Every slab that arrives at the studio has already been decided by something older than us. The veins were laid down under pressure, over millions of years, and the only real question we get to answer is where to cut.

That question takes longer than the cutting. A block of Cipollino can sit against the workshop wall for weeks while we walk past it, chalk lines on it, rub them off and draw them again. The saw is the fast part.

What changes during those weeks is not the stone but how we read it. A band of iron red that looked like a flaw on Monday turns out, by Thursday, to be the line the whole piece should follow.

The saw is the fast part. Deciding where it goes can take a month.

Following the grain

The works in this collection all start from that idea: let the material say where it wants to break, and make the cut a continuation of the geology rather than an interruption of it.

It is a slower way to work, and it produces fewer pieces. But it is the only way we know to make something that still looks inevitable in a hundred years.

The studio is open by appointment for anyone who would like to see the process, or to talk about a commission of their own.