N ° 11 WINTER PRINT COLLECTOR'S EDITION PROFILE

 

SHAPES THAT TRANSFORM HOW WE LIVE

 
 

“There’s something incredibly powerful in communicating through form and texture rather than words. It’s almost a love language.”

—  ARTHUR VALLIN

 

( cover ) Chubby Coffee Table, Italian Travertine. ( right ) Octane, Saint Laurent Marble. ( left ) Portrait of Arthur Vallin by Kevin Sinclair.

SCULPTING SPACE

Interview David Gargiulo

Arthur Vallin’s furniture designs are celebrated for their boldness, precision, and fusing artistic expression with everyday functionality. Drawing inspiration from a wide array of influences, Arthur creates pieces that push the boundaries of traditional furniture, often incorporating unexpected shapes and materials to evoke strong emotional responses. His signature approach involves transforming raw materials into sculptural, highly functional works of art. One of his most notable series, the Octane collection, blends dynamic, organic forms with geometric precision, while his Chubby collection explores more rounded, whimsical shapes. These collections highlight Arthur’s mastery of balancing aesthetics with practicality, allowing the collectibles to serve as both art and furniture. His works are often characterized by their sense of fluidity and movement as if they are in constant transformation.

Testarossa Console, Lacquer.

David Gargiulo __ Let's start with your beginnings. Could you tell me about your background, your studies, and how you decided to enter furniture design?

Arthur Vallin __ I trained as an art director at Penninghen in Paris, where I focused on photography, typography, and layout design. It was a traditional education, and I finished my master’s in 2010. Right after, social media exploded, transforming the commercial space overnight. None of what I learned in school fully applied to this new digital landscape, so I had to adapt quickly, which I think set the tone for my career. Later, I co-founded an advertising company called Harley & Company with my business and life partner, Sarah [Hall]. The agency covered a range of projects, from digital campaigns to physical events, and I started to really enjoy creating immersive worlds with craftspeople: carpenters, electricians, and light designers. But it always struck me how much effort went into something that would be taken down in a day. After six months of work with a team of a hundred people, you do the event for one night, then break it down, and it is all discarded. I couldn’t get past that sense of waste; all that effort felt discredited somehow. When the pandemic hit, everything stopped, and I wanted to challenge myself to create something more lasting. That’s when I started designing furniture, pieces that people wouldn’t just throw away. Marble was an obvious choice for me because, honestly, good luck getting rid of a thousand-kilo marble table! [laughs] That sense of permanence really appealed to me.

DG __ So, this initial inspiration led to your Chubby collection?

AV __ Yes, exactly. Chubby really set the tone for my current aesthetic. The collection is sculptural and architectural but still feels warm and organic. Marble, usually associated with a more rigid and classic look, becomes round, soft, and welcoming in this collection. The whole process felt like a natural extension of my work as a creative director. Everything I’d learned along the way, from working with craftsmen to creating technical plans, managing timelines, and marketing, I could apply directly to this furniture collection. It was like all my past experiences were leading up to this, even though I didn’t realize it then.

DG __ You work with a lot of international craftsmen. How does that collaboration unfold?

AV __ It’s fascinating and one of my favorite parts of the work. Every craftsman I work with, whether in Mexico, Portugal, or Italy, has a unique approach and sensitivity to their craft. There’s something incredibly powerful in communicating through form and texture rather than words. It’s almost a love language, this shared fascination for the shapes, finishes, and textures we’re creating. Even if we don’t share the same spoken language, we understand each other through the material. Working with stone, for example, feels timeless; it’s a craft that predates modern language, rooted in the first human need to build with stone. This connection to ancient practices makes it incredibly rewarding.

Chubby Stool, Verde Alpi.

DG __ One thing that caught my attention was when you said that social media changed everything when it took off. Could you elaborate on what you meant by that?

AV __ Yeah, for sure. My school, Penninghen, has a Swiss approach to graphic design that is structured and precise. We focused on grids, layouts, and print media like posters and books. But with social media, all of that suddenly felt outdated—many of those print techniques just weren’t needed anymore, especially as magazines had to find new ways to monetize. My first job was designing an app for the iPad, which was nothing like what I’d studied. I had to learn by doing and working with developers. So, adapting those old principles to an entirely new medium was challenging. Those challenges were often unpleasant; I’d think, “What am I doing?” but it taught me to adapt over time. You go through that learning process once, twice, three times, and you start to understand that adapting is just part of it. The fear subsides because you’ve faced it before, and you get used to looking for those little “checkpoints” that guide you through.

DG __ You make it sound almost easy, but that level of adaptation can be difficult for most people. Many struggle with resisting change. How did you build that confidence?

AV __ Honestly, it started with a lot of anxiety! At first, it’s not confidence but self-doubt, wondering if you’re capable of doing something you’ve never done. The only way to overcome that is through overworking the problem sometimes, pushing yourself through the discomfort. It’s not always pleasant, but when you make it through, there’s a peace that comes from having done it. Confidence only builds over time through repeated experience, and you start to understand that self-doubt can be valuable; it keeps you from becoming arrogant and forces you to push yourself. If you’re terrified of failing, you work harder. And yes, failure is part of it, but each failure teaches you why it didn’t work. Now, with over 15 years in advertising, I have some perspective. I’ve had so many ups and downs, so when I started furniture design, I didn’t feel the same pressure. This was something new, a side project without the financial pressure or client’s demands. It started from a place of enjoyment.

DG __ Reinventing yourself and trying new things is essential, even if it means some failures along the way. Each experience, whether successful or not, teaches you something valuable for the next one. But some people might say it's easier when you already have one stable part of your life that gives you financial security. What's your advice for those who don’t have that stability but want to explore creatively?

AV __ That’s a great question. I’ve been lucky that I could start this project at a time in my life when I didn’t have the pressure to make it my primary source of income. If I’d needed this project to pay my bills, I don’t think the outcome would’ve been the same. It probably would have impacted the design itself, as I’d be focused more on selling than creating for myself. My advice to others would be that, if possible, find a way to cover your basic needs, ideally with a job that doesn’t drain you creatively, so your art can remain a space for freedom.

DG __ So you’re saying it’s about balancing creative freedom with financial realities. That makes a lot of sense, especially considering your background in commercial art, where art is aimed at achieving a marketing goal.

AV __  Exactly. Coming from an art direction background, I’ve always been aware of the tension between creative expression and financial ROI [Return On Investment]. True art isn’t about selling; it’s about freedom of expression. When art becomes something you rely on to make a living, that freedom gets complicated. The art market itself has become more complicated nowadays. There are more galleries, and collectible design is blending with traditional art. The platforms available for selling art online have made buying and selling much more accessible. You can now purchase beautiful pieces of art with a few clicks. But in a way, it’s also less personal. In the past, you'd visit just a handful of galleries to buy art. Now, it’s about navigating a fragmented marketplace.

DG __ Yeah, but I would push back and say that the online transition has increased the total addressable market. More money, more buyers, there’s a larger audience now.

AV __ True, but I’d be curious to know if, with the influx of new artists, overall, they’re actually making a better living. For example, I was looking into the Spotify business model, and while they claim to help artists live better, it turns out that only 0.05% of the top artists actually make enough to live off their music. The rest of them make about $30 a month on average, which isn’t sustainable.

DG __ So the promise of democratized access didn’t really pan out.

Mille Feuille, Lacquer.

AV __ No, it didn’t. And that’s tough to answer in a general sense because every person’s journey is different. Some will have instant success, while others will take longer. Personally, I’ve always been quite impatient—New York tends to make you that way—but I’ve learned that art is about patience. It’s about not rushing and letting time do its thing. This is the first venture I’ve done without any time pressure. I just let it happen naturally, and, interestingly, it worked better than the projects I’ve put tons of pressure on. It took me about a year to make my first sale, and I wasn’t stressed about it. I just let things unfold. Time really is valuable in this process.

DG __ I completely agree. We’ve become conditioned to expect instant success, especially with social media’s influence on society. People think that success should happen quickly, whether in business, investments, or startups, and investors often give startups a one to two year runway before pulling the plug.

AV __ It’s wild when you think about it.

DG __ There’s no time to let things mature anymore, right?

AV __ Exactly. And this applies not just to business but to art as well. There’s this expectation that either you have a "blow-up" moment, like going viral, or investors will just move on to the next thing.

DG __ The lack of patience and the need for instant results is part of the problem. You can have a viral moment, but if you haven’t built a solid foundation through time, experience, and thoughtful work, that success won’t last. You can't rely solely on these fleeting moments—they’re unsustainable.

AV __ No, and it’s often uneven. Even when something works, the next project could fail. I think timing plays a big part in all of this. For instance, I read about a track by Kavinsky that was used in the Olympics—co-written with Daft Punk and produced by top artists. It didn’t take off when it was first released, but then, 10 years later, it became iconic after being featured in the movie Drive. Sometimes, art takes time to find its place in the world.

DG __ It’s fascinating how something can be ahead of its time and not be appreciated until later.

AV __ Exactly. Some pieces of art will have no value in their current time but will be incredible in the future. Look at Van Gogh, he struggled to sell his work during his lifetime, but now he’s one of the most celebrated artists in history. Not everything needs to have an immediate market. Sometimes, you create, and the piece will eventually find its way.

DG __ Let’s bring it back to your art. You work with a wide variety of materials and crafts. How do you select the materials for your pieces, and how important is craftsmanship in your work?

AV __ When selecting materials, I rely on the expertise of the craftsmen I work with. They know what materials are best for a specific piece, based on both aesthetics and functionality. I prefer using what they call “noble materials,” high-quality stones, metals, and the like. But craftsmanship is essential in making the vision come to life. It's all about the knowledge a craftsman brings: understanding the material's resistance, how it reacts to heat, how it can be cut, and more. The partnership between the designer and the craftsmen is crucial. They become an extension of your hands. They’re the ones who can bring your design to life while respecting the material. It's a balance—pushing the material to its limits while maintaining its strength. It’s about respecting the material, if you know what I mean.

DG __ Staying on the concept of respecting the material. Your design is contemporary, but you often work with materials that aren’t traditionally used for the shapes you create. It seems like your collaboration with craftsmen helps you maintain a link to tradition while still pushing the boundaries of design. Could you elaborate on that?

Ipséité Coffee Table, Arabescato Grigio.

AV __ Absolutely. A recent example comes to mind; there was a client who wanted a piece with a lot of movement, but the shape was very round and three-dimensional. I worked with my team to select a stone that could bring that sense of movement to life. For instance, they suggested the Alpi stone with intense white veining that would curve along the piece or Rosso Luana with its striking waves. There’s a real excitement from the craftsmen when they see how the stone interacts with the design. When we receive the stone, it often comes as a flat, two-dimensional sheet. But we have to imagine it in three dimensions. It’s like looking at a galaxy; what you see on the surface is only the beginning. As we carve into the stone, the veins reveal themselves in unexpected ways. It’s a powerful process because the stone is ancient; it’s millions of years old and was once part of a mountain. Think about it. How crazy is that? Millions of years of mineral compression. It’s fascinating. It's a piece of universe collected into the mountain and you're carving into it. There’s also something magical about stopping at the right moment. With carving, if you remove too much, you can’t go back. It’s a delicate process. In contrast to photo retouching or painting, where you can add and adjust, carving is about removal. It’s risky, but the craftsmen know exactly when to stop, and that’s something I deeply respect.

DG __ The objects you design are not just for aesthetics; they also have to be functional. How do you balance the need for functionality with the desire to create highly artistic pieces?

AV __ I approach it by starting with constraints. For example, when designing a coffee table, I imagine an invisible cube. There are specific parameters I need to respect, such as height and width, which are influenced by standard dimensions. There’s a book, Neufert’s Architects' Data, written in 1936, which details dimensions for everything: how high a seat should be, how deep the leg under the seat should be, how wide a bathroom should be for comfort. It’s about understanding those invisible constraints. With a coffee table, I know it can’t be just any size; it has to fit within certain measurements, like the typical 35 to 50 cm height range. The constraints are essential for the object to function properly, but inside those boundaries, I have total freedom to innovate. I can approach the design artistically as long as it stays within those limits. That’s my creative playground. As long as the dimensions are respected, the piece will function as intended, whether it's a coffee table, dining table, or console.

DG __ This connects well with what you said earlier about creativity with rules in the arts. For example, fractal geometry is deeply tied to the concept of ordered chaos. People often think of it as math, but I believe it’s also connected to art because math and art are intertwined. This ties back to what you were talking about—the constraints in design reflect the real-world limits; without those, it would be chaos. In art, too, there are rules to follow, or else the piece wouldn’t make sense. It’s fascinating how people overlook the relationship between math and art.

AV __ Some artists apply these concepts intuitively. For example, if you look at Basquiat’s work, it seems very organic and spontaneous, but there’s actually a process behind it that’s almost mechanical or mathematical. It’s his own formula that he applies to the canvas. In our field, whether it’s furniture design or any other creative discipline, we have our own set of guidelines. Things like the golden ratio. These principles are rooted in math and help create a visual harmony that works. Humans are naturally drawn to symmetry and patterns. Fractals are everywhere in nature; they look magical, even though they’re based on mathematical patterns. It’s almost like we’re surrounded by invisible numbers that create harmony, making everything come together like a symphony.

DG __ I love that! And you see that in your marble designs too. As you get closer to the surface, you start to see these repeating patterns, like a universe within the stone.

AV __ Exactly, and there’s something special in that. While the pattern repeats, there’s always an accident, something unexpected, that makes the piece unique.

DG __ You often experiment with new manufacturing techniques. Can you share an example of a recent technique that excited you and how it transformed one of your designs?

AV __ Sure! I'm currently experimenting with a technique involving "green wood." Essentially, you take a fresh tree trunk—cut it the day before—and immediately begin carving into it, like you would with marble. The key is that the wood is still wet, not dried out. After you carve it, you leave it out in the sun to dry. As it dries, the wood cracks and changes, which alters the shape of your design. You can control the amount of time the piece spends drying, like a few weeks; during that time, the cracks add character to the piece. It's fascinating because you get this organic transformation that wouldn’t happen with traditional methods. To stabilize the wood, I use a technique called Shou Sugi Ban, where you burn the wood’s exterior. The burning creates a crust that helps prevent further cracking or changes. It essentially locks the wood in place, giving the piece a matte finish and making it more durable. The process is very natural—cutting, carving, and then burning—and the result is something unique that evolves with time.

DG __ That sounds so cool. I wanted to touch on AI since it's such a big topic right now. How do you see technology, like AI or digital fabrication, affecting the future of collectible design?

AV __ Well, I'm sure it will have some impact. It's inevitable. Designers will emerge from it. Some are already trying to sell pieces clearly designed by AI. I've seen some attempts where designers created AI-generated designs and tried to market them as collectible pieces.

DG __ Are you talking about NFTs [Non Fungible Tokens] or something else?

AV __ Not necessarily NFTs. I've seen entirely AI-generated designs but have yet to see them made into physical objects. The next challenge will be translating those AI designs into real-world pieces. I think AI will definitely impact the design world, but at the end of the day, AI is just a tool. It's like Photoshop. It's not going to create masterpieces on its own. For instance, one of the first AI-created art pieces was called The Next Rembrandt, it was an algorithm that analyzed Rembrandt’s work and created something new based on that. But, it wasn’t really a new Rembrandt; it was just a replication. To truly evolve, human input is still necessary. Sure, AI is evolving quickly, and in the future, it may come closer to replicating human creativity, but for now, I think brilliant ideas still need a human touch. We're still in the early stages of AI, so it’s hard to predict where it will go. It’s like talking about the internet in the early '90s; it was unimaginable how big it would get. AI might be similar. It's exciting yet unpredictable.

DG __ Are you considering adding AI to your design process?

AV __ I use it often in my advertising work but not in my collectible design. I enjoy the process of creating my own designs. There's a sense of pride when you develop an idea yourself. If I just fed an image to AI and let it generate something similar to my own work, I don't think I'd feel the same excitement or connection to it.

DG __ You work across various mediums, from furniture to immersive experiences. Is there a medium or type of project that you haven’t yet explored and are excited to try?

AV __ That’s a great question. I am still determining the medium, but the best projects often come from the challenges my clients present to me. For example, during the pandemic, we shifted from live photo and video shoots to creating an immersive audio experience. It was entirely different for me because there was no visual element, just sound, but it was incredibly rewarding. Another medium I’ve always been intrigued by is dance. It combines so many elements—movement, energy, and choreography. I think working with dancers and choreographers to create a unique experience could be something very exciting to explore.

DG __ I love the idea of combining live events and dance to create a new form of expression.

AV __ Exactly! The ephemeral nature of it makes it even more special. You create something powerful in the moment, and then it’s gone, which makes it a unique way to engage with an audience.