The Three Oaks

Edward Collinson

“I'm at my most creative when I’m alone, either walking or running or cycling. These activities clear the mind and allow new ideas to form. They are forms of meditation as you focus on just your breathing and the mind gets distracted from the noise of day-to-day interactions” — Edward Collinson

Raised in Yorkshire, the son of an architect and a farmer, artist turned craftsman Edward Collinson builds heirloom quality furniture inspired by his rural heritage. Based in north London, Collinson established his eponymous studio in 2015. His latest collection, The Three Oaks, is crafted from trees felled on family land (the site since replenished with 21 new saplings). Organic and home-grown, with an almost monastic simplicity, it celebrates the raw materiality of British wood, blending centuries-old techniques and a sense of nostalgia with Collinson’s eye for clean, minimalist shapes and sinuous lines. Inspiration often comes from primary forms “burned into the memory” — his Low Back Chair was inspired by school laboratory stools, while his spherical Note Table , inspired by traditional barrel making, was triple fumed; an historic process that darkens wood, producing a rich deep brown tone.

Having studied fine art at Central St Martin’s, Collinson’s route into furniture was unplanned, yet serendipitous. In 2012, while working as a sculptor, he built a “technically crude” kitchen for his studio, which piqued the interest of a contact with its rustic reclaimed charm. The contact soon became a client, commissioning a similar kitchen and word soon spread. It was a revelation for the modest craftsman who, while a keen woodworker (he built his first shed aged seven,) had never considered himself a designer. As an artist, his process was often lengthy, producing works that were ephemeral and temporal, which, while critically well received, were often hard to sell. “With furniture it’s different, he says, “I make things that are built to last, but because they’re commissions, the transient nature means that when something is made it leaves the studio and I move onto something else. Creatively, it’s been really freeing.”

Edward Collinson, photograph by Simon Bevan

What do you consider your greatest achievement?

It might sound prosaic, but it’s just still being here, having not quit when things get rough. Making furniture can be tough and making it pay is even harder. I’m not there yet, but I’ve wanted to quit a few times so just having got through a few years of business feels like the best achievement.

What would you be doing if you weren’t a craftsman?

I think I’d almost certainly work in architecture. Architecture, including interior architecture, is something I haven’t explored yet. In many ways I already do it, particularly in kitchen design I often design the interior for a client along with the furniture. I would love to explore this more and perhaps even design complete buildings too.

A tree felled for Collinson’s Three Oaks collection, photograph by Harley Weir

Which artist would you collect if you could?

I’d buy Wilder Shores of Love by CY Twombly, two or three gouache studies by Thomas Schutte, a Seagram Mural by Rothko, and a Barbara Hepworth sculpture to go in the centre of the room. That would be the first room, does that count?

The place or site that most inspires you?

I'm at my most creative when I’m alone, either walking or running or cycling. These activities clear the mind and allow new ideas to form. They are forms of meditation as you focus on just your breathing and the mind gets distracted from the noise of day-to-day interactions. Oddly, these all happen away from the studio, I guess it’s just the place I go to unload ideas, not make new ones.

Note table, part of the Three Oaks Edition by Simon Bevan

Where’s the most unforgettable place you’ve travelled?

That would be Georgia, the republic not the state. I stayed in Tbilisi for around a year, but I remember when I first flew in it was dark and there was fog over the runway and around the old Soviet hangars on the airfield. That moment evoked all the mystery that makes Georgia so special. I knew very little about the country when I arrived, but Georgia had such emotive power right from the start. Their pre-Soviet culture survived more than most Soviet states, there are pockets of community in the mountains which were untouched during that period. I went there to teach art just after graduating. The landscape is incredible, year-round snow in the north Caucasus and desert in the south, then tropical forests in the west. It’s amazing for such a small country.

What’s the best souvenir you’ve brought home from your travels?

I think I’m more interested in experiences than objects. I worked for BDDW in Philadelphia and then travelled to the southern states of America, driving and exploring. I brought back good memories from there; I love the vernacular in rural Texas, the countryside is littered with old wooden houses and shacks. I like to take photographs of local vernacular styles or interesting buildings when I travel; I have a collection of photography from across the world, which I guess you could call souvenirs. I’ve been doing that for over ten years. Switzerland and Texas are two favourite places.

Tell us about a recent ‘find’?

I visited a flour mill in the south of France, which a friend has converted into their home and studio. It’s about one kilometer upstream from the Milau Viaduct, designed by Norman Foster and engineered by Michel Virlogeux. I’ve never seen what I would call a ‘lightness of touch’ on such a huge scale. The composition of the bridge is perfect, it’s quite pared back, having only one set of cables in the centre of the structure instead of two like a suspension bridge. I think its success has to do with how many ideas and conversations it evokes with a simple form. I see the bridge like a prayer, it seems other worldly and yet is rooted in the landscape. In this way it transforms the landscape, it’s quite brilliant.

Which object would you never part with?

I’d part with everything; I don’t think it’s healthy to be unable to let things go. The only thing I do collect is Bonsai; I have a small collection. I also bought a Maple recently, which needs loads of love.

Low back chair, by Simon Bevan

What’s your greatest indulgence?

I guess having a creative practice and making sure that every day, even in times that are really busy, in fact especially at stressful times, I make sure I give a couple of hours every day to designing or making something new and unexpected.

How would you spend your perfect weekend in your hometown?

For me, that’s a lunch at Rochelle Canteen in Shoreditch that lasts until dinner, followed by dinner that goes on until midnight. We can break that down to – lots of great food and drink and losing track of time. There’s also something there about escapism, escaping the feeling of heightened awareness that comes with living in such a busy city. I saw an interview with Brian Eno recently where he talks about our mental state when we live in a city like London. It’s a dangerous place in many ways, the mind is on constant alert. Eno talks about the difference between this state and a state of submission, where we can relax and let go, allowing the mind to wander or daydream. Rochelle Canteen, 5 Playground Gardens (+44 (0)20 7729 5667; www.rochelleschool.org)

If you didn’t live in London, where would you live and why?

I’d quite like to live in France, I’ve travelled there a lot. The quality of food and the cooking of a meal can occupy hours of conversation; there’s a great quality of life there and great light in many places.

What’s next?

One thing I’m doing long term is partnering with a farm in Yorkshire to manage their woodland. This includes an Oak forest and other smaller woodlands of different species. It will be a 40-year program, which will help develop the woodlands to maturity by periodically thinning them out. We need to build storage for the timber and I’m working with the Forestry Commission to develop the schedule. Maybe I’ll end up a timber merchant, I don’t know. It’s a bit crazy to go in this direction, but it seems important to me.

Collinson’s work is available directly, including bespoke commissions, while an edit is available at The New Craftsman, UK and Garde, US.

Camilla Frances