Catskills, New York, @za.chary We know very little about Canadian-born, upstate New York–based designer Zach Besner, except that he shows with Carpenter’s Workshop Gallery, and we like the contrast between the puffed-up softness of his inflated-metal furniture and its raw, at times almost alien forms. He’s also doing interesting things with twisted ropes of metal, and if his practice still seems a little nascent, we’re hoping that in time, more will be revealed. What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? Thinking about the rural area I spend my time in, the universal influence has yet to really take over. With the globalization of trends afforded by the internet, things end up looking relatively similar. Here, though, design plays out in a time warp of sorts that I really enjoy. The vehicles people drive are older, their dress older, their hairstyles unaffected by time. The local vernacular is not aesthetically driven but follows a make-do sensibility and resilience. To me, these brutish, piecemeal constructions scattered around the mountains represent Americana ideals more than anything else. I appreciate the independent nature and resourcefulness of this way of being. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  I’m working on a show with Jack Chiles slated for the springtime. I’m hoping to buy a small parcel of land and start plans for the construction of a living space. What inspires or informs your work in general? I’ve been spending a lot more time gardening the last few years. I can’t say there’s an immediate connection that leads anywhere in particular, but perhaps some of the construction or patterns that exist here are being turned up in small efforts in the work. Largely this space is to relax and provides a reminder to be patient and let things happen as they see fit. I enjoy working with aluminum sheet as always. The rapid changes to the metal that happen by way of inflation are always fun, even if they happen unpredictably at times.

New Fairfield, Connecticut, wretchedflowers.com Husband and wife duo Loney Abrams and Johnny Stanish collaborated for more than a decade before launching Wretched Flowers as a furniture studio this past May. Their gorgeously goth chainmail curtain, decorated in a delicate floral, studded with antique white jade beads, and on view at Jacqueline Sullivan Gallery last year, set our hearts aflame. One look at the rest of their work — the cascading metal mesh lampshades, the spiky wall-mounted sconces, the mirrors encircled by thorns — and we were hooked. Though often inspired by ancient craft, they’ve also birthed one of the more ingenious contemporary design hacks we’ve seen — on their site, as “Reched Flours,” they sell dupes of their own work, replicating their most popular pieces in black 3D-printed bioplastic rather than metal, selling them at a much more accessible price point, and, in effect, short-circuiting the whole knockoff system.  What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? American design draws from such an incredible diversity of influences. The lack of a shared heritage allows for a freedom and range that’s really exciting. There’s no singular lineage or fixed aesthetic we’re bound to follow. Instead, we create meaning and context by pulling together references from disparate sources. And if the results are contradictory — well, that’s American design. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  Right now we’re very focused on designing a new collection for 2025 and we’re still ironing out how and where we’ll exhibit it. Excited about the possibilities! And we’re decorating our new-ish house, where we’ll happily host new and old friends. What inspires or informs your work in general? The Arms and Armor collection at The Met. Tramp Art from the Great Depression. Textiles, specifically filet crochet. All of our pieces directly reference these influences, updating ancient artistry for contemporary living. Our chainmail pieces, for instance, were inspired by medieval helmets rimmed with hanging mesh, which we saw at The Met. Those forms evolved into our chainmail table and floor lamps — transforming symbols of violence into sources of light and warmth. We incorporate gemstone beads into our chainmail lighting and tapestries, arranging them in patterns sourced from historic weaving templates. Mixing chainmail with domestic textile references adds a feminine sweetness to an otherwise brutal and masculine material. The same ethos applies to our “Crown of Thorns” series, named … Continue reading Wretched Flowers

Providence, Rhode Island, samindaman.com Samuel Aguirre worked in business development for more than a decade before his big lightbulb moment happened while making papier-mâché with his young son. One MFA in furniture design at RISD later, Aguirre is a star on the rise, and one of a new generation for whom it’s imperative to work within a circular system. Aguirre makes work using natural materials — paper pulp, mulberry fibers, muslin, cornstarch — that will last “as long as you’d like” and then compost at the end of their life. Drawing on pre-industrial processes — like weaving fiber into a grid and then pounding it with a stone to make paper — Aguirre nevertheless works within a wholly contemporary object vernacular: slumped lamps, crisp credenzas, and gridded seats, among them. What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? I am happy to say America is slowly moving on from the shades of grey, millennial design we’ve been spoon-fed for too long. There is a momentum behind people acting on their ideas and creating authentic objects, spaces, and communities. The result is a beautiful mash-up of DIYers, hobbyists, artists, craftspeople, and creatives from all walks of life exploring their own aesthetic. Much like the fabric of America, American Design is not just one thing. It’s less about “what is it?” and more about “why is it?” It feels inclusive, authentic, and uninhibited. To be fair, I don’t know what “it” is, but I think in a decade we will look back, identify the golden nuggets of the era and label the movement. Please check back in 10 years with a follow up. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  I plan to… Collaborate! Collaborating with other creatives has been a staple of my practice. There are a couple of collaborations in process and I hope some of that work will be ready for release late 2025. Participate! I’ll spend the first half of 2025 in a business development program for early stage, design-driven studios, called DesignxRI (Design by Rhode Island) Spring Design Catalyst Program. Over the past year, I’ve had endless conversations with my maker community about the financial health of our studios. There is a genuine interest and need to create more public discourse about the business end of running a furniture studio, weathering the inevitable hurdles and navigating the sometimes broken distribution … Continue reading Samuel Aguirre

New York, @shanegabier We were already fans of Shane Gabier’s gloriously hued, interestingly textured ceramics — see our profile of the former fashion designer back in 2022 — but this was the year his work seemed to pop up literally everywhere: tiny sculptures on the shelves at Beverly’s, figurative bookends at Casa Shop, geometric soap dispensers at Gem Home, seahorse-shaped sconces at Quarters, matcha bowls at CAP Beauty. Each piece, informed by things like Modernist design, ’70s psychedelia, and Brutalist architecture, was more covetable than the last.  What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? I think that the idea of wide open possibility has always been the most exciting thing about American design — the opportunity to go deeply into one’s own world. Before making ceramic work, my background was in fashion. I think in American fashion, as with American design in general, there is a pragmatism that hopes to balance newness with functionality. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  For the first few months of 2025, I am focusing on some new work, larger scale. 2024 was packed with back-to-back projects and really tight turnarounds, so I am going to slow things down a bit so I can do some deeper investigations into some ideas that I’ve only been able to touch upon. Ceramics is truly a medium of endless possibilities, and ideas generate more ideas, so to have the time and space to really dig into some of these feels really exciting and luxurious. I’ve started to take on larger interior and tile projects, and I have a number of these to develop in 2025. For all of them, I’ve been given the creative freedom to explore totally new ideas. Tile is the perfect place to explore color, composition, dimensionality, and form, so I’m excited to see how these all unfold. What inspires or informs your work in general?  The things that I’m interested in are the things I’ve always looked at and cared about. The more I research and develop, the more intersections and dynamic connections I find between all of these; there are always new ways of looking at the same things. Abstract expressionist painting from the ’50s and ’60s, Brutalist architecture, post-punk album covers, Memphis design, Japanese graphic design from the early ’80s, the intersection of art, folk craft, and design, and how all of these can … Continue reading Shane Gabier

New York City, @jennna.g Jenna Graziano worked briefly in fashion before shifting to fine woodworking — and, after graduation, working in the studio of former Hot Lister Minjae Kim — so it makes sense that her work often incorporates materials like freshwater pearls or, in the case of the collaborative chair she made with Madeline Coven, a sling of raw cowhide. She often pairs those more quixotic materials with brutally elemental ones, exploring the point where delicacy meets durability. With only a few designs under her belt, we’re excited to see more.  What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? I really like how crafty and clever American design can be. I get excited about objects that feel unusual, or like they’re colliding with some form of outsider art. There’s something very endearing about objects that are scrappy but also thoughtful and earnest. Someone who comes to mind is Wharton Esherick, whose work has this unconventional and charming quality to it and feels deeply personal and like an expression of his own world. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year? After several years of designing and making furniture, I recently started an MFA in Sculpture to explore a body of work that doesn’t necessarily consider function. I’ve been really engaged with it, but ironically, a lot of the work I’ve made so far hints at functionality in some way. Right now, I’m working on some wall-mounted pieces, like paper quilts incorporating wood and abalone veneer, and also “paintings” with protruded mini furniture models. In my design work, I’ve been thinking about different types of heat sources. I’ve always wanted a fireplace, but living in New York City, only a handful of apartments have them, so I’m prototyping a fixture that uses ceramic (which retains and distributes heat very well) with candles to create a cross between a space heater, chiminea, and fireplace. I’m also designing another piece for the embroidered pearl series, but rather than using sheet metal, it’s going to be either cast metal or possibly cast glass. That said, I’m constantly looking to work with new materials and processes, so it’s likely I’ll go down a different rabbit hole next week and set out to design and make something completely different. What inspires or informs your work in general?  I try to think a lot about the things I liked as … Continue reading Jenna Graziano

New York, partsandlabordesign.com / knownworkstudio.com An interior design firm launching a furniture line isn’t always a successful gambit, despite hearing from clients day in and out about how — and with what — people like to live. But with their first furniture collection under the name Known Work, Parts & Labor founders Danu Kennedy and Jeremy Levitt — along with creative director Alex Dilena — simply knocked it out of the park. A striped chenille loveseat nestled in a mappa burl husk, a Brutalism-tinged steel lamp topped by a glass cube, a lacquered plinth — yes, this is exactly how people like to live. In their interiors, the studio takes a similar interrogative approach, examining the relationship between us, our objects, and the spaces we inhabit. We can’t wait to see what’s next. What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? American design, to us, is about personal expression. An opportunity to create, communicate, and extend something that didn’t exist prior. Design is a global language, and considering there are so many designers in New York and across the country who aren’t American, perhaps “American design” is a catch all for a consolidated expat vision. American design is inherently self-informing as well; because the country is so large, certain “languages” spread and affect each other across states/regions, creating these unique design vernaculars that evolve based on local landscapes. Seemingly, nowadays, another aspect of the American design landscape comes from this tension that exists in manufacturing and fabrication. We’ve observed this effort to make more for less in order to make design more accessible or increase margins. This inevitably leads to a bit of a copy/paste approach across the industry. In that same breath, there’s also the artisan folks who are building by hand, and American design engaging in the folklore of “the maker.” Especially here in New York, we’re fortunate to have a community of craftspeople. We’ve really seen a redirection from both a consumer and cultural standpoint leading to an appreciation and focus on quality and time spent in craft. American design is representing an antithesis to trends or an oversaturated market, embracing the celebration and refocus on heirlooms. We are most excited by this movement towards investing in your environment on the most personal scale, and the stewardship you feel over these precious collectible furniture and craft pieces that one day will be passed … Continue reading Parts & Labor Design / Known Work

New York City and Mexico City, @rafaelsavvy For years we knew Rafael Prieto simply as the founder of the creative agency Savvy Studio, where he did branding projects and produced a beautifully packaged chocolate line called Casa Bosques. But as he’s made more and more furniture — some for his interiors projects, some for galleries like MASA or Emma Scully, where earlier this year he had his first solo show — it became clear to us he belonged on this list, both as a solo practitioner and as one half of Marrow Project, a burgeoning design studio he shares with artist Loup Sarion. What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? According to Chat GPT: American design is a dynamic fusion of functionality, boldness, and cultural diversity. It’s practical, modern, yet approachable. I know back in the day it was, yet now it’s much more diverse, more artful, less purposeful, and shallow in a beautiful way — it’s crafted and about technique, emotion, and feelings. The purpose is no longer just function. Lately between New York and L.A., there’s a blurring of art and design. And that excites me. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  A couple of different things. First, a group show with Emma Scully Gallery. I believe it will be a beautiful and poetic show. Then something I am quite excited about but I cannot share much about is this guest house that I’m working on in Mexico City. It’s an extension of the vision as Savvy Studio into CASA BOSQUES. Eleven rooms with a restaurant downstairs. It’s been a process of doing renovation, designing the spaces, the furniture, the lighting, interesting collaborations with different brands across the globe. It’s one of those times where I feel even more personal in my approach. It’s very me, and I hope people will feel very welcomed, comfortable, and peaceful. I’m excited about this, the mix of identity, space, and furniture design. There’s also the ongoing project that I have with my partner Loup Sarion: Marrow. We’re working on a summer show, different formats of chairs based on our anthropological approach to time and the human body — specifically the back, so this continuation excites me. The project is evolving quite beautifully. Lots of research on materiality and proportions. What inspires or informs your work in general? The pursuit of beauty, at … Continue reading Rafael Prieto

Hudson, New York, jessegroom.com Sometimes, the fastest way to a design editors’ heart is to invent your own process — or, in the case of RISD grad Jesse Groom, to make decorative a process that for years has remained hidden. For his Cicatrix series, Groom takes the molten bead vernacular of welding and makes it his whole thing — entire chairs, lamps, and credenzas, whose weak aluminum frames are made structural and strong by covering them with hundreds of aluminum filler rods, hot-gunned into a crinkly, foundational skin. “I aim to design for the user, but also for the things themselves, trying to interpret their wishes and potential,” Groom has said, and we ask: If you were an object, wouldn’t you like to look as good as the ones on this page? What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? American design at its best, in my opinion, is all about a common phrase: “fuck around and find out.” Is there anything more American than this? I don’t think so, and I think it’s at the core of all worthwhile American Design and in fact all American arts/creativity. Perhaps even to our own detriment sometimes (or because of it), Americans seem to pursue their work with a bravery and audacity that can only be harnessed in a place as wealthy yet uneducated and informal as our country. We have what often seems like a distaste for learning a way — or the way — to do things, and just want to do it anyway, with no solid foundation in history or instruction. I can go on and on about this, and I really believe it is both a good thing and a bad thing, but as of now, I’m using it as a good thing and pursuing my own work with this ethos, being aware of my predecessors but not defined by them. American design and the arts will continue to be exciting because its main purpose is to question the present moment and take another step forward. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year? This next year my plan is to immerse myself in the community of upstate New York, which is new for me. It’s really bucolic. There is so much space and time here, in a way I never experienced in the city growing up. I feel at ease in … Continue reading Jesse Groom

New York, nicholasdevlin.com There have been certain words tossed around the design world in recent years — gloopy, surreal, whimsical, weird — and while Nicholas Devlin’s work has, at times, embodied each of these terms, there’s simply nothing market-driven about his impulses. Devlin makes tender, authentic work that elicits a kind of spasmodic joy, from the frothy white plaster gazebo he debuted at Collectible this fall, meant to resemble a “giant inhabitable strawberry,” to the slick black vanity above, which sprouts tiny houses, Sarah Sherman meatball–style, and harnesses a memory of sitting on the edge of his mother’s bed watching her get ready for work. Devlin’s work challenges us to rethink our ideas about domesticity, art, nostalgia, and queerness; the fact that his work challenges us at all would be reason enough to be on this list.  What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? If I’m being honest, I do my best to spend as much time as I can in the rich interior world of my mind. Not in a bad way, though — in an embodied and present sort of way. There’s a caffeinated, commercially considered, and somewhat lobotomized quality to a lot of what I see, so I try to keep that noise out. In a way, American design, to me, is exactly what I’m doing. Could it be that… I am American design? Maybe it’s the palpably mundane experience of growing up in a generic variety of suburban sameness in Canada — yearning, dreaming, and wishing that every single thing around me didn’t look like that. I’d peer over the fence at the American municipality of New York City and think, “Hey, maybe I should be there. Maybe I could be doing that.” Then I moved here, praying that I, too, might hawk my wares via Instagram and gallery shows, only to be 10k+ in debt within the first three months (not including my student loans). I have this cinematic memory of standing in my kitchen at 2 AM — yellow-beige Formica countertops, orange-brown wood cabinets, a jarring overhead flush mount above me (now that is American design!) — with a tear rolling down my cheek as I asked myself, “What have I done?” But when I’m not crying and in debt, I really do think it’s amazing that I, and so many others, can come here, pursue this work, and … Continue reading Nicholas Devlin

Santa Barbara, California, orlandopippig.com California newcomer Orlando Pippig designs steely, streamlined furniture and lighting with strikingly linear forms, exclusively in natural materials like metal, glass, and wood. He takes inspiration from Japanese architecture and the Light + Space movement — the kind of minimalism where beauty is found in subtle details and in how a piece can define and heighten our experience of a space. You can source Pippig’s works through our Sight Unseen Collection. What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? American design to me is freedom. America doesn’t hold the lengthy history that many other continents/countries do, or a single popular style that the country is known for, which gives us the freedom to pick and pull inspiration from many sources and reinterpret it into something new. Historically, people have come to America for this freedom and with it they bring new concepts. I can immediately think of a handful of German architects who came to America during the 30s and brought with them some of the most exciting architecture concepts of the 20th century: Ludwig Mies Van Der Rohe, Marcel Breuer, Walter Gropius, etc. This certainly excites me because it shows the American people are open to experimentation and seeking out what’s new. As a designer, this is largely the way I think — constantly looking to experiment and find new and exciting ways to work and produce. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  For the upcoming year, I will be focusing on two new ways of working: One is unveiling a handful of lighting designs that I have been working on for the last few months. This has been an exciting challenge vs furniture design as lighting has intricate components that all need to work together to function properly. The second is: I will be focusing on producing a new line of furniture designs, all of which will revolve around a single concept and a small selection of materials. Up until now I’ve been producing singular designs as I think of them, which has been great for experimentation with different forms or materials. However, I’m excited to be working in a new way by focusing on a specific element and finding ways to use it in a larger sense. What inspires or informs your work in general? Lately I’ve been inspired by a new fabrication technique that … Continue reading Orlando Pippig

New York City, nicholasobeid.com We backed into our love of Nicholas Obeid’s work, starting with his first furniture and lighting collection — which launched this past May at Love House in New York — before getting to know on a deeper level the warm, eclectic, often Art Deco–inflected interior design practice he founded in 2018. About that furniture and lighting collection though! Every piece is striking in its architectural simplicity, playing rigid geometries off material softness. And it includes one of the coolest leather sofas we’ve ever seen. What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? Cool, comfortable, craftsmanship. American design is an exciting melting pot of global influence and myriad styles, from Deco New York skyscrapers to California Modernism and Ralph Lauren Southwestern in between. It’s young, it’s individual, and at its best, it can be a bit of everything. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  A wellness spa and cafe in Greenwich, Connecticut, a loft gut-renovation in Williamsburg, and a Spanish colonial residence in Los Angeles. In 2024, launching my studio’s furniture collection — all made in America from incredible artisans — was a labor of love. In 2025, I’m excited to stock pieces for designers and explore new materials and forms. I’m grateful every day I get to flex so many design muscles. What inspires or informs your work in general? In my interior design work, it’s incredible to shift gears to the architectural scope of kitchens and bathrooms. As evident in my furniture collection, which I envisioned as simplistic yet powerfully present, geometry tends to orient me first. Inherently, that informs the material choices based on appropriate application. I’m inspired by the positive feedback I’ve received from designers and architects and am excited to expand the collection. Let me know what you all would love to see!

Los Angeles, ryanpreciado.com Every once in awhile we re-honor someone on the Hot List if we feel their work has taken a new direction and deserves a fresh look, and L.A.’s Ryan Preciado easily fit that bill for us this year. First nominated in 2020 with a handful of more conventional furnishings, Preciado has since released a flood of more intentional works that — shown primarily in an art gallery context — are unique in their ability to span both worlds without relying on craftiness and complexity. They’re essentially functional Postmodernism-inspired sculpture, and we would live with every single piece. What is American design to you, and what excites you about it? The term “American” is loaded because in the US it’s understood to refer to a certain culture and system that is born within the borders of the United States. The Americas are much larger, and to be “an American” means a lot more than most people associate with it (by design, pun not intended). It’s important to take this into consideration when talking about design in the United States, as it is to question the idea of any monolithic identity. Design as I see it is as bound up in local and cultural (including diasporic) specificity as it is in class politics: Whose name gets to be on something? Who actually made it with their hands and/or in a factory? What were the labor conditions? These are the more important questions to me. What are your plans and highlights for the upcoming year?  I’m working on a show that will be in Frank Lloyd Wright’s Hollyhock house, here in Los Angeles. It will open late February 2025. What inspires or informs your work in general? The last couple of weeks, what’s been inspiring my work has been the Hollyhock house. I was mentioning I’m working on a show and the house has been proving to be in charge. Although it is a lot more generous than I originally thought it would be, it has no problem letting me know something isn’t working in the interior. I think FLW would be smiling in his grave knowing he’s still in control haha. It’s really exciting to be in conversation with the Hollyhock, and I look forward to it.