Wood
Every piece begins with the timber. British hardwoods, selected tree by tree, shaped and finished with intent.
We buy our timber in the form of trees — whole trees, planked into various thicknesses. This allows us to carefully select and balance grain patterns when making your furniture. We search out the maverick trees: rippled ash, tiger oak, olive ash, pippy elm, quilted maple, lacewood. These timbers have a more interesting tale to tell.
"I seem to be engaged in a 40-year affair with timber. It beguiles me, and has done since I got up to unmentionable mischief beneath it as a child. The towering elms of my youth, the windbreaks of beech or the steep cliffs of ash — all held individual secrets, a narrative of existence revealed by their grain when felled or fallen, converted and seasoned."
Oak
Hearts of oak: robust, versatile, beautiful. We use it extensively in the workshop — for framing, panels, drawer sides and statement pieces alike. Its fine grain and strength make it a favourite for both structural elements and more expressive work.
We also seek out rarer variants — burr, tiger, bog, and pippy — each with its own character and story. Oak is never just oak.
Tiger Oak
Oak transformed by nature and time. A fungus called Fistulina hepatica — the beefsteak fungus — sometimes colonises the roots of a living oak, triggering a slow chemical reaction with its tannins. This produces dark streaks that ripple through the otherwise pale honey grain. As it progresses, the timber passes through brindle oak and eventually becomes brown oak, developing richer colour and dramatic figure at each stage.
These markings are not flaws but natural features that reveal the tree's unique history. We choose tiger oak for pieces where a bold natural pattern adds depth and distinction to the design.
Bog Oak
Around 6,000 years ago, the seas around Britain were in turmoil. Tempests and deluges brought down great oaks along the country's eastern edge. Many were swallowed by the rising silt and lay preserved in the anaerobic stillness of the bog — a kind of time capsule.
To this day, farmers curse the jarring thud of a plough striking one of these buried giants. But from that frustration comes a rare opportunity. Bog oak varies in tone from pitch black at the outer edge to olive green at the core. Its density and age give it presence, gravitas and a story deeper than any finish could mimic. We use it sparingly and with reverence.
Burr
One of nature's most expressive flourishes — a timber grain gone wild. Burr occurs when a tree reacts to stress or injury by growing dense, contorted clusters of dormant buds. The result is a tangled, dramatic grain full of knots, whorls and unpredictable beauty.
We search it out wherever we can: in elm and oak especially, and more rarely in maple and sweet chestnut. Elm in particular holds a special place — we try to honour a timber that was once widespread and beloved, before Dutch Elm Disease claimed the majority of Britain's trees in the 1970s. Elm isn't easy. It resists you, but once captured and honed, its rugged character is worn on its sleeve.
Rippled
In species like ash, sycamore or maple, a striking visual effect appears occasionally — a wave-like grain that catches the light in a distinctive, shimmering pattern once the wood is planked, planed and polished. In oak and walnut it is vanishingly rare.
One cause is stress: a tree growing out of a south-facing bank, reaching toward the sun, develops internal tension that produces gentle rippling along the grain. The other is genetic: a fault in the hormone that regulates growth sends the grain one way and then another, producing an undulation that the Germans prize so highly they have cloned rippled maple and cultivated entire plantations for violin backs. We Brits have some way to go.
Quarter-sawn
Look at the end of a felled tree and you'll see its life written in rings. Radiating outward from the centre, perpendicular to those rings, are faint lines known as medullary rays. In some species they are barely visible; in others, they shimmer like silk.
When timber is sawn so that the face of the plank runs parallel to these rays, the result is not only visually captivating but more stable than flat-sawn boards. Quarter-sawn oak reveals silver grain — swirls and streaks of pale contrast that ripple across the surface. In London plane, the same principle earns a different name entirely: lacewood. And with that, a heftier price tag — the timber trade's poetic licence in action.
Provenance
There are precious few outlets for home-grown timber and only a handful of sawmills left in Britain still cutting local trees. We spend a great deal of time seeking out these sawyers and searching for British timbers grown and cropped in sustainably managed woodlands — oaks, ash, elm, beech, walnut, sweet chestnut, yew, sycamore, maple, with occasional rarities such as holly, lacewood, boxwood, apple, pear and cherry.
We are trying to find woods that tell the story of our nation. Each tree viewed tells an individual story. We aim to expose its charms and memorialise it in pieces of worthwhile furniture.