Profiling a wood panel of solid maple in the workshop.
s o u l p r o p r i e t o r
In early 1997, an increasing, ecological consciousness was nagging for a change in my high profile, southern California, design consultancy lifestyle. Eventually choosing to trust principles and passion over pay and position, I affably fired my boss and returned to Seattle, Washington to start my own, furniture and interior ware design and fabrication business. With the moniker of LUMA—inferring ‘light’ in both demeanor and in environmental impact—the intent was to embody my growing belief in the use of all natural materials and sustainably prudent methods of manufacture.
I put my previous employment lessons into practice and continued to gain even more pragmatic business knowledge, such as marketing, financing, product planning, material procurement, facilities and capital equipment, outsourcing, and distribution.
After procuring shop space in a well equipped, woodworking co op and stocking the essential hand tools, I began researching the modern, residential furniture scene and built prototypes of pieces I felt would fit in.
I invested in exhibition space to present LUMA at the 1998 International Contemporary Furniture Fair in New York, attained patents for some pieces, and published full color sales catalogs.
And at the local level, LUMA was on display in three, Seattle area showrooms, including an environmental home center, an eclectic, home furnishings retailer, and an architectural stone and tile supplier.
m e t h o d o l o g y
I initiated each project by pondering what the item needed to do, and then delved into what it could possibly be. Products are about people . . . what should a product know about you in order to serve you best? A dresser should know how to sort your garments by size. A side table should know you want a different decor from time to time. And a bed should know you need a dimmable light for nocturnal excursions or for an intimate atmosphere.
With the company tagline, For the Design of Friendly Things, the items were to have distinctly casual yet refined personalities, ample longevity, and a healthy respect for their complete, product life—and afterlife—cycles. They were derived from fresh inquiries into familiar experiences to be crafted with care and quality, surpassing the simple mimicry of similar product precedents.
The designs were to offer a warm allure to experience aliveness, interacting on a level deep within. Their forms aspired to portray a union of symmetry and levity to express the complementary, human elements of play and softness, confidence and dignity—elements appealing to those places in us that speak to spontaneity, relaxing in comfort, and having pride of purpose.
The durability of the pieces, in and of itself then, would postpone and conserve the energy and resources required to replace them. But when they finally did return to the earth, as all things do, they would make their transition with care. Components biodegrading with as much ease as possible, and also being recycled into new, detail parts.
Dry fit assembly of the Carmen dresser with wooden drawers and slides.
Desking concept for a technology integration office.
Along with specific LUMA products, there were periodic orders to envisage custom commissions for companies, private individuals, and architects too. Their particular functions, spaces for installation, and personal preferences were taken in and imaginatively melded into project specific, ergonomic and aesthetic solutions.
Concepts were refined via hand drawn sketches and occasional client meetings, engineered and documented in AutoCAD, and then brought to life as collaborations between my own efforts in the workshop and the support of regional vendors of wood, metal, glass, fabric, and stone.
They were manifest through age old, woodworking techniques and the high tech precision and efficiency of computer controlled metal shaping.
Durability and honesty of materials was maintained through the extensive use of solid wood and metal construction, and in choosing finishes that honored each surface’s innate, material character.
m o v i n g o n
While LUMA was progressing, I was pursuing personal interests too, curious to study other cultures and ways of looking at, and living, life anew. In one sense, it was an endeavor to redesign—myself.
And, as such, I knew from professional experience that personal experience is the best means to learn. So, in early 1999, since I wasn’t getting any younger, and LUMA’s rising success had proven the venture’s future viability, I chose to set it aside and travel abroad for some time.
A hand made, 15 x 15 cm, travel folio to share my vocation with those whom I met along the international travels after LUMA.
Exploration of a freestanding, room divider screen with integrated shelving, made of recycled, hex core cardboard.