Interview about The Monomorph Chair, winner of the A' Furniture Design Award 2025
The Monomorph is a chair that is constructed with 39 identical wooden elements. Working with only one shape to create a chair results in a highly durable, modular product. These triangular shaped elements all come from one sheet of plywood. The 38 elements are connected by steel rods making creating the backrest, seat an legs. The chair can be transported as a flat package and is easy to assemble. The plywood is painted in preselected colors or can be used untreated in the raw edition.
View detailed images, specifications, and award details on A' Design Award & Competition website.
View Design DetailsAs an architect, I’ve always been intrigued by systems and repetition — by how a single intelligent component can create complexity through variation in arrangement. In that sense, The Monomorph is an extension of architectural thinking into the realm of furniture. Standardization, when done thoughtfully, can lead to less waste, more efficient production, and surprisingly expressive outcomes. For me, sustainability isn’t just about materials — it’s also about designing smart, elegant systems that use fewer resources without compromising on aesthetics or quality.
Flat-packing wasn’t just a bonus — it was part of the design brief I set for myself from the beginning. I wanted to create a sculptural, distinctive chair that could be shipped affordably and assembled with minimal tools. This challenge pushed me to explore how parts could interlock and support each other structurally, which ultimately became part of the chair’s visual language. The assembly method is intuitive and almost poetic — like building something from a kit, but with architectural precision.
The idea started as a kind of design provocation: could I make a functional and comfortable chair using only one shape? That self-imposed constraint turned out to be incredibly productive. It forced me to think carefully about angles, structural behavior, and how each part contributes to the whole. Using just one CNC-cut element made production more efficient and minimized offcuts. Ironically, the limitation unlocked a lot of creativity — it turned problem-solving into a design strategy.
The 16-element versions were successful in their own way — they had a strong visual identity and worked well both structurally and ergonomically. However, they relied on a combination of materials, such as paper cord or fabric, to form the seat and backrest. I realized that if I wanted to push the idea of a single, repeating shape even further — not just formally, but also materially — I had to reduce the reliance on secondary components. That’s how the 39-element version emerged: it’s built entirely from one material and one shape, making the concept of modular purity as complete as possible.
The award is a huge encouragement — not just because it celebrates the design itself, but because it validates the thinking behind it. I’ve always believed that simplicity and sophistication aren’t opposites — they’re two sides of the same coin. Going forward, I’ll continue to explore how minimal forms can evoke emotional richness, and how constraints can be engines of elegance rather than limitations.
It took dozens of iterations to find the “golden triangle” — one that looked sharp, carried loads efficiently, and conformed to the human body. Each millimeter shift made a difference, especially in how the seat cradled the sitter or how the backrest met the spine. The final form isn’t just a result of drawing — it’s the product of sitting, adjusting, testing, and repeating. That process mirrors how buildings are refined during design development — the details make all the difference.
Design-led standardization means letting design guide the system, rather than letting the system dictate design. The Monomorph shows that standard parts don’t have to result in generic outcomes. By giving each identical element a unique role within a larger structure, the whole becomes more than the sum of its parts. I believe this approach has huge potential for sustainability: it allows for scalable production with minimal material diversity, yet offers visual richness and adaptability.
Versatility was always part of the ambition. The idea that you could build other pieces — a bench, a sofa, even a daybed — using the same building block was a kind of proof of concept. It’s modularity in its purest form. That adaptability comes not from compromise, but from a strong conceptual foundation: if the shape is right, the possibilities multiply. It’s a bit like LEGO — infinite variation from one smart piece.
In my architectural work, I often focus on transforming overlooked or undervalued spaces. With The Monomorph, I applied the same mindset to material and form — looking for untapped potential in repetition, in offcuts, in constraints. Traditional furniture design often starts with form and then adds structure; I reversed that process. By starting with structure, the form emerged naturally. That’s where design gets interesting — when it’s both honest and inventive.
Start with a clear constraint — not as a limitation, but as a creative tool. Innovation often comes from working within a tight framework. Also, prototype early and often. Let your hands — and your body — be part of the design process. And finally, don’t be afraid to rethink conventions. A chair doesn’t have to look like a chair, as long as it invites you to sit.
Dive into a world of design excellence with our curated highlights. Each feature showcases outstanding creativity, innovation, and impact from the design world. Discover inspiration and learn more about these incredible achievements.