructure ensures stability while keeping the frame discreet. It was important to hide the strength, so what you see is elegance and lift, not bulk. This design lets the piece feel as though it’s hovering; light, but never fragile.

For the concealed hinge mechanism, we wanted to eliminate any visible hardware that might interrupt the flow of the surface. The challenge was to create a smooth, reliable movement without compromising the slim profile of the doors. After several prototypes, we developed a custom hinge integrated into the inner structure, allowing the doors to open in a quiet, gliding motion. It adds to the sense of mystery. Doors open as if by intention, not mechanism and reinforces the overall visual purity of the piece.

The angelic wing motif was never just an aesthetic choice. It carried emotional and symbolic meaning from the beginning. Wings are often seen as symbols of freedom, protection, and transcendence. By integrating this form into a functional object, we hoped to create something that resonates on a deeper level. It's not only a sideboard, but a presence in the room, a reminder of something uplifting. I believe this connection encourages people to view furniture not just as utility, but as part of their personal story.

The contrast between dark wood and copper was inspired by celestial imagery… Shadow and light, earth and sky. The dark surface creates a grounding effect, while the copper accents bring warmth and movement. This palette allowed us to emphasize the silhouette and surface relief, enhancing the sense of elevation. It also gave the piece a timeless quality. Something rooted in natural materials, but visually rich and dramatic.

We gave just as much thought to the interior as we did to the exterior. The fabric-lined compartments add a layer of softness and surprise when the piece is opened. We chose a neutral but tactile material that contrasts gently with the harder surfaces outside. Functionally, the compartments are designed for flexible storage, but visually, they offer a quiet counterpart to the expressive exterior. This contrast creates a holistic experience; structured outside, inviting inside.

In studying wing forms, I was fascinated by how movement is embedded in their structure. Even when still, they imply flight. We looked at angelic and mythological representations, as well as anatomical sketches, to understand the flow of lines and tension in curves. These observations helped shape the dynamic front panels of the piece, giving them a sense of motion that’s both directional and balanced. The goal was to make the cabinet feel like it’s caught in a quiet moment of unfolding, as if it could lift off at any second.

Wings Sideboard reaffirmed our belief that true luxury lies in the blend of precision and emotion. Digital tools allowed us to refine the complex forms and maintain tight tolerances, while artisanal techniques brought depth and texture. This hybrid process not only improved the final product but it expanded our creative thinking. I see this approach becoming more important in future furniture design, where technology supports, but doesn’t replace, the human touch. It’s a way of keeping design deeply connected to both innovation and craft.

Being recognized with an A’ Design Award for Wings Sideboard was a proud moment. It validated the emotional and technical ambition behind the project. It’s encouraged me to continue exploring forms that tell stories and carry symbolic weight, while still functioning beautifully. I see this award as motivation to keep bridging art, architecture, and furniture in ways that are both thoughtful and bold.

When designing the Topkapi Sideboard, I was fascinated by the intricate geometry found in Turkish-Islamic art, especially the Zencerek border motifs and the layered Mukarnas forms. My goal was to reinterpret these deeply symbolic patterns using modern methods, so they could be appreciated not only as decorative references but as part of the structure itself. Through CNC carving, we gave these motifs physical depth, while still preserving their rhythmic elegance. It was a way to bridge time, honoring centuries-old design language within a contemporary, functional form.

The six blue legs are a subtle homage to the Blue Mosque’s iconic minarets. These architectural forms have always struck me with their vertical clarity and balance. I wanted to translate that same presence into the base of the sideboard, not only for visual reference but also to lift the structure gracefully. Functionally, the legs provide solid support while visually lightening the mass of the piece. Their color was carefully chosen to echo the deep blue Iznik tiles found in Ottoman architecture, bringing a serene yet bold accent to the design.

Combining CNC carving with hand-finishing was both challenging and rewarding. The geometric patterns required high precision to look consistent across panels, so we started with digital modeling and CNC milling to define the structure. But to avoid a flat, mechanical finish, each piece was then hand-sanded and softened to bring out a more natural texture. Aligning these two processes took time, we had to recalibrate tools to avoid damaging delicate edges. In the end, this hybrid method allowed us to highlight the depth and character of each motif in a way that felt both crafted and contemporary.

Spending time in the gardens of Topkapi Palace allowed me to slow down and really absorb the layered richness of Ottoman design. I wasn’t just looking at patterns. I was experiencing how they existed in space, how they filtered light, framed views, and created rhythm within stillness. The Mukarnas details on ceilings and the delicate Zencerek borders along walls and tiles gave me a sense of visual flow that I wanted to translate into the sideboard. Rather than treating them as surface decoration, I tried to interpret these motifs as structural expressions, letting their repetition and layering guide the rhythm of the cabinet doors. It became about capturing a feeling, not replicating a style.

For me, combining brass detailing with modern lacquer finishes was about creating a dialogue between time periods. The brass adds a sense of richness and heritage, while the lacquer offers clarity and contrast. I didn’t want the piece to feel too historical or too futuristic. Instead, the idea was to let each material highlight the other’s character. The glossy lacquer surface reflects light in a way that sets off the warmth of the brass, and together they create a balanced, layered aesthetic that feels rooted yet fresh.

The choice of deep red tones for the interior was inspired by the rich textile palettes often found in Ottoman interiors, especially in private rooms and tented pavilions. It evokes warmth, mystery, and a sense of intimacy. I also wanted the interior to contrast with the cooler tones of the exterior, much like how historical architecture often surprises you with unexpected color and ornament inside. This red doesn’t dominate but quietly supports the narrative of East meeting West, and tradition blending with modernity.

The copper top panel was developed through a process of hand-brushing and patina treatment, allowing each piece to have a slightly different finish. This artisanal technique gives the copper a weathered look that tells a visual story, much like the aged metal details found in historic gates or ceremonial objects. We didn’t want a shiny surface; we wanted something that felt like it had a past. This element helps ground the sideboard and deepens the cultural connection, making it feel like more than just a storage unit, it becomes a narrative object.

We spent a lot of time making sure the interior worked just as well as the exterior looked. The artistic facade is bold and detailed, but inside, the layout is clean and highly functional. Adjustable shelves and soft-close drawer make it suitable for everything from dining ware to documents. We made sure the outer design didn’t interfere with the usability. In fact, the structural decisions for the decorative panels were coordinated with the internal divisions, so the function and form could truly support one another.

This project reinforced my belief that the future of furniture design lies in meaningful storytelling combined with modern technique. We no longer need to choose between old and new, we can merge them thoughtfully. Working on the Topkapi Sideboard taught me how powerful it can be to bring cultural references into everyday objects, as long as they are handled with care and authenticity. It also showed me how digital tools can serve craftsmanship rather than replace it, which is a lesson I carry into every new project.

Winning the Silver A' Design Award with the Topkapi Sideboard has been both an honor and a turning point. It encouraged us at QZENS to continue exploring culturally rooted design with a modern sensibility. This piece opened the door to thinking more boldly about how heritage can inform innovation, not just aesthetically, but conceptually. I see it influencing future collections by encouraging deeper research, richer materiality, and a continued focus on storytelling as the core of design.

My visit to Paris in 2023 gave me the chance to explore the subtle elegance of neoclassical buildings and the decorative richness of Art Deco interiors. What fascinated me most was how symmetry and ornamentation could feel both grand and restrained. These influences naturally found their way into the design of the Focal Bookcase. The vertical brass columns and balanced shelf arrangement reflect this harmony. Rather than directly replicating historical details, I aimed to reinterpret their essence in a clean, modern language that still carries a sense of timeless beauty.

Creating the illusion of floating shelves was both a design goal and a technical challenge. We wanted the shelves to feel weightless, yet they still had to support books and objects securely. To make that happen, we developed a hidden steel support system inside the brass columns and the shelf edges. Ensuring precision during production was key so that everything aligned perfectly without visible hardware. It took some trial and error, but in the end, we were able to achieve a balance between visual lightness and reliable structure.

The asymmetrical chamfering on the shelves adds a layer of movement to the piece. It’s subtle, but it changes the way light plays across the surface and gives the bookcase a dynamic quality from different angles. The idea came from architectural details I observed in Paris, especially how angled lines can soften rigid forms and create interesting shadows. This approach helped us give the bookcase a more sculptural feel, while still keeping it functional and elegant.

From the beginning, we knew we wanted to blend advanced technology with handcrafted details. CNC cutting gave us the precision needed for clean shelf edges and tight brass fittings, while the final assembly and finishing were done by hand to bring warmth and character. We tried to let each method do what it does best. Machines provided consistency, and the craftspeople gave the bookcase its unique feel. This balance between the two was key to achieving the refined, high-quality finish we were after.

For us, luxury isn’t just about materials. It’s also about how a piece functions in real life. With the Focal Bookcase, we wanted to create something that feels refined and special, but also truly useful. That meant paying attention to things like shelf spacing, closed storage, and material durability. At the same time, we worked hard on the proportions and detailing to make sure the design felt elevated. It’s this balance, practical and poetic, that reflects what QZENS stands for.

Choosing the right materials was an important part of creating the overall mood of the piece. We selected a rich, patinated oak veneer for its natural texture and timeless look. It feels familiar and warm, which balances nicely with the cool elegance of the satin-brass finishes. We didn’t want anything to feel too glossy or too flat. The aim was to create a quiet luxury, something that doesn’t shout for attention but rewards you the more time you spend with it.

The closed compartment at the bottom provides a strong base, both visually and functionally. It anchors the piece and offers hidden storage for things that don’t need to be on display. In contrast, the open shelves above allow for more expression such as books, objects, or personal collections. We liked this layered approach, where the bookcase works on multiple levels and adapts to different needs. It also creates a nice architectural rhythm, echoing classical building principles in a subtle way.

We arrived at these dimensions through a combination of design intent and real-world usability. We wanted the piece to feel substantial enough to hold its own in a space, without being overwhelming. The height provides plenty of vertical storage, while the width and depth are optimized for comfort and accessibility. These measurements also make it versatile for different interiors.

One interesting moment during the process was when we saw how the brass columns interacted with ambient light. In early prototypes, the reflections were more intense than expected, so we adjusted the finish and spacing to soften the effect. Another discovery came from how people interacted with the shelf heights. Many wanted to store not just books, but larger items like art books or decorative pieces. These small, real-life insights helped us refine the design into something more responsive and well-rounded.

The Focal Bookcase feels like a natural step forward in our journey at QZENS. It reflects our ongoing interest in blending classical references with modern living needs. I think pieces like this show that luxury can come from thoughtful details, material honesty, and emotional connection. I hope this design encourages others to explore the richness of architectural history and find new ways to bring it into contemporary furniture. For us, it’s about creating designs that feel rooted, yet forward-looking.

My visit to Paris in 2023 served as a catalyst for reinterpreting historical ornamentation through a contemporary lens. Walking through Versailles and the interiors of Haussmannian apartments, I was captivated by the rhythm of Baroque repetition and the sensuality of Rococo curves. These inspirations informed the sweeping lines and ornamental logic of the Focal Table’s leg structure. However, to maintain modern minimalism, I translated these elements into clean geometries and structural clarity. The result is a piece that honors the past not by imitation, but by abstracting its emotional richness into a minimal yet expressive form.

The cantilevered stance of the legs created significant structural challenges, particularly in managing load distribution and lateral torque. To counteract this, we developed a concealed steel framework embedded within the tabletop and extending into the upper leg sections. This frame acts like a skeleton, redistributing the forces and anchoring the entire structure. Each leg was carefully angled to achieve both aesthetic dynamism and ergonomic clearance for seating. The challenge was not just the strength, it was to make the table appear effortless and light, despite its underlying complexity.

Focal Table embodies the dialogue between human touch and machine precision. The brass accents are a nod to classical furniture detailing, offering warmth and material memory. Meanwhile, the surface planes and joints are defined with CNC-milled accuracy, ensuring tight tolerances and sharp clarity. This interplay was intentional. Where technology ensures consistency, craftsmanship brings character. We worked with artisans to hand-finish the brass and wood interfaces, softening their transition points and preserving a tactile presence that modern tools alone can’t replicate. The balance lies in respecting both methodologies equally.

Our main goal was to create a table that visually floats yet performs like a robust structural object. To do this, we integrated a laser-cut steel armature inside the tabletop that extends discreetly into the legs. This internal framework is completely hidden, allowing the wood elements to retain their visual lightness. Special joinery was developed to interface steel and wood without compromising surface integrity. The final result is strength without bulk, elegance supported by engineering.

We selected premium-grade, book-matched oak veneer for its depth, uniform grain, and tonal richness. Each sheet was hand-sorted and laid out in mirrored patterns across the table surface to create visual continuity. The panels were then press-laminated onto engineered wood cores for dimensional stability. After CNC trimming, the surfaces were hand-sanded and oiled in successive layers to enhance the grain and protect against wear. Achieving this refined look required both technical planning and sensitivity to the organic nature of wood, recognizing that even the smallest inconsistency could disrupt the harmony of the whole.

I’ve always been intrigued by how familiar objects can be reimagined through new proportions and gestures. With Focal, I wanted to challenge the static, heavy perception of dining tables by creating something sculptural yet usable. The legs, which radiate outward like architectural buttresses, redefine the visual hierarchy, placing emphasis on the periphery rather than the center. Yet despite the expressive form, every element was engineered for functionality: generous legroom, balanced weight distribution, and a spacious top. It’s a piece that pushes boundaries without forgetting its purpose.

The brass-capped legs serve as punctuation marks, deliberate interruptions in the flow of the structure. They were inspired by classical column bases and the ornamental logic of Rococo interiors, where transitions are always celebrated rather than hidden. From a narrative standpoint, they mark the transition between ground and form, adding a note of refinement where the table touches the floor. The warm metallic contrast also brings visual weight to the bottom of the piece, anchoring its otherwise elevated silhouette. It’s both a material and symbolic gesture.

Winning the Bronze A’ Design Award validated our approach to merging historical inspiration with forward-thinking construction. It encourages me to continue designing furniture that doesn’t merely occupy space, but also tells a story. Going forward, I’m more motivated to explore hybrid typologies: pieces that serve multiple emotional and physical functions. The award also reaffirms the value of slow design: carefully developed concepts that mature through research, iteration, and collaboration. It sets a high standard that I now hold myself to more consciously in future work.

Paris offered a living museum of contrast: heavy facades with delicate ornamentation, monumental forms with human-scale details. The curvature of wrought iron balconies, the rhythm of façade pilasters, and the theatrical composition of French salons… All of these subtly informed Focal’s language. I began sketching the leg structure after studying the scrollwork of a Rococo mirror in the Louvre. The challenge was distilling this ornamental energy into clean geometries. The influence of Paris was not in direct replication but in emotional translation, bringing classical poise into a new form.

Focal Table encapsulates the character of QZENS, a commitment to timeless artistry, cultural relevance and precise execution. From our beginnings in small-scale handcrafted projects to now producing award-winning and globally recognized pieces, Focal represents a new chapter. It reflects how we have grown not by abandoning our roots but by refining them through innovation. The piece is the result of deep collaboration between design, engineering and craftsmanship, values we have upheld since day one. It signals our confidence in shaping the future of luxury furniture where emotion, technology and history converge in objects of lasting beauty.

The sliding door system of the Tachi Sideboard required a highly engineered internal track and support frame to enable a completely flush, silent glide. Unlike typical sliding doors, ours had to maintain the integrity of the geometric facade. We developed a recessed rail system integrated directly into the carcass, reinforced with hidden aluminum channels for durability. This concealed infrastructure supports the door weight evenly, preventing torsion while preserving the clean, sculptural silhouette. It was essential to achieve effortless movement without disrupting the visual harmony of the piece.

The name "Tachi" itself is drawn from a traditional Japanese long sword, known for its precision and ceremonial significance. I was captivated by the idea of transforming a martial object into a meditative surface. The intersecting cuts mimic the cutting traces of traditional tachi swords, while their rhythm suggests controlled movement and latent energy. By translating this symbolism into a functional sideboard, I aimed to explore how ancient strength and discipline can inform contemporary design with both beauty and restraint.

To preserve the sharp geometry without compromising structural stability, we conducted extensive trials using different CNC tooling speeds and bit types. Each panel was cut from MDF to prevent chipping and maintain edge clarity. We then applied multiple layers of primer and sanding before final lacquering, allowing the geometry to remain crisp. Functional durability was ensured through internal ribbing behind the front panel, preventing warping while maintaining a minimal profile. Our production team in Ankara played a vital role in achieving consistency across every unit.

The brass-coated legs contrast with the sideboard's mass, elevating the piece both literally and visually. The inclined metal legs also follow the cutting lines, completing the integrity of the overall form. The brass coating was applied electrostatically to ensure that the warm tone is preserved over time. The result is a slender, elegant base that provides full support, reflecting the balance of delicacy and strength inherent in samurai tradition.

While the exterior of the Tachi Sideboard communicates bold artistry, the interior had to serve the daily needs of the user with clarity and efficiency. We treated the body of the cabinet as a double envelope: the inner structure follows a modular logic, offering generous and customizable storage options, while the outer layer, sculpted like armor, delivers the expressive impact. The clean interior layout features soft-close systems and adjustable shelving to adapt to varied usage scenarios. This contrast between calm utility inside and sculptural drama outside reflects the dual nature of the samurai spirit, restraint paired with power.

The entire development of Tachi was about walking a fine line between reverence and reinterpretation. We immersed ourselves in the formal language of Japanese swordsmithing, precision, balance, and ritual, and translated that ethos into geometry and material. At the same time, we employed cutting-edge production techniques and contemporary finishes to root the piece in the present. The result is not a reproduction of tradition, but a respectful evolution of it, imbued with cultural memory and modern intent.

The surface was conceived as a dynamic topography, designed to interact constantly with light and movement. We experimented with the geometry in a digital environment first, running simulations with directional lighting to study how shadows would behave at different times of day. The lines aren’t random; their position and depth are choreographed to echo the tension and release found in sword strokes. The result is a facade that invites exploration and rewards close observation.

The collaboration was iterative and deeply integrated. After the initial concept sketches, we worked closely with our production team in Ankara to test the feasibility of the facade geometry. They provided valuable feedback on material behavior, lacquering challenges, and cutting precision. In return, we adjusted some angles and layering to improve manufacturability without sacrificing design intent. This mutual respect between design and making elevated the project, each decision was informed by both aesthetic goals and technical knowledge.

Tachi speaks to a growing desire for meaning-driven design in the luxury sector. I believe the future lies in pieces that not only function but narrate, objects that hold cultural depth while serving contemporary needs. Tachi demonstrates how ancient symbolism can inform new typologies without becoming nostalgic or decorative.

Achieving the perfect lacquer finish on Tachi's faceted surface was a true test of craftsmanship. Each CNC-milled panel underwent a labour-intensive, multi-stage finishing process. First, multiple coats of high-build primer were applied, each followed by meticulous hand-sanding to preserve the edge definition of the cuts. Then, we applied layers of tinted lacquer using a fine spray, ensuring even coverage without any pooling in the valleys of the relief. The greatest challenge was to maintain consistency across the planes and ensure that the light reflected evenly despite the panel’s sculptural complexity. The end result is a deep, luminous surface that transforms the geometry into an experience of light, tactility and depth.

The Ancient Roman Hippodrome in Istanbul served as a key inspiration due to its massive elliptical form, rhythmic colonnades, and axial symmetry. I was fascinated by how the Hippodrome unified grandeur with geometric precision. In the Orb Sideboard, the sweeping arc of the circular side doors echoes the racing tracks, while the linear rhythm of the cabinet front mirrors the colonnade alignments. The entire piece is arranged along a strong central axis, recalling the Hippodrome’s architectural order. This helped me translate a monumental historical form into an object of refined domestic scale.

The circular doors were conceptually inspired by ancient rotundas and Byzantine domes—symbols of divine symmetry. To preserve the purity of the circle while ensuring functionality, we designed a custom hinge mechanism that allows the doors to rotate open without visible hardware. It was technically demanding: the doors required precise weight distribution, tolerance calibration, and magnetic stabilization. Collaborating closely with our engineering team in Ankara, we prototyped and iterated the mechanism multiple times to achieve a motion that feels effortless and visually uninterrupted.

The Bosphorus Deep blue tone was chosen to evoke the mysterious depth and richness of the strait that divides and unites East and West. This hue carries a symbolic weight—it references Ottoman tiles, Byzantine mosaics, and the maritime importance of the Bosphorus throughout history. By embedding this tone in the interior, we create a hidden layer of storytelling. The color acts as a metaphor for cultural convergence and timeless beauty—an interior world that pays tribute to Istanbul’s dual heritage, often unseen but profoundly present.

The front facade of the Orb Sideboard is inspired by Art Deco geometry. We used CNC milling to define the macro geometry but relied on skilled artisans to refine each edge, sand the surface by hand, and apply lacquer layer by layer. This combination ensures that the machine’s precision is softened and enriched by the human touch—balancing modern technique with traditional craftsmanship in a way that reflects the spirit of the design.

The dimensions were calculated to evoke architectural scale while remaining proportionate to residential interiors. The width of 222 cm allows for a tripartite division—central doors flanked by circular side units—enhancing the symmetrical aesthetic. The height of 74 cm aligns with ergonomic access and typical sideboard usage, while the 50 cm depth provides ample storage without overwhelming the space. These proportions were carefully studied through 1:1 mockups, ensuring that the Orb Sideboard feels substantial yet approachable, monumental yet intimate.

Lacquered wood offers a mirror-like surface reminiscent of imperial opulence, while brushed gold detailing echoes Byzantine mosaics and Art Deco metalwork. These materials were selected not just for their visual impact but for their cultural resonance. I wanted the sideboard to feel timeless, rooted in tradition yet unmistakably modern. The interplay between the glossy finish and matte gold accents creates depth, while also reflecting light in a theatrical way, enhancing the sculptural quality of the piece.

During our user research phase, we conducted interviews with homeowners and interior designers to understand how sideboards are used in real life. A recurring theme was the need for flexibility—many wanted to store tall bottles, tableware, or multimedia components. We responded by designing shelving systems with different heights.

To translate the Hippodrome’s monumental scale into furniture, I focused on visual rhythm and axial harmony rather than literal size. The curved forms and repeated vertical grooves suggest continuity and expansion, much like the Hippodrome’s colonnades. The symmetrical layout and grand proportions pay homage to the architecture’s grandeur, but the material palette, refined detailing, and user-centric storage ensure the piece serves daily functions. This duality, monumental inspiration in a human-scale object, is at the heart of Orb’s design philosophy.

The Orb Sideboard demonstrates that luxury can be narrative-driven, not just material-based. I believe this approach will shape the future of high-end furniture: pieces that combine historical storytelling with functionality and emotional resonance. Clients today seek meaningful design, not just decoration. Orb speaks to that by offering a rich cultural language through form, color, and material. Its success encourages designers to look to the past for inspiration while embracing technological innovation and user-centered design.

Designing in Istanbul allowed me to immerse myself in the city’s layered history, drawing directly from its architecture and atmosphere. Manufacturing in Ankara gave us access to a skilled network of craftspeople and high-tech production facilities. This dual-city model fostered a balance between conceptual depth and technical precision. Istanbul fueled the artistic vision; Ankara ensured its execution met the highest standards. It also mirrors the story of the Bosphorus: bridging worlds, merging history with modernity, design with fabrication.