DISORIENTED CHAIR

At its core is a minimalist steel frame, punctuated with exposed rivets that speak to craftsmanship and permanence. But the soul of the piece lies in its unexpected backrest: a reclaimed copper gas pipe, curved and aged by time, now elevated to a central aesthetic feature.

It’s called the Disoriented Chair not because its form is chaotic—it is, in fact, composed of clean, decisive lines—but because it embodies a deeper kind of disorientation: the quiet, existential kind. It challenges the viewer to reconcile its clarity of shape with the complexity of its materials and origins. The contrast between the rigid steel structure and the warm, timeworn copper pipe evokes a tension between order and entropy, progress and decay. It asks: in a world obsessed with polish and uniformity, what does it mean to sit with something that carries the memory of disorder?