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Carved from pale ash wood with a grain pattern running vertically through the structural elements, Nataliya Naymark's Nakovalnya Chair presents a sculptural meditation on balance, weight, and material
Rendered across four distinct viewing angles against minimalist studio backdrops of pale neutral tones and subtle horizontal striping, Nataliya Naymark's Nakovalnya Chair emerges as a rigorous formal
Crafted from pale timber with visible grain patterns suggesting ash or light oak, Nataliya Naymark's Nakovalnya Chair occupies a lofted concrete interior flooded with natural daylight, its sculptural
Solid blonde ash timber defines every orthogonal plane of Nakovalnya Chair by Nataliya Naymark, a sculptural furniture composition photographed within an industrial loft environment characterized by r
Nataliya Naymark's Nakovalnya Chair commands the visual field as a sculptural anchor positioned against an expansive floor-to-ceiling glazed aperture that dissolves boundaries between interior sanctua

NNaymark.design

Iron Furniture Design · 2026

Nakovalnya Chair

by Nataliya Naymark

  • A' Design Award 2026 Iron Winner in Furniture Design
  • Awarded April 15, 2026
  • CLIENT: NNaymark.design
  • Estimated Number of Design Views: 5,429
  • Verification code 3D3C601002 · Verify this award
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About Nakovalnya Chair

Nakovalnya is a monumental chair that pays homage to the industrial spirit of the imperial Russian forge. Inspired by the blacksmithing heritage of the designer ancestors, the piece translates the heavy, grounded form of the anvil into a contemporary wooden sculpture. Featuring a deep, precision milled concave seat and a brutalist silhouette, Nakovalnya serves as both a functional seat and a valet. It represents the essence of the beginning, a site of labor transformed into a domestic centerpiece through high end craftsmanship.

Nataliya Naymark's Nakovalnya Chair exemplifies contemporary furniture design's renewed engagement with traditional craft methodologies, material authenticity, and sculptural form-making that transcends purely functional imperatives to achieve aesthetic presence and conceptual resonance. Working within lineages established by midcentury Scandinavian designers who elevated everyday objects through formal refinement and Japanese artisans who understood joinery as philosophical practice, Naymark crafts a seating object that reads simultaneously as utilitarian furniture and contemplative sculpture, the dual nature emerging from the designer's sophisticated negotiation between ergonomic necessity and geometric exploration. The technical execution demonstrates considerable accomplishment in wood craft, the pale ash selected for its workability, structural integrity, and luminous grain character that animates planar surfaces through subtle linear patterning. The compositional schema achieves dynamic equilibrium through calculated asymmetry, the concave seat suspended between vertical supports that rise from extended horizontal base members, the entire lower assembly grounded and stable while the elevated T-shaped backrest introduces unexpected formal departure from conventional chair typology. This upper element, positioned well above the seat and reading as horizontal rather than vertical support, evokes the anvil form referenced in the chair's name, suggesting connections to industrial craft traditions, blacksmithing heritage, and the symbolic weight of making and transformation through applied force and material resistance. The chromatic restraint inherent in the natural wood finish allows formal relationships and volumetric interplay to command visual attention without chromatic distraction, the warm cream and bisque tones establishing gentle, approachable presence that invites contemplation rather than demanding immediate response. The curved seat profile demonstrates ergonomic consideration, the shallow concave scoop shaped to receive the human form while maintaining geometric clarity and resisting excessive organic naturalism, the curve reading as controlled mathematical arc rather than biomorphic gesture. The joint resolution throughout the piece appears seamless and precise, suggesting either sophisticated mortise-and-tenon joinery concealed within the assembly or contemporary adhesive lamination technology that allows volumetric forms to emerge from flat stock through careful cutting, shaping, and finishing processes. The extended base runners create visual and physical stability, their forward and rearward projection preventing tipping while establishing the chair's footprint as larger than the seat dimensions alone would suggest, a design decision that prioritizes user safety and structural integrity alongside formal expression. The work invites consideration of how contemporary designers might honor craft traditions while pursuing formal innovation, how material limitations can generate creative solutions rather than representing constraints, and how everyday functional objects can carry aesthetic and conceptual ambitions that elevate daily experience through thoughtful design intervention and maker's care invested in each fabrication detail.

Press Kit

Unique Properties
The Nakovalnya Chair explores ancestral heritage and the primordial act of creation. Inspired by the designer's great-great-grandfather, a blacksmith in Imperial Russia, the project embodies the grit and transformative power of the forge. The motive was to translate the "Anvil" - a site of intense labor and fire - into a domestic center piece. It serves as a tribute to the humble beginnings where raw materials are struck into beauty, positioning the chair as the essence of the home.
Dimensions & Packaging
700*640*680
Tags
Anvil Chair, Nakovalnya Design, Blacksmith Heritage, Russian Brutalism, Sculptural Seating, Solid Wood Furniture, Valet Chair, Ancestral Storytelling, Imperial Russia, Modernist Craft, Monumental Furniture, Functional Art, CNC Woodworking, Hand-finished Timber, Heritage Design.
Production Technology
The chair is realized through high-precision solid wood joinery, using oversized ash or oak to achieve its brutal mass. The primary structural challenge involved the deep concave seat, achieved through multi-axis cnc milling and hand-finishing to highlight the grain. The assembly uses mortise-and-tenon joints, reinforced to support the cantilevered backrest and hanging rail. The finish is a matte, low-voc oil that preserves the raw, tactile nature of the timber.
Design Challenge
The hardest part was balancing brutalism with human ergonomics. To honor the anvil, the chair needed to feel heavy and immovable while remaining a comfortable seat. Overcoming the internal factor of personal history, ensuring the tribute was respectful yet modern, required multiple iterations of the silhouette. Structural limits of wood when mimicking the weight of iron posed engineering challenges. Achieving the deep seat curve without compromising the grain was the main technical hurdle.
Project Duration
autumn 2025
Operation Flow
The chair functions as a heavy-duty sanctuary for both the body and belongings. Its deep, scooped seat provides a grounded sitting experience, while the high, sturdy backrest is designed to double as a valet for hanging heavy coats or everyday clothes. Interaction is simple and tactile: the oversized wooden frame encourages the user to feel the history of the forge. It performs better than standard seating by offering a dual-purpose "sculptural anchor" that organizes the space around it.
Research
This project is a work of Applied Conceptual Research aimed at bridging ancestral history with modern furniture typology. The objective was to distill the "spirit of the forge" into a functional domestic object. The methodology involved a deep dive into 19th-century blacksmithing tools and Russian peasant heritage, translating heavy iron geometries into wood. Data collection consisted of studying anvil proportions and ergonomic testing of concave surfaces. Through experiments with 1:1 scale prototypes, the research successfully balanced "brutalist" aesthetics with seating comfort. The insight gained is that furniture can act as a vessel for historical memory, impacting design by moving away from clinical minimalism toward soulful, narrative-driven objects that resonate with a society seeking deeper connections to their past.
Inspiration
Nakovalnya is a sculptural seating element prioritizing a brutalist aesthetic. Characterized by thick-set wooden members and a dramatic concave seat, the design mimics the grounded geometry of traditional iron-working tools. Its unique strength lies in its dual functionality: it serves as a robust seating vessel and a sculptural valet for garments. Unlike standard furniture, Nakovalnya acts as a physical manifesto of historical labor, bridging the gap between utilitarian craft and art.

Colors of Nakovalnya Chair

Design Interview about Nakovalnya Chair

The main principle behind the Nakovalnya Chair is the fusion of architectural brutalism with a highly focused, sculptural approach to everyday utility. The core idea was to re-examine a specific functional typology—the classic valet chair—and transform it from a traditional, often clinical furniture piece into a heavy, narrative-driven structural anchor that visually organizes the space around it.

The inspiration for this design came from two distinct, powerful sources that bridged academic history with my own DNA. The initial spark was ignited during a design history lecture by Artem Dezhurko, where a slide of Hans Wegner’s iconic 1953 PP250 Valet Chair completely captivated me with its dual-purpose anatomy designed perfectly for hanging clothes. I wanted to synthesize that practical valet function with the raw, monumental aesthetic of brutalist furniture we explored in subsequent lectures.

However, the deeper, soulful foundation of the project belongs to my family heritage. The name Nakovalnya itself translates to "anvil," serving as a direct tribute to my great-grandfather, who was a professional blacksmith. His world was one of absolute self-reliance, populated by universal masters who forged heavy, industrial tools out of necessity, yet possessed the incredible delicacy to weave elegant, lace-like baskets from marsh reeds or carve intricate wooden objects. The Nakovalnya Chair is an intentional translation of that ancestral resourcefulness—bridging the weight and strength of a blacksmith's forge with refined, purposeful lines to prove that true design is born from a profound connection to the material.

My main focus in designing the Nakovalnya Chair was to bridge the gap between a heavy, monumental artistic form and a highly practical everyday function. Rather than creating a piece of furniture that simply sits passively in a room, I wanted to achieve a design that acts as a structural anchor, utilizing a bold aesthetic to actively organize the architectural space around the simple, tactile act of hanging garments.

On a deeper level, I wanted to achieve an uncompromising balance between structural weight and delicate purposefulness—a direct reflection of the design philosophy inherited from my ancestors. My goal was to channel the spirit of the universal masters in my family history, who could forge massive, heavy tools on an anvil but also weave incredibly delicate, lace-like baskets from marsh reeds. I wanted to prove that a brutalist, industrial form could possess that exact same dual nature: standing as a powerful, heavy sculptural object while executing its functional utility with absolute grace and precision.

My immediate goal for the Nakovalnya Chair is to transition it from an award-winning concept into a physical reality, and I am currently in discussions with skilled craftsmen who have reached out wanting to help me fabricate it. Because the design requires a deep understanding of structural weight and material execution, partnering with these specialists is the ideal path to honor the blacksmithing legacy behind the piece.

However, my plans are currently met with a layer of personal uncertainty. As someone who does not yet have a permanent home of my own, it is difficult to fully commit to a definitive production and distribution strategy right now. Because this chair functions as a heavy, permanent structural anchor for an interior, its physical presence is deeply tied to the concept of space and home. For now, my plan is to focus entirely on the prototyping phase with these craftsmen to perfect the physical form, while remaining open to licensing or production partnerships that match the stability and scale the design deserves.

The active realization of this project took five years, a deliberate and extended timeline that was essential to ensuring the final design was entirely and authentically a reflection of me. Because this chair carries such deep personal and academic significance, I refused to rush the process or settle for a superficial aesthetic.

The main point of dedicating those five years was to step back from passing trends, strip away external design noise, and look inward to find my own voice as an independent creator. It took time to fully process the design history that inspired me, experiment with the raw proportions of architectural brutalism, and connect those concepts to the blacksmithing heritage of my ancestors. Spending half a decade on a single concept allowed me to meticulously refine every line and curve until I knew, with absolute certainty, that the piece perfectly embodied my identity, my history, and my design philosophy.

This design was not commissioned; it was an intensely independent pursuit of an inspiration that bridged an academic spark with my own family DNA. The project was born out of a profound desire to re-examine a specific functional typology—the classic valet chair—and push it through a creative filter that felt entirely personal. When I first encountered Hans Wegner’s iconic 1953 valet chair during a design history lecture by Artem Dezhurko, I became obsessed with how a piece of furniture could sculpturally accommodate the simple, everyday act of hanging clothes. I felt a strong artistic urge to take that clever, utilitarian anatomy and completely recontextualize it through the raw, heavy forms of architectural brutalism.

On a much deeper level, I pursued this concept because I wanted to create a physical manifestation of my family heritage. The project became a deeply personal necessity to honor my great-grandfather, who was a professional blacksmith, and the legacy of the universal masters in my lineage. I chose to design the Nakovalnya Chair because I wanted to see if I could channel their philosophy of creating beautiful, soulful objects out of absolute utility and self-reliance, translating the industrial weight of a blacksmith’s forge into a refined, modern architectural anchor for an interior.

At the moment, the design is not being produced or used by another company. As an independent designer, I have developed this project entirely on my own. Looking ahead, my plans are evolving through a mix of exciting professional opportunities and realistic personal considerations.

I am currently in discussions with some highly skilled craftsmanship specialists who want to help me bring the chair to life, so my immediate focus is on working with them to realize the physical prototype. However, because I do not currently have a permanent home of my own, establishing a full-scale, independent production setup is not a practical step for me right now. Because of this, my ultimate intention is to find a strategic partnership. I am highly interested in leasing or selling the production rights to an established manufacturing company that has the specialized industrial capacity to properly scale the heavy, complex structural components of the chair, while I continue to oversee its creative direction and material integrity.

I chose to design a valet chair because I wanted to confront a highly specific, utilitarian furniture typology and push it to its absolute limits. A valet chair is inherently intimate; it interacts directly with the human routine and the clothes we wear, yet it is a form that is frequently overlooked or treated with clinical minimalism. I was drawn to the challenge of taking that practical, everyday necessity and entirely transforming its visual and structural presence within an interior.

What truly drove me to this specific type of work was the desire to explore the duality between physical weight and domestic utility. Influenced by architectural brutalism, I wanted to see if a heavy, monumental object could gracefully organize a space around the simple, tactile act of hanging garments. It allowed me to merge a profound academic fascination with a deeply personal family narrative. Designing a piece that mimics the industrial strength of an anvil gave me the perfect framework to channel my ancestral roots in blacksmithing, proving that a bold, structural anchor can beautifully coexist with the delicate needs of a modern living space.

Yes, the architectural and structural narrative of this work was shaped by two very distinct design influences. The primary catalyst for the chair's unique typology was the iconic PP250 Valet Chair designed in 1953 by Danish master Hans Wegner. Seeing its clever, dual-purpose anatomy during a design history lecture completely captivated me and made me want to explore how a piece of furniture could sculpturally accommodate the simple act of hanging clothes.

The second major influence came from the broader movement of architectural brutalism and modernist design, which we explored deeply in subsequent lectures. I wanted to take the functional concept of the valet chair and push it through a much heavier, monumental aesthetic. Rather than following traditional minimalism, I looked to the raw, expressive power of brutalist structures to turn the piece into a bold, sculptural anchor that commands and organizes the space around it.

The target customer for the Nakovalnya Chair sits at the precise intersection of high-end interior architecture and collectible, narrative-driven design. Because the piece functions as a bold, heavy structural anchor rather than a piece of disposable furniture, it is tailored specifically for clients who view interior spaces through a highly curated, artistic lens.

This includes interior architects and designers sourcing unique, statement-making, contract-grade pieces for upscale residential projects, executive offices, or boutique hospitality spaces where furniture is expected to actively organize and define the architectural layout. Additionally, the design appeals to design collectors and connoisseurs who appreciate functional art, architectural brutalism, and pieces with a profound, authentic backstory. Ultimately, it is for the discerning individual looking for a deeply personal, expressive object for a private dressing room, bedroom, or entryway—someone who values the tactile, daily ritual of interacting with an object that bridges the monumental weight of heritage with refined utility.

What sets the Nakovalnya Chair apart from other valet chairs or brutalist concepts is its unique ability to balance monumental, industrial weight with delicate, everyday functionality. While historical reference points like Hans Wegner’s valet chair approach the typology through lightweight, mid-century wood craftsmanship, and modern alternatives often favor clinical minimalism, Nakovalnya completely recontextualizes the form. It transforms what is traditionally a secondary, lightweight bedroom accessory into a heavy, narrative-driven structural anchor that commands an architectural space and organizes the room around the simple act of hanging garments.

Furthermore, the design is distinguished by the deep authenticity of its form, which avoids the superficiality of typical trend-driven brutalism. Rather than mimicking a heavy aesthetic purely for visual impact, the chair's massive, purposeful proportions are directly rooted in a genuine family heritage of raw craftsmanship. It embodies the specific philosophy of ancestral "universal masters" who could forge heavy tools on an anvil—the literal translation of Nakovalnya—while possessing the incredible delicacy required to weave intricate baskets from marsh reeds. This profound duality is engineered directly into the chair, allowing a bold, industrial shape to interact with fine textiles and clothing with absolute grace, separating it from purely sculptural objects that lack real-world utility.

The name Nakovalnya is a direct, intentional reflection of my family history and the structural soul of the object, translating from Russian to mean "anvil". I came up with the name because the chair's heavy, brutalist silhouette and its role as a solid structural anchor in an interior naturally mirror the physical weight and presence of a traditional blacksmith's anvil.

On a deeper level, the name serves as a proud tribute to my heritage and my great-grandfather, who was a professional blacksmith. Choosing this name was a way to ground a modern industrial design in the raw craftsmanship and absolute self-reliance of my ancestors. It symbolizes the core philosophy of the project: bridging the industrial weight and monumental strength of a blacksmith’s forge with the refined, purposeful lines of contemporary collectible furniture.

The development of the Nakovalnya Chair was driven by a focused and streamlined creative process, transitioning from raw ideas into hyper-precise technical execution.

The process began entirely with manual hand-sketching to capture the initial, brutalist silhouette and explore the proportions of the piece. To bring the concept into a digital space, I used Rhino3D. I chose this specific 3D modeling program because I felt that the bold, geometric nature of the Nakovalnya Chair provided the perfect, substantial form to truly test my skills and push the boundaries of the software.

Finally, the most critical phase involved moving into rigorous technical drawing. This is where I meticulously calculated every single dimension with super precision, remaking the drafts several times over to perfect the structural integrity. This absolute precision was essential to ensure that the heavy, monumental volumes of the chair would align flawlessly in physical reality and function perfectly as a stable valet structure.

The most unique aspect of the Nakovalnya Chair is its intentional duality—the striking contrast between its monumental, industrial weight and its delicate, everyday functionality. It takes architectural brutalism, a movement known for heavy and imposing structures, and applies it to a deeply intimate, utilitarian object designed to hold and organize delicate clothing. Instead of treating a valet chair as a lightweight, secondary accessory, this design transforms it into a powerful structural anchor that completely commands and defines the interior space around it.

This duality is not just an aesthetic choice; it is directly rooted in the authentic philosophy of my family heritage. The design honors ancestral master craftsmen who possessed the raw power to forge heavy tools on an anvil—the literal meaning of Nakovalnya—yet held the immense precision and delicacy required to weave intricate chakan baskets from marsh reeds. Embracing this heritage is what allowed me to spend five years refining the concept, ensuring that the final piece is not a superficial, trend-following object, but a deeply personal manifestation of structural strength executing a gentle household ritual with absolute grace.

I did not collaborate with any other designers on this project; the entire concept, 3D modeling, and hyper-precise technical drawings were developed completely by me as an independent designer. Spending five years on this single chair was a deeply solitary journey aimed at stripping away external design noise to ensure the final form was entirely a reflection of my own voice and design philosophy.

However, looking ahead to the physical production of the chair, I am actively moving into a phase of technical collaboration. Because the Nakovalnya Chair features heavy, monumental volumes that require mastery over industrial materials, I am currently in discussions with highly skilled craftsmanship specialists. I am working closely with these technical experts to properly execute the prototype, relying on their specialized skills to manipulate and realize the complex, heavy structural components while I maintain strict creative control over the material integrity.

Technology played a vital role in this design by acting as the precise bridge between a raw, artistic vision and structural reality. While the concept itself is deeply rooted in manual hand-sketching and a heritage of traditional craftsmanship, digital tools were essential to translate those fluid, monumental ideas into an object capable of being manufactured.

Specifically, Rhino3D served as a primary technological testing ground. I intentionally used this advanced 3D modeling software because the bold, geometric, and heavy volumes of the Nakovalnya Chair provided the perfect complex form to push the boundaries of the digital program. Technology allowed me to freely manipulate these substantial masses in a virtual space, testing how the brutalist silhouette would interact with light, shadow, and scale.

Furthermore, digital precision was the backbone of the technical drawing phase. Moving the design into a digital drafting environment allowed me to perform rigorous calculations and remake the technical specifications several times with super precision. This high level of technological accuracy was absolutely critical; it ensured that the massive, heavy proportions of the chair are engineered perfectly, balancing structural stability with the delicate, functional requirements of a valet chair.

The research behind the Nakovalnya Chair was not driven by quantitative data or market statistics, but rather by deep qualitative, academic, and technical exploration. The project relied on a rigorous three-tier research process that spanned historical typologies, ancestral documentation, and intensive structural engineering.

The foundation of the project began with academic research in design history, specifically sparked during a lecture on furniture typologies. I conducted an analytical review of the classic valet chair, studying how master designers like Hans Wegner structurally solved the intimate, daily ritual of organizing garments. This historical analysis was paired with an architectural study of brutalism and modernist forms, examining how heavy, raw, and monumental masses can define and organize an interior space.

Alongside academic research, I conducted deeply personal genealogical and historical research into my family’s heritage of craftsmanship. I studied the specific work of my ancestors—particularly my great-grandfather, a professional blacksmith—analyzing how these "universal masters" balanced the raw power needed to forge heavy industrial tools with the immense delicacy required to weave intricate baskets from marsh reeds. This historical documentation provided the conceptual framework for the entire chair.

Finally, the most rigorous phase involved structural and geometric research. Over a five-year development period, I conducted hands-on technical research using 3D modeling and precise drafting to calculate weights, proportions, and balances. Because the design features massive, heavy volumes, I remade the technical drawings multiple times with super precision to analytically test how the monumental, industrial shape would safely and gracefully interact with delicate clothing in physical reality.

The realization of the Nakovalnya Chair brought forward several deep creative, technical, and personal challenges that required a deliberate five-year process to overcome.

On a creative level, the greatest challenge was finding my own authentic voice and separating it from passing trends. It took a long time to strip away external design noise and figure out how to elegantly marry two seemingly contradictory concepts: the heavy, monumental mass of architectural brutalism and the gentle, utilitarian ritual of a valet chair.

Technically, achieving absolute precision was an grueling process. Because the design features massive, substantial volumes, the technical drawing phase demanded rigorous structural calculations to ensure the proportions balanced perfectly. I had to remake the technical drafts several times with super precision to make sure this heavy, industrial shape would function with total stability and grace in a real living space.

Finally, the project faces a layer of ongoing personal and practical uncertainty. Because I do not currently have a permanent home of my own, the physical prototyping of the chair is temporarily paused. The Nakovalnya Chair is inherently designed to be a permanent, heavy structural anchor for an interior, making its physical reality deeply tied to the concept of having a permanent space. As an independent designer without a massive setup, I cannot easily produce this full-scale on my own, which is why my current challenge is finding the right technical partners and manufacturing specialists to license and execute the physical production.

The decision to submit the Nakovalnya Chair to an international design competition came from a desire to validate a deeply personal, five-year creative journey on a global stage. Because this project was entirely self-initiated and uncommissioned, it was developed in a focused, solitary environment away from commercial pressures or passing trends. After spending half a decade meticulously refining the hand sketches, pushing the boundaries of Rhino3D, and remaking the technical drawings multiple times with super precision, I knew the concept had reached its absolute maturity.

I felt that an international design platform was the ideal arena to test the validity of my unique design philosophy—specifically, the unconventional pairing of heavy, monumental brutalism with a highly practical valet function. Winning an award for a piece so deeply tied to my personal family heritage would not only provide professional validation for my independent voice, but it would also serve as a powerful launching pad. By gaining international recognition, the design could attract the right manufacturing partners and specialized craftsmanship experts needed to overcome my current production challenges and finally transition this heavy structural anchor from a digital prototype into a physical reality.

Designing the Nakovalnya Chair was a transformative experience that profoundly shaped my technical capabilities and my identity as an independent designer. Spending a deliberate five years on a single concept taught me the immense value of creative patience, allowing me to strip away external market trends and discover my own authentic design voice.

On a technical level, I significantly upgraded my digital and analytical skills. Using the bold, geometric masses of the chair as a deliberate testing ground, I pushed my boundaries within Rhino3D to master how complex, substantial volumes interact in a digital landscape. Furthermore, the rigorous demands of the technical drawing phase forced me to elevate my approach to precision. Remaking the drafts multiple times with super precision taught me how to mathematically calculate weight, balance, and proportions, ensuring that a heavy, brutalist structure would perform its everyday utilitarian function with absolute stability and grace.

Ultimately, I learned how to weave deeply personal storytelling into an industrial object. By grounding the project in my family heritage and the philosophy of ancestral craftsmanship, I grew from a designer who simply creates functional furniture into one who can manifest a rich, historical narrative into a powerful structural anchor for an interior space.

This option keeps the spotlight strictly on the chair itself, emphasizing how you re-engineered a forgotten furniture category.

What I would most like to emphasize is the reinvention of the "valet" typology itself. In contemporary design, the valet chair is often treated as a historical relic or a lightweight, delicate accessory tucked away in a corner. With Nakovalnya, I wanted to completely subvert that expectation.

By merging it with brutalist, anvil-inspired proportions, the chair ceases to be a passive rack for clothes and becomes an active architectural participant in the room. It creates a striking visual contrast: the heavy, immovable presence of the chair holding a delicate, fluid fabric. It proves that utilitarian furniture doesn’t have to look temporary or fragile—it can possess the monumental weight of a sculpture while executing a quiet, daily ritual with absolute precision.

Grand Interview about Nakovalnya Chair

The moment of realization happened when I stopped trying to design a conventional chair and started looking for a structural anchor that could hold the raw weight of my family's history. My ancestors, the Kursk peasants, were universal masters who built, forged, and crafted everything they needed out of absolute necessity. In that world of self-reliance, the blacksmith's anvil wasn't a decorative symbol; it was the heavy, grounded heart of all creation.When I looked at the silhouette of an anvil, I saw a beautiful, purposeful geometric paradox. It has a massive, uncompromising base designed to absorb heavy impact, yet it tapers into precise, functional lines. I realized this exact geometry was perfect for re-examining the valet chair typology. By translating those heavy, brutalist proportions into solid timber, the backrest could naturally serve its immediate physical utility—hanging garments.As a designer, nothing compares to the simple joy of seeing your work become a real-life object. After spending so much time looking at drawings and living with a concept in your head, finally seeing it exist in the real world is the most rewarding part of the job. It brings the entire process to life.

I believe that all truly good products always have a story behind them. Storytelling isn't just a marketing layer or a temporary trend; it is a fundamental part of all the things we design and sell. The Nakovalnya chair doesn't try to invent something new in that regard—it simply makes its specific narrative entirely visible and central to its form.The shift we are seeing in the furniture industry isn't about moving from "no story" to "having a story." It is about a growing appreciation for authentic, deeply personal histories over mass-market, generic ones. When a product openly shares its origin—like the way Nakovalnya bridges a design history lecture with the raw, purposeful resourcefulness of my ancestors—it changes how a consumer relates to it.Instead of buying a clinical, anonymous object, the consumer chooses to live with a piece that has an active voice. For designers, prioritizing storytelling means having the discipline to ensure that the functional, physical form and the narrative framework are entirely interdependent. When an object is born from a genuine history and a true connection to materials, it naturally becomes something people want to keep and live with for a very long time.

Using a multi-axis CNC machine isn’t about escaping hard work; it is simply a modern tool that requires its own high level of technical discipline. In reality, mixing new machinery with traditional methods is a pragmatic necessity. New technologies are essential—without them, we simply cannot move forward, and utilizing them can often make products more accessible and efficient to produce. Sometimes this approach leads to sustainability, and sometimes it doesn't, but a designer must balance all of these factors realistically.At the same time, we have to mix these modern technologies with older traditions so we do not lose craftsmanship entirely. The CNC machine allows you to achieve the precise, heavy, brutalist geometry and the exact depth needed for the seat. But wood is a living, unpredictable material. The machine does the heavy clearing, but it takes an actual human hand to understand the grain, finish the surface, and bring the material to life.For a designer, this is a completely neutral, balanced agenda. Everything is equally important. It connects back to the resourceful philosophy of my ancestors, who used whatever tools were available to them to transform raw materials into purposeful objects. Whether you are using a digital router or manual tools, the goal is not to favor one era over another, but to combine precision and craftsmanship to create an honest, functional product.

I believe the jury resonated with the fact that the chair offers a clear, practical solution without hiding behind decorative elements. The convergence of function, narrative, and material honesty works because each element supports the other. The heavy, brutalist form isn't just an aesthetic choice; it provides the physical stability needed for a functional valet backrest. It proves that an object can carry a deeply personal family history while still meeting strict, professional industrial standards for production and usability.Winning an international prize like the A' Design Award is an important validation for my practice. When you work entirely as a solo creator, managing everything from historical research to technical drafting, it can be easy to wonder if your specific perspective will connect with a broader audience. This recognition proves that narrative-driven, honest design has a clear place in the modern market.For the future direction of my practice, this award doesn't change my core methodology; it simply gives me the confidence to keep going down this path. It reinforces my belief that a designer must balance everything—integrating modern technology, respecting traditional craftsmanship, and keeping storytelling at the center of the objects we sell. Moving forward, I will continue focusing on creating purposeful, distinct furniture that carries an active voice into contemporary spaces.

Reconciling a heavy, brutalist form with physical comfort is a matter of precise engineering, and that is exactly why modern technology like a CNC machine is necessary. You cannot make a truly comfortable, functional sitting area without accurately calculating ergonomics. A machine allows you to execute those exact mathematical curves and seat depths perfectly every single time, ensuring the chair actually respects human proportions.The heavy mass of the anvil-inspired silhouette provides the stable, immovable visual anchor, while the digital precision handles the physical reality of sitting. You do not have to sacrifice ergonomic function to achieve a bold, sculptural presence; you just have to use the right tools to calculate the interface between the body and the material.Working through this process simply reinforced the fact that all parameters must be balanced equally. For a designer, technology isn't a shortcut—it is the very thing that allows a piece of furniture to hold a dual identity, acting as a powerful architectural statement while remaining a completely practical, comfortable object for everyday life.

The translation from historical research to the final form clicked when I stopped looking at the anvil as just a piece of metal and started analyzing its underlying structural logic. My research wasn't about trying to make a literal wooden replica of a blacksmith's tool; it was about understanding how those historical objects handled weight and stress, and then translating that stability into the language of solid wood joinery.The specific moment that unlocked the design was studying the connection points of old, heavy-duty workshop equipment and the proportions of traditional anvils. An anvil has to absorb immense, repetitive forces, so its entire shape is defined by thickened mass at the center and clean, flared geometry at the base. I realized that if I treated the chair's main joints—specifically where the backrest meets the seat—with that same heavy, flared logic, I wouldn't need to add fragile, decorative supports.This discovery directly dictated the use of thick, exposed mortise-and-tenon joints. Instead of hiding the connections, the joinery became the primary structural and visual statement of the chair, mirroring the honest, raw utility of the forge. By marrying those historic proportions with clean, modern wood processing, the research naturally transformed into a contemporary architectural object where the construction itself is the design.

The process of creating the Nakovalnya chair gave me a very practical template for how to handle a narrative, but it does not mean every future project will follow the exact same path. There will always be stories behind the work I do, but I don't want to be a designer of just one trick. My work will always change because the things that feel important to talk about will be different every time.For example, while some pieces are directly about my personal heritage, my next projects—like a concept inspired by the Mogilevskiy carpet—explore entirely different visual histories and ideas. The connection isn't a straight line of personal ancestry; it is simply about following an authentic concept and executing it in a completely different manner.Looking at the industry over the next ten years, I think the most important shift will be toward this kind of honest, diverse storytelling. The future isn't about repeating the same formula or choosing between old traditions and new technology. It is about a balanced approach where everything is important to the designer: using modern tools efficiently, respecting the materials, and having the freedom to tell different stories through functional, real-life objects.

I think the one thing to emphasize is that despite the historical narrative and the awards, this isn't a museum piece or a decorative sculpture. It is a functional domestic object meant for everyday life.The story behind the chair gives it a personality, but its real value only happens when someone actually brings it into their home, sits on it, and throws their clothes over it. The design isn't truly complete when it wins a prize or gets featured in an interview—it is only complete when it becomes a practical, useful part of someone's normal, daily routine.

Choosing a matte, low-VOC oil finish wasn't a complex philosophical statement; it was just the most logical and practical starting point for the material. Wood is a living texture, and if you spend time engineering a comfortable seat, you want the person sitting in it to actually feel the warmth of the grain.But beyond that, I always like it when wood lives according to where it stands. I don’t believe a designer should dictate exactly how an object must look forever. If someone buys this chair and decides to cover it, coat it, or alter the finish so it perfectly fits their specific interior and their life, I am totally fine with that.For me, the ethics of material treatment aren't about keeping an object frozen like a museum piece. It’s about creating a product that always keeps its soul, while still having the flexibility to change and adapt to the home it lives in. A simple oil finish gives the wood an honest start, but the real life of the chair happens when the owner makes it completely their own.

Calibrating the size and mass of the chair came down to a very simple silhouette, which is exactly why it carries that brutalist aesthetic. The entire design process was a struggle to use ровно столько, сколько надо материала—exactly as much material as necessary, and absolutely nothing more.Because the silhouette is stripped of any useless decoration, the simplicity itself gives the chair enough "air" to live comfortably in an interior without crowding it. It looks heavy and monumental because of its solid lines, but because it is so clean and efficient, it doesn't overwhelm the room. It occupies its space honestly.Ultimately, what this teaches us is that you don't need to make furniture fragile or invisible to keep a room feeling open. In a market full of over-designed, disposable furniture, there is a real value in objects that have a solid, permanent presence. By finding the exact boundary of what the material requires to be functional, you create a powerful visual anchor that brings identity and emotional grounding to a home, while still leaving room for the space to breathe.

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