The Edge Paradox
Furniture designed to be felt, not just seen.
Minimalism has a flaw
nobody talks about.
For decades, the language of modern design has meant one thing at the edge: sharp. Tapered. Precise. The thinner the better.
We know — we were trained in it. We spent years in architecture sharpening every line.
Thin doesn't have
to mean hard.
An edge that looks sharp but feels soft. Not a compromise — not a clumsy radius bolted onto a minimalist form. A curve computed across two hundred iterations, finished by hand until your eye reads "thin" and your fingers discover something else entirely.
Run your hand along the edge. Feel the curve start changing long before you expect it. By the time you reach what should be a corner — only softness.
円 (en) — circle, harmony, wholeness.
和 (wa) — peace, softness, Japan.
Every piece flows without interruption.
Every surface invites your hand back.
Algorithm
Every curve begins as mathematics. Parametric scripts generate hundreds of variations — inspired by Apple's squircle, where curvature begins changing long before you notice.
Workshop
We searched Guangzhou factory by factory. Found a master craftsman, thirty years experience. Each piece CNC-roughed, then hand-finished over three to four days.
Finish
Three coats water-based matte paint. Grain visible beneath. Nothing glossy, nothing synthetic. The surface stays warm to the touch.
European Oak
Chosen for its grain. Every plank tells a different story.
Hinoki Coming
Japanese cypress. Manufactured in Japan. Prized for centuries in temple construction.
Reclaimed Merbau Coming
Sourced from Malaysia. History in every surface.
